Fic: Of Love's Recovery Maedhros/Fingon, Glorfindel/Aegnor 3/4
Title: Of Love’s Recovery
Chapter: Three
Author: phyncke
Beta: khylea
Characters: Fingon/Maedhros, Glorfindel/Aegnor, Fingolfin, Turgon, Caranthir (mention)
For: Ardor in August 2011
Warnings: AU and NC-17 (in this chapter slash content)
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Summary: Maedhros is rescued from Morgoth’s captivity on Thangorodrim and must find recovery in body and spirit by Mithrim Lake…
Glorfindel walked by Mithrim Lake most evenings. Tonight was clear and a steady breeze had dispersed the fog and smoke plaguing the lands. Morgoth attempted to vex the new orbs placed in the sky by obscuring their view from Arda. Elentári’s stars would bless them this night and the moon would shine over the lake, reflecting in the waters.
“I knew I would find you here, Glorfindel. You like to wander by the shore. ‘Tis nice this time of day.”
“Aegnor…” Glorfindel whispered softly, almost reverently.
“Were you pining? Is that sadness in your visage? Fear not, I am here.”
The two embraced, of a height, and their bodies aligned in perfect symmetry, leg to leg, hip to hip and on up to well muscled chests. Aegnor let his hands run through the sun-touched golden hair of his love, fingers in the silken tresses. They kissed softly, enjoying this daily reunion, a kiss stolen at twilight, deepening to something more passionate with tongues applied to dance and play.
“You are my doom, champion or not, Sharp Flame. You set a fire in me none can rival.”
“This is all to the good, my sweet. I would have it no other way.”
Aegnor let hands roam down the strong back, feeling the tautness of his skin through the cotton weave of his shirt. Down, down in his quest to grasp the firmness of his well toned buttocks with both hands grasping through leather. Lips met again, renewing the assault with greater force, as they ground their pelvises together, desire ignited fully to a conflagration, flames licking at them both.
Glorfindel pulled back to whisper.
“Not here, it is too open. We can be seen.”
There was wisdom in that and so they walked hand-in-hand under the protective boughs of the trees, into the forest where their activities would be hidden from curious eyes. Neither spoke but both felt the familiar tension of lust. Need coupled with no small amount of arousal to fuel their desire.
“Do not move, my sweet. Stay right there.” Aegnor murmured.
Aegnor gazed a few moments upon his lover, enjoying the golden radiance of the late day sun dappled in his hair. Some manner of luck had blessed him with this Elf’s notice but he would not let him go nor leave this moment without showing him the pleasure he deserved.
He moved to kneel at his feet, running a hand up each strong thigh.
“I want to worship you, my love…”
Glorfindel’s breath hitched at those words and he felt his legs tremble. He knew what Aegnor meant, of course as deft fingers slipped under his shirt, untying the stays of his leggings. His erection was exposed to the cool evening air and his leather pants were tugged to mid-thigh. Light caressing touches quickly progressed to firm strokes as Aegnor let his fist surround and entice his love to passion, applying spittle for lubrication.
Leaning back against the nearest tree, Glorfindel gave himself over to the tender cares of his cousin. He let his fingers dig into the bark, feeling its roughness, moaning. The wind whispered through the leaves above, providing a soothing background noise.
Aegnor pressed his mouth against the sensitive tip of his lover’s cock, sliding his tongue over the ridges of its surface. He enjoyed the flavor and taste that was Glorfindel, licking as his hand passed over the skin. He had a good idea of how much his partner could take, when to press, when to back off and how long he would last. He enjoyed the measure of control he had at this moment, and concentrated on that and the heightened pleasure of his companion. He paused in his attentions to say softly,
“Remove your shirt, please.”
Glorfindel complied, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the forest floor, where it lay in a heap on top of the pine needles. The air was cool on his sensitive skin as Aegnor caressed and teased his stomach and torso, pressing his hands flat over the smooth, strong physique.
He began to work in earnest on his lover’s arousal, taking it directly into the back of his throat, lips pressed as saliva created a natural lubricant. His mouth pumped and sucked, moving up and down on Glorfindel’s erect penis. Aegnor reached high enough to tease and pinch his lover’s hard nipples. He heard a corresponding low moan and continued to escalate their passion.
He let his tongue run underneath the now engorged phallus, licking from his balls to the tip and then sinking back down on him, tasting musk and light. He felt insatiable, as though he could do this forever. He would do this until his love spent and drained into his mouth. He willed Laurefindil to let go, to trust in this and their love, to fall, as they did every time. There were moments when they touched like this that their minds entwined as much as their bodies.
Glorfindel felt Aegnor’s thoughts, read his intent and trusted in him so well as to leave his heart, mind and body to his care. His head fell back at the repeated and renewed assaults on his senses and heard the words spoken in his mind,
“Let go, let go…I will catch you…you know I will.”
His fingers grasped the tree as his body tightened, feeling the onslaught of pleasure suffuse his body. The rush was intense, with a heat and sensation that almost made him stumble. Aegnor took it all in, having prepared for the ejaculate by widening his throat. He continued to caress and fondle Glorfindel with his lips and tongue until the climax subsided. After a few moments, he sat back on his haunches and looked up at the other Elf now flushed with realized passion.
“You holding up that tree?”
“It is all I can do, you undo me.”
Aegnor stood and gathered the golden haired Elf into his arms, holding him close and kissing his cheek and neck tenderly. He reached down to rearrange his pants and retrieve the discarded shirt.
“We have to go, so no time for anything else.”
“Later, then.”
“Yes…”
They both knew what the night would bring and they moved on through the forest to the gathering place, where the elves at Mithrim met to commune each night for their evening meal.
/---/
“Each morning came a soft gentle rain so I could quench my thirst. This was how I knew that Manwë had not forsaken me. Each day I could drink and partake of the water. It washed my body clean and I felt renewed.
The Valar do not forget us, Fingon, though we are in exile, you might think they do. They are ever present and help us as they may. Eagles watched on high protecting me from the worst of the predators of the air, dispersing any crows or evil birds that might gather to torment me as I hung vulnerable.
Time went on an on and I lost track of days, though I do remember clearly the Moon’s rise and the first sunny day. I did not feel so alone then though Varda’s stars sometimes kept me company before then. I would count them so as not to go mad and she gave me hope. Elbereth alone knows the prayers I uttered alone on that peak and she will keep my confidence.”
Maedhros paused in this telling, this sharing of his experiences. They lay in the candlelit chamber, close together, embracing on the bed. Some weeks had passed and while he was much stronger in body, his spirit had yet to revive from the ordeal of those long years. Imparting what had passed helped him recover his mind.
“I thought of you while I was chained. It saddened me that I would never see you again, nor witness your expression as a thought occurs to you or your smile as it lights up your face. That made it unbearable so I clung to the hope that we would reunite. And so it has come to pass.”
Fingon leaned forward to kiss him then, softly with little expectation of more, simply touching their lips together in kinship and felicity.
“I do not wish to be king. I will tell your father thus and abdicate the throne. He is rightful heir to my father and should take up that mantle. I want it written and enacted immediately.”
“You are sure?”
“I am sure.”
Maedhros’ face relaxed as though a great burden were lifted from him. He could not fulfill his oath and take up the kingship both and so he chose loyalty to his father over all. He knew that certain doom lay in that path but so be it.
“I will inform Fingolfin of this though you should tell him yourself.”
“I will. I have asked for an audience with him tomorrow. It will be done.”
“Very well.”
The two settled into a comfortable position, one nestled in the other, Fingon taking the outer position. He was happy to note that Maedhros felt more substantial than before, more muscular and meaty. Half of his nutrition was now solid food, though very plain and he had increased his daily exercise program to a more strenuous routine. No longer did he become winded at a short duration and his challenge to Aegnor to spar held serious merit. Soon they would begin training in earnest with a special device designed for his injured hand.
“Sleep well, cousin. When shall we send for your brothers?”
“Not yet.” Was the sleepy reply. “When I am fully recovered.”
Fingon lay awake for some time, imagining the wrathful confrontation when all the sons of Fëanor came to full knowledge of how long they had kept Maedhros here.
“As you wish.”
(To be continued…)
Chapter: Three
Author: phyncke
Beta: khylea
Characters: Fingon/Maedhros, Glorfindel/Aegnor, Fingolfin, Turgon, Caranthir (mention)
For: Ardor in August 2011
Warnings: AU and NC-17 (in this chapter slash content)
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Summary: Maedhros is rescued from Morgoth’s captivity on Thangorodrim and must find recovery in body and spirit by Mithrim Lake…
Glorfindel walked by Mithrim Lake most evenings. Tonight was clear and a steady breeze had dispersed the fog and smoke plaguing the lands. Morgoth attempted to vex the new orbs placed in the sky by obscuring their view from Arda. Elentári’s stars would bless them this night and the moon would shine over the lake, reflecting in the waters.
“I knew I would find you here, Glorfindel. You like to wander by the shore. ‘Tis nice this time of day.”
“Aegnor…” Glorfindel whispered softly, almost reverently.
“Were you pining? Is that sadness in your visage? Fear not, I am here.”
The two embraced, of a height, and their bodies aligned in perfect symmetry, leg to leg, hip to hip and on up to well muscled chests. Aegnor let his hands run through the sun-touched golden hair of his love, fingers in the silken tresses. They kissed softly, enjoying this daily reunion, a kiss stolen at twilight, deepening to something more passionate with tongues applied to dance and play.
“You are my doom, champion or not, Sharp Flame. You set a fire in me none can rival.”
“This is all to the good, my sweet. I would have it no other way.”
Aegnor let hands roam down the strong back, feeling the tautness of his skin through the cotton weave of his shirt. Down, down in his quest to grasp the firmness of his well toned buttocks with both hands grasping through leather. Lips met again, renewing the assault with greater force, as they ground their pelvises together, desire ignited fully to a conflagration, flames licking at them both.
Glorfindel pulled back to whisper.
“Not here, it is too open. We can be seen.”
There was wisdom in that and so they walked hand-in-hand under the protective boughs of the trees, into the forest where their activities would be hidden from curious eyes. Neither spoke but both felt the familiar tension of lust. Need coupled with no small amount of arousal to fuel their desire.
“Do not move, my sweet. Stay right there.” Aegnor murmured.
Aegnor gazed a few moments upon his lover, enjoying the golden radiance of the late day sun dappled in his hair. Some manner of luck had blessed him with this Elf’s notice but he would not let him go nor leave this moment without showing him the pleasure he deserved.
He moved to kneel at his feet, running a hand up each strong thigh.
“I want to worship you, my love…”
Glorfindel’s breath hitched at those words and he felt his legs tremble. He knew what Aegnor meant, of course as deft fingers slipped under his shirt, untying the stays of his leggings. His erection was exposed to the cool evening air and his leather pants were tugged to mid-thigh. Light caressing touches quickly progressed to firm strokes as Aegnor let his fist surround and entice his love to passion, applying spittle for lubrication.
Leaning back against the nearest tree, Glorfindel gave himself over to the tender cares of his cousin. He let his fingers dig into the bark, feeling its roughness, moaning. The wind whispered through the leaves above, providing a soothing background noise.
Aegnor pressed his mouth against the sensitive tip of his lover’s cock, sliding his tongue over the ridges of its surface. He enjoyed the flavor and taste that was Glorfindel, licking as his hand passed over the skin. He had a good idea of how much his partner could take, when to press, when to back off and how long he would last. He enjoyed the measure of control he had at this moment, and concentrated on that and the heightened pleasure of his companion. He paused in his attentions to say softly,
“Remove your shirt, please.”
Glorfindel complied, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the forest floor, where it lay in a heap on top of the pine needles. The air was cool on his sensitive skin as Aegnor caressed and teased his stomach and torso, pressing his hands flat over the smooth, strong physique.
He began to work in earnest on his lover’s arousal, taking it directly into the back of his throat, lips pressed as saliva created a natural lubricant. His mouth pumped and sucked, moving up and down on Glorfindel’s erect penis. Aegnor reached high enough to tease and pinch his lover’s hard nipples. He heard a corresponding low moan and continued to escalate their passion.
He let his tongue run underneath the now engorged phallus, licking from his balls to the tip and then sinking back down on him, tasting musk and light. He felt insatiable, as though he could do this forever. He would do this until his love spent and drained into his mouth. He willed Laurefindil to let go, to trust in this and their love, to fall, as they did every time. There were moments when they touched like this that their minds entwined as much as their bodies.
Glorfindel felt Aegnor’s thoughts, read his intent and trusted in him so well as to leave his heart, mind and body to his care. His head fell back at the repeated and renewed assaults on his senses and heard the words spoken in his mind,
“Let go, let go…I will catch you…you know I will.”
His fingers grasped the tree as his body tightened, feeling the onslaught of pleasure suffuse his body. The rush was intense, with a heat and sensation that almost made him stumble. Aegnor took it all in, having prepared for the ejaculate by widening his throat. He continued to caress and fondle Glorfindel with his lips and tongue until the climax subsided. After a few moments, he sat back on his haunches and looked up at the other Elf now flushed with realized passion.
“You holding up that tree?”
“It is all I can do, you undo me.”
Aegnor stood and gathered the golden haired Elf into his arms, holding him close and kissing his cheek and neck tenderly. He reached down to rearrange his pants and retrieve the discarded shirt.
“We have to go, so no time for anything else.”
“Later, then.”
“Yes…”
They both knew what the night would bring and they moved on through the forest to the gathering place, where the elves at Mithrim met to commune each night for their evening meal.
/---/
“Each morning came a soft gentle rain so I could quench my thirst. This was how I knew that Manwë had not forsaken me. Each day I could drink and partake of the water. It washed my body clean and I felt renewed.
The Valar do not forget us, Fingon, though we are in exile, you might think they do. They are ever present and help us as they may. Eagles watched on high protecting me from the worst of the predators of the air, dispersing any crows or evil birds that might gather to torment me as I hung vulnerable.
Time went on an on and I lost track of days, though I do remember clearly the Moon’s rise and the first sunny day. I did not feel so alone then though Varda’s stars sometimes kept me company before then. I would count them so as not to go mad and she gave me hope. Elbereth alone knows the prayers I uttered alone on that peak and she will keep my confidence.”
Maedhros paused in this telling, this sharing of his experiences. They lay in the candlelit chamber, close together, embracing on the bed. Some weeks had passed and while he was much stronger in body, his spirit had yet to revive from the ordeal of those long years. Imparting what had passed helped him recover his mind.
“I thought of you while I was chained. It saddened me that I would never see you again, nor witness your expression as a thought occurs to you or your smile as it lights up your face. That made it unbearable so I clung to the hope that we would reunite. And so it has come to pass.”
Fingon leaned forward to kiss him then, softly with little expectation of more, simply touching their lips together in kinship and felicity.
“I do not wish to be king. I will tell your father thus and abdicate the throne. He is rightful heir to my father and should take up that mantle. I want it written and enacted immediately.”
“You are sure?”
“I am sure.”
Maedhros’ face relaxed as though a great burden were lifted from him. He could not fulfill his oath and take up the kingship both and so he chose loyalty to his father over all. He knew that certain doom lay in that path but so be it.
“I will inform Fingolfin of this though you should tell him yourself.”
“I will. I have asked for an audience with him tomorrow. It will be done.”
“Very well.”
The two settled into a comfortable position, one nestled in the other, Fingon taking the outer position. He was happy to note that Maedhros felt more substantial than before, more muscular and meaty. Half of his nutrition was now solid food, though very plain and he had increased his daily exercise program to a more strenuous routine. No longer did he become winded at a short duration and his challenge to Aegnor to spar held serious merit. Soon they would begin training in earnest with a special device designed for his injured hand.
“Sleep well, cousin. When shall we send for your brothers?”
“Not yet.” Was the sleepy reply. “When I am fully recovered.”
Fingon lay awake for some time, imagining the wrathful confrontation when all the sons of Fëanor came to full knowledge of how long they had kept Maedhros here.
“As you wish.”
(To be continued…)