T.A. 2951 Hithui
Gray. Imladris was shrouded in it, with pregnant gray clouds that carried within them a cold, steady rain. Hints of the approaching winter sent many of Imladrisí residents indoors and the first lighting of fireplaces warned off the chill of the evening. Gil-galad had sought shelter and large qualities of Miruvor in Imladrisí vast libraries. He now lay quite inebriated, staring mesmerized into the flickering flames that burned in the large fireplace. His thoughts were fuzzy, the earlier discord and torment but a distant memory. The knowledge that it had all been for nothing had sent him in search of escape; that he found solace in the bottom of a bottle led to his current prone state. What else was one to do when the evidence that their life and death had changed nothing has confronted them?
Erestor had left him alone after imparting the events that occurred after his death. That no one had bothered him or sought entrance into the libraries for hours gave credence to the suspicion that the Chief Councilor had warned all others away. The soft opening and closing of the door signaled that someone was brave enough to ignore Erestorís warning, but Gil-galadís fuzzy mind showed no interest in learning the identity of his intruder. It was the flash of jeweled-toned slippers out of the corner of his eyes that first caught his sluggish brainís attention. His slightly blurred vision traveled up the burgundy-robed form to rest on Elrondís slightly disapproving features.
Gil-galad smirked at the frown the Peredhel wore and raised his glass, mockingly saluting the Elf-lord. "G-good even-tide, Elrond," he slurred, his words sounding fine to his ear.
Elrond sighed and reached down to remove the half-empty glass from Gil-galadís unstable hand. "Erestor told me he had shared with you what Middle-earth is currently facing, but nothing was said of its fate sending you to drink," Elrond moved away, and removing the glass from Gil-galad's reach.
"G-give me t-that," Gil-galad cried and stumbled to his feet, but halted and clung to the sofa as the room tilted. Closing his eyes and regaining his senses, Gil-galad finally registered the remarks Elrond had just made. He opened his eyes to stare incredulously at the Peredhel. *Elrond could not understand how the news of the Dark Lordís return might send him to drink!* Bitterness and anger fueled by alcohol overcame any inhibiters. "You see no reason why I might have turned to drink after receiving such tidings from Erestor?" Gil-galad spat at Elrond.
Despite the warmth from the fire, the atmosphere in the room became frozen as Elrond stared into the burning gaze of Gil-galad.
Gil-galad forced the hurt away not allowing it to show in his voice, but the fierce anger and injustice had found a target. "Were you too busy, Elrond? Or did it simply not occur to you that I might have wanted to hear from *your* lips the news that I died upon the slopes of Barad-dŻr for nothing? ĎTis enough to know my place in this Arda has been brushed aside by the Valar, that they would send me back without any warning as to the horrors I would find. Unprepared was I, yes, but always with the hope that this was a better Arda than the one I dies for. One that existed without shadow. That I had some small part to play in that foolish dream of a peaceful Middle-earth was some comfort in Mandosí Halls. That, and the dream of you." Gil-galad said, unable any longer to keep the heartache from seeping from his voice and showing in his eyes.
Elrond turned away and spoke without looking upon Gil-galad. His voice if it trembled was brushed aside as his words ignited the fires of Gil-galadís anger all over again. "Nothing was foretold of your coming. No visions of foresight showed a place in this conflict for you, Ereinion. Indeed, Galadriel and I have seen much of this coming war with the shadow and we are of like mind in that you have no place in this struggle." Elrond still did not face the former King, not seeing the rage and pain that darkened the otherwise fair features.
Gil-galad felt his fragile hold shatter, and with quick strides and a soundless cry he grabbed Elrond and spun him around, too far gone in anger to read the fear in the half-Elfís eyes. He roughly shook Elrond, furious hurt words pouring from his heart and lips. "Curse you and the Valar, Elrond! They send me back here to play consort to an Elf who rejects me at every turn. I will no longer be a pawn for them or you, Elrond, and I will play the eunuch no more!" Gil-galad pulled a shocked Elrond to him and fiercely claimed Elrondís mouth.
Gil-galadís ruthless hold pinned Elrond tightly against him, Elrondís hands made useless by their trap against Gil-galadís chest. Elrondís cry of outrage allowed Gil-galadís tongue to plunge inside and take possession of every inch of the Peredhelís mouth. Hungrily and selfishly he explored the sweet depths that had been denied him. Gil-galadís tongue captured Elrondís and he sucked strongly on that muscle, pulling it unwilling into his own mouth and forcing engagement.
Gil-galad broke the harsh kiss, breathing heavily. One hand reached up to fist in Elrondís hair and he pulled sharply back, arching the half-Elfís throat. Gil-galadís lips, tongue, and teeth took eager advantage of this new territory, marking the pale flesh with teeth and mouth. Elrondís moan barely registered as Gil-galad once more took the Peredhelís lips for his own. Kiss after kiss was roughly taken and then, eagerly returned as Elrond lost the battle over his own sense.
Elrondís hands sought escape for entirely different reasons; freedom denied once more, his fingers sought clasp and hooks within his reach. The fumbling hands against his clothes finally reached Gil-galadís passion glazed senses, and he moaned in rising ardor. His hands loosed their hold, only to grasp Elrondís robes and raise them over the half-Elfís head, too impatient to wait for a slower removal.
"Off," Gil-galad growled, tugging on Elrondís undershirt. His eyes watched every move as Elrond obeyed his command, drawing the offending shirt up over his head, sending his chestnut hair flying.
Gil-galadís own garments were torn away with little regard. Nude, he dropped to his knees, his hands reaching up to circle Elrondís bare waist. He looked up into those burning gray depths, his own cobalt eyes blazing just as fiercely, and with just as much want. Keeping their eyes locked, Gil-galad unlaced Elrondís leggings and pulled them slowly down the half-Elfís legs until Elrond could step free. Only then did Gil-galad let his gaze travel down the Peredhelís body bared for him after so long a drought. He growled as his eyes fell on Elrondís heavy arousal arched high and hard against the half-Elfís stomach.
One hand circled Elrondís hip before resting on one taut buttock. His other hand grasped Elrondís hungry length, using this hold to pull the half-Elf to his waiting mouth. No prelude or gentle foreplay, just Gil-galad swallowing Elrond whole. The cry from above was ignored as his own groan sounded when the rich, heady flavor burst over his tongue. Gil-galad sucked strongly, tongue ravenous as it explored Elrondís arousal. Gil-galadís head slowly pulled back; each inch that left his mouth brought a tremble to Elrondís frame. Pausing only long enough to swirl his tongue around the head and gather the juices there, back deeply did he once more take Elrondís length. Again and again he tasted, until the sharp pull of Elrondís hands in his hair brought him back to himself.
Deep blue eyes rose and locked on heavy lidded gray ones. Gil-galad waited, mouth still firmly wrapped around Elrondís length; ignoring the pleading in those eyes. Only after a desperate cry left the Peredhelís lips did he suck the rigid flesh back in mouth. No teasing now, just the fast thrust and withdraw as Gil-galad allowed Elrond to use his mouth. Gil-galadís fingers tightened on Elrondís rear and he pulled the half-Elf sharply forward. One movement of his throat around the head of Elrondís arousal was all it took and with a loud cry Elrond exploded, shooting his seed down Gil-galadís throat.
Gently his tongue bathed the sated sex and his arms provided support for Elrondís trembling form. Gil-galad wrapped his arms tightly about Elrondís waist and rested his own flushed face against the Peredhelís stomach. Breathing heavily, he fought for some control over his own need. Gil-galad pulled away and looked up into Elrondís gaze. He hid nothing. His eyes spoke of his love and his fierce want. Gil-galad watched his love, his body growing cold as Elrondís warm gray eyes filled with fear.
Elrondís face reflected an almost horrifying fear and his eyes, they held such pain and terror that Gil-galadís own filled with tears. He watched as Elrond pulled free from his arms and bent down, picking up his robe. It was Gil-galadís face that now filled with fear, a terror he had never shown not even at his own death. For this was worse, worse than any horror and torment he could imagine. Elrond was leaving him once more.
Elrond pulled the robe over his head. He tuned to look at the kneeling figure of Gil-galad. Gone from his features were any emotions. Indeed, the half-Elfís face was as blank as the marble statues that graced his home. When he spoke, his voice was soft but oh so final. "I will not do this again, Ereinion. I cannot go through this again." Elrond walked quickly to the door, his rush to leave Gil-galadís presence sending a stab of ice into Gil-galadís heart. Elrond paused briefly, his back trembling. "I-I would not survive a second time," he whispered before leaving.
Gil-galad stared at the closed door. No more tears did he have to shed. No numbness could compare to this, not even the vast nothingness that was Mandosí Halls. Gil-galad stumbled to his feet. His body heavy, he dressed, his movements old and resigned. He knew it was time long past time for him to go.
It did not take long to gather his meager possessions, and he encountered no one as he made his way to the stables. Gil-galad did not allow his mind to think past the details needed to leave, and only once did his fractured heart feel anything. That was when he took one last look at Elrondís Imladris before he rode away.
To be continued...