A LESSON IN LOVING
Pairing: Aragorn/Glorfindel, implied Erestor/Glorfindel
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Tolkien and I am only borrowing with grateful thanks to the great master for the gift of his imagination.
Timeframe: TA 2950
Warning: Explicit Sex
Summary: PWP, Oneshot, First Time. Aragorn needs to master one more art before facing his future and leaving Imladris. Glorfindel agrees to take him as student for the last time.
A/N: Though not a formal entry, this is inspired by Livejournal’s Fanfic 100 Challenge,
Category #76, Who?
Aragorn walked the paths of Imladris, periodically reaching out to touch a familiar tree or dip his fingers into a streaming rill, concentrating on the one thought that had so recently begun to invade his mind. It was not an unpleasant thought, and he shook his head and smiled at the absurdity of concentrating on a matter so small. He had just recently learned of his true heritage and the changes it would bring weighed heavily on his mind, but at the moment those larger questions were subsumed by the smaller question that would not let him be.
To whom could he turn to learn the one thing that he wished to learn? To gain experience in matters not taught in Erestor’s classroom or Glorfindel’s arena? To ask questions and practice first-hand things not learned from a father?
He first thought, as he always did, of his brothers. They had taught him all that he knew of the world outside of Imladris’ gates and he loved them. He trusted them as he did no others, perhaps save Legolas, but quickly discarded the idea with a smile and a shake of his head. They would treat it as a lark and would tease him and he couldn’t bear the thought. Not that he hadn’t teased them about the very same subject, but now it was different, and he was as serious about this as he was about all of the other things he had learned, and mastered.
Legolas? Oh, now that was a thing to ponder. Legolas was not there and he felt urgently the need to divest himself of this last gaping hole in his knowledge. Besides, he would not go to Legolas with this….not at least until he had learned and could….
No... Legolas could not serve this purpose.
He thought of the other Elven realms and of those that he knew there. Celeborn was like a grandfather to him and seemed too far distant from the subject at hand. He laughed at the mere thought of asking Celeborn to help him. Haldir and his brothers were known to him, but they were at once far away and only acquaintances. They would not do at all.
He knew of no men he could ask. He barely had met any of his people at all and the ones that he did know could most certainly not be approached on this matter.
He paced back and forth, shaking his head thinking of this name and that. It had to be an elf and one known to him. Almost as important was that the elf also knew him and knew him well enough to take his request with a sincere desire to school him well and thoroughly. He had already named almost every elf he knew and discarded them for one reason or another.
It came down to the pair he had known all his life, the ones who had taught him almost everything he had ever learned. But which one?
Erestor; so wonderfully patient and kind, beautiful in his own right and ever a benevolent figure in his life. Experienced also, if Glorfindel’s perpetual smile and genial countenance were any indication. Ummmm, Glorfindel?
Aragorn stopped his fervent pacing and put a finger to his lips, tapping, tapping. He considered the great golden Elf-lord…
Despite his well-deserved fearsome reputation as the consummate warrior and the ethereal quality of an elf living at once in Arda and Valinor, Glorfindel was the closest it came, Aragorn thought, to both understanding and helping to solve the problem at hand.
Their relationship had grown and changed over the years and Aragorn was fairly certain that Glorfindel no longer saw him as a surrogate son or pupil or one to be coddled as a mere weakling human. Ever since Aragorn had once bested him with his sword, Glorfindel had seen him with new eyes. Not as a peer, of course. Aragorn thought that laughable. There was hardly an elf this side of Valinor who could match Glorfindel’s years and experience. But he regarded the man with a certain respect all the same and a strange sort of deference.
The magnificent balrog-slayer had also known two lives and what it was to face death. Two things that gave him rare insight into mortals and their Gift and Aragorn in particular, he of two lives already, as Estel and Aragorn, and of others yet to be realized.
Aragorn closed his eyes and pictured it – the great warrior’s body covering his – giving his teacher pleasure in return. His now burgeoning erection gave him all of the answer he needed. He would ask Glorfindel.
The heir of Elendil walked back to the house, confident in his choice. He only hoped that Glorfindel would acquiesce and almost more that Erestor would allow it. Now, which elf should he approach first? Erestor for permission, or Glorfindel for the favor?
He decided first to speak with Glorfindel since he would not burden Erestor unless Glorfindel had agreed. Perhaps he would not have to talk to Erestor at all, if Glorfindel would do so. Yes. That was the plan.
He walked up the long marbled stairs and almost before he was ready found himself at the door to the warrior’s bed chamber. Knocking tentatively, he was a little startled when the Elf-Lord answered and for a moment lost his nerve and thought to walk away, but he steadied himself and replied.
“Glorfindel? It is Aragorn. Do you have a moment to speak with me?”
“Of course, mellon-nin. Come in, come in.”
The seneschal opened the door widely and nearly overwhelmed the man with his masculinity and gregarious welcome. Arriving just recently from his day at the training grounds, he wore only leggings and a thin sheen of sweat covered his body making him look glorious. Aragorn paused but Glorfindel put out his hand and drew him in.
“What is it, son of Elrond? Why do you seek me out?”
Aragorn looked at his boots, and then around the room. He paced in front of the fireplace and then out to the balcony.
“Um, I thought of everyone I knew and I could not ask Ada, and certainly NOT Elladan or Elrohir. Legolas is so far away….” He paused for a moment as he thought of his friend.
“And the elves of Lothlorien cannot help me and no man would. I thought of Erestor also, but…”
Glorfindel stopped him then, hands on the man’s shoulders and forced him to look at him.
“Aragorn. What is it?”
“Glorfindel, please do not laugh. I have given this a lot of thought and you are the only one to which I can turn. Please do not laugh at me.”
The mighty warrior led him to a chair and bade him sit down. He poured a small glass of wine for the man and one for himself and sat down as well, hands on thighs and facing his former student. He cocked an eyebrow in question and spoke.
“This must be some important matter, Aragorn, for I have not seen you in this state since your father showed you Elendil’s sword!”
Aragorn laughed then. The Elf-lord had put him at his ease and the small draft of fortified wine had helped to calm him
“I have a favor to ask and it is an unusual one, but important to me. I have learned much in my time here and I will soon go out into the world. I know how to fight and to heal, I know when to speak and keep silent and I know several languages and the history of both the First and Secondborn, but there is one thing of which I have no experience and it has of late been urgently burdening my mind…and my body.”
“Ah.” answered the seneschal, a gleaming smile overcoming his face. “I think I know of what you speak, pen-neth. You wish for me to teach you bed manners, is that it?”
Aragorn sat back in the chair, relieved that he did not have to say it and took a deep breath.
“Yes.” he answered.
Glorfindel slowly moved forward and cupped the man’s head between his large calloused hands, eyes gently regarding him.
“I would be honored.”
Aragorn let out a long breath and the trepidation that had held his body in tension fell away.
“But what of Erestor? Is this allowed? I mean, I would not have asked you and I know that you do not…”
Glorfindel laid a finger on his lips to silence him and smiled in understanding.
“Do not worry pen-neth. His is a generous soul and he will not mind this one time. He may even wish to join us…”
Aragorn started up then but Glorfindel steadied him.
“I was merely jesting with you, Aragorn. This is for us to do together, alone. Will you come to my chambers this very night? I see that you are anxious and perhaps, the sooner, the better. How does this sound to you?”
“Thank you Glorfindel. I will come when Ithil rises.”
“Yes, you will.” answered the elf-Lord with a smirk, “Many times.” Glorfindel gifted Aragorn with a gentle kiss on the cheek before leading him to the door.
Dinner that evening was as always full of merry conversation. Elladan and Elrohir were in their usual high spirits and barely noticed that their brother seemed distracted. For his part, Aragorn felt self conscious, as if everyone knew his secret and eyed the elves at the table surreptitiously while he toyed with the food on his platter. Glorfindel had noticed however and urged the man to eat, whispering with a smile,
“Aragorn, I would not have you pass out from hunger later on. Do eat pen-neth. You will have need of all of your strength.”
Once the meal ended and Imladris’ denizens filed out into the hallway, Erestor waylaid his former charge. Putting his arm around Aragorn’s shoulders he led him to a corner and spoke.
“I am rather envious of you tonight, my young friend.”
Aragorn’s quizzical look urged him to continue.
“Glorfindel has told me of his plans for the evening and I would have you know that all is well with me and I will not tell of it. I only wish that I had my first experience at his hands. He is a most wonderful lover and generous. Do not fear, Aragorn. Be at ease and let him guide you. Now, go and bathe and prepare yourself. You have chosen well and need not worry that I begrudge it.”
“Thank you, Erestor.” Aragorn replied, glad that the advisor had spoken and given his blessing. He stealthily separated himself from the gathering and made his way to his chambers.
Now Aragorn was not totally naïve. He knew what happened between two males or a male and a female and he had felt the urge to couple on many occasions. He had even been kissed and brought himself to release with his own hand, but as with everything else, he wanted some mastery before he went out into the world. He had certainly been attracted to one elf or another, both female and male but felt no strong preference either way, though there was a certain blond Prince….
Sighing, he sunk into the bath and let the warm water soothe his body. He chose oil made of athelas which both invigorated and relaxed him, so intimately was he connected with the scent and its properties and cleansed himself thoroughly. Rising from the bath, he felt the first burst of panic. What was he doing? He had thought he had it well planned and chosen correctly but suddenly was aware of his very, well, humanness. Why in all the world would Glorfindel wish to do this for him? Why had he even asked?
He stared at his countenance in the mirror and ran his hands over his scarred flesh. The hair! He had never given much thought to his looks but now felt self conscious of how the perfect golden warrior would view him.
He sucked in a great breath and settled himself. Glorfindel had seen him before and intimately. The communal baths had afforded all and sundry the opportunity to see his human body and no one had commented one way or another. Perhaps it was the presence of the Peredhel – no one had dared. He shook his head at this sudden bout of nerves and began to dress.
Glorfindel meanwhile was preparing his bed chambers for Aragorn’s arrival. He had not used these rooms for some time as most often he could be found in Erestor’s, preferring the privacy and dark coziness of the advisor’s chambers. His were more spartan, but he endeavored to make them welcoming by lighting a fire and the few candles that were placed here and there.
He ensured that a small platter of fruit was available and that Aragorn’s favorite wine had been decanted, that the sheets were clean and that a small vial of oil was secreted. He looked around the room and pronounced it ready, though with a small chuckle. Erestor would have scented it or placed flowers or a scrap of poetry nearby. He felt a wave of gratefulness for the gentle nurturing of his mate.
It had been some time since the Elf-lord had been in this position. He had been Erestor’s for lo these many years, binding with him soon after his arrival in Imladris and never had he strayed from the advisor’s warm bed. He did not wish to think of before that, but was not inexperienced in the realm of seduction. He had at last captured the elusive and alluring Erestor, had he not?
Glorfindel wound small braids into his hair, grinning at their temporary life. He intended their unbinding as a part of the lesson he would teach and the same could be said of his clothes. Rather than appearing nude or with only a robe, he donned a light tunic and leggings, the better to put Aragorn at his ease.
He had just run a comb through his hair when he heard the tentative knock. Had he not been an elf he may never have heard it so hesitantly did Aragorn announce his presence. His eyes filled with tenderness for his young friend and he strode to the door.
He welcomed Aragorn with a smile and grasped his arm to usher him in. Aragorn did not flinch but rather leaned into the touch, appreciating the Elf-lord’s initial gesture as neither too blatant nor too intimate. He clasped Glorfindel’s upper arm in response and opened his mouth to speak, but was struck dumb by the sincerity and genuine caring reflected in the warrior’s eyes.
Touched by Aragorn’s innocence, Glorfindel’s hand moved upward, pushing a wayward lock behind the rounded ear and tenderly ghosted his lips over the man’s check.
“Come Aragorn,” he whispered, “Let us share a glass of wine and sit by the fire a while.”
He led the adan to the lush furs that doubled as carpet and bade him recline. Glorfindel soon joined him, reaching out to deliver the goblet and prolonged the exchange as Aragorn’s hand met with his.
“Ah, you have grown handsome my friend.” Glorfindel said, lowering himself to lay next to the man. Propped on one elbow, he continued.
“Not even the greatest of Elf-lords, save Elrond, can boast of your bloodline. And I see in you a culmination of them all. The high Númenorean, the elven, the small part that is Maia…”
“But…,” Aragorn interrupted, but Glorfindel continued,
“I do not mean these words to add to your burdens pen-neth, only to assure you that what we will do this night is naught but a privilege. And you should have no fear that it is a chore or at all unpalatable to me. I think you quite beautiful and your body entices me.
With that the great golden warrior began stroking the man, wafting his long fingers from cheek to neck and then drawing a thin line down the man’s chest. Aragorn closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, relishing the feeling and nestling deeper into the furs. Even this slightest of touches caused a jolt of excitement and Aragorn shuddered to know it was only beginning.
“I think you have waited overlong for this, mellon-nin. Look at how your body reacts.”
Glorfindel continued his ministrations, now drawing the finger downward and limning the length of the man’s awakening erection. He wrapped his left arm around Aragorn and laid himself closer, before outlining the man’s lips with his tongue. He could feel the man’s breath quiver as he licked and soon his mouth covered Aragorn’s in a soft kiss.
Glorfindel had almost forgotten his mission in that soft kiss, but now he remembered and lifted up for a moment, drawing the man’s eyes into his own.
“Would you lie with elves or men? For if you lie with elves you should know that we prefer to come to our lovers with our hair unbound. Would you like to do it, or shall I?”
Aragorn reached out a tentative hand, and ensnarled his fingers in the long golden hair. He stroked the thick curtain and sat up for leverage and with both hands now unwound the braid at the elf’s left ear. He brushed the pointed tip as he did so and Glorfindel let out a long breath.
“Ah, another lesson learned, my dear friend, for an elf’s ears are sensitive and you just now shot an unmistakable message throughout my whole body.”
Aragorn smiled at that and moved to the right side of Glorfindel’s head. His hands slowly released the braid at that side, making sure to let his fingers dwell briefly over the elf’s ear. Glorfindel reacted with an open mouthed sigh and Aragorn enfurled the long hair with both hands, leaning in to offer a chaste kiss to the elf’s mouth.
Glorfindel took over and laid himself over Aragorn’s body, pushing him onto the floor and cupping the man’s head with his hands. He insinuated a firm thigh between the man’s legs as he leaned forward and began at Aragorn’s brow, working his lips downward past the adan’s eyes and cheeks, leaving small kisses in his wake.
“I do not know how it is that men kiss, or begin with their love-making, but I do know that elves with few exceptions like to prolong it and torment their lovers before consummating the act, and even more, ellyth require it. Do you like this?”
Aragorn could barely form words so exquisite were Glorfindel’s kisses, but managed to choke out his now provoked hunger.
“Oh yes, please do not stop. Do you wish for me to do the same?”
“Follow your instincts, pen-neth. Try not to think too hard. Love-making is a matter of the heart…and touch. Your reactions thus far tell me you are more than responsive.”
With that Glorfindel parted the man’s tunic from his neck and with his tongue laid a fine track from the man’s ear to his collarbone. Aragorn felt himself sink into the floor and uttered an “Ah’ as the tongue reached the nape. His arms encircled the elf and his hands raked through the golden one’s hair, now drawing the elf’s face up to his and kissing him firmly. Glorfindel answered the kiss, plying the man’s lips with his tongue and asking for entrance. Aragorn’s mouth opened for him and Glorfindel delved, streaking his tongue over the man’s teeth and exploring the warm cavern. Aragorn touched the elf’s tongue with his own and soon they were both fully engaged, learning of each other and tasting.
As the passionate kiss ran its course, Glorfindel reached down to the man’s waist and slowly pulled the tunic up to his chest. Aragorn arched his back slightly to let the elf pull it over his head and he felt his nipples peak as the warm hands outlined his chest. Glorfindel plied the small nubs, first with his fingertips and then with his palms, slowly circling before taking them between his fingers and pinching them lightly. Aragorn shuddered when Glorfindel’s head lowered and he took them, one after another, between his pillowy lips. So lightly did the elf’s tongue lap that Aragorn hardly felt the touch, but it only seemed to inflame him further and he pulled the elf’s head closer, asking for more.
Glorfindel responded by taking an engorged nub between his teeth and lightly nipping. Aragorn had never felt anything as stimulating and uttered a guttural moan.
Glorfindel endeavored to lick down the man’s chest, but Aragorn stopped him.
“Wait,” said the man as he lifted himself up and reached for Glorfindel’s tunic, seductively pulling the ties at the neck. Opening them further, Aragorn kissed the elf’s nape and over to the shoulder and soon Glorfindel’s tunic joined his own on the floor.
They regarded one another, each reaching out to touch the skin before him. Glorfindel, so golden and scarless, not a hair to mar the taut perfect plane of his upper body, and Aragorn, now full grown into manhood, chest broad and musculature heavy, dark fur running in a vee down past the tightened leggings.
They embraced chest to chest, Aragorn returning Glorfindel’s touches, learning the warrior’s body as he moved his hands from the elf’s waist to his neck. Glorfindel groaned and held fast to the man’s back, reveling in the feel of soft hair touching his skin. He grasped and plied the man’s flesh with his fingers.
“You learn well,” he managed to choke out, and then overturned them. Glorfindel lowered the man to the floor and for the first time their adamant erections met. Aragorn gasped and thrust his pelvis upward overwhelmed by the feeling and eager for more.
“We are still encumbered, my lord Aragorn.” said the elf and slowly he slithered his body off of the man’s. Rising to his knees, he offered Aragorn his hand and pulled the man with him until they were standing. Aragorn’s eyes pled with him not to stop and Glorfindel read them as his hand made its way to the lacings on the man’s leggings.
Eyes still holding Aragorn’s, his fingers followed the thin line of dark fur and pulled at the lacing. He opened the flap, permitting the man’s now fully incited column freedom from its confinement. The man sighed with relief and Glorfindel let a small smile grace his lips. Working his fingers down through the waistband, Glorfindel lowered them, pausing only to help the man take off his boots before removing them completely.
Aragorn stood naked before him, fully inflamed. Glorfindel never thought him more alluring and told him so.
“Ai, Aragorn, I have never lain with a man, so for me this is a first time also, and though I have seen your body before, I am looking now with new eyes. Your very masculinity pervades all my senses. You are beautiful pen-neth in your arousal and but for your dark nest not so different from an elf.” He chuckled slightly as he continued,
“I am somewhat known amongst our people for having a member of some size, but yours my dear Aragorn is to be marveled at. I now wonder if all men are thus. The girth…”
He reached out to touch and Aragorn groaned. He had never felt another’s hand upon his sex and was excited by the feel of the elf’s finger moving over it. When Glorfindel encircled it with his fingers and slowly stroked up and down Aragorn’s body began to quiver and the elf leaned closer brushing his lips from nape to ear as he whispered,
“Let us go to the bed.”
Aragorn sighed while Glorfindel led him, arm gently seated around the man’s waist and motioning for him to sit on the bed. Glorfindel stepped back and played his hands up his thighs before unworking the laces of his own leggings. Slowly he worked the cloth down the lean hips before stepping out and standing, legs slightly splayed and fully revealed to the man
Before he could check it, an admiring “Oh” escaped Aragorn’s mouth and his eyes went to Glorfindel’s, nearly begging the Elf-lord’s permission to touch.
Glorfindel granted it, saying no words but leading the man’s hands to the slight curve at his waist. Aragorn grasped lightly, his fingers conveying his appreciation of the elf’s taut and hairless skin. So smooth, Aragorn thought, as if he could feel every tendon and sinewy muscle under his fingertips. His hands moved to the front, touching the firm length and then encircling the near purple glans at the top. Glorfindel twisted under his fingers and was stirred further still by the man’s seeming reverence. But the night was still young and there was still much to do and Glorfindel softly pried the man’s hand from his near weeping erection though not without a small sigh of regret.
“That feels so good pen-neth. Yours are truly the gentle hands of a healer, but surely you know what will happen if you continue. And we have time.”
Glorfindel knelt then, prying Aragorn’s legs farther apart and began to nip and kiss the man’s tensile and now quivering thighs. He lapped at the flesh and Aragorn trembled, elbows bent and head thrown back. When he felt the elf’s hair waft over his sex his mind flashed to another with smooth corn silk locks and he felt his desire quicken. When he could no longer support himself, he laid back on the bed as his body quaked. His dripping erection yearned for more and Aragorn could not suppress a strangled choke when he felt Glorfindel’s lips upon him.
This was way beyond the man’s experience and he was overwhelmed by the sweet warmth of the elf’s mouth and the feeling of his sex so engulfed. When Glorfindel took him whole in his mouth he thrust fervently, but the elf slowed him by holding his hips firmly down on the bed. Plying the slit Glorfindel had his first taste of the man. So masculine and musky was the flavor that he stopped to savor it for a moment, licking his lips and swirling it through his mouth.
Glorfindel continued in earnest then, plunging his mouth down and hollowing his cheeks. He began to hum and Aragorn, dazed, pried the elf’s hands from his hips and bucked upward. Over and over the elf’s mouth descended and Aragorn thrust until the sweet suction overcame him and his seed burst forth, coating Glorfindel’s throat with the creamy liquor.
Aragorn sunk into the bed, spent, while Glorfindel delighted in and swallowed the man’s aqueous fluid and he moaned as the elf finished the task, by gently cleansing the glans with his tongue.
Glorfindel laid himself next to the man and gently played with his hair while he recovered. When Aragorn came back to himself he looked at the elf, eyes wide and then a broad smile came over his face. Glorfindel smiled back and took him in a firm embrace, communicating his understanding and touching his forehead to Aragorn’s. They lay like this for a while, until Glorfindel wafted a tender kiss on the man’s brow and sat up.
“Aragorn, would you now taste an elf? For I fear if you do not, I will have to take myself in hand, so inspired am I to see you in your pleasure.”
Aragorn looked at the long turgid column, inflamed and weeping for want of release and licked his lips in anticipation. Glorfindel laid back and parted his legs, giving the man a clear path toward achieving that which he so desired. Aragorn began at the elf’s knees, holding his legs with each of his hands, but rather than drop his mouth to the thighs, he moved himself upward and began to kiss the glorious elf near his naval. Swirling his tongue, the man licked and tasted and drizzled soft kisses over the taut abdomen before taking an experimental lap at the droplets that emerged from the elf’s purpled glans.
More boldly now, Aragorn took the large head in his mouth, fully surrounding it. Glorfindel moaned and thus encouraged, the man slid his mouth as far as he could go, feeling the elf’s tip at the back of his throat. Slowly he released it, hollowing his cheeks as Glorfindel had and the elf bucked upward.
Though fully awakened and reveling in the sweet feel of Aragorn’s lips upon him, Glorfindel paused. He took the man’s head between his fingers and pulled gently up, forcing Aragorn to look at him for a moment.
“I would warn you before my release, if you would choose not to drink of it. It is alright. Many do not relish the taste, but I should tell you that it is considered a tribute to do so.”
“I am thirsty.” Aragorn answered huskily, and then dipped his head, once again taking the elf full and deep into his throat. He moved more ardently now, enjoying the feel of the slick hardened column and opened the slit with his tongue as he moved over the tip.
Glorfindel laid back, satisfied that he done rightly by giving the Aragorn the choice and relaxed into the feeling of the man’s lips around him. He closed his eyes and let his body sink into the bed and began to breathe heavily and quick, so accomplished had Aragorn become. The man’s words played over in his mind, and it so aroused him that soon his hips thrust upward countering Aragorn’s rhythm.
The low thrum of pleasure wound through his body and soon built to its peak as Aragorn’s mouth limned, and the elf emitted a sharp cry as he erupted, shooting the warm nectar down through the grasping lips.
Aragorn stopped breathing as the hot liquid spooled through his mouth, but closed his eyes and savored the taste of the elf. After rolling the musky broth around his tongue he swallowed, and a self-satisfied smile came to his lips.
Glorfindel steadied himself and reached down to take the man into his arms. He kissed him tenderly and embraced him tightly. Before they parted, Glorfindel whispered,
“You always did learn quickly pen-neth. That was wonderful.”
Glorfindel broke the embrace and moved to rise from the bed, but Aragorn stilled him by grasping his hand, a questioning look in his eyes.
Glorfindel laughed and squeezed Aragorn’s hand saying,
“Let us refresh ourselves, Aragorn. Ithil is not even yet past the midline and we still have many hours in which to complete your schooling. Would that the rest of my students be so ardent in their training!”
The Elf-Lord handed Aragorn a robe and so clothed they moved to the table where Glorfindel poured them each a glass of the wine. Nibbling at the fruit, Glorfindel continued the conversation.
“It is said that among your race, laying with males is not widely practiced. But I have heard that men call what we have just done a warrior’s ease. That is, after many nights away from home and with battle-lust thick in their minds, even the males of your race turn to one another for release, either by hand or with their mouths. I do not think it is spoken of, call it a fighting man’s secret, though one widely known. I mention this only in passing, Aragorn. Know where you are before you act.”
“I still have so much to learn, Glorfindel.” sighed the man, “Though I take your warning seriously and will watch myself. Ummm, the wine is good. Thank you for bringing my favorite, and for everything.”
Aragorn took up a peach and even its juices incited the man. His senses, now awakened, reeled as he bit into its succulent flesh and he purposely let the fruit’s nectar escape from his mouth, the better to capture it with his now practiced tongue. Glorfindel watched him and allowed a small smile to pass over his face, but continued the conversation.
“You should know also that females enjoy that which we have just completed.”
Laughing, the Elf-lord continued as he leaned over table,
“Of course the anatomy is different. Surely in your training as a healer you have learned that much. There is a small nub at the apex of a woman’s sex, which is the seat of all of her pleasure. If you would lie with women, you should know this and remember it. Also that it takes more time to ready a woman for consummation of the act. Whether by fingers or by mouth, you must exercise patience and take as much time as is needed before you go further. Do you understand?”
“Aiya, yes, Glorfindel, but I do not even know…”
“Patience, Aragorn. Learn of yourself. Practice. As with all else, the answer will present itself in time.”
They sat silently for a while, each to their own thoughts until Glorfindel took up a ripe strawberry and brought it to Aragorn’s lips. Aragorn bit and Glorfindel swiped the red juice over his mouth. Leaning in, the elf-Lord inquired,
“Are you ready for what comes next pen-neth?”
Aragorn gulped as he swallowed the fruit, but with trusting eyes, nodded his head.
“Yes, I think so, but I do not know which of us will…that is, will…”
Glorfindel smiled tenderly at the man’s question and answered him thus,
“You will find in your travels that some have a preference to take and some have a preference to yield, though I will tell you that it is good either way. Most of the time, Erestor prefers me to take him, but it is such a sweet thing when things are reversed. It is as a balm to the fëa to surrender fully to the one that you love.”
Standing up, the elf offered his hand and Aragorn took it. They made their way to the bed and when near, Glorfindel leaned down and gently took the man’s lips in a soft kiss. His hands moved to Aragorn’s waist and untied the strip of fabric that held the robe together, parting the cloth and exposing Aragorn’s now partly re-awakened sex. The elf’s hands moved up over the man’s chest and slid the robe off of his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Aragorn shivered as he was bared but returned the gesture and helped Glorfindel to remove his own robe.
They lay down together and Glorfindel positioned them on their sides, face to face. He took the man’s head in his hands, softly plying the dark tresses with his fingers and looked long into Aragorn’s eyes.
“I think, dear one that I shall go first and show you what it is to make love. Will you allow it?”
Swallowing hard, Aragorn answered yes, but continued,
“It will hurt, will it not?”
“I will not lie to you, Aragorn. You are untried and it will burn, just a little. But I will prepare you well and take you as I ought. I promise that in a flash of white light you will forget the pain and know only pleasure. Shall we continue?”
Aragorn answered with a swift kiss to the great Elf-lord’s mouth and Glorfindel proceeded, returning the kiss and then deepening it. Aragorn responded, entwining his tongue with that of the elf and soon they were engaged in fervent touching and tasting.
Glorfindel settled the man on his back and moved his lips over Aragorn’s neck, remembering to limn the small depression that made the man squirm. He laved and he nipped provoking the man’s body until his nipples rose on their own. Taking a stiff peak into his mouth, Glorfindel suckled. Aragorn arched into him, the small nub now so sensitive that he could barely withstand Glorfindel’s sweet ministrations.
The elf used his hands in conjunction, barely touching Aragorn’s skin as he let his fingertips wander over the dúnadan’s prone form. Up and down Aragorn’s body they wafted, touching his sides and gently playing over his abdomen, nearly touching, but not quite the man’s now fully engorged sex.
Glorfindel wandered farther, his mouth now so near to the turgid arousal that Aragorn heaved up, but the elf’s hands on his hipbones held him firmly in place while his tongue swirled a circle around the man’s naval and dipped in.
Glorfindel paused for a moment and reached for the vial that he had secreted nearby. Once opened, he liberally coated his fingers with the viscous liquid and widened the man’s thighs, drawing his legs upward and apart, displaying that which he desired. Aragorn’s thighs shook in his hands, but Glorfindel continued, his mouth dropping down to lick at the sacs that were so near his target.
Aragorn started when he felt Glorfindel’s finger circle his opening, but soon relaxed into the intimate touch and groaned as he felt the first knuckle slip slowly inside. Gently Glorfindel worked, slipping that long finger further with each inward stroke and soon it was fully enveloped by the man’s grasping heat. He withdrew it and added another, and while poised at the entrance, licked upward over Aragorn’s erection as he slowly plied the ringed muscle. Opening slightly and then closing, the elf dilated the man’s tight passage, widening it a bit further with each motion until easily the two fingers slid in and slid out.
Aragorn was stunned by this feeling, at once so new and so intimate. It hurt but a little and in fact he liked it, this feeling of fullness and his body involuntarily thrust down upon Glorfindel’s hand. He cried out as Glorfindel quickened the pace, the two slippery fingers advancing and withdrawing and before Aragorn could register it, three fingers, now tented worked the dark passage.
Glorfindel took the head of Aragorn’s weeping erection into his mouth and with a finger sought for the small gland deep inside him. Feeling the small bump he increased the pressure, sliding his finger over and over it. While plying the passage and hitting his sweet spot, Glorfindel took Aragorn’s hard column down into his mouth and opened his throat. The man thrust ferociously, throbbing and pulsing in the elf’s mouth and then spasmed as Glorfindel hit the gland one more time. Held briefly in time, Aragorn felt his body expand and then he erupted, long spools of white lightning jetting into the elf’s mouth.
Aragorn felt Glorfindel’s lips smile around him while he swallowed the man’s offering and gasped in short breaths as the elf let the now softened flesh slip from his mouth. He looked up at the man and saw the red blush spread from Aragorn’s face to his chest and reached out to touch the bright heat as it inched its way down his body. Pulling himself up equal with the man, Glorfindel spoke.
“Though I would love to behold your face as I take you, and with one who holds your soul, there is nothing better, this first time I think it will be better for you if you laid on your side. Let me help you.’
Glorfindel lay closely next to him and turned Aragorn so that their bodies spooned. Encircling the man’s waist with his arms, he gently nudged upward with his right thigh moving the man’s higher leg with it and opened the way for what would come next. His right hand moved slowly and with fingers splayed inched from Aragorn’s waist to his hips and then over the taut buttock. He reached the pulsating passage and eased in two fingers, assuring himself of the man’s readiness. When he deemed it so, the fingers withdrew and Glorfindel positioned his straining erection at the small aperture.
“Are you ready Aragorn?”
The man answered by pushing himself backward and inhaling a great breath. At that moment, Glorfindel plunged, deeming it kinder to take him in one stroke, and stilled once he felt his sacs hit Aragorn’s perineum. The man let out his breath in a long guttural sound and Glorfindel squeezed his eyes closed, at once regretting the discomfort that he had caused and relishing the tightness that surrounded him so completely. He paused to let the man get used to his girth and then slowly withdrew, just a little and then again inched himself inward. He repeated this motion and soon was pulling out until the glans was just seated inside the tight ring. Aragorn began moving with him, pushing as he thrust and Glorfindel moaned as the rhythm quickly built.
He redirected his angle of entry and knew he hit rightly when a long series of “Ai’s” flew from Aragorn’s mouth in harmony with the now faster advances. Momentum built in thrust and counterthrust, until Aragorn near wept with want of release. The elf reached around him and grasped the weeping phallus and began stroking, not so gently this time, urging the man to let go of his seed.
“Ai Aragorn, yes. Come with me now.”
And for the third time that night, Aragorn felt hot liquid burst from his sex, covering Glorfindel’s hand with the essence. The elf lunged forward, sinking as far as he could into the man and then at last, he let himself go. He had held back for so long that his whole body convulsed and in great waves did the euphoria come over him as he ejected deep into the tight cavern.
Glorfindel embraced the man as he softened and then slowly withdrew. They both shook in the aftermath and the elf kissed Aragorn’s neck before separating himself.
“Are you alright, pen-neth?”
“Yes” Aragorn gasped out. He turned to face Glorfindel and reached out his hand to touch the majestic elf who had wrung everything out of him.
“I do not know what to say. I was so full and then I felt emptied of everything all at once. It was thrilling Glorfindel, and I felt transported as if not here at all. I have no words….”
“Ah Aragorn, it is well. And there are no words. Wait until you do this with your beloved, it is beyond understanding as both fëa and hroa meet and you soar together.”
Are you in pain?”
“Just a little, but it is a good ache. I will remember this night forever.”
Glorfindel held him close and asked,
“Would you like to rest for a while? You have been drained three times this evening, which I think is a lot for a man, even one as young as yourself. Elves have an amazing capacity to re-kindle, but I think it is different for men. Are you finished? Or will you now show me what you have learned?”
Aragorn laughed and then sighed aloud.
“I am not sure. I think I could do it and would like to, but perhaps after a little while. May I use your bathing chamber to refresh myself?”
“By all means, pen-neth. Would you like for me to cleanse you? I would get some towels and some water….”
“Still yourself, Glorfindel. Though I would not mind your hands upon me once more, I will do this. I will be right back.”
Aragorn left him and reached for the robe that had fallen so recently into a heap onto the floor. Draping it around his shoulders he moved to the bathing chamber and once alone dropped the robe off of his body and stood naked in front of the mirror. He was stunned by what had just happened and stood awestruck, considering his body anew. He looked long in wonder, trying to decide if he had changed and torqued his body back and forth the better to see anything different about his person. But other than the flushed cheeks, his body was the same and Aragorn smiled broadly as he came to the conclusion that that which he sought was an inward conversion and did not reflect upon his body.
He finished his ablutions and wiped the sweat from his face. He toweled off his new-made sex and then took a swipe between his legs. He paused as he did so, the small opening still pulsating and Aragorn shivered in remembrance. With a start, he came out of himself when he heard Glorfindel’s call.
“Are you well, Aragorn?”
“Oh yes, quite.” answered the man and took a long breath as he steeled himself for the last of his lessons.
He emerged from the bathing chamber to see Glorfindel sitting once again at the table; this time unclothed, and marveled again at the sheer beauty of the warrior elf. He noticed that Glorfindel had built up the fire and a full goblet of wine awaited him. He smiled at the elf and took his place at the table, taking up the glass with still quivering fingers and drinking deep of its contents. Glorfindel smiled back and then took his leave, excusing himself as he went to clean up.
While he was absent, Aragorn’s eyes swept the room, fixing in his mind every detail. He would ever remember this night and was so grateful that this first lesson had been at the experienced but tender hands of the magnificent elf. He thought of Erestor, and then of them together, burnished skin against pale white, obsidian locks entangled with gold. The vision rekindled his arousal and he felt his shaft rise. He smiled at thought of the student now showing the teacher that his lessons were well learned.
When Glorfindel returned, he was taken aback by the now predatory gleam in Aragorn’s eyes. He stopped still for a moment, inwardly smiling at the man’s precocity but soon the smile broke outwardly as he recognized the message that Aragorn had sent and he walked toward the man.
In a trice, Aragorn had him wrapped in an eager embrace and caught Glorfindel’s lips in an elegant kiss. Bending the elf slightly backward, Aragorn’s mouth moved to the elf’s ears and began to lick, his tongue learning its whorls and indentures.
Glorfindel moaned as the man lapped and allowed himself the pleasure of just drowning in it now. The man had learned well and Glorfindel gave into it, no longer the teacher but a full recipient of Aragorn’s keen ministrations and his fingers dug into the man’s back as the pressure built.
Aragorn edged them to the bed and Glorfindel let the man lay him down, opening his legs for the man to fall into him. Aragorn, now nestled firmly between the elf’s thighs ground his sex into Glorfindel’s, the rigid columns sliding against one another. He held onto the long golden hair as he took Glorfindel’s mouth in an impassioned kiss, prying his lips open and inserting his tongue.
He dropped his hands to the elf’s body and in deepening strokes moved over the pliant flesh. He kneaded and rolled and soon took Glorfindel’s nipples into his fingers. He pinched and Glorfindel moaned and Aragorn instigated more by closing his fingers tighter. Glorfindel arched and rose up to meet him, a series of long gasps escaping from the elf’s mouth.
Aragorn slithered his body downward and took the elf’s phallus into his throat, fervently working up and down the alabaster column. Glorfindel seized and grasped Aragorn’s head, pulling it up and off of his now raging sex.
“Ai, Aragorn stop.” cried the elf as he reached between his legs and grabbed his sex at its base. Squeezing it tightly and closing his eyes, his abdomen heaved as he stopped the eruption.
Calming himself, he explained to the man,
“I would come with you Aragorn, when it is time. I took myself in hand to hold back my release and this can be used in love play to torment your partner. You are doing so now and I would have you continue.”
Glorfindel reached out for the small vial and thrust it into Aragorn’s hands.
“Finish it.” said the elf.
Laying back, Glorfindel fully opened himself to Aragorn’s attention and the man popped the cork on the vial. He drizzled the liquid over his fingers and found Glorfindel’s passage, inserting a tentative finger inside.
“Pen-neth please.” the elf gasped out, “I am not untried – just do it.”
More boldly now, Aragorn worked two fingers inside of the elf but still paused, marveling at how it felt, the tightness molding around his fingers. He withdrew them and then plunged again, the now slickened passage providing easy access and then Aragorn quickly added a third.
Moaning, the elf spoke once more.
“Aragorn, feel for it. There is a small bump toward the front and a little farther in. It is the place that when stroked shot white light through your being. Remember?”
Aragorn smiled at such remembrance and slid a finger home, turning his palm upward and then felt it. Glorfindel’s reaction told him he aimed true and he did it once more. Arching off of the bed Glorfindel cried out and so pleased was Aragorn with what he had wrought that he prodded again and again, so beautiful was the elf in his bliss.
“Please Aragorn! Now!”
Needing no further instruction, Aragorn coated his dripping shaft with the oil, mingling the two viscous liquids with his fingers and placed himself at Glorfindel’s opening. Glorfindel lifted his thighs near to his chest and Aragorn advanced, plunging into the velvet passage. His breath came in open mouthed pants as the tightness engulfed him and so enraptured was he that he stopped for a moment. The elf’s voice broke through the man’s delirium, pleading,
Withdrawing, Aragorn reveled in the sweet suction and plunged home once more. Freely now, he moved forth and drew back and gritted his teeth as the fervor consumed him. He knew he had glanced over the small nub when he heard the elf gasp and endeavored to hit it with each succeeding thrust, and relished the elf’s reaction as Glorfindel writhed under him.
Finally all thoughts flew out of his mind as he took the golden warrior, in thrust and counterthrust he took him and as he felt the glorious elf’s legs wrap around his waist he could hold on no more. Grasping blindly for Glorfindel’s hardened flesh, he stroked hard and their outcries melded in harmony as both man and elf came, the elf’s essence bathing the man’s hand and the man’s seed shooting deep into the elf’s clasping passage.
Aragorn stopped still, awestruck, and breathed deeply through his nose and out through his mouth, before sinking into and over Glorfindel’s body but still enfolded in the elf’s depths. Glorfindel’s unwound his legs and lowered them and he held onto the man tightly as they descended together from the heights of their passion. He heard Aragorn whimper as the now softened flesh slipped from his body.
Glorfindel was the first to speak as he held Aragorn to him, whispering hoarsely,
“Ai hîr-nin, that was so good. So good.”
He strung his fingers through Aragorn’s hair and stroked gently before pulling the man’s head to meet his. He gathered the man’s lips in a thoughtful kiss, making the man feel the sweet satiation that he found in Aragorn’s loving.
Glorfindel broke the embrace and helped Aragorn up. The man’s knees buckled as he rose and Glorfindel steadied him, taking Aragorn’s hand and squeezing lightly.
Glorfindel smiled as he led the man from the bed and together they stood. Aragorn leaned against him, so utterly spent, so boneless he could barely stand up, but Glorfindel‘s strong arms embraced him.
“I would give you a new name, Aragorn.”
He laughed as he said it, knowing in his prescience that it would only be one of many.
“And what would that be?” asked the man.
“Melethron.” answered the elf.
Aragorn eyes brightened and a broad smile spread over his face. At last his breath came normally and he swept the elf into his arms and offered a grateful and heartfelt kiss.
“Now do you feel ready to go out in the world? As surely as I can tell you, you have mastered this art and need feel no reticence about using what you have learned. Though as with anything, practice makes perfect and I trust you will continue with your education.”
“Oh yes, I think so!” answered Aragorn, enthusiastically. His mind drifted briefly to his upcoming visit to the Greenwood as he added,
Glorfindel stood at the top of the stairs, arm softly seated at the curve of Erestor’s waist.
They watched together as Aragorn finishing packing and then took up the knapsack and slung it over his shoulder.
Turning around, Aragorn first went to his father, embracing the elf-Lord while murmuring words of thanks and farewell. He turned next to his brothers and the twins raucously encircled him, picking him up and dropping him back down as they said their goodbyes.
Finally he strode toward Erestor and Glorfindel, who surrounded him with their arms, gently squeezing. Glorfindel smiled as he bid Aragorn farewell and with a gleam in his eye whispered his parting words,
“Happy hunting, melethron.”
A/N: All elvish words are Sindarin and are taken either from David Salo’s A Gateway to Sindarin (The University of Utah Press, 2004) or from Tolkien’s own works.
Mellon-nin – my friend
Pen-neth – young one
Adan - man
Ellyth – female elf (singular)
Ai – ah
Fëa – soul
Dúnadan – man of the west
Hroa – body
Hîr –nin – my lord
Melethron – lover (male)