Lustful Dreams (Turgon/Glorfindel/Imrahil)

[vilwarien.livejournal.com]

Author: Vilwarin

Email: indelin@gmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Turgon/Glorfindel/Imrahil
Warnings: Voyeurism
Request: silmarillin or lotr, romance, angst
Summary: Glorfindel gives Imrahil a difficult time -- and stranger dreams 

It was summer of the strangest year Imrahil had ever experienced, a year that had cost them much but given them even more. Something had happened that none of them had ever expected: The Dark Lord had been defeated and there was a king again in the White City. Even though he had lost his brother-in-law and nephew, he had all reason to be happy. And he had been happy -- till that fateful day on midsummer. He had tried to tell himself not to be silly, that it was just the awe of a person out of history, that it had nothing to do with bodily attraction. But even as he did so, he knew that he was wrong. He was more beautiful than any man Imrahil had ever seen. The first glance of him -- clad in armor and riding on a proud horse -- had taken his breath away. Not even the beauty of the lady Arwen could deter him from his infatuation with the elf-man. Glorfindel. All this frustrated Imrahil to no end because he normally was a man of reason that had never given in to any temptation. He had always been strong, but he just could not stop thinking...

But the worst were the dreams that assaulted him at night ever since he had seen the elf for the first time. They carried him away from everything he had ever known and he was granted a sight that few mortals had ever seen. He had already wandered the streets of Gondolin by day as well as by night, but none of the inhabitants ever seemed to notice his presence. Which was all for the good, Imrahil thought, because many a time the city's beauty left him standing open-mouthed, trying to brand the image into his mind so that he could take them with him into the waking world.

And sometimes he would see him, the lord of the House of the Golden Flower in all his glory, wandering through the streets, mostly alone; but this night he was accompanied by another elf of proud bearing that Imrahil did not recognise. So Imrahil decided to follow them throught the nightly streets. At last they entered a dark building that appeared to be an empty storage room and Imrahil managed to slip through the door just in time before it was shut.

Imrahil could not understand what they whispered to each other, but it was clear to him that it was no formal meeting but rather a clandestine rendezvous the two were having. He leaned against the wall and wondered what he should do. He knew what he ought to do: Leave the two of them to their... pleasure? Imrahil's heart began to beat faster and his stomach fluttered. "Go", his conscience told him, but "stay" was what was on his mind. Here was the one he had desired for many days, both yearning and knowing that such a thing was impossible for him to get. By the Valar, he would not miss this!

"Turgon," Glorfindel breathed as the dark-haired elf pressed him against the wall and kissed his throat, "love me". He pulled Turgon towards him into a breath-taking kiss. After a long moment, the two of them parted Turgon pressed Glorfindel against the stonewall and busied himself with the buttons of the blond lord's elaborate tunic. Soon the garment fell away and his alabaster skin was exposed to the night air. Imrahil found himself breathing heavily as he watched Glorfindel fall on his knees and freeing Turgon from his trousers.

"Too long, it has been far too long since our last meeting. If only our love were not forbidden."

"Hush," Turgon replied and pressed Glorfindel's face against his groin, "we have not much time."

He turned to the side so that Imrahil could not see more of what was going on than their shadow on the other end of the room. For a moment he could not move; but Turgon's groans told him enough. His own trousers were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight and soon he had to release his own member. Suddenly the groans stopped and the two elves toppled to the floor, Glorfindel coming to sit on top of his dark haired companion. In a flurry of motion, he positioned himself and buried his shaft to the hilt in Turgon. The other cried out in momentary pain, but then urged him on to move faster.

Imrahil's hand moved to his own hard penis and rubbed it in tune with Glorfindel's thrusts, imagining it to be him and not the elf Glorfindel was paying attention to. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a groan as he came. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the two elves staring at him. They had seen him!

"What do we do with unwanted guests and voyeurs no less, Glorfindel?" Turgon asked in a dangerous tone as he stood up and walked towards Imrahil.

"Why, we throw him from atop the city walls, of course! But first, we could have a bit of fun together, him, you and me. What do you think? He has been trailing me for many days."

"You are too wise, my dearest friend." Gracefully like cats they sprang as one and tackled Imrahil to the floor. He landed hard on his back and was momentarily stunned. He felt hot hands tearing at his tunic and the cold of the stone beneath him seeping through his clothing. Suddenly a mouth was pressed on his and he kissed back hungrily, relishing the feel of soft lips that were still definitely male. Fear of the pain that might come assailed him, but he tried to push it to the back of his mind as well as he could.

"I will show you how it is done," Glorfindel whispered, gave him another kiss, then leaned back, letting his tongue create a moist trail over his chest towards his groin. There he stopped and Imrahil tried to lift his head to see what was going on, but Turgon pressed him back to the ground.

"Now try to relax as well as possible. That will minimise the pain, for we have nothing to ease the passage."

He took a deep breath, trying to relax and waiting for the pain. But it never came.

***
It was still dark when Imrahil woke with a start, breathing heavily. The storage room was gone and he found himself sitting in his warm, soft bed. He groaned in frustration of having missed the pleasure and let out a soft groan. He wiped away the sweat that had accumulated during his nightly journey and lay back, trying to be still. He looked at the figure of his wife sleeping next to him and caressed her hair softly. Maybe he could wake her and find his release here. But that would not be fair to the woman lying next to him. No, he would suffer in silence as long as he must. The elf would leave soon and all the discomfort would be gone. Then he would belong to the one that was legally his unto death. For the good of all, he must leave his hands where they belonged. In reality as well as in dreams.