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Coronar
by The Tired Scribe
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Rating: R
Pairings: Elrond/Erestor/Other pairing
Summary: 24 Summer Hours in Rivendell During a Meteor Shower.

Feedback: Write me if you want to. I might even answer.

Notes: Uses movie and books as basic canon-with embellishments m/m. A short one, you don't have to slog so far this time ;>


Shooting Stars

Rivendell, in a time before the Great Ring's discovery...

A few hours after sunrise, Erestor climbed the winding stairs that wound around the exterior of the Great House and led to Elrond's study. He carried a basket of fresh bread under a cloth, which he planned to leave, and he had already sent breakfast along. He was going to check in and check out, and collapse for the day. He had someone waiting for him in his chambers, someone special, with dark eyes, firm fingers, strong legs and insatiable lips, he had a little shiver of anticipation, delighted to think of a lazy day off. They might not leave the bed until dinner, and maybe not then! He passed a page flying down the stairs, the one he had sent along earlier with scrambled eggs and fruit, breakfast for Elrond.

The early morning sunlight was soft and warm along the stone wall and the stairs. The light breeze was refreshing and fragrant, the river burbled and splashed merrily along its rocky course beneath the Great House and birds sang and swooped around the eaves.

"This is Rivendell's true spirit," he thought, "the welcoming and safe haven that embraces its inhabitants and visitors with a feeling of comfort and security. This is life back to its normal rhythm." Day after lazy summer day could roll by without count, weeks were lost in a dream, and seasons flowed one into the next. The long lived Elves noted the start of Spring or the beginning of Autumn, with song and celebration, Winter was marked by the busy end of year accounting, and summer passed in one long blissful series of sleepy days and lazy nights spent wandering under the stars.

Last night had been especially pleasing; the community was out along the lawns and in the glades to see the second evening of shooting stars. Fireflies and soft lanterns lit the night until the meteor shower began Singing and dancing took place in the luxuriant soft grass, nuzzling and snuggling in the little garden nooks and along the hanging balconies, and all paused whatever they were doing to take in the spectacular show in the heavens. Wine flowed, laughter and song rang out and the minutes and hours flowed into a single endless moment of time. Flashes and streaks of light among the pinpoints of their beloved stars rewarded long hours gazing into the inky sky. Erestor had danced until dawn, pleased that the community had returned to its familiar summer routine after the traumatic murder of the dwarf Gwalor last winter, and the unsettled start of spring. The grooms still gave him trouble about the now famous racing episode, though the horses were not injured. He did not worry overmuch about the "What ifs." The end was worth the means that week.

Erestor had enjoyed the night before as well, the first night of the shooting stars' performance. From their watching place along the cliffside in a small garden carved out of a ledge, Elrond and Erestor had enjoyed the flashes of light and wafting song while entangled in one another's arms along the mossy bank. Their teasing kisses and roaming fingers were building a nice little fire within them when sounds from nearby stopped them in their play. They listened with caught breath and suppressed giggles as another pair of lovers settled in obliviously nearby with breathless whispers and rustling grasping.

Elrond exchanged a wide-eyed look with Erestor in the dim light of the few lanterns that hung along the path, one exit was blocked by the pair whose mounting passion was expressed in sighs and moans. As managers of the community of Rivendell, they knew much of the business of the residents, however privacy for joining was respected for the most part, and preserved the loving and free- spirited environment that characterized the community. Without a word, they rose silently and carefully made their way back along the opposite descending path with tolerant smiles. They had been joined immediately by others and drawn along by the arms to the party on the grassy greenswards. With resigned shrugs they went their separate ways and joined the festivities. Such was life. They then spent yesterday involved in their own business, resting and preparing for the events of last night, the second night of the festival.

In the sparking sunlight of the morning Erestor climbed the last flight of stairs and entered the study, walking past damp leggings laid to dry on the railing. The study gleamed in the aftermath of spring-cleaning. Wood had been polished, papers and maps tidied, tapestries aired and swept, bottles dusted and the tile floor scrubbed clean. The order was slightly disturbed by a robe hanging here and wet shoes in a puddle laid there. He had seen that mighty splash of cold river water descend upon the Master of the House, he had managed to jump back and avoid the flying droplets himself.

The large desk was clear of clutter, except for a few breadcrumbs, a few jars of jelly and some crumpled napkins, but its rich wooden surface showed streaks and smears in the glancing sunbeams. Erestor set the basket down on the empty desk and wiped a dollop of jam off its surface with a cloth from the breadbasket. A new batch of flavors from the previous season had been brought up from the cool storage caves yesterday and Elrond was supposed to be tasting the variety, and selecting a jar for his use. From the messy looks of the crocks, some tasting had gone on all right.

Lindefal sat back in an oversized chair by the fireplace, feet extended out to a small stool, with a plate balanced on the broad arm of the chair. He looked a bit disheveled, his clothes loosely drawn around him, bare feet propped up on the small stool before him. He smeared jam from a large crock across a whopping slab of bread with great relish, and while tucking into Elrond's breakfast he said, "These eggs are still warm, want some?"

Erestor moved across the room to sit in the chair across from Lindefal with a plop. He stretched his long legs out before him and slumped back in his chair. "Thanks, I already had some in the kitchen." He had joined the large group who had descended upon the pantries and kitchens for an impromptu sunrise breakfast, eaten while perched along the steps and counters of the array of interconnecting rooms. Flour still dusted Erestor's backside, a coating gained when he had breakfasted atop a pile of plump sacks just in from the mill. He knew someone who be happy to brush it away in a few minutes.

The informal fellowship and tired joking at breakfast had been the perfect end to a gentle and delightful night of simple pleasures. Rubbing elbows with his partner for the day, he had sealed the agreement with a smile and a wink. Bringing along more fresh bread straight from the ovens, he came to confirm with Elrond that absolutely nothing was on the schedule for today. Then he was off into his own world, to warm loving arms and blissful rest, with door latched firmly behind him. The Seneschal of the Household was taking a well-deserved day off.

It was very quiet in the study, no splashing of a bath, no footsteps. "Elrond upstairs?" he asked as Lindefal selected another slice of warm bread from the plate and again slathered rich red jam across its surface. He licked his fingers with careful deliberation, breakfast time after a busy night was his favorite time of the day. Sweet, sticky jam licked off any surface was enjoyable for Lindefal, and Elrond had not minded this playful silliness either a few hours ago.

As last night had drawn to a close, dancing in the chill water and then horseplay in the shallow riverlets had dunked some revelers. Elrond had managed to just be very well splashed as he headed home. Erestor had stepped back in time to miss the droplets altogether, laughing with others at the dripping victims. Elrond had squished up the stairs and into his study, kicking off wet shoes. He removed his damp robe and hung it on the back of a chair to dry. He started to peel off damp leggings as well, the wet silky fabric clinging to his legs. Lindefal had pointed out that the floor was newly scrubbed clean, and would Elrond please be careful where he put his damp things? He had laughed hardily as Elrond hopped around the study trying to shed the wet garment, which seemed to stubbornly want to stay right where it was. He whirled about and came to rest seated on the desk, and Lindefal had finally assisted with a grin, peeling the sticking leggings off slowly. He placed them out in the fresh air to dry on the railing.

Lindefal's suggestion of a breakfast of toast and jam had rapidly turned to other activities. Smears of gooey jam were licked off fingers, then lips, and then it was reapplied. Long hair dragged through streaks of it along cheeks and in the hollow of the shoulder, where sticky kisses were laid along the nerve centers there. Earlobes blushed naturally under the rosy sauce as warm tongues caressed curve and sensitive edge, flavored with the sweetness of last summer's berries. Remaining clothing hit the floor in layers. The cleared desk had been a handy surface for the body painting games, and the gentle and playful stroking, licking and sucking had been made more interesting with the flavor and texture of the jellies and jam spread well around. Poetry appeared in berry colored script, the elegant and flowing strokes of Elvish script were particularly teasing along Lindefal's stomach and hips. A taste of this jelly here, and that jam there, ticklish spots, warm spots and tender spots all received their share of gelatinous smears of sweet delight. Long time companions, relaxed and content after the pleasant evening, they were comfortable in this silly dalliance between old lovers.

But this simple play had become more in a short time. A lick and a kiss had suddenly brought them to the edge and over. They paused, and a look snapped and sparked between their dark eyes, smiles deepened with shared understanding. Auras flared and the psychically emotional atmosphere enveloped them with warmth as it did when Elves joined one to another. A passion and a burning need had gripped them simultaneously, and sweat and berry jam glued them together in a crush of unparalleled ecstasy. Grappling and grabbing, the motion and friction of their sticky bodies led them to stronger actions and more intense desire. Every kiss, every nip or touch as hands slid along long limbs and rippled stomachs drove them deeper into lust for more.

The falling stars of the night could not compare to the flashing lights in their minds as pent up energy boiled and built to an unbearable level. Somehow in the tangle atop the desktop, Lindefal had slid beneath them, and with feet planted on the tile floor; he leaned over and grabbed the other edge of the broad desk with iron fingers. Elrond flowed over him as a fluid mass, covering him with body and hands, seeking a firm hold on broad shoulders. Spreading bites and kisses along shoulders and back, he slid down also and his feet found the warm tiles beneath them. Mutual desire and need flowed between them and increased as a result of the echoed psychic feedback of sensations. They were joined as one aurally and mentally, and with a jelly-slicked thrust and slow slide, they were soon one entity physically as well. Lindefal threw his head back and arched against the hard desk at the prolonged, sticky entry, but he soon melted past the searing wash of pleasure and pain as increasing motion built into a pummeling, driven by great passion and a need for more, more, more sensation.

Elrond slid down and reached around slender hips to take Lindefal firmly in hand. The unplanned joining and gentle playful beginnings, and the sudden onslaught of desire, led to an unexpected spiraling building of sexual tension. Lindefal curled beneath him with a deep rumbling moan of pleasure. As he felt he muscles tighten and coil beneath him, Elrond finished his partner off with deft fingers. Following his mental implosion with physical jerking and pulsing, Lindefal's release splattered the floor tiles. Elrond's heightened senses registered the shift of mounting lust to waves of joy and satisfaction flowing to back to him. The hoarse cries pushed him beyond endurance and with renewed energy he pleased himself with the few final thrusts it took to drive his mind deep inside to the place of exploding lights and sounds, where the rest of the universe did not exist beyond the whirling sensations of need and want, and the burning point of sensation where he was buried in bliss. Their unrestrained cries carried out the wide and open windows into the rosy dawn of the morning. Finely carved and broad in surface, the desk was heavy enough not to budge an inch, whether piled high with paper work or piled high with writhing and thrusting bodies. It held them as they collapsed, and slid to the floor in a shuddering pile of quivering flesh and gasping breaths.

"Well, is he awake?" Asked Erestor with a look upstairs. A laugh and a slow negative nod answered him. "He cleaned up and went to bed. It was a busy night," Lindefal answered, with the last bite of eggs disappearing into a broad grin. A quick splashing scrub in the washbasin had removed nearly all the fruit and berry flavored jam and jelly from their ears, hair and other hidden places. Well nearly all the little places. Lindefal shifted in the chair with a slight itch he could not scratch just now.

"So, there is nothing to do today but recover then?" Erestor confirmed. "If you only knew," thought Lindefal with another chuckle. He did not think he could get out of the chair right now even if he had wanted to. "Well, then I am off, I have someone waiting for me", said Erestor. "I might see you at dinner tonight, I might not." Lindefal gave him a wave as he left, and settled back into the soft cushions. He was planning a nice little nap right here while the coals died down in fireplace. His participation in the night's festival activities, and those afterward, had done him in.

Birds chattered and sang, the river flowed and the sun rose high into the sky. Rivendell napped under the late springtime sun, settling into the pattern that would take it lazily through the coming summer months. Guests and visitors slipped into this unrestricted and easy schedule with little difficulty once their personal concepts of time slipped away from their grasp. Time stretched and flowed to a different rhythm here.

At midday Lindefal had wandered up the curving staircase into the loft bedchamber and he stood silently looking at Elrond. He was dreaming with eyes half closed, lying peacefully on his stomach; spread-eagled dead center across the gigantic square bed. Lindefal was thankful they had come through another round of seasons to summer without serious mishap as he watched the slow and regular breathing. Winter was the worst time of the year for the inner circle of friends. Tormented days and nights had deeply disturbed the sleeping figure in the last few months. The angry bruise and deep cut across his cheek from the horserace last month had mostly healed, but the slash still remained a long dark streak across pale skin. The lazy run of days at Rivendell was not always peaceful for everyone, sometimes it was not exactly as mellow as legends would describe.

Elrond's dark hair lay in tangled coils across his shoulders, his pale skin was dappled in the sunlight through trees beyond the high windows. Muscular ribs tapered to slender waist and the snowy sheets were folded back and caught up around his legs. As Lindefal gently gathered the tussled covers and pulled them up and over the still form, a sleepy eye opened, then closed, and the slender fingers of an outstretched arm patted the bed beside him. Lindefal shed his unlaced tunic and his loosened leggings and slid into the warm spot along side Elrond. The slender fingers and a strong arm gathered him close, and as they nestled like spoons, Elrond gave him a soft kiss on the shoulder and a sweet sigh into his hair as he drifted off again. Drowsing himself, Lindefal mused, "This is how it should be always, we earned this peace with blood and sweat and loss. We deserve serene companions, a beautiful home, lazy days, and carefree nights. We fight to maintain it." The events of the night and the morning were warm in his mind. A few shooting stars now and then just added some spice. Wasn't that what made life in Rivendell the stuff of legend?"

The End

Continued in "Days of Harvest and Pain"

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