Our favourite golden haired seneschal had found himself in a corridor. What is wrong with that, you ask? Nothing. Nothing whatsoever, except for the fact that he had been summoned by the love of his life - our favourite dark haired advisor, Erestor.

Whilst he was walking, Glorfindel could not avoid the paths his mind decided to explore. "Why?" was the first question. That, of course, led to a rather amusing train of thoughts - Erestor was a mad elf! No one could force ANY type of change upon his life. True, the couple lived together, to our endless joy, as well as the joy of the entirety of Imladris, whose inhabitants dreamed of the day when the two would stop tearing each other apart, while secretly loving and desiring one another. Their chambers were huge, maybe even bigger than Lord Elrond's, which is, whether you would believe it or not, quite possible, since the Lord had got up on to his desk and started dancing in front of the eyes of an extremely confused host of dwarves upon hearing the sighs of pleasure coming from Erestor's bedchamber. And what else could Elrond have done? Nothing, except giving them the biggest chambers he could find as their wedding present. None of the dwarves could hear the elven sighs, true, but each and every one of them concluded that elves were a rather crazy lot, noticing the entire house cheering all of a sudden in the bright daylight.

All in all, dwarves had to admit elves knew how to party. Seemed that the peace might be restored after all!

Now, our dear golden warrior continued walking towards Erestor's secret study. That thought put his old thinking back on the track. True, they had the bedchambers that were the envy of everyone, and not to mention the bed the size of Mount Doom - a gift from the twins. Sometimes it was even hard to find the tiny scholar's body among the sheets and bed covers. But, nonetheless, Erestor insisted on keeping his old room, as well as sabotaging Glorfindel's every attempt to give his rooms to someone else.

For a while, Glorfindel had thought that Erestor had simply had some idea of "blessing" the chamber which he practically spent a lifetime in, and was too embarrassed to ask. But they had managed to "bless" practically every room in the House, and were caught in the process several times; one of the worst being when Elladan ran into the public bath, noticed them, ran out and started yelling, "Elrohir!" so loudly that he managed to alarm the soldiers who were on patrol near the borders. And then the two stood guard at the entrance. Highly embarrassing, especially as the couple had tried to hold onto that tiny piece of dignity they had left, and the twins had barely controlled their laughter. Lord Elrond had then appointed his sons the royal guards of the Imladris' most famous couple.

Then, Glorfindel remembered, Erestor had his working chambers as well as his own library - books which would normally be used for collecting dust, but the advisor obviously found them interesting.

And also this room to which Glorfindel was heading.

So many rooms that our dearest warrior had a hard time, indeed, tracking his lover. And not to mention all the secret corridors and hidden rooms, too!

Why had he been he summoned? What did Erestor need of him? Was it really that important? These were all the questions that rang through that beautiful golden head. And those numerous thoughts of the past few years, those wonderful few years, those perfect and irreplaceable few years, preoccupied our dear warrior's mind so much that he probably wouldn't have noticed if someone bumped into him, not that anyone walked these parts of the House anyway.

And all of a sudden he was attacked from behind, pinned to the wall, and before he had even comprehended the situation he had got himself into, his hands were tied behind his back and his face covered with some sort of dark velvety cloth. And in another moment, his restrained and helpless body was once again turned around and pinned to the floor.

In the beginning, he thought the twins had decided to play with him, and he started swearing, but all of a sudden he felt an extremely familiar body sit on his legs and whisper into his ear.

"Hello, my love. I see you have received my message." The words were deep and Glorfindel thought he was going to die if his lover all of a sudden refused to continue with his plans.

"Erestor," he mumbled in surprise, trying to touch and kiss him, but the rope and the cover would not let him. "And what did you want of me?"

"Mmm," the deep voice purred as the body shifted upon him. "You will soon find out."

He did not mind this. Not at all. Although he was in an unnatural position; his shoulders ached because of his restrained arms, and he could use some fresh air. Not to mention that it was about time for him to take over control. But no, he did not mind this at all.

Erestor's movements were rather mechanical, and if this had been any other situation, they would be far from erotic. As though, Glorfindel thought, he had got rather drunk and Erestor was helping him with his clothes. Not that he wouldn't have used the drunkenness if it had been the other way around, but Erestor would surely have refused it.

Blurred by alcohol, Glorfindel had pushed it few times in the past, and he had found himself in the situation of having to choose between his or Erestor's old bed to sleep in for the night. The way he saw it, Erestor just did not have that little spark of adventure; and Glorfindel certainly had more than enough for both of them.

The slender fingers were unbuttoning his tunic and by now blood, together with any other thoughts besides stripping Erestor, evaded his mind and decided to go… elsewhere.

Erestor purred at the realisation that all it took were a few buttons to put Glorfindel in the state he was in, and even less blood travelled to the upper parts of our warrior's body.

"Erestor, please," he begged, hardly creating words. But what did he beg for, indeed? For him to let go? No, no, definitely not. For him to stop? Not in a million years. For him to untie him? Yes, probably that. Surely, it must have been that.

"Be a good elf, Glorfindel, or," Erestor moved closer to whisper seductively into his ear, "I just might leave you here."

Glorfindel calmed down so fast that Erestor even thought for a moment that the other had fainted. But he knew better.

Slender fingers continued undressing him, unbuttoning the tunic and the shirt and pushing them off his muscular shoulders, at which point the silk was stopped because of the obvious rope.

Glorfindel adjusted better towards Erestor for he expected a wave of kisses on his chest. He waited a moment or ten, and then exposed his chest even more, expecting at least a kiss or two.

None came.

"No, Glorfindel," the deep voice purred, "that is not what I want."

He wanted to beg and scream, but then he might find himself naked, tied and alone, exposed and at the mercy of the next fool that wandered these parts. But it was painfully obvious that the only fool at the moment was him.

The marble floor and the stone wall were not as cold and uncomfortable as they had been at first, but all Glorfindel could think of was that enormous bed of theirs; that painfully comfortable bed.

His leggings were being untied, so his thoughts escaped to somewhere else once again. Only this time, his need was so strong that he did not care what his words might cause to happen to him next.

"Please, Erestor," he pleaded, his voice as humble as he could make it. And putting on a humble voice was, to someone who never pleaded, but simply earned what he needed, hard indeed.

Erestor must have understood how far he had led his lover, for he decided to take pity upon him.

"What do you want?" he whispered.

"You," Glorfindel answered needily. "I want you!"

"Very well," Erestor answered victoriously. "But do a single thing I did not tell you to, and you may as well simply forget I was even here."

Glorfindel nodded like the most obedient child and, with joy, noted how his hands were being untied. He sat still, not daring to move a single muscle, completely focused on the moment when that blasted rag would be removed from his eyes.

The robes slipped down his arms and he felt Erestor taking off his leggings all the way down to his boots.

"Good elf," Erestor whispered, obviously smiling.

Glorfindel thought they would end this game finally, but the hood did not come off his head, nor was he given the permission to take it off himself.

He felt Erestor's light and warm body sit still on his legs, but he did not make any other move. Once again, our dear warrior had to fight every urge inside himself not to move, but his lips formed a simple question: "What do you want?"

Erestor's body shook as he chuckled. At least someone was amused. "What do I want?" he answered teasingly.

The seneschal listened carefully and he could hear Erestor unbuttoning his own tunic. He squeezed his hands into fists to stop them from flying towards the sound.

"What do I want?" The object of his strongest desires repeated the question, ceasing his action and moving his slim hands towards the fists, placing them on the black velvety robe.

Glorfindel's hands slowly slid over the tunic, while Erestor removed the hood and he was faced with the most beautiful sight alive - Erestor, his tunic unbuttoned and swinging on his elbows, nothing under it, just pure, one hundred percent Lord Elrond's chief advisor, with the most beautiful body on Arda.

"What do I want?" he teased once again, a playful smile on those dark long lips, sparks in his dark eyes.

"Yes," Glorfindel mumbled, touched and aroused by the sight before him. "What do you want?"

Erestor shifted and now he was on his knees, his head getting closer and closer to Glorfindel's, his lips resting just a few millimetres away from Glorfindel's cheek.

"Just a lick," his deep but playful voice said, as the soft tongue escaped his lips to do exactly what its master planned.

Once again, our brave warrior and Balrog slayer did not allow himself to blink as the soft tongue quickly licked him, and Erestor rose to his feet, quickly buttoning his tunic and disappearing behind a corner.

The last thing he heard was Erestor's polite voice saying, "Aah, Lord Elrond, I see you made it! Come, this way," and two sets of footsteps slowly fading into the distance.