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Horizon by Alpha Ori

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Table of Contents

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Story notes:
You should read The Protege, followed by Arcane Land before you attempt this one - it does not stand well on its own.
My beta reader for this story and all others, is the wonderful Mindirith.
Chapter notes:
A special thanks to Curious Wombat for her invaluable technical input, both for the prologue and chapter one.
Gracefully smooth velvet stretched over utterly rigid muscle - slid seductively, flirtingly, over his own battle-hardened palm as it traversed the impossibly beauteous curves and angles of his warrior love. The questing hand slowed down but for a moment as it glided tentatively over the ridges and swirls of twisted, uneven flesh and muscle, until it passed and all was silken glory once more.

He turned his head towards the nascent sun, closed his eyes and basked in the comforting warmth that shone upon his serene face, his hand resting protectively where it had finally ended its morning quest, softly yet possessively over the soft flesh that lay between the sprawled limbs of a slumbering king.

A soft smile graced Glorfindel’s lips as his mind wandered back to the last few months of recovery. ‘Who would have thought,’ he mused, as his hand registered the now swelling and hardening flesh below. Turning his head back to his lover, he looked down upon bright green eyes that beckoned to his own, now half-lidded and hazy – green eyes that spoke silent words to him; ‘I love you – I want you.’

The now hard flesh beneath his hand arched upwards, searching and finding the resistance it so desired, a soft gasp escaping the sensuous mouth, the plush lips that moved towards his own and took his mouth, demanding, imperious, tempting beyond all reason – dangerously irresistible.

As Glorfindel was pulled down and rolled onto his back, the now awakened Forest Lord stared down at his High Constable, and with but a mischievous yet sinfully erotic half-smile, Glorfindel of Gondolin and Imladris was covered and taken, commanded yet revered, hard and yet so very tenderly.

Later, sated and content, Glorfindel sat before the balcony doors, his open silk robe pooling opulently around his sprawled, otherwise naked body, the brush of warmth from the nearby hearth lending a cozy comfort to his already relaxed body. He felt good and he smiled as he sipped slowly and purposefully from a goblet of full, red wine he cupped in both hands, registering the potent, woody retro-nasal aroma that tickled his jaw, and then swallowing and closing his eyes as the cool, exquisite liquid flowed down his throat like a silken ribbon, and fiery, spicy air rushed from his nostrils – this was Thranduil’s brew, there could be no doubt about it.

His sharp eyes scanned the autumn gardens below, and his ears registered the sloshing of water as his lover bathed nearby. Five months, a scant five months was all it had taken to get him back on his feet, back into military life once more – stronger, wiser, more beautiful than Glorfindel had ever remembered seeing him – even his mind had found its balance once more.

Legolas would finally be declared fit for active duty today, and with that simple but explicit proclamation, Glorfindel knew that everything would begin, and there would be no turning back. What lay on the horizon was becoming stronger, no longer doubted or unfelt, but present and palpable. And yet Elvendom had still not reached consensus on the need for a high king, nor indeed for the joint elven army that Legolas had been planning laboriously for so long now - and without consensus, their plan was unviable.

Alas, it was time to rise and dress, for the happiness he had felt that morning was now accompanied by trepidation and the weight of duty, yet it was not unpleasant – how could it be? His smile was back and he rose with purpose, glided into the bathing chamber, and closed the door. Duty could wait another hour, but Glorfindel’s burning desire for Legolas could not.