Work Text:
Second Age
Annúminas
Winter in Arnor was very different from winter in southern Lindon. The hills of Emyn Uial framed its landscape and the town was on the shores of Lake Neniual. Snow stretched as far as the eye could see in the city and beyond. It was slow-moving, and the cold quickly crept in no matter how well we were covered by the persistent humidity. The city's buildings almost disappeared under the thick white blanket of snow, at least twenty centimeters thick.
After three weeks on horseback from Rivendell, the high elf king Gil-galad had finally arrived in Annúminas, the tower of the west, the capital of Arnor and of his dear friend of the exiled people, Elendil Voronda, a well-deserved break in his long journey before taking to the road again, if possible to his home. The Noldor had serious doubts about this, given the amount of snow and the deep January winter. But the elf was in no hurry to return to Forlond. He was where he belonged and knew he would spend a pleasant winter among the people of Arnor, especially with the king. He was exhausted from all his to-ing and fro-ing between the realms to prepare their defense against Sauron, who was constantly prowling Middle-earth and gaining ground.
Gil-galad knew he could warm up in Elendil's royal baths and relax after his many days in the freezing cold. The natural warm waters came from the surrounding hills and were carried back to the baths via a system of aqueducts and other pipes. The High King loved this place, so peaceful and very often deserted when he came, he suspected Elendil of privatizing them every time he came to Arnor. The place was a marvel of architecture and ingenuity. Just before going inside, Gil-galad admired the immensity of the building, the whiteness of the limestone coupled with the snow. The golden roofs were nowhere to be seen, much to his dismay. The colonnades and various parts of the exterior walls were adorned with beautiful blue or red paint, even gold leaf. Two statues of Maiar, who turned out to be Uinen, the maia of calm waters, and Ossë, maia of the seas, greeted him before he climbed the steps. The High King pushed open the heavy oak doors decorated with ivory shells.
The warmth of the place immediately drew him in, leaving the cold outside. No matter what time of day it was, the baths were always heated and lit. Gil-galad preferred the soft, mysterious atmosphere of the night and the place lit only by braziers and wall-mounted oil lamps. His boots echoed on the marble floor, filled with various blue mosaics depicting shells, dolphins and Númenor ships. He passed through the changing rooms and went straight to the baths, where he gave his body a quick wash before moving on to the hot baths, his weakness. Gil-galad first removed his boots, his heavy golden coat, then his silver tunic, his white pants and finally his shirt, which he laid on a stone bench. He entered the bath without waiting, too impatient to feel the gentle warmth on his exhausted muscles. What a joy it was to feel that warm temperature comforting him like a cocoon of softness. He allowed himself to close his eyes for a few moments, listening to the sound of water flowing into the basins and the crackling of wood in the braziers.
Suddenly, Middle-earth was no longer ablaze with Sauron lurking like a shadow. Nothing existed anymore. He reopened his eyes to pick up a terracotta pot of white clay and apply it to his whole body to wash away the grime of his riding days. The sweet smell mingled with the rosemary and lavender scents of the water. The Noldor also grabbed a sponge from a tray to remove all the excess clay and move on to the next bath: the warm waters.
At last, all the dirt washed from his body, Gil-galad stepped out of the bath, dripping with fragrant water, to grab a white cloth to wrap himself in and towel off a little to avoid any risk of slipping on the polished floor. Cautiously, he reached the biggest part of the baths: the hot waters. The temperature was rising even higher than in the previous room. Steam rose from the square white marble basin with its turquoise mosaic. The barely perceptible movement of the water was reflected on the walls and also on the gold dome. Water flowed from several fountains into the large basin. The main room of the baths was absolutely majestic, with its marine frescoes of the many ships of Númenor. Nostalgia and a deep sadness for a lost home animated these frescoes. He had a deep empathy for Elendil and the exiled Numenorians.
The high elf king took the opportunity to pick up various snacks available on a table against a wall. He took a silver tray and filled it with olives, small balls of fried pasta with honey and sesame, and cereal bars with sesame and honey. He also took a pitcher of wine and a copper goblet. He smiled at the thoughtfulness of offering him something to eat, a thoughtful gesture on Elendil's part every time.
Gil-galad withdrew his cloth from around his waist to immerse himself once more in the steaming, once again fragrant water. Ah, what a wonderful feeling the warm water had on his skin and muscles. He chose the corner of the pool to rest his head and once again closed his eyes, even beginning to hum certain verses, like a gentle melody.
“Is there a place for me?”
Elendil.
He opened his eyes again to see the high king of Gondor and Arnor in all his glory. A gentle warmth settled in his belly. This was going to be interesting.
- What do you think?
Elendil chuckled for a moment before dipping his foot into the water, right on Gil-galad's sex, which confused him sufficiently. The elf didn't give the king time to fully enter the water, however, as he grabbed him by the legs and pulled him down to embrace him, proud of what he'd done. Elendil wedged himself between the high elf king's legs as if the place were made exclusively for him. He groaned with pleasure at finding himself in such beautiful company before closing his eyes to relax in the arms of the elf he loved. The latter took the opportunity to kiss him gently on the forehead.
“I've missed you, Elen,” sighed Gil-galad.
Both men enjoyed each other's embrace and presence, as the warmth of the bath gradually numbed them. Gil-galad played with his lover's long brown hair, styling the strands with his finger. Elendil sighed at the elf's delicate touch.
“Mh, shouldn't it be my role to look after you, O high elf king? “whispered the Númenorien before turning to face Gil-galad.
Gil-galad closed his eyes to Elendil's burning touch, first on his cheek before moving down to his neck. Finally, he kissed her languorously before stepping back and concentrating on the touch of the elf's dark hair.
“This hair needs a lot of care and attention. It's just as well, I've brought everything I need to maintain it, and then we'll move on to a part of the body, which I think will need all my attention,” smiled Elendil.
To tease his lover a little more, he snaked his hand up Gil-galad's thighs before grazing his crotch, already eager for more contact. A new lament came from the elf king's lips. Pleased with the effect, Elendil laughed before sitting down on his side and waiting for his beloved high king to turn and offer him his hair. For him too, the heat was gradually rising, and he couldn't deny the fire taking hold of him and his lower body, he had to act fast before he lost his nerve and could no longer answer for any of his actions.
Elendil took a comb from the tray he'd brought with him, along with some olive oil and rosemary, to help maintain his beloved king's long hair. The latter threw his head back to wet the whole of his hair and allow his lover a better application for the treatment. He sighed once more in contentment. Elendil, smiling, took hold of his cheeks before kissing him chastely on the mouth and concentrating on his long hair, which he loved to style for hours on end. This at least allowed him to concentrate on something other than the birth of his own pleasure, even if this harmless gesture didn't help him at all. His breathing became jerkier, but he didn't relent it was up to him to take care of Gil-galad and return all the affection he'd given him since his arrival in Middle-earth. He applied the oil with the comb, spreading it over the entire length of his scalp and massaging it, as he knew his High King was weak for this type of massage.
“Elendil...your hands...”
“Hush, I know, let yourself go, this time it's up to me to take care of your needs, High King of the Noldor.”
Gil-galad closed his eyes again to enjoy Elendil's slightest caress, sometimes drifting down his neck, sometimes to the small of his back where the tips of his hair touched the beginning of his buttocks. The temperature rose again and again, and his body burned with ardent passion, scorched by the warm caresses of the man standing behind him, caring for his hair. Before he could react, Elendil spilled a bucket of ice-cold water over his head to rinse off the product.
"To cool your ardor, High King Gil-Galad,” Elendil whispered in his ear.
He kissed his neck before moving down to his shoulder and soon his arm. Gil-Galad caught him before turning again to face Elendil and kissing him fiercely, greedily, a touch. Their torsos pressed against each other, as did their two sexes already gorged with blood and desire for each other. Caught off guard, Elendil hiccupped in surprise.
“I sense I'm not the only one burning from the inside out,” Gil-galad observed.
The elf was becoming impatient, needing contact of any kind to soothe the sweet pain that kept tormenting him again and again. He rubbed himself against Elendil, seeking bliss, an end to the pain tugging at him.
“You're cheating, Your Highness,” Elendil murmured between grunts.
As revenge, Elendil cut short his entire program to attend to his lover's primary needs, to attend to a much more urgent one. He swam back to the tray, this time to pick up a small earthenware bottle and return as close as possible to Gil-galad. In that moment, he carried the elf out of the water to admire him in all her splendor and his warm body begging to be caressed. Irresistible.
He gave in to the irresistible urge to kiss that burning skin, begging for caresses again and again. Elendil began by licking the inside of his thighs before gradually moving on to the object of his lust. His thoughts no longer made sense, only one goal remained, and that was to savor this elf, his elf offered all to himself on this white marble. Gil-galad breathed and moaned. Perfect sounds in the ears of the man from the west that excited him even more, and he wanted more. What a beautiful idea to adore such a powerful Noldor body at his mercy with his fingers and tongues. He lifted himself out of the water to climb onto the elf's body, who grabbed him at the same time and pushed him onto his back, proud of himself.
“And what have you to say, King of Arnor?” laughed Gil-galad.
“Kiss me, my king,” whispered Elendil in Gil-galad's ear.
Gil-galad carried out his beloved's wish, kissing him hungrily while hugging him tightly, rubbing him against him and taking both sexes in his hand, making them moan in concert, slow caresses coupled with lustful rubbing. Both could no longer think or reflect, so close to their own bliss. In his turn, the elf king licked and bit his lover's neck, which he knew to be one of his most sensitive.
The temperature rose again and again as their pleas came close to failure, eventually exploding in a myriad of chaotic, disordered movements. Sweating, Elendil stood up to kiss Gil-galad tenderly on the mouth before embracing him:
“ Welcome home, High King Gil-galad”.