"Macalaurë! Macalaurë!"
Maglor held out his arms as he saw Elrond and Elros running towards him, Maedhros walking behind at a slower pace. Maglor scooped up Elrond just before Elros barreled into him, throwing his arms around Maglor's waist. With Elrond hanging off one shoulder, Maglor tousled Elros's hair. It was so good to see the boys again, after so many days in the cell. Even Maedhros, who rarely smiled anymore, couldn't help smiling and laughing a little at the boys' sheer exuberance.
"We missed you," Elros said.
Elrond nodded solemnly. "They told us you were in a cell."
Maglor swallowed hard. The boys knew what happened, the truth of how they'd been acquired. It had taken awhile for them to come to terms that their guardians were also killers - and that taking care of them was how Maglor and Maedhros were trying to atone. Maglor knew the boys would never completely forgive him, and that was their right; were he in their position, he'd be plotting murder every night, in retaliation. But over these last few years they had nonetheless bonded as family. Maglor loved them like they were his own, and Elrond and Elros accepted that love.
What he didn't need was for the staff, or his uncle himself, to keep bringing up to the boys what had been done, which felt like jumping many steps back after a series of small steps forward. His eyes met Finarfin's now as he approached, and he spoke directly into his uncle's mind. Did you have to tell them I was in a cell?
Would you rather I have lied to them so they could worry that you were ill, or lost... or ignoring them? Finarfin pursed his lips.
Maglor grumbled under his breath and then he returned his attention to the boys. Elrond climbed onto his shoulders, and when Maedhros was at his side, Elros climbed onto Maedhros's shoulders. "Now I'm taller," Elros said, reaching out to grab Elrond's nose.
Finarfin led the way to the feast hall, with Elrond riding Maglor's shoulders and Elros riding Maedhros's shoulders. Maglor was glad that the banquet was fairly small, with only two dozen attendees, most of whom he didn't recognize, but got the sense none were happy to see him, as they all looked Teleri.
Maglor was seated at Finarfin's left hand, and Maedhros at Finarfin's right, with Elrond next to Maglor and Elros next to Maedhros. The meal had seven courses and three desserts - two of which were cake, making Maglor smile; the more things changed, the more they stayed the same, and Finarfin always had a bit of a sweet tooth. Finarfin didn't even complain when Elrond and Elros wanted to have cake before the main meal.
"They'll spoil their appetites," Maglor said.
Finarfin smiled. "Perhaps not. Depends on how hungry they are." He shrugged and helped himself to a piece of bread, breaking it and passing to Maglor. "A little snack before a meal never hurt anyone."
Maglor squirmed in his seat and immediately wished he had not done that, his bottom stinging all over again. He got the distinct sense that Finarfin was no longer talking about the boys and their diets.
As Maglor ate, he tried not to watch Finarfin eating - tried not to think about what Finarfin would look like with a cock in his mouth, or if Finarfin had ever sucked a cock, and whose. Maglor tried desperately not to think about what they had done late in the afternoon, and that Finarfin had been hard when he left the room; Maglor wondered if he'd privately relieved himself, or perhaps if he had a discrete bedwarmer, as Nerdanel had taken when the love between his parents grew cold. The thought of Finarfin with a bedwarmer made Maglor irrationally angry, and he tore into his fish steak like it had personally offended him.
It was very strange attending a feast at Alqualondë that Eärwen was not present for. Finarfin had of course told him that he and Eärwen were no longer married - the Valar had permitted the release of their vows for Eärwen to serve them at the temple. Maglor didn't miss his aunt necessarily, but it was a very different atmosphere.
As the meal wore on, Finarfin informed Maglor that he had arranged for Elrond and Elros to have a tutor - Wilinquen, the same tutor that Finarfin's own children had. "I have no doubt that you've been seeing to their education," Finarfin said, "but Wilinquen is one of the most learned of the Blessed Realm save Rúmil and your father himself."
Maglor approved of that; Elrond and Elros both had keen, curious minds and could go far with them given the right guidance. Maglor had done what he could but they'd had a difficult life fending for themselves in Beleriand, and Maglor was often too exhausted for more than an hour or two of lessons per day, not enough.
"Thank you," Maglor said sincerely.
"Yes, thank you." Maedhros nodded and raised his goblet.
Finarfin raised his in return. Then his eyes met Maglor's, and held, as he sipped, and Maglor felt like a small bird who had been spotted by a larger bird of prey. Finarfin's free hand found Maglor's knee under the table, rubbing in slow, lazy circles that made Maglor's entire body thrill to that gentle touch, a frisson down Maglor's spine, and Finarfin spoke into Maglor's mind. You will have some free time each day. That will help you get back to your music. ...And other activities.
Maglor swallowed hard. His cock started to stiffen again, despite the release he'd had earlier. His hole twitched, and just that little movement made his bottom sting. Was Finarfin alluding to what he thought?
He hoped so.
A few sips of wine later, Finarfin spoke into Maglor's mind again. Meet me in the courtyard after you've put the boys to bed. We have more to discuss.
Towards the end of the feast, one of the court musicians, a young woman named Morilindissë, was brought in to play harp and sing. She was good, in the way that novices with talent were good, but she needed work, and time, and the little imperfections in her voice and technique made him miss Daeron.
A lot of things made Maglor miss Daeron. He tried not to think about it. He didn't always succeed.
The reminder of Daeron put Maglor in a pensive mood when it was time to get the boys settled down for the night, but they were sensitive to his moods and he didn't want to trouble them on what was supposed to be a happy time of reunion and the beginning of building a brighter future for all of them. Elrond and Elros were sharing a room, for now, and though they were getting a bit old for this, they nonetheless enjoyed having Maglor tell them a bedtime story and sing to them. Tonight Maglor made up a story about hungry frost trolls in the far northern wasteland who kidnapped elves to put into a stew and warriors could not defeat them, but finally a single harpist sang a song that sent balls of fire at the frost trolls, melting them.
There had been no frost trolls on the Helcaraxë - that would have been kinder in giving them a common enemy to fight, instead of each other. Maglor's song had not saved his father, though he had tried.
But the story entertained the boys just the same, and it exorcised some of Maglor's angst, weighing less heavily when he finally tucked them in, and made his way to the courtyard, bottom twinging with each step.
The stars were rising in the twilight. For a little while Maglor and Finarfin just watched them in silence. Then Finarfin broke the silence with, "I still miss the Trees."
"So do I." Maglor nodded.
"But this is beautiful." Finarfin took a deep breath and folded his arms, rocking back on his heels. "Sometimes we get so caught up in missing what we've lost, that we don't appreciate the wonderful things right in front of us."
Maglor looked down. He wondered if Finarfin had picked up on his thoughts about Daeron. If so... what he had felt for Daeron still paled in comparison for what he felt for Finarfin.
"I've been coming out here each night to watch the stars and the moon rise... thinking about you looking at the same sky," Finarfin went on. "The first time I saw the sunrise, I thought it was a damn shame Fëanor wasn't here to see it. He would have loved the fire in the sky." Finarfin put a hand on Maglor's arm and Maglor once again felt his cock pulse, his body tingling at that little touch. "I also wished you were here to watch the sunrise with me."
For a brief instant, Finarfin took Maglor's hand. Though it was an innocent touch that would not necessarily be misinterpreted by onlookers, Maglor still glanced around anyway, to make sure they were not seen.
"Take a walk with me," Finarfin said, leading Maglor out to the gardens.
As sore as he was, Maglor really wasn't feeling up to a walk, but he went along anyway, sensing this was important - feeling overcome with emotion that he had been on his uncle's mind, that his uncle had missed him, wished he was there. At the white roses, there was what Maglor had always assumed was a wishing well; he and his brothers used to throw coins and other small, shiny, wouldn't-be-missed objects down the well, making wishes. Now Maglor watched with shock as Finarfin bent down and picked up the stone ring, revealing a false bottom - there was a hole in the ground with a ladder. Finarfin carefully began to descend, and before he got too far he gestured for Maglor to join him. Maglor did, and watched as Finarfin pulled a string that slid the fake well back into place; Fëanorian lamps hung on the walls of the tunnel down, lighting the way.
They were now in a passageway beneath the palace. Maglor had never known about this, despite the tendency of himself and his brothers to explore and get into trouble exploring when they were younger. It made a certain type of sense - while the Blessed Realm was protected by the Valar and the threats in the wilds of Middle-Earth were not a threat here, Morgoth and Ungoliant had nonetheless managed to cause harm to the realm and Eru knew what else the foul Dark Lord had conjured during his reign of terror so one never knew if there would be a need to hide during a siege.
They walked through the tunnels, lit by Fëanorion lamps every few meters, until they came to a subtle etching in the wall, the seal of the House of Finarfin. Finarfin put his hand on it and a portion of the wall began to move, a door revolving forward. Finarfin grabbed Maglor's arm and they came through the revolving door into a stairway, which led up to a closet filled with scrolls, and royal regalia. Finarfin opened the door of the closet and they stepped out into the study.
Maglor was utterly confused. "Why couldn't we have just walked together to the study?"
"Because people would see us come in and they would never see us go out," Finarfin said, and led Maglor across the library to another closet. This closet had another door inside it, which needed a key to open. Finarfin wore a set of keys on a chain, and when he unlocked it and they stepped through, it was to Finarfin's own bedchamber, done in blues and greys and earth tones, like the sea. In one corner of the room was an inground bath, steam rising from it, and in another corner of the room was a canopy four-poster bed with a curious set of slats at the head and the foot, and another set of slats at the canopy roof. The rest of the room had handsome carved wooden furniture, a plush-looking divan, and various sculptures and glass objects - Maglor recognized his father's art and had to stop himself from going over to touch a blown glass swan that looked like it was made of fire. That Finarfin still owned things Fëanor had made with his own hands hurt in a good way and Maglor took a few deep breaths to calm himself.
Then Maglor had a realization, as Finarfin's words finally registered. People would see us come in and they would never see us go out. That implied Maglor was going to be spending the night in his bedchamber.
It was no longer implied as Finarfin took the chain off his neck, hanging it around the neck of the fire-swan, and then began to undress. Maglor's breath caught as his fantasy came to life - the sculpted biceps and pecs and abs, the strong back, the shapely firm bubble of Finarfin's ass. The silver-gold bush, matching the hair that cascaded down Finarfin's back, the hair that Galadriel had inherited. Maglor had more than once wondered if it was really Galadriel's hair Fëanor had wanted to use for the Silmarils, or Finarfin's. Finarfin's silver-gold mane was the only adornment he needed, a living jewel.
Finarfin took a few steps towards the bath and then he paused and looked over his shoulder. "Well?"
With shaking hands Maglor fumbled with his own clothing, not able to stop looking at Finarfin's body, the feline grace, the ripple of his muscles as he stepped into the bath. Maglor's cock rose as he came closer, and Finarfin watched him with a hungry look in his green eyes that made Maglor's cock stiffen even more.
The bath was a little too hot, and Maglor needed time to adjust, going down the steps one by one. When the water was less scalding, he sat in the whirlpool across from his uncle - naked as he was - and suddenly Finarfin reached for him and pulled him into a deep, fierce kiss.
Maglor would always cherish the first kiss they'd shared, the one that pushed him over the edge when Finarfin stroked his cock, but this one was even more sensual, full of heat and longing, their tongues licking, teasing, rubbing together in the way that Maglor wanted their bodies to rub together, the push and pull, following and leading back and forth, a promise of the rhythm of sex. Maglor clutched at Finarfin, kissing him back with years of pent-up need, and as he came closer he moaned into the kiss, feeling Finarfin's hard cock bump up against his.
When they pulled apart, both breathing harder, Maglor's heart racing, Finarfin's pupils were blown wide, like he was just as much in shock of what was happening between them. Maglor spoke it aloud. "I can't believe this is real," Maglor whispered. He looked down through the water at their hard cocks, pressed up against each other. "You want me?"
"I have wanted you since you came of age, since you became a man, yes," Finarfin said.
"I've wanted you as long as I could want," Maglor confessed, his heart soaring to know it was mutual - and aching for the years they had denied themselves. How different things could have been if...
"When we left Valinor... I was going to ask you to be my consort, once we reached Middle-Earth," Finarfin said, stroking Maglor's face. "No more Laws to hold us back."
"But..." Maglor's jaw dropped, the shock intensifying. He pinched himself to make sure this wasn't a dream. "What about Eärwen? You -"
Finarfin laughed bitterly and leaned back, shaking his head. "Oh, my sweet boy. You had no idea, did you? My marriage to Eärwen was a ruse. She prefers women. She has been lovers with Anairë all her adult life. I prefer men."
"You had children -"
"Your father invented a device where Anairë could put my seed inside Eärwen. I never touched her."
Now Maglor leaned back. He felt like everything he knew of the world was splintering apart. He had long suspected Anairë and Eärwen were more than just friends, but to hear that confirmed by Finarfin - and to find out Finarfin and Eärwen had never consummated their marriage, Finarfin preferred men just as he did... Maglor felt like something was exploding inside his head.
"I would offer you more wine, but I want you sober enough to consent," Finarfin said, running a finger down Maglor's cheek, down his throat to his chest. Then Finarfin's hand strayed and a thumb rubbed one of Maglor's nipples, coaxing it to life; Maglor gasped as it pebbled, aching. His cock throbbed and his hole twitched again, his ass stinging from where he'd been flogged, but as sore and tired as he was, he wanted.
First, though, he needed to make some sense of things, before he lost what was left of his mind. "So wait... Anairë and Eärwen live at the temple now. Their relationship is against the Laws, surely the Valar don't approve, or have they renounced their sin -"
"They are hiding in plain sight, in the place where no one would suspect what was going on," Finarfin said, nodding. "Yes, Anairë feels some shame and guilt for all that has happened with our bloodline, so there is sincerity of devotion as well. But mostly, she is devoted to Eärwen's cunt, and I for one am happy to not have to pretend anymore."
"But you're not open about -"
"No. I am mad, not stupid."
A moment of silence passed, with Maglor reflecting on the information revealed. It was so much. Finarfin had been like him all along and had been very, very good at hiding it.
Finarfin had wanted him all along and he'd never known. "You would have asked me to be with you once we had made it across the ice?" Maglor licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry.
Finarfin nodded solemnly.
Maglor chuckled. "I'm not sure my father would have approved of that."
"Then there was much about your father you did not know," Finarfin said softly, reaching for Maglor again. "Come here, my songbird. I have been wanting this for so very long."
Their mouths met again, and again. Maglor played with Finarfin's hair, enjoying the silky texture, the way it caught the firelight, the candlelight, what seemed like a thousand subtle shades of silver and gold, glowing with a light of its own. He looked into those green eyes, so earthy and yet so warm at the same time. He savored the feel of Finarfin's luscious lips, the playful tongue. The way Finarfin's strong arms around him made him feel safe.
He wondered about Finarfin's statement of his father - what of Feanor he did not know, but Finarfin did - but now was not the time to speak of the dead. Now was the time to taste life. He had been grieving, despairing, dying inside more and more of loss and regret and sacrifice, but each kiss seemed to bring him back to life, stirring the fire of his blood.
They rose from the bath together, and kissed all the way to the bed, cock rubbing cock, hands sliding over each other's naked bodies, touching every place they could reach. Maglor needed to feel him, the weight and the shape of him, to know this was real, that this was his to have and hold.
When they got on the bed together, Finarfin reached into the top drawer of a bureau beside the bed, and pulled out a bottle of oil, and a jar that smelled of mint when opened.
"Salve," Finarfin explained. "Roll over and show me your arse."
Maglor did as he was told, and Finarfin daubed the salve onto each cheek, then began to rub slowly, tenderly. The salve stung and burned at first, then it was cooling, soothing, and Maglor sighed deeply, involuntarily flexing his fingers and toes as the relief flooded him.
"I did quite a job on your arse," Finarfin said, continuing to rub the salve in circles, his fingers pulsing with healing energy.
"You did."
"I would apologize to you..." Their eyes met. Finarfin cocked his head to one side. "But you enjoyed it."
Maglor said nothing. His cheeks burned with shame - it hadn't just been that he'd gotten aroused by his uncle, and in public, but he'd gotten aroused by having his ass flogged.
"So did I," Finarfin said softly.
Maglor blinked.
"Before we go any further," Finarfin said, "you should know that I have certain appetites. I will not force anything on you, but something tells me that you would be interested in exploring them. I like my sex rough. I like to be the one in control. I like to give pain as well as pleasure. I like to give pain as pleasure."
Maglor's heart raced again. He felt like he was about to fly off the bed. Not only was Finarfin not judging him for his not-normal response to enjoying the beating, but... they could do it again, perhaps.
And once again, it was too surreal. His soft-spoken, kind, gentle uncle was a beast.
It made him love Finarfin all the more, delighted by the mystery of him.
"Not the same thing every day, I don't think your poor arse could handle being flogged like that more than once or twice a fortnight." Finarfin chuckled and gently patted Maglor's ass, then resumed rubbing. "But if you want more -"
"I do."
"Good." Finarfin moved in to claim another kiss, and Maglor kissed him back, hungrily. Maglor's body was on fire now, cock stiff to the point of agony, wanting this gorgeous man to ravage him.
Finarfin sensed the eagerness. He stopped rubbing the salve and now he took the bottle of oil, pouring it into Maglor's crack. Maglor gasped as he felt the oil dripping into his hole. Then he cried out as Finarfin pushed a slick finger inside him, and again when Finarfin found that spot right away.
"Tell me," Finarfin said, "honestly - when is the last time someone had you?"
"Not since Ñolofinwë was alive."
"But it was a man."
"It was a man."
"It was Daeron," Finarfin said, a statement, not a question.
"You knew I was thinking about him at the feast."
"I also heard rumors."
Maglor took a deep breath. He and Daeron had been trying to be careful, but...
"We are going to have to be careful," Finarfin said. "Much more careful than you and Daeron were. Hence the doors. Hence showing you the tunnels under the palace." Finarfin smirked. "The glass swan your father made is a ward. Like the swan is mute, it mutes the walls, so the servants cannot hear what goes on inside this room."
"What if your keys get lost, or stolen?"
"It was another gift from your father. He did an enchantment on the keys to bind them to me. They will not work for another person... unless I give them the power. I will give you a spare key to my room, and bind it to you."
A spare key implied that this was not Finarfin's first liaison - and Maglor noticed Finarfin was very sure of his appetites, which suggested experience. Now Maglor was curious. "It has been a long time for you, as well?"
"Even longer than you. Not since I returned to Valinor from the exile."
"Eru." That was so long, too long, to go without touch. Maglor could have wept.
"I am careful, but I am also... not inclined to settle for an inferior substitute for what I want." Finarfin touched Maglor's face. Then he resumed fingering Maglor's ass, slowly, one finger pushing in and out, massaging that sweet spot inside him.
Maglor groaned, and thrust his hips out, panting.
One finger became two, working a little faster, a little faster, until Maglor was rocking his hips, fucking himself on Finarfin's fingers. "Please," Maglor begged, his voice rising in desperation. "Now. Take me now. We both need this. I need -"
Finarfin pulled his fingers out of Maglor's ass and shoved them in Maglor's mouth. Maglor tasted the almonds in the oil and the musky earthiness of himself, and moaned around Finarfin's fingers. Finarfin rose up on his knees - his cock was completely slick, dripping with the juices of his own arousal, but Finarfin poured oil over his cock and Maglor's cock twinged just watching Finarfin stroke himself, working in the oil, making his cock glisten invitingly.
"Fuck me," Maglor panted.
On his knees still, Finarfin got behind Maglor. Maglor, face down, ass up, pushed his ass out at Finarfin, panting for it, feeling like he was going to die if Finarfin didn't take him. Maglor's breath hitched as he felt just the tip of Finarfin's cock at his opening.
Finarfin began to push, slowly. Finarfin was long and he was also thick, thicker than Daeron had been, and it was so long since Maglor last had a cock inside him that he felt like he was being split. "Am I hurting you? Do you need me to stop?" Finarfin asked.
It pinched, it burned, but Maglor was going to take it all. "Keep going."
At last Finarfin was inside all the way, and rested for a moment, letting Maglor adjust to being stretched, and so full, almost bursting. Then Finarfin began to thrust, a few slow thrusts, teasing that spot inside him, as his hand caressed Maglor's sensitive spine, his sore-but-soothed ass, his touch sweet and gentle.
All gentleness was shoved aside after that. Finarfin pounded him, their hips slapping together. The pain gave way to pleasure, the rhythm on that spot more and more delicious. So intense, the entire world melting away in consuming fire, so it was just them, their heat, their fuck. Maglor's fists grabbed the sheets, white-knuckled, and he whimpered into the pillows as Finarfin grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking it hard.
"That's right," Finarfin growled. "You're mine now. This belongs to me."
"Yes, yes, take it," Maglor breathed, surrendering deeper and deeper, needing to be possessed, claimed. After wandering so long, lost and alone, he was home. He was being taken care of. He belonged somewhere again.
He belonged to the man he'd always loved, always wanted, who was fucking him better than Daeron ever had, beautiful in his savagery.
Finarfin fucked harder, fast and furious, continuing to pull Maglor's hair. He leaned down, his chest against Maglor's back, and he kissed and licked Maglor's neck and shoulder, nibbled, sucked, bit, the sharpness of his teeth sending a jolt through Maglor's body, almost undoing him. Maglor's balls tightened and his cock ached, throbbing, as each punishing thrust took him closer. He needed to come so badly but more than that, he needed to take all that Finarfin had to give, just as alone as he had been. Just as hungry.
Finarfin turned Maglor's head and their mouths met, kissing, tongues licking together between kisses. Then Finarfin kissed and nibbled Maglor's neck some more before he rose back up, let go of Maglor's hair, and grabbed one arm, then the other, pinning Maglor's wrists as he slammed away so hard the smack of their hips competed with Maglor's broken cries.
"Ara," Maglor called out. "Ara. Hántar. Hántya..."
Finarfin grunted - Maglor felt him lose it, just a little - and then Finarfin let go of Maglor's wrists and with one hand in his hair, the other arm around him, Finarfin pulled him upright, keeping an arm locked around him as they kissed again. The other arm slid down and Finarfin reached for Maglor's cock.
The tight grip of Finarfin's fist, stroking in time with his cock rubbing that spot just right, hitting that perfect note of pleasure over and over, brought Maglor to the point of no return. "Hántya," Maglor cried. "Hántya, I'm going to -"
"Yes, Káno. Come for me. Show me who you belong to."
With a hoarse shout, Maglor spilled over Finarfin's hand, spurted over the sheets, the pleasure pulsing through him, rolling over him in waves, relief, bliss. Finarfin let out a shuddery sigh and breathed, "Káno..." as he spent, and Maglor moaned at the feel of Finarfin erupting inside him, what he'd always wanted.
They kissed again. Both of Finarfin's arms were around him now, holding him tight, rocking him. Then Finarfin's seed-coated fingers were in Maglor's mouth as Finarfin nuzzled Maglor's neck. "Welcome home," Finarfin whispered.
Maglor felt like he was drunk, even though he hadn't had much wine. For this moment, everything was beautiful. Shining and beautiful, the room glowing softly as they collapsed onto the bed together, holding each other.
Maglor and Daeron used to be able to go two or three times in a night, and Maglor wanted to enjoy that with Finarfin, eventually, but this climax had been so powerful that Maglor felt like he was floating away, melting into the light. Finarfin pet Maglor's hair as Maglor rested in his arms, listening to the strong thrum of Finarfin's heartbeat, feeling him in the Song, like a tree of light, a roost for broken birds who needed to be made whole.
Maglor felt so very broken, but he was safe now. Safe and loved. Maglor reached out for Finarfin's hand and their fingers linked before Maglor drifted into sleep.
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