Shades Of Silver-Gold: Chapter 22

It had come time for Tarnin Austa, the summer solstice. As the High King, Finarfin had left Alqualondë and come to Tirion with his family for the festival. Since midnight, a bonfire had been burning and Finarfin, Maedhros, Maglor and the twins had held lanterns and kept vigil all night, in silence. At the rising of the dawn, lanterns and candles were sent down the river, with songs. Drums thundered and Finarfin took turns picking up Elrond and Elros and swinging them around; Maglor and Maedhros danced with each other. Maglor sang with all of his might - never had this holiday meant more to him; light had truly conquered darkness in his life.

Finarfin was his light. In the peach-pink-lavender-gold sunrise, the way Finarfin's hair shifted silver and gold reminded Maglor even more of the lost Treelight... like a living Silmaril. It was as if his hair was the outward manifestation of his inner beauty, the gentleness and strength, his grace. The way he made Maglor feel safe again, feel at peace again, basking in the warm glow of their love. Maglor was captivated by Finarfin's hair shining, and he sang not merely to celebrate the Gates of Summer opening to the sun, but his heart and soul opening, flooded with Finarfin's light.

Once again Maglor wondered if Finarfin's hair had inspired the Silmarils, and not Galadriel.

Did your father ever tell you what the Silmarils are?

...they each had a piece of his soul.

He did not lie, but he did not tell you the entire truth, either, it seems.


A chill went through Maglor despite the warmth of the summer morning. There was so much that didn't make sense. That Finarfin and Fëanor had been friends - close enough for Fëanor to know of Finarfin's affair with another man - and yet they had to pretend to be enemies, even though Fëanor got exiled for a public quarrel with Fingolfin. Fëanor's obsession with the Silmarils. The love growing colder and colder between Fëanor and Nerdanel -

As if his thoughts had summoned her, suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice interrupted his song, brought his dance to a grinding halt. "Such lovely singing of the light, from the filth-dark heart of a kinslayer. Tell me, do you think of all the summers that were stolen from your dead brothers, that you stole, leading them to their doom?"

Maglor froze, unable to answer his mother. His heart hammered in his ears, louder than the drums. His mouth went dry. The problem was he thought of his dead family often, and it still hurt, wounds that would never quite heal no matter how long he'd been living at Alqualondë in peace and safety. Of course the joy he felt in a celebration like this was tempered with grief... and shame. His eyes stung with tears just thinking about his lost brothers, and his jaw quivered. Of course, that was what she wanted. For a moment he felt like a small ellon again, hiding from his mother so she wouldn't see him cry and scream Stop crying, or worse, laugh at him for it.

Maglor desperately wanted to find words, and put a stop to this nonsense once and for all. He didn't have to. Finarfin stopped dancing with the twins, eyes wide, but before he could come over, Maedhros took quick strides and towered over his mother, fire in his eyes.

"Those are fine words from you, having driven our father to madness. And you," Maedhros said, "will leave us alone. We never want to see you or hear from you again. You are not our mother anymore, you are nothing to us."

Nerdanel sniffed and turned on her heel, and before she could get far, Finarfin's guards seized her.

"Put her in the stocks," Finarfin said. He came around to glare right in Nerdanel's face before she was carried away. "Next time is the dungeon."

"There had better not be a next time," Maedhros said, his voice a quiet monotone rather than a yell. He put his arm around Maglor, offering comfort... protection, even as Nerdanel was being escorted away by the guards and Maglor felt the relief rolling over him. Nerdanel looked over her shoulder and Maglor turned his head, a silent rebuke.

For a few moments Maglor and Maedhros stood there, while Finarfin talked to other of his guards and the twins held back, looking a little afraid. Maglor felt shock more than anything else, scarcely able to believe his own mother would stoop so low to ruin the festival for him this way...

...that she hated him that much. His own mother. His own blood. He knew nothing he did was ever good enough for her but this was a whole new level of disapproval and disgust...

...and the fire still burned in Maedhros's eyes. Maedhros pulled Maglor against him, holding Maglor tight with his one arm, and Maglor looked up at the scowl on Maedhros's face, so very like Fëanor when he was angry.

And Maglor wanted.

He had been noticing his brother, desiring his own brother, these last several weeks, and now his hunger was even sharper, seeing that old fire return, terrible and beautiful. He wanted Maedhros to unleash, to let that rage out, pounding into him. He wanted to rut with his brother like an animal, biting, scratching, grinding against each other for dominance, taking turns ravaging each other, fucking hard...

Maglor shuddered, and pulled back a little as he felt his cock stirring, not wanting Maedhros to feel his arousal.

"Thank you," Maglor said, patting Maedhros's shoulders, taking another step back. "You've always looked out for me."

Maedhros tousled Maglor's hair. Just that friendly touch sent fresh fire through Maglor's veins.

His eyes met Finarfin's from a distance. Finarfin had observed the exchange... and he was keenly observant, he no doubt noticed Maglor's awkward, tense body language at his brother's touch. Maglor swallowed hard. Did his uncle know what a degenerate he truly was, lusting for his own brother this way?




If Finarfin had noticed, he did not speak of it.

They'd had a long enough day, with being up all night keeping vigil for the dawn, that after the evening meal they went right to bed, to sleep. It was still nice to be held, limbs entwined with the man he loved, safe and cozy after the ordeal this morning.

And when Maglor woke in the middle of the night, laying there in Finarfin's arms, legs braided with his, Maglor felt safe enough to cry. To let it out, flushing the wound. Not just Nerdanel's words, but the injury of his forbidden lust for his sole surviving brother, wanting what he could not, should not have.

Maglor wept silently, not wanting to wake Finarfin, but Finarfin woke anyway, and spent a few quiet moments just stroking Maglor's hair, rubbing his back. "It's all right, Kanafinwë. I know she hurt you." Finarfin pressed a kiss to Maglor's brow. "What she said to you wasn't right."

Maglor exhaled. "That doesn't mean it was incorrect." Maglor still held himself somewhat responsible for the fate of his younger brothers - he was older, he should have protected them, guided them -

Finarfin's arms tightened around him. "Káno, I know that years of damage won't be undone in a few months. I know that healing takes time. But it still hurts to hear you blame yourself." Their eyes met. "You're my good boy."

Maglor snuggled closer and leaned on him. "I wish I could believe that."

Finarfin squeezed him and began to rock him. "I will keep trying to get it through that thick, stubborn skull of yours." He put an arm around Maglor's neck and his other fist rubbed Maglor's head - just like Maedhros used to do to him growing up - and Maglor managed a smile through his tears. Then Finarfin put his arms back around him and resumed rocking him, making soothing noises.

"I'm sorry I'm like this," Maglor said. "Your opinion does matter to me, Ara, truly -"

"I know. As I said, I know it's easier said than done to heal the hurt you carry. I still blame myself for your father's death, replaying the events in my mind, thinking of what I could have done differently. If I had defied Fëanor and not gone back when he ordered me too, Fëanor might still be alive... and Ñolofinwë as well."

Maglor gave Finarfin a little kiss. "I don't blame you."

"Nor do I blame you for your brothers' deaths. But you see that I do know what it's like." Finarfin sighed and stroked Maglor's cheek. "I would offer to beat it out of you again if it helps. But I think perhaps right now what you need - and deserve - is tenderness."

Maglor nodded. As much as he enjoyed their games in the dungeon, something gentler sounded appealing.

They started off by taking a bath together. In the heat and bubbles Maglor calmed down enough to fall apart again, releasing the weight he'd carried all day. Finarfin held him, rocked him, kissed his tears, until they calmed down and Maglor just rested in Finarfin's arms, in warm water like a primordial womb. "My good boy," Finarfin whispered, continuing to rock and pet him. "My good, sweet boy. Such a good boy."

Being called a good boy went to Maglor's cock, and Finarfin smiled at the hard erection as they rose from the bath. But first, they took turns combing each other's hair - which was also sensual and arousing. Every few strokes of the comb they paused and kissed, nuzzled. When the comb was on the bedtable they fell on each other, kissing passionately, hands sliding over each other's naked bodies. Maglor savored every touch, every feel, now more than ever a balm for his loneliness, his grief. He needed an escape tonight, and Finarfin's loving caresses promised ecstasy.

"Here," Finarfin said, patting Maglor's shoulder, then tousling his damp, freshly combed hair. "Let me make it so you have no choice but to relax and let me take care of you."

Maglor smiled.

Finarfin got up and retrieved a length of rope. Instead of tying Maglor to the bed, he only bound Maglor's wrists together in front of him - allowing him some arm movement. Finarfin had Maglor hold his arms out and he rolled Maglor onto his stomach, and gave Maglor's ass a playful slap before he reached for the oil.

Finarfin brushed Maglor's hair aside, then Maglor sighed deeply, toes curling as he felt oil poured over his back, dripping down into the crack of his ass. Finarfin made a murmur of appreciation, then he climbed atop Maglor, straddling his ass, and got to work.

Finarfin's hands rolled and kneaded Maglor's shoulders and arms and back, and Maglor melted into the soothing, sensual touch... and the way Finarfin's hard cock rubbed in the crack of his ass. He shivered as Finarfin leaned in to kiss here, lick there. When Finarfin's fingers slid down Maglor's spine, up then back down, Maglor shivered and moaned, cock stiffening. He rubbed himself against the sheets, not able to help it. Finarfin smacked Maglor's ass, then he rubbed that too. "You're so beautiful," Finarfin purred. "All of you is beautiful. So irresistible."

Finarfin nibbled on Maglor's left ass cheek and Maglor cried out, hole twitching in response. Finarfin laughed, spanked him, and then with a little growl he bit the other ass cheek. Maglor's cock throbbed and he let out a desperate little sob, already needy and aching. "Please, Ara..."

Finarfin licked a long stripe down the crack of Maglor's ass, then his tongue traced around and around the hole in slow, lazy circles. Maglor moaned and thrust his ass out at Finarfin, and Finarfin growled again as his tongue circled around the hole, faster. Then, with a moan of his own, Finarfin's tongue began to lap inside him.

The slow fucking of Finarfin's tongue drove Maglor wild, whimpering, panting, going deeper and deeper into sensation until it was all that existed. Even with just his wrists bound and not the rest of him, he was at Finarfin's mercy, to be teased like this as long as Finarfin wanted to tease. And Finarfin kept going for a long, long time, tongue rubbing slowly, sweetly. Making love to Maglor with his tongue, pleasing the most intimate flesh of his body... getting him lost, exactly what Maglor needed.

Finarfin spanked Maglor's ass, one cheek then the other, then a firm crack across both, making Maglor yelp. Finarfin patted Maglor's ass and more gently rolled Maglor onto his back. He reached up to stroke Maglor's cheek and tousle his hair with a fond smile. "Good boy," Finarfin said. He poked the tip of Maglor's nose before he uncapped the vial of oil and poured it over Maglor's chest and stomach.

With Maglor's wrists still bound in front of him, Finarfin spread the oil over Maglor's body, hands gliding in slow circles across Maglor's arms, then up and down his chest, up and down over his stomach, over one thigh and calf, then the other. Then Finarfin poured more oil over Maglor's chest and his hands went back there, sliding in slow, delicious strokes that made Maglor shiver and moan. Finarfin's thumbs began to strum Maglor's pierced nipples, making them harder. At Maglor's groan, Finarfin pinched them both, tugged on the nipple rings together, and smiled at the way Maglor cried out, then he continued rubbing them, faster, exciting them. Maglor's cock pulsated.

"Such a beautiful body," Finarfin whispered, and leaned in to lick Maglor's left nipple as he flicked and pinched the right. Finarfin's eyes locked with his as Finarfin drew the peaked nub into his mouth, sucking hard.

Finarfin turned his head to the right nipple, as he pinched and rubbed the left. Maglor's breath hitched as Finarfin lapped, then sucked, tugging the hard bud as far as it would go. Maglor's cock leapt and Finarfin laughed, his fingers reaching to brush down the shaft, then back up.

Maglor groaned. "Hántya."

Finarfin's thumbs were on both nipples again as Finarfin kissed and licked up Maglor's neck, then down Maglor's throat. He kissed the hollow of his neck and shoulder on Maglor's right side, then his left, then his tongue slid back up before it flicked and rubbed against Maglor's. Their lips crushed together and their tongues slid and swirled, then Finarfin sucked Maglor's lower lip into his mouth and their tongues fluttered again before Finarfin licked down Maglor's neck.

Finarfin sucked hard at the right nipple, rubbing the left one faster, then he pinched the left nipple as he lapped at the right, tongue circling it before lashing at it again, harder. Maglor writhed, arched to him, wanting him desperately. He sobbed as Finarfin feasted on the left nipple as he played with the right.

"Hántya, please. Please..."

Finarfin smirked. He reached over the bedtable - Maglor thought he was getting the oil again - and when Finarfin's arms came back, Maglor heard the click of Finarfin's dagger and the tip of the blade was at his throat.

Holding the knife to Maglor's throat, Finarfin began kissing and licking his neck again. "If you weren't a good boy, I could kill you. I could execute you, and nobody would speak against the High King."

Maglor shuddered. Yes, his life was literally in Finarfin's hands, and he found that thrilling, the ultimate surrender.

"But you are a good boy." Finarfin still held the blade to Maglor's throat and kissed down to Maglor's heart, making Maglor smile, aching at the fierce tenderness of that simple gesture. Finarfin's free hand reached up to stroke Maglor's cheek, trace the smile at his lips, then it slid down Maglor's body to grasp his hard, dripping cock. Maglor moaned. "You're my good, beautiful boy."

Maglor sighed. "Hántya." All the love, all the trust he felt, echoed in that one word.

Finarfin kissed one nipple, then the other. He leaned up to kiss Maglor's mouth, and their tongues played again, lapping. "I'm going to enjoy your beautiful body for as long as I want and there's nothing you can do about it." Finarfin pressed the knife tip into Maglor's throat just enough to pinch, not enough to wound, and he dragged it down Maglor's throat, then back up, his tongue following the blade.

Maglor trembled, bit his lower lip and whimpered - as badly as he needed to come, the idea of Finarfin teasing him for hours drove him mad with lust. "Yes, hántya, yes..."

"You're such a delicious slut." Finarfin suckled Maglor's right nipple, and his free hand rubbed and pinched the left. Then he sucked Maglor's left nipple, hard, as his thumb flicked the right one, making Maglor's cock pulse, pre-spend dripping down the shaft.

Finarfin went back and forth between Maglor's nipples, lapping and sucking them until they were so long and thick and hard Maglor felt they would explode. Finarfin kissed, licked and nibbled Maglor's stomach, then his right thigh, then his left. At last Finarfin licked up and down Maglor's shaft, keeping the knife at Maglor's heart. When he took the cock into his mouth, sucking slowly, their eyes met and Finarfin dragged the knife across Maglor's right nipple, then his left. Maglor bucked and cried out, almost undone.

Before Maglor could come in his uncle's mouth, Finarfin let Maglor's cock slip from his mouth and resumed licking up and down the shaft, ever so slowly. He made a show of collecting pre-spend with his tongue, then came up to kiss Maglor with it, making a sloppy mess as their tongues lashed. Finarfin spat into Maglor's mouth to make it messier, and they kissed and rubbed their tongues more, Maglor's balls tightening, so close yet so far.

Finarfin's hard cock bumped against his and Finarfin began to work his hips, cock rubbing cock, as Finarfin held the knife to Maglor's throat and they kissed and tongued. Being teased like this was so delicious, and Maglor couldn't get enough, rolling his hips, savoring the slide of their cocks, cock slowly fucking cock. "Hántya," Maglor breathed. "More, hántya, more..."

Finarfin's tongue rubbed his again, then Finarfin kissed and licked around the path of the knife at Maglor's throat. "I can't get enough of you. You are so, so delicious."

Maglor whimpered and bucked his hips, going wild at those words. "More, hántya!"

"Yes, sweet boy. Going to love my good boy..."

Maglor choked out a sob, frenzied. "Yes, hántya, yes..."

Finarfin licked circles around Maglor's left nipple, grinding his cock faster. "My good boy. My good boy..." He sucked on the nipple and Maglor cried out. "Good boy," Finarfin whispered, and his tongue furiously lashed the hard nipple. "Good boy. Good boy..."

"Hántya, hántya, more, more, moremoremore..."

Finarfin gave the other nipple the same treatment, dragging the knife down Maglor's throat to his heart, and back up. Finarfin worked his hips faster, cock urgently rubbing Maglor's cock. Maglor rocked his hips, giving shuddery little gasps as their cocks teased, tension and pleasure building to fever pitch.

Finarfin kept the knife at Maglor's throat and kissed his neck as his free hand seized both their cocks, and stroked. The feel of Finarfin's oil-slick fist squeezing and rubbing their shafts together made Maglor mad for it, whimpering, bucking up into Finarfin's hand. "Yes, hántya, yes, more..."

"Such a good boy." Finarfin nibbled Maglor's neck. "Such a good fuckslut for me."

Maglor whined, almost coming from that. The next few minutes felt like an eternity of agonized ecstasy as Finarfin's hand kept stroking, getting them closer and closer, until they were both right there, shuddering against each other, panting into each other's mouths. With one flick of their tongues Maglor climaxed, and the feel of Finarfin's cream pouring over his cock made Maglor's orgasm all the more intense, looking down at the erotic sight of cock spilling over cock, their seed flowing, gushing to pearly foam.

Finarfin let go of their cocks and brought his hand to Maglor's mouth. Maglor licked it clean and sucked Finarfin's fingers, then their tongues were rubbing together again. Finarfin put the knife down, untied Maglor's wrists, and grabbed and pinned them, kissing him deeply. Maglor shot another arc of seed, splashing Finarfin's belly, and laughed with bliss as the pleasure pulsed and surged.

"That's how I take care of my good boy." Finarfin stroked Maglor's face, tenderly kissed his brow, and slid his lips down to the tip of Maglor's nose. They rubbed noses, and Maglor smiled up at him adoringly, wanting Finarfin to see the love on his face.

Finarfin held him again and just before Maglor could go back to sleep, Finarfin said, "How would you like to go on vacation with me?"

Maglor's eyes opened and his eyebrows shot up. Through the drowsy haze he thought of how they had to take precautions to not be seen together. An uncle and his grown nephew going away by themselves wouldn't necessarily automatically arouse suspicion, but...

As if Finarfin knew what Maglor was thinking, "It wouldn't be just us. I'd bring Nelyafinwë and the boys along. But I think a change of scenery would be good. A few days of camping, getting back to nature, might help you to further reclaim your mental space from her."

Maglor kissed Finarfin's cheek, touched by that thoughtful gesture. "I'd like that very much, hántar."

"Good." Finarfin gave him a squeeze.

Maglor closed his eyes again, and drifted off.

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