Herbal Aroma by Adoraincerta

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1

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Elrond spent half of the morning finishing poetry practice and tended to his precious indoor garden. Reciting and mesmerizing poems had always been a delight since he could fully grasp Quenya, and when Maedhros and Elros paired up and went out for an imperative hunt, it also lifted his pounding heart full of worries.

 

It was scheduled before that Maglor would have lunch with him, as military needs should be arranged mostly at this time. It was a healer he encountered along the way who stated that Maglor hadn’t appeared all morning, that intrigued him to check on Maglor beforehand. In wartime, they all had strict schedules to follow, and Maglor seemed to be the least possible one to disobey, as his memory didn’t recall a time Maglor lingered in bed.

 

His door was not locked but closed without a gap. A rare  circumstance deserved mentioning, and Elrond’s suspicion only grew when he tried to knock.

 

“Leave me alone!”

 

It was definitely Maglor’s muffled voice.

 

He hesitated but still inquired.

 

“Maglor, are you ok?”

 

No more voices came. He put an ear on the door and heard the sound of fabrics rubbing. Was Maglor ill?

 

“Should I call a healer for you?”

 

A strange thing, as Maglor always dealt his own wounds and only let Elrond or Elros occasionally touch them. Unless he was in a coma, no other healer could get near him.

 

“No.”

 

He sounded weaker now. Such a curt answer was never a good sign, so Elrond risked asking again.

 

“You really should let me in if you are ill, Maglor. Maedhros won’t forgive me if he returns and finds you in a fever with me doing nothing about it.”

 

With more smothered sounds of duvet and sheet and pillows messing up together, Elrond couldn’t stand listening or turning around. If Maglor was already so uncomfortable that he didn’t have the strength to get up from the bed, then he must intervene even with the risk of being reprimanded later.

 

He stated “I’ll come in” before pushing the door open and closed it as soon as he was in.

 

Maglor - Maglor was in bed, though from his perspective, Elrond barely saw his body. He was covered with another thousand shirts, tunics, night gowns, blankets, and even winter quilts. He stepped closer and clearer moans were heard and nearly scared him to jump. He never, nor did Elros ever hear Maglor cry.

 

A huge hill-shaped nest piled up on the wide bed, through a hole of which Maglor was spotted. He was still in his nightgown, wet and ruffled as it went through a dire fight. No blood though, Elrond found the fact not much reassurance.

 

“If you don’t want anyone else, I’ll take care…”

 

Once he was close enough, a sweetly delicious smell sneaked in and his body reacted faster than his brain could control. An underlying scent of pulverized herbs didn’t suppress but aggravate the situation, and with multiplied waves absorbed by his bland, Elrond grasped why Maglor didn’t open the door. Too delicate and dangerous a place to be together when an omega was in his heat cycle, especially when Maglor hadn’t gone through it for - 6 months or longer?

 

He froze and staggered back, shocked. Leaving Maglor alone wasn’t an option, as such an emergency must be solved at the scene but not procrastinate; meanwhile the only help he could offer would surely be refused.

 

Not that he wanted to take advantage of Maglor’s weakness, especially now. Sinful thoughts returned when his gaze moved back on the nest Maglor built and his constant moaning only grew more desperate. It must be the hormone rather than his fantasy - barely a convincing enough thought.

 

“I could - grab some drinks or ice.”

 

His nerve was on the brink of breaking, and surrounded by compelling smells that drove his impulse to strip Maglor’s clothes, Elrond couldn’t determine if he could resist for another minute.

 

“Useful herbs are all used up.”

 

It was uttered through his teeth, and Maglor shivered with greater pain alongside each word. “Neylo wasn’t supposed to go out during such times, but it came ahead of sched- ah!”

 

He twitched with shame. The twins had their lessons and adequate experiences a year ago, but they were still just kids according to Maglor.

 

Elrond frowned in hesitation. With no sign of Maedhros and Elros coming back early, he was the only option acceptable, and he was under no coercion. It hurted him as well, witnessing Maglor in heat, doing nothing as if Maglor could go through this alone. Actually, no one could.

 

He sighed in frustration and mourned for his drained sanity, stepped forward and stripped the outermost layer of Maglor’s nest.

 

“Please let me help.”

 

Maglor clenched the sheet and nodded weakly. He was grateful, knowing Elrond was only being polite and gentle, for if he waited another minute, Maglor would be overwhelmed by instinct and begging him for a faster end.

 

With consent, Elrond dug Maglor from the deep heap and cupped his burning cheeks, kissing the dry lips with caution, as if Maglor didn’t need something fiercer. The sweat sunk nightgown was tossed onto the floor, and Maglor was lying, spine dipping the sheet together with his shaking legs. He spread them open with closed eyes and bit lips, not courageous enough to face his shamelessness.

 

Elrond noticed every inch of Maglor’s emotion and only offered more comfort. He spared his right hand to thrust his index finger into the wet tunnel, providing an immediate assuagement, easing the wild thirst; meanwhile, his other hand was stroking through Maglor’s shoulders with soothing strength and warmth, assuring him that the guilt of having him the extra ordeal didn’t exist in the first place.

 

He always held the nature of becoming a mild lover, a perfect one anyone could request, but applying his fantasy to his fantasized person only slowed him; Maglor needed more delicate treatment and no harm should ever be caused. When his guardian and tutor, always so composed and elegant, was sobbing in despair because of purely physiological stimulation, he could no longer resist but revealed his cock and slowly but firmly thrusted in.

 

Maglor’s warble waded at once, turning to a lower mumble of unintelligible groans instead. The first wave of heat was the most intense, but the easiest to deal with. His mind now filled with nothing but intercourse, his fingers covering Maglor’s chest with flirtation, Elrond resumed his kissing, though with more enthusiasm and eagerness.

 

With his sanity recovered enough to repay Elrond’s touch but not sober enough to notice shame, Maglor twisted his calves and entwined them around the paredhel’s waist, his ankles whitening with bones protruding outward, his knees pressing to lure Elrond lowering his hip further.

 

They were both panting by now, the older and more experienced one out of lust and the younger but genuine one out of nervousness. It was all too soon when Elrond came and exited just in time. Maglor wouldn’t refuse even if he did knot inside, but he couldn’t bear to inflict it without consent, enough trouble already and the herbs were valuable. 

 

Though there was the moment the warm sperm filled him, the next moment Maglor felt empty as ever. With taste of the last satisfaction lingering, he abandoned the remaining embarrassment, knowing he would share more time in heat with Elrond, and sat up just enough to support himself and lock his hands behind Elrond’s neck. He ignored his aching muscles, slid legs until they folded on the sheet, and stuck his bruised lips on every inch of skin in front of him, before turning to a new position where his back faced a gentle glare.

 

Now thinner fingers locked on his throat, Maglor’s nape was chafed by strands of black hairs. Their hairs mixed together, haphazardly sweeping through his sensitive waist, he could pray for nothing but a faster end. The transparent liquid coming from his back hole should be more than enough lube, but when Elrond inserted a finger through his mouth, he meekly obeyed and licked it until sticky saliva covered it all.

 

The moment the finger disappeared he could no longer resist begging.

 

“Please… I want more.”

 

Elrond paused instead.

 

“Please be more specific , Maglor, or I don’t know what you want.”

 

He sobbed with quivering need, venturing forming the words boldly.

 

“Please fuck me now! Don’t torture me anymore.”

 

The finger, as he wished, supplied a meager source of pleasure, and was followed by the real thing. With it inside, sparkling electricity charged his nearly-used-up strength and goaded him to rise up and down. His inner thighs left with marks and dents, Maglor wailed intermittently and grabbed the pillow tightly, as if distributing some pressure. It didn’t work when his gentle lover wielded his weapon better, kneading his nipples with irregular pace. The unpredictability kept him screaming and wringing his torso, mind blowing and going white with tears flowing from his cheeks and knees pressing to squeeze drops of liquid out. His cock stood against the fabric and asked for a quicker come in vain.

 

The other person’s kisses continued to fall on his sweaty abdomen and chest, swept through the sensitive collarbone and ribs only when his heat began to show the sign of recess, to elongate his pleasure and consume his sobriety. During intervals with Elrond lingering around his periphery, stiff numbness came from his nails, alongside unbearable trembles.

 

Maglor heard a whisper draw nearer but distanced immediately. He proceeded those soft syllables after the temperature on his earlobes disappeared into thin air, his eyes losing focus and his bones loose.

 

“I’ll tend to yours.”

 

Elrond kept his promise.

 

When his own smell was diluted and the distance between them was no longer than an inch, Maglor got a clue of Elrond’s unique smell. It was a mixture of herbs and parchment, easy to ignore but infiltrated to every corner, embracing him from hair to toe without him noticing. When his knuckles pressed Maglor’s butt, it felt like a bunch of centella was placed in front of his nostrils.

 

Too much patience could be a curse, and Elrond took every second to guarantee no pleasure came within touch. Maglor raised his waist with all the strength left, and had the feeling that a dreamless sleep would ensue, if only he survived today. He had hoped Elrond would give in quickly with petty experience, or followed his guide, both to no avail. Elrond learned by book, but also by environment and every motion of his, and it was him that gave in and lost control first.

 

The touch on his arousal was reassuring but unendurable. With oil from somewhere he couldn’t figure out, the firm grasp shook his legs and lured him into imploring.

 

“I can’t bear it any more– please have pity on me–”

 

His voice was twisted before his sentence finished, and it was the only time Elrond revealed his anxiety.

 

“Shh.”

 

Elrond sealed his lips and resumed what they almost completed. Maglor could no longer ascertain if this heat hit him more wildly than others because too much inhibitor was consumed and it retorted or because shame would ever increase when his tunnel was filled with the warm cock from the hostage he once took and his mind was screaming for more. He yielded, acknowledging he might never have the upper hand and power drifted away. Hot liquid blocked his tunnel and all sweat had evaporated together when his view whitened and legs squeezed, sensing his own orgasm.

 

They pant for more time than he should, and Elrond dragged him to a warm bathtub. His mind dizzy, his arm still hanging around Elrond’s neck, Maglor could hope the next time he woke would be alone and without shame, an illusion.