Title : The Voyeurism of Galadriel (Part 2 of the 'Voyeurism' trilogy)
Author : Celeborn's Concubine
Email : Celeborn/Daeron/Beleg/Mablung with implied Galadriel/Luthien and Galadriel/Celeborn
Rating : M
WARNING: CONTAINS EXPLICIT M/M CONTENT. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT SORT OF THING THEN STOP READING NOW!
I had written this some time ago to be posted on another site which allows for higher ratings, so I might be stretching the M a wee bit...but I've read plenty of stuff that does likewise on so don't take your ire out on me.
Summary :Galadriel is searching for Celeborn. She finally finds him, but he isn't alone…Set in Menengroth.
Author's Notes : This was actually written before part 1, but would (at least I think so ) come 2nd chronologically. /This/ indicates what would in other situations be italics. These mostly indicate thought, but on the odd occasion are simply for emphasis. It's dead easy to tell which is which, I promise.
Feedback : Yes please!
Disclaimer : No matter how much I want to, I do not own any of these characters, or any other aspect of Tolkien's world. It is not my intention to violate copyright, only to put the pretty pictures in my head into words.
Beta'd by Nyctophobia and Oli (thank you!) Any remaining mistakes are exclusively my own.
The Voyeurism of Galadriel
She swept along cool, stone-lined corridors and marched across sun-dappled gardens, all the while twisting the many rings on her fingers 'round and 'round and 'round.
Where was he?
She hated to show such incessant obsessing over another elf- an elf lower in rank than she! - even with his good looks. But Galadriel could not deny her possessive nature, she wanted Celeborn, and every moment he wasn't at her side she fretted over him like a torn fingernail.
It didn't help that the same beauty which had drawn Galadriel's moth to Celeborn's flame affected many, both male and female, likewise. Every time she saw another elleth blush when he spoke to them, or an ellon's gaze linger on his fair form a white hot wave of rage, such as she had not felt for many, many years, threatened to consume her.
Her stride quickened as she felt that same anger building within her now. Rationally, she knew he was not at her beck and call- he was at Elu's, for a start- and had many tasks to perform each day, before he could come to her. But she could not help but feel that sometimes he came with reluctance.
Perhaps I AM too possessive, she thought. It may well be that I am driving him away…perhaps it would be best if I were to leave him be this afternoon, and let him come to me of his own accord…
But Galadriel, ever impatient, could not stand to wait that long, and so, in despair, went to Luthien to ask her aid in the locating of her kinsman.
She managed to find Luthien, at least, dozing in the afternoon sun on the bank of one of the many picturesque pools dotted here and there for the pleasure of Elu and his family. The sweet scent of irises and water lilies lingered subtly in the air, and the vibrancy of their colour against the still water almost soothed Galadriel's haste, but Luthien was already roused by her footsteps, and watching her approach inquisitively.
"Well met, cousin," she said as Galadriel arrived at her side. "You seem flustered. Come, tell me what is the trouble and I will see if I can help you."
Galadriel sat and instantly regretted it, she felt the need to pace and so keep herself calm.
"Cousin," she began. "I am searching for Celeborn. Have you seen him?"
Luthien, so anxious to help a moment before, seemed to suddenly be troubled.
"I am sure he is about somewhere. Perhaps Adar has sent him on some errand, or it may be that he has gone hunting. Do not trouble yourself so, he will reappear in due time."
It was not what Galadriel wanted to hear. She wished for a moment that Daeron were here- and that was odd, he was rarely gone from Luthien's side. Surely he would know where Celeborn, his dearest friend apart from maybe Luthien herself, would be. In fact, all four had passed many a pleasant hour lounged about this very pool, sheltering from the midday heat. If it were not for his apparent devotion to Luthien, Galadriel would envy Daeron greatly indeed, for he certainly occupied more of Celeborn's time than she did.
"Is he not with Daeron, then? It is strange to find both absent from your side," she stated, a sudden doubt arising in her mind.
Luthien smiled a bright, fake smile. "Cousin! Are you implying that I require a chaperone? I assure you the mischief of my childhood is long past. Indeed, and I take up no where near as many of Daeron's hours as you imply, for even as he cannot play all day without respite neither can I dance for such a time. Why, I only see Daeron as much as you see Celeborn, if not less."
Galadriel sighed, lying back on the warm grass, and allowing the other's words to soothe her. Well that was alright then, Celeborn's inconstant attention was nothing to fear.
I was being childish, I suppose, she thought. I ought not to demand he be at my side all day long, and must not fret when he is away, for it is perfectly normal.
"Come," murmured Luthien by her ear. "Let us find a way to pass the time without them, my beautiful cousin." Galadriel, rolling over to face her, smiled.
Hours passed, and in Luthien's company Galadriel soon forgot all about her silver-haired tormentor. But as she lay in reverie she found dreams of lust entering her head, and so was roused from her slumbers when the heavy, golden light of the afternoon cast a surreal air to her surrounds. She looked down at the still-sleeping Luthien, a coil of ink-black hair falling across her bruised lips, and found that thoughts of lust were indeed still at the forefront of her mind- she even fancied that she heard a long, low moan of need carried on the blossom scented breeze…
Wait…
There it was again…
Carefully she stood and crept with all her stealth towards the sounds of love-making which only just reached her ears. She felt her pulse quicken as they grew louder, and a deep thrill of anticipation and suspense- who would she find?- shivered down her spine. There was a bush of some sort, thick branches covered densely with large, shiny leaves, before her and she slid on her belly beneath it, like a child playing a game of hide and seek with their friends, and covertly spread the lower branches to make a gap to see through. She found herself looking out upon a small, little-used lawn, lined with more bushes and being colonised by clumps of purple flowers…and there were four ellon there also, naked or in stages of undressing, tangled together right in the middle.
With a thrill of delight- and a small, nagging worry that she really should leave before she was caught spying – Galadriel recognised the darkly handsome Beleg, with whom she'd spent many a pleasant hour in conversation, lying unashamedly naked on the grass, half-raised on his elbows and his auburn hair unbound and falling in soft, curling waves down his smooth back and muscular chest. Astride his thighs and stripping with an anticipatory grin was Mablung, his white-blond hair and snowy skin as beautiful as that of his darker companion. Never before had Galadriel seen the two of them together, but, as she watched Mablung continue his little strip-tease she and saw the pure delight in Beleg's eyes as more of his lover was revealed she decided that they were a very fine match indeed.
Mablung had nearly rid himself of all his clothes when a third elf- and with a start Galadriel realised that it was none other than Daeron – seized him from behind and kissed him passionately. Mablung gave a delighted moan- somewhat muffled by the other's mouth- and Galadriel realised that it was he she had heard moaning before. Beleg reached for both of them, protesting the theft of his elf, just as they broke apart and fell forward onto the grass on either side of him. Mablung, still in his loin cloth, snuggled purring against Beleg's side as the archer's large hands relieved him of his final garment, while Daeron, his hair falling in a brown, silky veil about Beleg's belly and thighs, and his cheeks flushed, began to lick at the rosy tip of Beleg's swollen member, which swelled even more under that clever tongue.
This time it was Beleg's turn to moan, and the deep, throbbing sound spoke straight to Galadriel's loins. She tried hard to quiet her own raspy breathing- she really, really should leave – as Mablung added his own mouth to the onslaught, swirling his tongue around one dark nipple, and then the other, with every sign of enjoyment.
The fourth ellon, forgotten even by Galadriel, protested his exclusion with mock despair. As one the other three ceased their play and fell over him, pushing him on his back and tugging his snug leggings (he was already shirtless) from his long and muscular thighs. It took Galadriel but a moment to recognize Celeborn's fair silver hair spread out upon the grass, and the warmth of his laughter as six eager hands stroked and caressed him caught at her heart and sent her reeling from lust-fogged excitement to white-hot anger.
He was hers! How dare they lay their hands on him! And how dare he enjoy it!
She very nearly leapt to her feet and stormed into the little clearing, but Celeborn's sweet, breathy sigh as Daeron set about creating a love-mark on his neck re-kindled the fire in her nether regions. For a moment all though left her as she gazed at his beloved face, flushed with lust (and most likely wine), the dark glitter of his sapphire eyes, the arch of his back as a calloused hand ran roughly up the length of his stirring cock, and the way the muscles in his taut belly and thighs tensed as that hand- Beleg's – closed and Mablung leaned over said thighs to suckle expertly on the rosy pink head of Celeborn's weeping member. The soft mewls coming from her young lordling's mouth had her panting and squirming against the ground – and suddenly she wanted very much to see him taken by one of the others.
It appeared that she was not the only one contemplating this course of action. Mablung, with one last swipe of the tongue, had put his hands under Celeborn's hips and was urging him to rise, his odd, pale eyes darkened with lust and his breath coming in excited hitches. The Sindarin Prince eagerly complied, turning to lie on his belly on the bed of emerald coloured grass. Four appreciative growls rent the air, and Galadriel was glad that she had not been heard! Hastily she stuffed a great wad of her skirt in her mouth to keep herself quiet, her fingers questing down to the soft flesh its lifting had exposed.
Mablung appeared to be inspecting the inviting vision before him, stroking the ivory-coloured mounds with long, elegant hands. Celeborn wriggled impatiently, playfully, and- to Galadriel's surprise and delight- Mablung, with a command to keep still, drew back one of his lovely hands and brought it swinging back to spank Celeborn's rear with a resounding "slap!"
Celeborn yelped, but the look he gave Mablung over his shoulder was one of smouldering desire, and he did not protest when the other elf continued to smack him, sometimes hard, sometimes so gently it was more of a caress. Beleg knelt behind his lover, moulded tightly to his fair form, murmuring softly and nuzzling his neck.
It was Daeron though, who excited Galadriel the most. Spreading his thighs to reveal a large, rosy-tipped erection he settled himself before Celeborn and, tangling a rough fist in the silver tresses, encouraged the other to suck him.
Celeborn, still being spanked, set to with a will. His great, glittering eyes remained open, locked gaze to gaze with Daeron as he suckled the tip of the proffered cock. Daeron sighed in pleasure, which only seemed to push his lover to greater efforts, sliding down to take the whole, impressive length in his mouth. Galadriel heard his slight grunt as he swallowed and then, throat rippling, began to move his head up and down. Daeron groaned deeply then, throwing back his head and clenching his free fist in the grass beside him.
Mablung ceased his ringing slaps, and, bending down, spread Celeborn's now bright red cheeks wide and- Galadriel couldn't believe it!- began to tongue, with every sign of enjoyment, the puckered opening exposed to him. A great shiver ran through Celeborn but he never ceased his expert blowjob. Mablung too shuddered, whimpering audibly as Beleg's clever fingers found his own tight entrance and pressed eagerly inside.
Galadriel, her own fingers working frantically, found she was holding her breath. When finally Mablung decided Celeborn was ready for him and took her silver-haired Prince in one smooth, powerful thrust- and oh! how Celeborn groaned around Daeron's hard flesh at the moment of penetration!- she had to bite down hard on the cloth in her mouth to stop from echoing Mablung's triumphant cry- which ended in an abrupt "Oomph!" as he was given similar treatment by Beleg.
But it was only a few moments before all four found their rhythm and began moving in tandem, Beleg thrusting into Mablung, Mablung into Celeborn and Celeborn's beautiful head bobbing up and down between Daeron's straining legs. There were gasps, groans and whimpers of delight, and the heady scent of the flowers crushed beneath their squirming bodies was truly intoxicating. Galadriel had never known such lust as was coursing through her veins. She hoped that they would never, ever finish, that she could keep on watching forever, but all too soon- at least, she thought so- Daeron fell back on the grass, his spine arching and muscles quaking with orgasm. He opened his mouth to cry out, but it seemed that no sound would come.
Beleg's low growl cut the air in its place, as he grasped Mablung's hips so hard that he left angry, red marks on the pale flesh, and he thrust himself deep inside as he came. Mablung threw his head back onto Beleg's shoulder and very nearly screamed his own orgasm as he too buried himself as deep as he could in the accepting rear before him.
Celeborn grunted, and then Mablung had leaned forward once more, still panting with his own completion, and slid his clever hand under Celeborn's belly, stroking the straining flesh swiftly and surely. The ivory back arched, the huge blue eyes- near black his pupils were so large- widened and the silver head flung back. Daeron's softening flesh slid from Celeborn's passion-bruised lips, along with a little drizzle of his pearly essence, as her beautiful, beautiful Prince gave a hoarse cry and climaxed explosively over Mablung's pumping hand.
All four were quiet, wordlessly separating and then curling, naked and splattered with the evidence of their activities, together in a comfortable tangle. Breath slowed and eyes grew vacant with sleep, a few soft murmurings and the odd movement of one snuggling closer to another the only relic of the passion displayed only moments before.
Galadriel, with all the stealth that she could muster, slipped away, doing her best to brush the leaves from her clothes and hair. It was not long before she found Luthien, who took in her state of disarray at a glance and flashed her a knowing smile. Together they made their way to a small, private bathing chamber, awash with fragrant steam to discuss Galadriel's discovery…
Celeborn made his way to his chambers slowly, stiff and sore but completely and utterly happy. He smelled of sex and had a silly grin on his face, he knew. His hair was a mess, and his clothing was rumpled and only just laced up, earning him many glances from the various servants and counselors he passed, some lustful, some scandalised, and some amused.
He didn't care though, as he pushed open the door to his rooms. It was worth it, and he didn't mind being the subject of the servant's gossip. He was anyway, whether he'd done anything to deserve it or not.
He froze in the doorway, though, as he beheld his room filled with buttery gold candlelight, his regular sheets replaced with wine-red satin and…and…. Ai, Valar!
"Well, just don't just stand there," purred Galadriel. "Come in and shut the door."