Chapter 37
We made it onto the bed finally, as the spill of moonlight through my windows lengthened. There I worked open Legolas' breeches and fed off his shaky laughter as I once more had to contend with his laces. My own I undid hastily and it was a relief to be rid of my clothes. I pressed my aching flesh into his side and he twisted his head and found my mouth with his own. The kiss was deep and he sucked on my tongue until starlight filled my vision and I had well-nigh forgotten my own name.
The he released me and his eyes on mine were the blue fire of Vilya upon my finger. I stroked my palm down his chest, down over the flat plains of his belly, and then I found his length, twitching and swollen.
"Oh, ai," he breathed, as I gave him a first stroke and he arched upwards.
I fisted him slowly, drinking down his every moan. His kisses became erratic but I enjoyed that, too, as I pushed him deeper into ecstasy. When he was trembling in the moonlight, I paused and pressed a new kiss to his mouth.
"More?" I whispered. For I wanted more.
His eyes were heavy-lidded and his breathing quick. "Aye," he managed.
His heat invaded me yet again but I abandoned his risen flesh and hurriedly turned to fetch the oil. When I lay once again against him, I dropped a kiss to his shoulder.
"How?"
He roused himself enough to speak and through the desire that blazed in his eyes, an edge of worry gleamed.
"I can do it," he said. "You would not have to."
But I shook my head. For he lay outstretched before me, unclad and yearning, and it was my keenest desire to cover all of him and discover everything about him.
"I will do it."
He licked his lips and it was an irregular heartbeat or two before he replied. "Slick your fingers then, my lord."
And I did so. In the moonlight, Legolas turned onto his side and for a moment all I could do was to behold him. He was light in the light, gold clad in silver-white and his skin over his lightly muscled arms and legs glowed. But then the fire overtook me and my eyes went to his backside and with my oiled fingers I discovered the crease there and what lay hidden beyond.
His secret opening beckoned to me and it was by instinct that I began exploring it. His exhale came shuddering from him and I opened my mouth on his shoulder and left wet, warm kisses there. I was reaching for the fire now, drawing steadily closer, and then, ere I had planned it, I pressed a first fingertip inside him and heard myself groan. For he was too tight, so hot and forbidding and yet so willing. He shifted his top leg and gave me easier access and I pressed deeper inside. His moan transformed into a whimper as I pushed my finger inside him.
"Please…" His hand was fisted in the linen, I saw when I could see again. "Please… open me."
I did my very best. His muscles were tight and taut as I stretched him, not knowing exactly which way was better but I explored the muscle as best I could and little by little it gave way. His breathing was somehow both shallow and deep, ragged and smooth. I dropped my head to his shoulder and squeezed my eyes shut when I discovered that three of my fingers slid into him fairly easily and my own flesh jerked against the bed.
"Legolas…" I found my voice almost perished in the fire. "Tell me…"
He nodded, then, frantically into the pillow. "Aye…"
That was when I withdrew and instead took myself in hand. I gave my length a forceful stroke and felt the bed dissolve under me. Great flames were licking at me, urging me on, and they ate the remnants of any walls around my mind, and illuminated my very soul. Thus unshielded and exposed, I placed the head of my length at his opening and pushed inside, and I was utterly consumed.
I sank into him, pushed into his light that was all around me. I moved into his heart, felt all of him accept me, and my hand found his and my kisses his neck. Entirely without thought I dove deeper and he was first strung tight with tension. But then his moans came like a song and he melted into me, and I into him.
I moved within him, into the tightness and all that heat. He moved against me, and he twisted his head and our kiss was messy but glorious. Then he pushed my hand down and I read his intent at once, and I found his length hard and leaking at the tip. I encircled it as I thrust deep into him and then I stroked him hard. He keened, then, and it was a noise that obliterated every reservation I had ever had. Every shudder that raced through me became his and by the time we peaked, I am sure we were both shaking. When he came he spilled his release all over my hand. And I, with my groan torn from my burning throat, emptied myself in the raging fires of his most secret depths.
Long we lay with tremors and shudders racing across our skin for the world simply would not settle. We shared a shaky laugh and ever more confused kisses and I caressed his body and brushed fingertips over his quivering length until he was squirming. Finally, though I immediately regretted it, I slipped from his body and dropped down onto my back and he fell against me.
The moonlight had moved on and now only the stars illuminated the night. The air was warm and still. Slowly I surfaced, until I saw again the bedposts and my curtains. Then Legolas shifted and he moved to curl around me. The fire was cooling in his skin and he was himself again and not the overwhelming blaze I had discovered. But that was a blessing, I suspected, for I was not sure I could have endured any more heat that night, for that would have eradicated me. And yet I knew that I would seek again to chase his fire ere long.
And so smiling I caught his hand in mine and brought it to my lips and kissed it. His sigh wafted over my shoulder and chest and he pressed a little closer to me. And there in the silver starlight, we drifted off into dreams.
o.O.o
Dawn came clear and bright. It found us much like we had fallen asleep: with Legolas twined around me. As sunlight brought a golden glow to the air, he stretched against me.
I found his arm which had come around my waist and upon his skin I drew invisible patterns with my fingertips until he laughed and withdrew.
"It tickles, my lord."
"Does it so?"
He raised himself up to be able to look into my face. The sunlight was in him, too, and his smile was soft. I lifted my fingers to his cheek instead and stroked it.
"I could never have imagined," I said quietly, "what it would be like."
He bit his lip and into his eyes came an intense glow. "It was more than I have ever known," he admitted. "I thought I was going to explode."
"I would have gone with you," I told him. "For I cannot leave you now, even if I wanted to. Which," I added, with another smile, "I do not."
Then he kissed me.
It took us a long time to make it out of bed that morning. When we were finally washed and dressed – Legolas in his clothes from yesterday – I caught him by the waist and pulled him into my arms.
"Go to your chambers and change," I told him. "And come then to breakfast." I smiled and ran my fingers over his still damp hair. "And try to look as though I only read you poetry in the high Elven tongue last night."
"Oh, the Elven tongue," said he, and his eyes glittered. "I know your tongue, my lord."
I groaned but kissed him.
I was not the last to breakfast and nor was Legolas for it was still fairly early. But Glorfindel was there when I entered the room and he took one look at me before he shook his head.
"By the Valar, Elrond," he said, with not a little exasperation leaking into his voice. "You appear as though Telperion and Laurelin themselves have materialised in your bedchamber and you have beheld them all night. If Legolas looks any more the same, Thranduil will have your head."
"Thranduil may hew as he pleases but it will not be at my head," I told him. "For we have spoken and settled this matter between us."
"Be that as it may," he replied dryly. "But seeing you thus he may very well change his mind."
The sweet scent of warming soil and grass drifted through the window and birdsong came with it as I smiled at Glorfindel, truly unable to do much else.
"He will not," I told him.
But Glorfindel only gave me a look full of doubt before he settled down at the table. He did forsake his usual seat, however, and so left the one to my right unclaimed. Hiding yet another smile from him, I reached for the bread and awaited Legolas.
He arrived in the company of my sons and perhaps it was their talk that had chased the most shining edge of bliss from his face, for they were discussing archery and seemed quite absorbed by it. Both Elladan and Elrohir were dressed for riding or fighting, I noted, and Legolas had donned thicker breeches. A twist came to my heart as I spotted this for it made me fear that they had changed their minds and would be off again though they had promised to stay for a while. But I soon discovered that my worry had been unfounded for no more had Elrohir snagged a roll of bread and the jar of honey before he turned to me and spoke:
"Father," he said, "good morning." He dropped down into the chair by Glorfindel and grinned. "You should know that we happened on Legolas as he was making his way to his chambers. Since he appeared all alone we offered to take him out into the practice fields for some more training after breakfast."
Legolas had shifted a bit closer to me but there was a shade of hesitancy about him. Therefore, I pushed out Glorfindel's abandoned chair and motioned for him to sit down. A timid smile caught his lips and he quickly slid into it.
"It would please me, my lord," he said, his eyes on mine. "For it has been a while since we last tested our skills and I have since learnt much of your way of fighting."
"Then you shall," I told him. "You may do whatever you please. I am sure you will enjoy the exercise."
"Ah, yes," said Elladan tartly, and his lips twitched. "For I am sure you have seen no exercise at all in the past few hours."
Not even Glorfindel could scowl at that. Rather, I heard from him the failed attempt to hide his snort and Legolas' cheeks were suddenly burning.
So it was that I levelled my gaze at Elladan before I lifted my hand to Legolas' reddened cheek and quite deliberately leaned in and kissed him. And when it was over, and shock danced in his grey-blue eyes, I sat back and proceeded to butter my own bread.
Then Elrohir inclined his head at me and his grin had melted into a genuinely appreciative smile.
"Well played, father," he said. "Well indeed."
TBC
