(Chapter 3)
Legolas and I seem to have killed Gandalf in our passion for one another. Hm. This was not how I intended things to go.
But allow me to back up a bit.
Our bad day began when we all wandered into a dusty room in Moria with a tomb in it, and a lot of dead dwarves lying around on the floor. Gimli got all drama-queen about it, probably hoping Legolas would cuddle him and make him feel better, but my clever Elf was having none of it. In fact, while Gandalf distracted everyone by being a show-off and translating aloud from some moth-eaten old book, Legolas pulled me behind a pillar and we picked up where we had left off the previous night.
He slid me right up the wall, so I was face to face with him, and pinned me there with his slender Elven hips. Next thing I knew his tongue was in my mouth; and did I mention he tastes like cinnamon bark? I'm not sure if he chews it when I'm not looking, or if all Elves taste pleasantly like trees, but really it's quite mouth-watering.
His hands were now getting bolder. One of them had crept its way to my rear, and was squeezing it rhythmically. And he has such long hands that his fingertips were brushing me between my legs as he did this. It was nearly driving me mad, as he knew quite well. I could feel a smile on his lips, against my mouth, and when I managed to focus my vision I could see his twinkling eyes watching me.
"Should I stop?" he whispered. "Would you rather hear more of Gandalf's translations?"
"Stop and I'll murder you," I whispered back, and began devouring his cinnamon tongue again.
Then I heard a moan--but it wasn't me, and it wasn't Legolas. (He's much too good about keeping his composure. He wouldn't moan where others might hear.) We stopped kissing and looked down, and there stood Pippin, watching us with his mouth hanging open.
"Beat it, Pip-squeak," requested Legolas.
"Pippin!" I said. "Can't we have a moment?"
"C-c-can't I watch?" was all Pippin answered.
Legolas, fast as a striking snake, whipped out his long knife and held it at Pippin's throat. "Please. Go. Away," said my Elf, in his deadliest, and dare I say sexiest, voice.
Pippin took an unsteady step backward, and proceeded to knock over an entire row of skeletons, which went tumbling into apparently the deepest well known to Middle-earth, causing the loudest noise since Sauron's body exploded however many years ago, and basically killed the romantic moment.
Everyone was startled. Legolas sighed and put me down. A flood of goblins came pouring through the door. General chaos ensued. "Son of a bitch," muttered Legolas--or at least, I think that's the closest Common-Tongue translation from the Elvish--and started slaughtering Orcs.
How I love watching him shoot those arrows! Such precision, such grace! Pull, release, pull, release...
Oops. So busy watching Legolas pull and release, I failed to notice the very large cave troll that had walked up to me. It knocked me across the room, then punched me in the chest, and I blacked out. How silly of me. Felt very foolish.
I woke up when Aragorn slung me over his shoulder. The room was much quieter now, and Aragorn was saying, "Well, guess we have to find a place to bury this one."
"I'm alive!" I protested. "You moron! Doesn't anyone take a pulse anymore?"
Aragorn nearly dropped me in surprise, and Legolas angrily took me out of his arms. "I'll handle it, thank you very much," Legolas said, and carried me several paces away.
In my ear he whispered, "I've felt your mithril when giving you a squeeze. I knew you couldn't be dead."
"Clever of you," I answered.
"Still," he said, "seeing you get stabbed made me angry enough to climb on that troll's head and kill it. Look."
He turned me so I could see the dead hulk of cave troll lying on the floor.
"Nice," I complimented.
He set me on the ground, and tore open my shirt to examine me for wounds. Everyone else crowded around to have a look. (Perverts.) There was a silence and a few gasps as my mithril negligee was revealed.
"Ohh, pretty," Merry sighed. "Can I touch it?"
Sam elbowed his way in and gave me a grope--somewhat surprising, since I know he fancies Legolas rather than me. "Hard as nails, too!" he said.
"Kinky," purred Boromir. Yuck!
Legolas shoved everyone out of the way and helped me rebutton my shirt. "All right, you've had your look. Move along."
"The Dwarves made that thing, you know," Gimli said. "And I've heard rumors that the Elves wear mithril garments as underpants. Is it true, Legolas?"
"Yeah, is it true?" said Aragorn, curiously. His eyes darted to Legolas's crotch.
"I'm not discussing my underpants with any of you," Legolas snarled. He scooped me up in his arms and pushed past Aragorn. "Move along, idiots."
They started to follow. "Look, it's just that you're pretty," apologized Aragorn. "Both of you."
We ignored him, and Legolas took me several paces ahead. Eventually I asked him if at least he would discuss his underpants with ME.
He looked at me and lifted an eyebrow. "Better yet," he said. "I'll let you explore them a little."
Well, that about did it. I gasped and got quite aroused--this with my legs straddling him, as he carried me on his hip. Clearly he felt it, for he stroked my cheek and teased, "Odd. I didn't know you were carrying TWO swords."
I sputtered something incoherent, and leaned in to kiss him, but then noticed the rest of the Fellowship behind us, staring at us avidly. So I withdrew. I'm tired of putting on peepshows for them. But I did content myself with slipping a hand into Legolas's leather vest and fondling his nipple--which, I might add, was mightily hard despite his aloof appearance. And when I looked at him, he glanced at me and ran his tongue along his teeth. How I refrained from knocking his feet out from under him and squirming against him like a teenager is beyond me.
But soon we were distracted yet again. An evil demon of some kind was coming up behind us. We went running across a little bridge, and waited while Gandalf rolled up his sleeves and started yelling at it. Finally he got the bridge to break, and the Balrog thingy went down.
In celebration, Gandalf spun around and wrapped up Legolas in his arms for a big wet kiss. Well. Legolas was too stunned to move at first, but I was seized with a sudden jealousy--and I whipped Sting out and smacked Gandalf across the kneecaps with the flat of the blade. Gandalf shouted in pain and fell off the bridge. Legolas, wiping his mouth, stepped closer to the edge to look down. There was Gandalf, hanging on, with his feet dangling in the abyss.
"Ah, your legs look so beautiful from down here, Legolas," Gandalf sighed, and reached out to fondle Legolas's ankle. But Legolas kicked his hand away, and Gandalf lost his hold. "You bitch," he sputtered, then fell into the darkness.
We were nearly getting hit by arrows left and right, so we decided to leave. Aragorn had been busy fighting Orcs or whatever, and didn't see what had happened. So when he asked us "Where's Gandalf?" we were able to make up a very convincing story about the Balrog's fire-whip.
I felt guilty, though. Really, I hadn't wanted to KILL anyone. But Legolas assures me that Gandalf probably isn't dead. In his words, "You can't kill those bloody wizards. I swear to Elbereth, the old buggers last forever."
Then he started nibbling my neck in the shadows of the forest, and told me how sexy it had been to see me wield Sting that way. All afternoon he's been making me blush with suggestions of how he sure would like to see me pull out "Sting" in private. Oh, WHEN will we have a moment to ourselves??
* * *
We've made it to Lothlorien. Attractive place. Pretty Elves everywhere--but nobody prettier than Legolas. They've given me a nice bed here in some tree branches, but I'm just writing this as a way to pass the time until the others are asleep, then you can bet your arse I'm sneaking out and getting into Legolas's bed.
Galadriel apparently knows that I plan to do this. Seems she's a mind-reader. Quite the party trick, that. I walk into the forest and suddenly some woman's saying in my head, "You bring great evil here." Took me a second to realize she meant the Ring and not my lustful thoughts.
But she discovered those before long too. Some stuck-up Elf named Haldir took us to stand in a row in front of her, and Galadriel said a few words, then spent a while staring at each of us. "I see," she said slowly. "There is great temptation among you, and great desire."
Our companions snickered and shuffled their feet, and glanced at us. Took me a great effort not to make a gagging gesture at Legolas.
Then Galadriel's eyes settled on me, and I felt this probing in my head. Totally weird. I just waited it out, and suddenly her eyes went huge. "You want to do WHAT to the Prince of Mirkwood??" said her voice, inside my mind.
I only shrugged. Hey, she's a mind-reader, no use trying to lie about my fantasies.
Her eyes flew to Legolas, and she looked even more shocked a few seconds later. "Haldir," she finally said aloud. "Put these two in SEPARATE quarters."
Bitch.
All right, now Sam's snoring in the next bunk over. I'm not waiting any longer. I'm off to do my Elf, dammit.
* * *
Ooooh, la la. My toes are still curling. Oh, that was marvelous. Not to mention interesting! Let's recap, shall we?
After writing the last entry I crept out of bed, employed my stealthy hobbit-skills in sneaking past the beds of my fellow travelers, and found the chamber they had given Legolas. (Being an Elf, he got an actual room, not just a treehouse bunk.) I knocked ever so softly, and after a few seconds he swung open the door. His room was dark except for one little candle, and in its light I could see that he was still dressed in his shirt and leggings, but had taken off his vest, coat, weapons, and boots, and was in the process of undoing his braids. I took a moment to admire his bare feet: so smooth, so slender, so little hair!
He smiled upon seeing me, beckoned me in, and closed the door behind me. "Get lost on our way back from raiding the kitchen, did we?"
I hopped up to sit on the edge of the bed. "That's the story I'll stick to if discovered, yes."
"Hm. Almost believable. But Galadriel knows better."
"So does everyone else. I don't care."
"Well, your timing is excellent. I was just hoping someone could show up to help me get ready for bed." Moving in that surprisingly fast way that he has, he tackled me on the mattress. I found myself lying beneath him, kissing him repeatedly and sweetly.
"I could help you," I answered, between kisses. "I would still very much like to...explore...all the layers you wear."
He fell onto his back, beside me. "Then start here," he said, guiding my shaking hands to the drawstring on his shirt.
I loosened the string, and then pushed the fabric up his silky skin, until his dark nipples showed, atop quite the impressive cut of chest muscle. The sight undid me; I couldn't wait, and I fell upon them, whimpering and suckling as if dying of thirst.
For the first time I saw Legolas lose some of his composure. He moaned softly, and his hips twisted in a way that looked involuntary. Then he recovered, and smiled, and while I sucked his nipples he pulled his shirt off, and tossed it neatly onto the floor.
"A fine start," he said. "Now you."
"Me?" (My mind was a bit fuzzy at the time.)
His strong hands tugged my shirttail out of the waistband of my trousers. "You." He shoved the suspenders off my shoulders and began unbuttoning my shirt with the quick precision everyone admires about him. In no time I was topless, and my shirt joined his on the floor, followed a few seconds later by the Ring on its chain, and the mithril lingerie. ("Too many associations with Gimli," Legolas said, shuddering, when he saw the mithril.)
I pounced upon him and we embraced, lips locking so hard it almost hurt, skin on skin above the waist, trousers providing maddening friction below.
"How I want to get into your underpants," I gasped. (Yes, I blush to write it, but that is what I said and this is, after all, for posterity.) "Mithril would not stop me."
"Nor would I wear mithril on such a sensitive part," he laughed. "Think how it would chafe!"
I winced. "A good point."
"Besides," he purred, and rotated his hips against me. I groaned, feeling the hardness rub mine. "I daresay if there were mithril between us, you would not feel these contours so clearly. You do feel them?"
"Lord, yes," I said. "I've felt them since Caradhras. Every waking moment."
"And I've felt your 'Sting'. Might I...?" His nimble fingers moved toward the fastenings of my trousers.
"Unsheathe?" I said, quite out of breath now.
"Excellent choice of words." He made one quick move, which flipped us over so that I was lying on my back and he was kneeling above me, then pulled open my breeches and tugged them down my legs. I felt the fabric slither past my feet, and heard it land on the floor. I was now clad only in my underlinens, a dull scrap of thin fabric that was woefully inadequate in hiding my, er, true feelings for him.
Legolas sighed contentedly, and lowered his head to kiss the peak that rose beneath that linen. I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out. His hand replaced his lips, and began stroking me gently, the way he might stroke the nose of a restless horse to calm it. It did quite the opposite for me, of course--I started writhing, and whispered, "For the love of mercy, Legolas..."
He lay beside me, hand still petting me. "For the love of mercy what?" he asked lightly.
"Can't I...before I...no, I need to see YOURS..." With all my willpower, I sat up (disrupting his hand motions), and began fumbling with the lacings of his trousers. He smiled, and was no help at all--he only spread his legs wide as if to assist me or give me room, knowing full well that it was the most distracting thing he could possibly do.
Somehow I got his trousers loosened, and yanked them down with a strength that surprised both of us. "A hungry hobbit yet," he murmured.
And when I had got the trousers out of the way, I crawled close and lay upon his legs, with my face near his hips, so that I could examine what he wore as an undergarment. For a moment, curiosity almost balanced my desire. The garment seemed dark in color, and covered very little (oh! What a beautiful body!), and when I ran my fingertips over it, it felt quite thin but leathery.
At my touch, Legolas lost some composure for the second time. "Ai," he whispered, and following was some slurred phrase of Elvish that I didn't understand, but from the tone of voice it was probably something quite dirty.
"What is this?" I asked, exploring the texture of his underwear.
"Calatherienoraniluravawenadel," he answered--or something like that, anyway. It was about eighteen syllables long, one of those Elvish botanical words that you can't possibly pronounce or remember when your mind is clouded with lust.
"Pardon?" I said--for, really, what else could one say?
He repeated it in a cascade of melodious tongue-twists, then translated, "Underpants leaf. A special leaf that we use just for this purpose. Makes a fine, warm, soft fabric."
"Mm. It smells nice, too." I tickled his bulge with my nose, enjoying the way he groaned. "Or is that just you?"
"No," he breathed. "It's...edible."
"Edible??" The finest word in the language to a hobbit!
"Yes. Feel free...if you're still hungry..."
"Oh, what do you mean IF!" I seized his finely-muscled waist in both hands, and tore away a scrap of the underpants-leaf with my teeth, just above his pelvic bone. I held the scrap in my mouth for a moment, and it began to dissolve on my tongue. It tasted quite pleasant, like tea with a sweet-and-salty overtone, with a hint of the spices that Legolas always tasted of--cinnamon and clove and indescribable Elven sweetness. I swallowed the dissolved leaf, and wriggled up closer for another mouthful.
This time I tore off a much larger swath, which I had to chew before swallowing. It almost uncovered him--I could see golden hairs glinting in the candlelight. Combining food with sex; could this get any better? One of his legs was pressed against my groin, and I squirmed against it as I savored the taste in my mouth.
"Ah...Frodo," he moaned.
"Do you want to taste?" I offered, and delicately pulled off another piece with my teeth, from lower between his legs. A very private fold of flesh was now visible, and I stroked it with my knuckle.
He jolted at my touch, then laughed breathlessly. "I've tried it. Many times. I want to taste...you..." And, impatient at my nibbles, he reached down and hauled me up beside him, and slipped his tongue into my wet mouth.
His hand was back at my linen, but not so slow or so gentle this time. I quite forgot about food, and began moving my hips in harmony with his strokes. Indeed, I could not have stayed still if I had tried. "Oh," I said, into his open mouth, "why don't you..."
"Why don't I what?"
I started wriggling to get out of my underwear, which had become quite confining.
"Ah," he chuckled. "Allow me." And in a few seconds he had unsheathed me entirely, and I lay there naked beside him. "Indeed, quite the Sting," he murmured, returning to kiss my neck, his hand wrapping around me.
I would write down what I answered, but I was becoming quite incoherent by then. I can scarcely remember a time when I wanted anyone or anything so badly. I turned my hungry and barely-focused eyes downward, and found that the torn underpants-leaf had slipped, and no longer covered him. Ah! Long and slender was this elf in more ways than one. I moaned against his neck, wishing my arm was long enough to reach him.
"If we're almost ready, then perhaps..." he said, and sat up carefully. Sitting with his legs apart, so I could see him in the candlelight, and making damned sure I was watching (as if I would look anywhere else!), he slowly peeled away another section of his edible undergarment, and then leaned down and draped it over me.
"Legolas, what are you..."
"What do you think," he murmured, and then fell upon his elbows at my waist, and took me into his mouth, and I felt the leaf dissolve all around me and grow slick against his warm tongue--and, ah, I do not think I lasted more than ten seconds after that. (Again, I must admit this for accuracy and posterity.) I shuddered with a cry which I muffled by biting my fist, and it was quite some time before the waves ceased to crash over me.
Lithe as always, he slid up and lay beside me, cradling me against his nearly-naked form. The heat and underpants-leaf between his legs brushed my thigh.
"I see," I panted, "why you didn't want to discuss them with anyone."
"Can you imagine?" he said. "If they found out they were edible?"
I giggled. "Gimli's just the right height, too."
"Shut up," he said, smiling. "Besides, so are you."
"Very true." I began crawling south on his body. "And I intend to make good use of that fact."
I won't say it was easy, a little person like me getting all of that--or even half of it--into my mouth. But if something tastes good, when has stuffing one's mouth ever been a problem for a hobbit? And allow me to tell you, Legolas wrapped in Cara-thara-vara-whatever leaf is one of the finest delicacies on Middle-earth.
How I loved every moment of it! The deadly Prince of Mirkwood, an immortal Elf, a golden being thousands of years old (he claims he's lost count, the coy lad), completely vulnerable for ME--a hobbit, lowly Frodo Baggins of Bag End! Not only vulnerable but begging for more, in fact! I know we had done our best to keep our stalkers away, but now I almost wished someone could be there to see it. Truly a Great Moment in my life.
Well, he lasted barely longer than me. And you'll be interested to know that Elves taste SWEET, not salty. Or at least this one does.
Still breathing hard, he pulled me up and hugged me against his chest. We were lying there quite happily, and beginning to murmur that we could probably have another go before dawn, when his door swung open and there stood Haldir, fully dressed, gazing impassively at us.
I jumped like a panicked squirrel, of course, and started grabbing for clothes to hide myself, but Legolas just lay there naked, stretched out and majestic, and said coldly, "Ever knock, Haldir?"
"Sorry," said Haldir, just as cold. "I'd heard you were an asshole, but hadn't heard you were also a slut. You're to come to a meeting; Galadriel's orders. Now."
"What could possibly be so important?" Legolas asked, still not making a move to cover himself, as if he were wearing velvet robes in a throne room, instead of a scrap of underpants-leaf in a bed-chamber (with a frantically embarrassed hobbit skittering about beside him).
"Oh, I don't know; a small trifle of jewelry you call the One Ring, perhaps?" Haldir answered.
"Then what could be more important than tending to the needs of the one who carries it?" Legolas answered. He reached over and stroked my hair.
"Very amusing. You will come with me NOW." Haldir clicked his heels and pranced off.
Legolas grumbled, sat up, and started putting his clothes back on. "I suppose I'd better go," he said. "But I will most certainly return to taste you again. Stay right here." He kissed me, then jumped up from the bed and left, muttering in Elvish--about what, I'm not sure; but as far as I could tell, it involved a complex relationship between Haldir, Haldir's mother, and a goat.
I was sorry to see him go, but I was also very tired after the day's exertions. So I blew out the candle, slipped under his sheets, and closed my eyes.
* * *
Still in Lothlorien. Fell asleep on my journal while writing that long account, and woke up with ink stains on my face. Probably had the phrase "underpants-leaf" imprinted in mirror-image on my cheek. Must be more careful about this kind of thing.
Today I got invited to look into this pond/mirror/birdbath thingy of Galadriel's. She insisted I do it. I thought maybe I had a strand of hair sticking up that was bothering her, but it turns out this birdbath is not really a mirror but more like a special showing of all your personal nightmares. Great.
I saw me and the Prince of Mirkwood getting it on in every corner of Middle-earth, and meanwhile other people kept trying to join in, and we kept killing them. Most alarming.
"I know what it is you saw," she said, "for it is in my mind also."
She thinks about us that way? Gross. Swear to Elbereth, I'm surrounded by perverts.
Must admit, though, I'm having doubts about the wisdom of this relationship. He's hot, yes, he loves me, yes, but is that really worth destroying the world?
What am I talking about. Of course it is.
* * *
Legolas and I seem to have killed Gandalf in our passion for one another. Hm. This was not how I intended things to go.
But allow me to back up a bit.
Our bad day began when we all wandered into a dusty room in Moria with a tomb in it, and a lot of dead dwarves lying around on the floor. Gimli got all drama-queen about it, probably hoping Legolas would cuddle him and make him feel better, but my clever Elf was having none of it. In fact, while Gandalf distracted everyone by being a show-off and translating aloud from some moth-eaten old book, Legolas pulled me behind a pillar and we picked up where we had left off the previous night.
He slid me right up the wall, so I was face to face with him, and pinned me there with his slender Elven hips. Next thing I knew his tongue was in my mouth; and did I mention he tastes like cinnamon bark? I'm not sure if he chews it when I'm not looking, or if all Elves taste pleasantly like trees, but really it's quite mouth-watering.
His hands were now getting bolder. One of them had crept its way to my rear, and was squeezing it rhythmically. And he has such long hands that his fingertips were brushing me between my legs as he did this. It was nearly driving me mad, as he knew quite well. I could feel a smile on his lips, against my mouth, and when I managed to focus my vision I could see his twinkling eyes watching me.
"Should I stop?" he whispered. "Would you rather hear more of Gandalf's translations?"
"Stop and I'll murder you," I whispered back, and began devouring his cinnamon tongue again.
Then I heard a moan--but it wasn't me, and it wasn't Legolas. (He's much too good about keeping his composure. He wouldn't moan where others might hear.) We stopped kissing and looked down, and there stood Pippin, watching us with his mouth hanging open.
"Beat it, Pip-squeak," requested Legolas.
"Pippin!" I said. "Can't we have a moment?"
"C-c-can't I watch?" was all Pippin answered.
Legolas, fast as a striking snake, whipped out his long knife and held it at Pippin's throat. "Please. Go. Away," said my Elf, in his deadliest, and dare I say sexiest, voice.
Pippin took an unsteady step backward, and proceeded to knock over an entire row of skeletons, which went tumbling into apparently the deepest well known to Middle-earth, causing the loudest noise since Sauron's body exploded however many years ago, and basically killed the romantic moment.
Everyone was startled. Legolas sighed and put me down. A flood of goblins came pouring through the door. General chaos ensued. "Son of a bitch," muttered Legolas--or at least, I think that's the closest Common-Tongue translation from the Elvish--and started slaughtering Orcs.
How I love watching him shoot those arrows! Such precision, such grace! Pull, release, pull, release...
Oops. So busy watching Legolas pull and release, I failed to notice the very large cave troll that had walked up to me. It knocked me across the room, then punched me in the chest, and I blacked out. How silly of me. Felt very foolish.
I woke up when Aragorn slung me over his shoulder. The room was much quieter now, and Aragorn was saying, "Well, guess we have to find a place to bury this one."
"I'm alive!" I protested. "You moron! Doesn't anyone take a pulse anymore?"
Aragorn nearly dropped me in surprise, and Legolas angrily took me out of his arms. "I'll handle it, thank you very much," Legolas said, and carried me several paces away.
In my ear he whispered, "I've felt your mithril when giving you a squeeze. I knew you couldn't be dead."
"Clever of you," I answered.
"Still," he said, "seeing you get stabbed made me angry enough to climb on that troll's head and kill it. Look."
He turned me so I could see the dead hulk of cave troll lying on the floor.
"Nice," I complimented.
He set me on the ground, and tore open my shirt to examine me for wounds. Everyone else crowded around to have a look. (Perverts.) There was a silence and a few gasps as my mithril negligee was revealed.
"Ohh, pretty," Merry sighed. "Can I touch it?"
Sam elbowed his way in and gave me a grope--somewhat surprising, since I know he fancies Legolas rather than me. "Hard as nails, too!" he said.
"Kinky," purred Boromir. Yuck!
Legolas shoved everyone out of the way and helped me rebutton my shirt. "All right, you've had your look. Move along."
"The Dwarves made that thing, you know," Gimli said. "And I've heard rumors that the Elves wear mithril garments as underpants. Is it true, Legolas?"
"Yeah, is it true?" said Aragorn, curiously. His eyes darted to Legolas's crotch.
"I'm not discussing my underpants with any of you," Legolas snarled. He scooped me up in his arms and pushed past Aragorn. "Move along, idiots."
They started to follow. "Look, it's just that you're pretty," apologized Aragorn. "Both of you."
We ignored him, and Legolas took me several paces ahead. Eventually I asked him if at least he would discuss his underpants with ME.
He looked at me and lifted an eyebrow. "Better yet," he said. "I'll let you explore them a little."
Well, that about did it. I gasped and got quite aroused--this with my legs straddling him, as he carried me on his hip. Clearly he felt it, for he stroked my cheek and teased, "Odd. I didn't know you were carrying TWO swords."
I sputtered something incoherent, and leaned in to kiss him, but then noticed the rest of the Fellowship behind us, staring at us avidly. So I withdrew. I'm tired of putting on peepshows for them. But I did content myself with slipping a hand into Legolas's leather vest and fondling his nipple--which, I might add, was mightily hard despite his aloof appearance. And when I looked at him, he glanced at me and ran his tongue along his teeth. How I refrained from knocking his feet out from under him and squirming against him like a teenager is beyond me.
But soon we were distracted yet again. An evil demon of some kind was coming up behind us. We went running across a little bridge, and waited while Gandalf rolled up his sleeves and started yelling at it. Finally he got the bridge to break, and the Balrog thingy went down.
In celebration, Gandalf spun around and wrapped up Legolas in his arms for a big wet kiss. Well. Legolas was too stunned to move at first, but I was seized with a sudden jealousy--and I whipped Sting out and smacked Gandalf across the kneecaps with the flat of the blade. Gandalf shouted in pain and fell off the bridge. Legolas, wiping his mouth, stepped closer to the edge to look down. There was Gandalf, hanging on, with his feet dangling in the abyss.
"Ah, your legs look so beautiful from down here, Legolas," Gandalf sighed, and reached out to fondle Legolas's ankle. But Legolas kicked his hand away, and Gandalf lost his hold. "You bitch," he sputtered, then fell into the darkness.
We were nearly getting hit by arrows left and right, so we decided to leave. Aragorn had been busy fighting Orcs or whatever, and didn't see what had happened. So when he asked us "Where's Gandalf?" we were able to make up a very convincing story about the Balrog's fire-whip.
I felt guilty, though. Really, I hadn't wanted to KILL anyone. But Legolas assures me that Gandalf probably isn't dead. In his words, "You can't kill those bloody wizards. I swear to Elbereth, the old buggers last forever."
Then he started nibbling my neck in the shadows of the forest, and told me how sexy it had been to see me wield Sting that way. All afternoon he's been making me blush with suggestions of how he sure would like to see me pull out "Sting" in private. Oh, WHEN will we have a moment to ourselves??
* * *
We've made it to Lothlorien. Attractive place. Pretty Elves everywhere--but nobody prettier than Legolas. They've given me a nice bed here in some tree branches, but I'm just writing this as a way to pass the time until the others are asleep, then you can bet your arse I'm sneaking out and getting into Legolas's bed.
Galadriel apparently knows that I plan to do this. Seems she's a mind-reader. Quite the party trick, that. I walk into the forest and suddenly some woman's saying in my head, "You bring great evil here." Took me a second to realize she meant the Ring and not my lustful thoughts.
But she discovered those before long too. Some stuck-up Elf named Haldir took us to stand in a row in front of her, and Galadriel said a few words, then spent a while staring at each of us. "I see," she said slowly. "There is great temptation among you, and great desire."
Our companions snickered and shuffled their feet, and glanced at us. Took me a great effort not to make a gagging gesture at Legolas.
Then Galadriel's eyes settled on me, and I felt this probing in my head. Totally weird. I just waited it out, and suddenly her eyes went huge. "You want to do WHAT to the Prince of Mirkwood??" said her voice, inside my mind.
I only shrugged. Hey, she's a mind-reader, no use trying to lie about my fantasies.
Her eyes flew to Legolas, and she looked even more shocked a few seconds later. "Haldir," she finally said aloud. "Put these two in SEPARATE quarters."
Bitch.
All right, now Sam's snoring in the next bunk over. I'm not waiting any longer. I'm off to do my Elf, dammit.
* * *
Ooooh, la la. My toes are still curling. Oh, that was marvelous. Not to mention interesting! Let's recap, shall we?
After writing the last entry I crept out of bed, employed my stealthy hobbit-skills in sneaking past the beds of my fellow travelers, and found the chamber they had given Legolas. (Being an Elf, he got an actual room, not just a treehouse bunk.) I knocked ever so softly, and after a few seconds he swung open the door. His room was dark except for one little candle, and in its light I could see that he was still dressed in his shirt and leggings, but had taken off his vest, coat, weapons, and boots, and was in the process of undoing his braids. I took a moment to admire his bare feet: so smooth, so slender, so little hair!
He smiled upon seeing me, beckoned me in, and closed the door behind me. "Get lost on our way back from raiding the kitchen, did we?"
I hopped up to sit on the edge of the bed. "That's the story I'll stick to if discovered, yes."
"Hm. Almost believable. But Galadriel knows better."
"So does everyone else. I don't care."
"Well, your timing is excellent. I was just hoping someone could show up to help me get ready for bed." Moving in that surprisingly fast way that he has, he tackled me on the mattress. I found myself lying beneath him, kissing him repeatedly and sweetly.
"I could help you," I answered, between kisses. "I would still very much like to...explore...all the layers you wear."
He fell onto his back, beside me. "Then start here," he said, guiding my shaking hands to the drawstring on his shirt.
I loosened the string, and then pushed the fabric up his silky skin, until his dark nipples showed, atop quite the impressive cut of chest muscle. The sight undid me; I couldn't wait, and I fell upon them, whimpering and suckling as if dying of thirst.
For the first time I saw Legolas lose some of his composure. He moaned softly, and his hips twisted in a way that looked involuntary. Then he recovered, and smiled, and while I sucked his nipples he pulled his shirt off, and tossed it neatly onto the floor.
"A fine start," he said. "Now you."
"Me?" (My mind was a bit fuzzy at the time.)
His strong hands tugged my shirttail out of the waistband of my trousers. "You." He shoved the suspenders off my shoulders and began unbuttoning my shirt with the quick precision everyone admires about him. In no time I was topless, and my shirt joined his on the floor, followed a few seconds later by the Ring on its chain, and the mithril lingerie. ("Too many associations with Gimli," Legolas said, shuddering, when he saw the mithril.)
I pounced upon him and we embraced, lips locking so hard it almost hurt, skin on skin above the waist, trousers providing maddening friction below.
"How I want to get into your underpants," I gasped. (Yes, I blush to write it, but that is what I said and this is, after all, for posterity.) "Mithril would not stop me."
"Nor would I wear mithril on such a sensitive part," he laughed. "Think how it would chafe!"
I winced. "A good point."
"Besides," he purred, and rotated his hips against me. I groaned, feeling the hardness rub mine. "I daresay if there were mithril between us, you would not feel these contours so clearly. You do feel them?"
"Lord, yes," I said. "I've felt them since Caradhras. Every waking moment."
"And I've felt your 'Sting'. Might I...?" His nimble fingers moved toward the fastenings of my trousers.
"Unsheathe?" I said, quite out of breath now.
"Excellent choice of words." He made one quick move, which flipped us over so that I was lying on my back and he was kneeling above me, then pulled open my breeches and tugged them down my legs. I felt the fabric slither past my feet, and heard it land on the floor. I was now clad only in my underlinens, a dull scrap of thin fabric that was woefully inadequate in hiding my, er, true feelings for him.
Legolas sighed contentedly, and lowered his head to kiss the peak that rose beneath that linen. I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out. His hand replaced his lips, and began stroking me gently, the way he might stroke the nose of a restless horse to calm it. It did quite the opposite for me, of course--I started writhing, and whispered, "For the love of mercy, Legolas..."
He lay beside me, hand still petting me. "For the love of mercy what?" he asked lightly.
"Can't I...before I...no, I need to see YOURS..." With all my willpower, I sat up (disrupting his hand motions), and began fumbling with the lacings of his trousers. He smiled, and was no help at all--he only spread his legs wide as if to assist me or give me room, knowing full well that it was the most distracting thing he could possibly do.
Somehow I got his trousers loosened, and yanked them down with a strength that surprised both of us. "A hungry hobbit yet," he murmured.
And when I had got the trousers out of the way, I crawled close and lay upon his legs, with my face near his hips, so that I could examine what he wore as an undergarment. For a moment, curiosity almost balanced my desire. The garment seemed dark in color, and covered very little (oh! What a beautiful body!), and when I ran my fingertips over it, it felt quite thin but leathery.
At my touch, Legolas lost some composure for the second time. "Ai," he whispered, and following was some slurred phrase of Elvish that I didn't understand, but from the tone of voice it was probably something quite dirty.
"What is this?" I asked, exploring the texture of his underwear.
"Calatherienoraniluravawenadel," he answered--or something like that, anyway. It was about eighteen syllables long, one of those Elvish botanical words that you can't possibly pronounce or remember when your mind is clouded with lust.
"Pardon?" I said--for, really, what else could one say?
He repeated it in a cascade of melodious tongue-twists, then translated, "Underpants leaf. A special leaf that we use just for this purpose. Makes a fine, warm, soft fabric."
"Mm. It smells nice, too." I tickled his bulge with my nose, enjoying the way he groaned. "Or is that just you?"
"No," he breathed. "It's...edible."
"Edible??" The finest word in the language to a hobbit!
"Yes. Feel free...if you're still hungry..."
"Oh, what do you mean IF!" I seized his finely-muscled waist in both hands, and tore away a scrap of the underpants-leaf with my teeth, just above his pelvic bone. I held the scrap in my mouth for a moment, and it began to dissolve on my tongue. It tasted quite pleasant, like tea with a sweet-and-salty overtone, with a hint of the spices that Legolas always tasted of--cinnamon and clove and indescribable Elven sweetness. I swallowed the dissolved leaf, and wriggled up closer for another mouthful.
This time I tore off a much larger swath, which I had to chew before swallowing. It almost uncovered him--I could see golden hairs glinting in the candlelight. Combining food with sex; could this get any better? One of his legs was pressed against my groin, and I squirmed against it as I savored the taste in my mouth.
"Ah...Frodo," he moaned.
"Do you want to taste?" I offered, and delicately pulled off another piece with my teeth, from lower between his legs. A very private fold of flesh was now visible, and I stroked it with my knuckle.
He jolted at my touch, then laughed breathlessly. "I've tried it. Many times. I want to taste...you..." And, impatient at my nibbles, he reached down and hauled me up beside him, and slipped his tongue into my wet mouth.
His hand was back at my linen, but not so slow or so gentle this time. I quite forgot about food, and began moving my hips in harmony with his strokes. Indeed, I could not have stayed still if I had tried. "Oh," I said, into his open mouth, "why don't you..."
"Why don't I what?"
I started wriggling to get out of my underwear, which had become quite confining.
"Ah," he chuckled. "Allow me." And in a few seconds he had unsheathed me entirely, and I lay there naked beside him. "Indeed, quite the Sting," he murmured, returning to kiss my neck, his hand wrapping around me.
I would write down what I answered, but I was becoming quite incoherent by then. I can scarcely remember a time when I wanted anyone or anything so badly. I turned my hungry and barely-focused eyes downward, and found that the torn underpants-leaf had slipped, and no longer covered him. Ah! Long and slender was this elf in more ways than one. I moaned against his neck, wishing my arm was long enough to reach him.
"If we're almost ready, then perhaps..." he said, and sat up carefully. Sitting with his legs apart, so I could see him in the candlelight, and making damned sure I was watching (as if I would look anywhere else!), he slowly peeled away another section of his edible undergarment, and then leaned down and draped it over me.
"Legolas, what are you..."
"What do you think," he murmured, and then fell upon his elbows at my waist, and took me into his mouth, and I felt the leaf dissolve all around me and grow slick against his warm tongue--and, ah, I do not think I lasted more than ten seconds after that. (Again, I must admit this for accuracy and posterity.) I shuddered with a cry which I muffled by biting my fist, and it was quite some time before the waves ceased to crash over me.
Lithe as always, he slid up and lay beside me, cradling me against his nearly-naked form. The heat and underpants-leaf between his legs brushed my thigh.
"I see," I panted, "why you didn't want to discuss them with anyone."
"Can you imagine?" he said. "If they found out they were edible?"
I giggled. "Gimli's just the right height, too."
"Shut up," he said, smiling. "Besides, so are you."
"Very true." I began crawling south on his body. "And I intend to make good use of that fact."
I won't say it was easy, a little person like me getting all of that--or even half of it--into my mouth. But if something tastes good, when has stuffing one's mouth ever been a problem for a hobbit? And allow me to tell you, Legolas wrapped in Cara-thara-vara-whatever leaf is one of the finest delicacies on Middle-earth.
How I loved every moment of it! The deadly Prince of Mirkwood, an immortal Elf, a golden being thousands of years old (he claims he's lost count, the coy lad), completely vulnerable for ME--a hobbit, lowly Frodo Baggins of Bag End! Not only vulnerable but begging for more, in fact! I know we had done our best to keep our stalkers away, but now I almost wished someone could be there to see it. Truly a Great Moment in my life.
Well, he lasted barely longer than me. And you'll be interested to know that Elves taste SWEET, not salty. Or at least this one does.
Still breathing hard, he pulled me up and hugged me against his chest. We were lying there quite happily, and beginning to murmur that we could probably have another go before dawn, when his door swung open and there stood Haldir, fully dressed, gazing impassively at us.
I jumped like a panicked squirrel, of course, and started grabbing for clothes to hide myself, but Legolas just lay there naked, stretched out and majestic, and said coldly, "Ever knock, Haldir?"
"Sorry," said Haldir, just as cold. "I'd heard you were an asshole, but hadn't heard you were also a slut. You're to come to a meeting; Galadriel's orders. Now."
"What could possibly be so important?" Legolas asked, still not making a move to cover himself, as if he were wearing velvet robes in a throne room, instead of a scrap of underpants-leaf in a bed-chamber (with a frantically embarrassed hobbit skittering about beside him).
"Oh, I don't know; a small trifle of jewelry you call the One Ring, perhaps?" Haldir answered.
"Then what could be more important than tending to the needs of the one who carries it?" Legolas answered. He reached over and stroked my hair.
"Very amusing. You will come with me NOW." Haldir clicked his heels and pranced off.
Legolas grumbled, sat up, and started putting his clothes back on. "I suppose I'd better go," he said. "But I will most certainly return to taste you again. Stay right here." He kissed me, then jumped up from the bed and left, muttering in Elvish--about what, I'm not sure; but as far as I could tell, it involved a complex relationship between Haldir, Haldir's mother, and a goat.
I was sorry to see him go, but I was also very tired after the day's exertions. So I blew out the candle, slipped under his sheets, and closed my eyes.
* * *
Still in Lothlorien. Fell asleep on my journal while writing that long account, and woke up with ink stains on my face. Probably had the phrase "underpants-leaf" imprinted in mirror-image on my cheek. Must be more careful about this kind of thing.
Today I got invited to look into this pond/mirror/birdbath thingy of Galadriel's. She insisted I do it. I thought maybe I had a strand of hair sticking up that was bothering her, but it turns out this birdbath is not really a mirror but more like a special showing of all your personal nightmares. Great.
I saw me and the Prince of Mirkwood getting it on in every corner of Middle-earth, and meanwhile other people kept trying to join in, and we kept killing them. Most alarming.
"I know what it is you saw," she said, "for it is in my mind also."
She thinks about us that way? Gross. Swear to Elbereth, I'm surrounded by perverts.
Must admit, though, I'm having doubts about the wisdom of this relationship. He's hot, yes, he loves me, yes, but is that really worth destroying the world?
What am I talking about. Of course it is.
* * *