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Trystus Interruptus
by kalurien

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Chapter Three

Elrond removed his clothing rapidly, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the sandy beach as he waded into the surf.  The deep blue color of the water, reflecting the cerulean blue of the sky, the crashing of the waves and the soft sand between his toes soothed his frustration somewhat.

He dove into the cool water and swam for a while, floating on his back, thinking about Celebrían and wondering if they would ever have a normal life together; their union blessed by her parents, a home and children.  He knew it would break her heart to defy her mother, to risk being disowned, hence the need for this secrecy.

He smiled wryly.  If only Gil-galad would simply fall in love with someone else.  I am not such a bad second choice if one cannot have a king for a son-in-law.  I am vice regent after all.  He would just have to discourage his cousin's budding interest, a difficult feat, given that the lady had no faults whatsoever.

The sun sank lower into the horizon and the shadows stretched longer.  Elrond finally shook himself out of his reverie and noted that he had drifted some distance from the shore.  Swimming with a strong stroke for a few minutes brought him back to the area where he had left his clothes.  He squinted and looked around.  The area where he had thought he left his clothes.

Where was that large rock that I sat upon when I removed my boots?  Elrond closed his eyes as realization washed over him like a cold wave of salty water.  The tide was coming in.  His clothing, his boots, his knapsack with spare garments, all had been washed away by the advancing sea.

He stood there in the shallows for a while, reflecting on his own stupidity and wondering how on Arda he had acquired a reputation as one of the wisest of all counselors.  It was all very well to be able to understand every language spoken on the continent, but the knowledge paled in comparison to the ability to make a simple timely observation; taking notice if the tide was ebbing or flowing.

He pushed his wet hair out of his eyes and sighed.  He had not been looking forward to answering any enquiries about the mushroom encrusted clothing anyway.  To say that this was turning out to not be his day was most decidedly a vast understatement.

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"Ah Elrond!  There you are at last!"  Gil-galad paused and stared for a long moment.  "I agree the weather is somewhat warmer than we are used to, but do you not think that total nudity is a trifle excessive?"

A muscle in the vice regent's face twitched a little.  "Would you be so kind as to beg a complete set of clothing from our host on my behalf?  I seem to have lost all of mine."

Gil-galad smirked.  "Dare I enquire as to the circumstances?"

Elrond turned to look at him with a death wish in his eyes.  "No."

"Very well, do not tell me.  I will simply imagine something on my own."

Elrond sighed.  "Do not, it is nothing spectacular.  I was merely swimming and the incoming tide washed everything away."

"I see.  Well, that is certainly a dull explanation.  What of your extra clothing?"

"Gone as well, I was going to change my attire after swimming."

The high king looked somewhat puzzled.  "Did you not just bathe and change a few hours ago?"

Elrond wrapped a blanket from the bed around himself and sitting, rubbed his eyes.  "Was there a reason you seek me out?"

"Indeed yes.  Do you think you could brew a salve of some sort to ward off insects?"

Elrond managed to maintain a serious expression.  "There is an insect problem here?  Surely our hosts will have a remedy readily available."

Gil-galad shook his head.  "Nay, they do not, I have made inquiries.  I seem to be the only one affected."

Elrond felt a strong twinge of remorse although he took pains not to show it.  "I would not concern yourself.  Perhaps it was a question of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Next to a hive, maybe."

"Possibly you are correct although I wonder why they did not bother the lady."

"Hmm, yes."  Elrond began to think about Celebrían and a sudden tingling rushed through his loins.  Kissing her . . . touching her breasts . . . so silky . . .  

"Elrond?"

He jumped.  "Yes, what?"

Gil-galad looked at him, slightly annoyed.  "You were not attending."

"My apologies.  You were saying?"

The high king waved his hand.  "Nothing, never mind."  His lips twitched a little.  "I will see about finding you some clothing."

Elrond smiled as well.  "I suppose I could always just wear the armor."

His cousin considered this for a moment.  "Ah, no.  That would undoubtedly be extremely uncomfortable."  He paused and his eyes twinkled.  "Although the mental image is really very amusing."

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Glorfindel was impressed.  "Quite an elaborate display on such short notice."

Erestor nodded his agreement.  "Well, tis not often the high king visits an area so far removed, it would be an occasion for celebration, certainly."   He smiled a little.  "Quite possibly the lady Galadriel had some advance notice of our imminent arrival."

Glorfindel frowned.  "Ah yes, that basin she looks into?"

Erestor smirked.  "I believe she refers to it as a mirror."

"Yes, yes."  Glorfindel snorted.  "Whatever."

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Elrond accepted a glass of wine gratefully and raised it to his lips, looking around at the gathering.  Suddenly, there was Celebrían, a ways removed, conversing with her mother.  Invariably his heart began to pound and the palms of his hands grew sweaty, while elsewhere a more noticeable reaction occurred as a more enthusiastic body part leapt to attention immediately.  Elrond blessed the concealing qualities of his formal robes.  He found himself focusing his mind intently on her.  Meleth nín.

She looked up, startled, and their eyes locked together.  Melethron.

Elrond marveled at the mental connection they had just now established, conclusive evidence of the bonding of their feär.

Celebrían continued to chat with her mother, giving him occasional sidelong glances.  Do you like my gown?

Elrond took a sip of his wine and leered mentally.  Indeed yes.  It looks nearly as good on you as it would look on the floor next to the bed.

Celebrían maintained a composed appearance.  You are very naughty.

Elrond sighed.  I would certainly like to be . . .

Soon, Meleth nín, soon . . .

"Is there something amiss?  For what reason are you sighing so heavily?"

Elrond nearly choked on his wine and turned to see Glorfindel eyeing him with concern.  "Was I sighing?  I was completely unaware.  Tis nothing, rest assured that I am fine."

His closest friend held his hands up with a smile.  "Calm yourself, I regret that I asked."  He raised his eyebrows.  "Well?  I am waiting."

Elrond was puzzled.  "Waiting?  Waiting for what, pray tell?"

Glorfindel folded his arms across his chest.  "Waiting for you to tell me what is happening here.  First Gil-galad acts oddly and now you exhibit strange behavior as well."  His bright blue eyes narrowed.  "Come to think on it, you did act mysteriously when I was here with you previously."

Elrond grew uncomfortable beneath his sharp gaze.  "Tis nothing but your own imagination, truly."

Glorfindel remained unconvinced as Gil-galad appeared by his side.  "Who is imagining things?"

Would you like me to describe what I plan on doing to you later on?  Indeed, what I wish I could do to you right this very moment?

Elrond looked up quickly to see Celebrían run her tongue slowly across her upper lip.  He hurriedly adjusted the front of his robe.  "No one  . . . that is . . . nothing.  I simply . . ." He paused.  "Is there more wine somewhere?  It is certainly hot today."  You enjoy torturing me too much, Lady.

Yes, I am truly wicked and you love that, admit it.  Would you like to guess what I am wishing was inside my mouth at this instant?

Celebrían nonchalantly placed a carrot between her lips and seemed to savor it for a while before she bit it.  Elrond made a small noise in his throat, not unlike a whimper and it did not go unnoticed by Glorfindel who noted the direction of his friend's slightly anguished gaze. 

Oh dear.  Glorfindel bit his lip.  He became worried for his friend.  He had no doubt as to who would win if there was to be a competition between Elrond and Gil-galad for the lady's favor, one does not turn down a proposal of marriage from the high king.

. . . And then I would very slowly lick every inch of your . . . 

"Elrond, a word with you?" 

The vice regent jumped at the touch of Glorfindel's hand on his arm.  He shook it off, distracted.  "Nay, not now, perhaps it can wait?  The bell has rung, indicating we should be seated."

Celebrían shot him a meaningful look.  Make haste, Melethron, or you will miss sitting next to me.  Elrond hurried to the chair on her left, leaving Glorfindel staring after him somewhat numbly.

Celebrían gave him the required cold look before turning back to Gil-galad on her right, bestowing a dazzling smile on the high king.

Elrond opened a walnut with a sharp crack.  Were you not going to discourage him, meleth nín?  He felt a hand lightly touch his thigh, trailing a finger around the intricate design of the embroidered robe. 

I must not be rude; he is the king . . . Why are you wearing my father's clothing?

Elrond sighed.  Tis a long story . . .

No matter . . . . The hand found its way between the folds of the fabric and Elrond felt his body temperature rise dramatically. 

"Maer aduial to you, bain pen.  How lovely to see you once more."

Elrond jumped at the sudden voice in his ear and groaned inwardly to observe an Elf of Celeborn's council seat himself in the vacant chair to his left.  "Suilad, Lenwë, the pleasure is mine, certainly."

Elrond looked across the table to see Glorfindel nudging Erestor with a smirk on his lips and he managed to get in a quick scowl in their direction before the blond Elf to his left claimed his attention once more.  Elrond only listened to him with half an ear as the blonde Elf to his right persisted in her own very stimulating but wordless manner of communication.  Meleth nín, please, unless you wish for my complete embarrassment.

As you wish, Melethron.  Her hand gave him a last quick squeeze before she withdrew it and he gasped involuntarily. 

Lenwë chuckled into his ear.  "I see by your reaction that the thought intrigues you."

Elrond returned his wayward attention back to the Elf of Belfalas with some confusion.  "Yes?  It does?"  He buttered a slice of bread, wondering what on Arda they were talking about.  As he took a bite, Lenwë erased all doubt by moving his hand under the table to caress the Peredhel's thigh in a most seductive manner, his fingers quickly moving on to greater intimacy as they encountered the hard evidence of Celebrían's recent ministrations.

"My goodness," Lenwë whispered, fondling him with a squeeze of his own.  "You certainly are interested; shall we make our excuses immediately?"

Elrond wasted no time in proceeding to choke on his mouthful of bread, prompting his dinner companions on all sides to look at him with concern, those closest helpfully pounding him on the back.

Elrond held up his hands in protest, gasping.  "Water?"  He accepted a glass gratefully, recovering his composure as he drank.  "I am fine, thank you.  Please carry on with your dinner."

The blond Elf to his left chuckled once more.  "I know that which I would like to dine on and it certainly will not be served on a plate."

Elrond winced as the hand to the left crept back onto his thigh.  He became thoroughly undone as the hand to his right made a reappearance as well.  He let out a small moan of agony which both of his admirers took for passion as their hands encountered each other in their identical pursuits of groping the vice regent.  Two remarks, equally identical, one whispered, one silent, both penetrated his consciousness simultaneously.  Ah, you are providing me with assistance?  You are such a naughty one . . . 

Elrond quietly became frantic.  Celebrían . . .

Meleth nín?   She nonchalantly turned from the high king to observe Elrond out of the corner of her eye as he very pointedly placed both of his hands on the dinner table.  Celebrían froze, her eyes widening.  She stole a quick glance at the Elf on the other side of her lover.  Oh dear Eru.  She rapidly withdrew her hand and choked a little into her napkin.

Help me, mell pen.  How do I discourage this one?

I wish that I knew, I have a similar problem myself . . .

Elrond leaned forward to look past her at Gil-galad with a scowl.  Placing his hand in her lap he encountered the overly familiar one belonging to the high king, who yelped a little as Elrond pinched it viciously.

Gil-galad reddened and focused his attention on the roasted chicken before him as Celebrían smiled to herself and Lenwë yelped in turn as his hand came into close contact with the sharp tines of a fork.

Glorfindel looked across the table with interest at them, having very little idea what was happening, but extremely amused all the same.  Erestor was completely oblivious to most of it, being occupied with spouting a lengthy and somewhat boring discourse to which no one was listening to on the mating habits of the giant eagles of the Misty Mountains, Gwaihir in particular, who apparently sired the entire race.

"Indeed yes, how fascinating."  Celeborn coughed a little.  "Is the food not to your liking Hîrath nín?  Why is no one eating?" 

Everyone suddenly became very absorbed in the dishes set before them, voicing apologetic mumbles between rapid bites except for Lenwë who alternated between eating awkwardly with his left hand and nursing his injured right one, muttering incoherently all the while.

Galadriel smiled beatifically over the assemblage, well pleased.  "This has been such a lovely dinner party.  We shall do this more often, I think."  

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Feär- souls
Maer aduial- good evening    
Bain pen- beautiful one

Stay tuned for part four . . .