E/N: SMUT ALERT!!! Look, I can't help myself and I know some of you lot out
there, no names mentioned *cough* Chrissie *cough* Moj *cough* like what I
write..... God, we're pervs, aren't we? Oh well, I'm proud to be a perv! If
you think I might warp you're mind with this chapter (or more so
considering previous chapters) then don't bother reading it. That's all I'm
saying. You have had fair warning now. Mojo, don't say I didn't warn you!
Can somebody PLEASE read Welcome to Ankh Morpork? I have had no reviews for it whatsoever! I'm going to take it off if I've had no reviews after another week. *sigh* It'll be my first failure. *sob*
Luvs Elfie xXxXx
Translations:
Meleth-nin = my love Termara ná ar véla = Try it and see Ai, manadh = ah, bliss
Chapter 33
Legolas felt terrible. He had let his anger get the better of him and in doing so he'd upset Silva. But he didn't even understand his own actions. Why had he been so harsh to her? None of it was her fault but he hadn't even shown concern when she told him Tarnen had harmed her.
"What the hell am I doing?" he asked himself. "I've been sitting in this library alone now for an hour. She's going to think I really do hate her again. Oh gods, why do I always manage to mess up everything good in my life?" He stood and left the library in search of his lover.
**
Silva sat at her dressing room table, her head resting on her hand, wincing with pain. Having changed out of the ruined dress and bathed to cleanse herself, one of her chambermaids was now bathing her cut to ensure it wasn't or wouldn't become infected. When she was finished, she pressed a small, soft pad to the cut to soak up whatever blood proceeded to flow.
"All done, ma'am," she said.
"Thank you," said Silva, distantly, staring out of the window. The maid hesitated for a moment.
"Are you alright, my lady?" she asked tentatively. Silva slowly turned her head to look at the maid.
"Yes, I'm fine," she said quietly.
"Would you have me fetch someone to keep you company, ma'am? King Thranduil, if he's free? Or Prince Legolas perhaps?" Silva's eyes flickered with sadness. The female Elf could tell she had struck a nerve.
"No, I am fine on my own, thank you," Silva replied after a pause. "Can you make sure I'm not disturbed this afternoon, please? I want to be alone." The maid nodded and curtseyed and made no sign physically or vocally that she was aware of the Prince's presence in the room.
Silva folded her arms on the table and rested her forehead on them. She sighed sadly and closed her eyes. 'What did I do? I'm the victim, why is he blaming me? Doesn't he believe me? Does he honestly think I would lie?' She forced the tears not to flow. 'I've done too much of that recently. Too often have I weakness.'
She sensed movement next to her. Her body tensed for fear of it being Tarnen. Her eyes opened and she raised her head slowly. She received a shock when she looked down to her left and saw Legolas kneeling next to her. She smiled slightly with confusion. He took her hand.
"Sweet Lady of Mirkwood, I come to beg your forgiveness," he said softly. "My words to you were unkind and stern. I had no thought for your distress. I was driven by anger, though that is no excuse. I am sorry. I will love you until the end of time. Will you accept my apology?" She watched him for a moment and then knelt next to him. She lifted a hand to his cheek and kissed him gently, then she pulled him into a loving embrace.
"There is nothing to forgive," she said. "You are here now, that is all that matters." They sat for a minute with their arms wrapped around each other and then they both stood. Silva leant against her dressing table whilst Legolas sat on the chair.
"What did he do to you, meleth-nin?" he asked.
"You don't need to know," she replied. "It will only anger you again."
"I promise you I will not anger." A smile graced his face. "I would have you tell me so I can kiss it better."
"There are some parts of me I would not have you kiss." She crossed her arms mock defiantly. He stood in front of her.
"But would you refuse if I offered?" He placed his hands on her hips and she sat on the table surface. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer.
"Maybe. Try me and see." His smirk widened.
"Would you say no if I kissed you here?" He held a finger to her lips.
"No." He kissed her and began unlacing the back of her dress. When he finished, he pulled away from her.
"What about here?" He indicated her neck.
"No." He nuzzled her neck.
"Here?" He pointed to her injury that showed in the wide neck of her dress.
"No." He pressed his lips to it and pushed the dress off her shoulders, revealing her naked upper body.
"How about here?" He cupped her breasts with his hands.
"No." He attached his mouth to each one in turn.
"Here maybe?" He ran his hand over her flat stomach.
"No." He knelt once more and licked and nipped the sun-kissed skin that covered her firm, toned abdomen. He then pulled the dress from under her and dropped it beside him so she sat naked atop her desk, legs parted, making his erection strain almost painfully in his trousers. He looked up at her and she smiled expectantly.
"What about here?" He put his hand to the crest of hair that determined the centre of her passion. She cocked her head to one side.
"Termara ná ar véla." He leant forward and inserted his tongue to her core of pleasure. She gasped and groaned as many erotically appealing sensations coursed through her body, making every part of her tingle. They hadn't ever done this before, even after making love almost every night for the past four years. The thought had never occurred to either of them. She had orally stimulated him on many occasions but there had never been role reversal.
He stopped when he sensed she was on the brink, which gained him a whimper of loss from her.
"Would you have me go without?" he whispered. His reply was in the form of a fierce, demanding kiss, driven by sexual desire and need. Silva found it very strange tasting herself on him, but she did not ponder this thought for long. She peeled his shirt of him whilst he quickly rid of his belt. His trousers soon followed.
She pulled him to the bed, not ceasing their kiss. He gently pushed her back and then lay on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist again and he slid into her quickly in one smooth action.
As usual, she was catapulted into a whole new world where everything amounted to ecstasy. It was like her blood had turned to air and she was floating like the clouds. It went straight to her head like strong Elven wine and made her giddy with delight. Only Legolas could ever make her feel this elated. She could never see herself submitting to anyone else's desires. She would not want to.
He glided in and out of her rhythmically. When her hips began to buck upwards to match his thrusts, he felt the pressure of lust building up in his groin. His pace increased and she began writhing with passion.
Amongst his pleasure, Legolas found himself wondering how he survived 438 years without knowing the joys and wonders of making love to Silva. Having this epitome of perfection and beauty awaiting him every night was what got him through his days now. He could not imagine ever being away from now. They'd been through so much together, seen so many troubles and complications, it just seemed so ridiculous to think they could ever be split up now.
They came together and cried out each other's name, then collapsed in a heavy-breathing, damp, satisfied tangle of arms and legs. The contrast of golden blonde and medium brown hair lay like a shock on the white bed linen.
"Ai, manadh," she sighed. He slid out of her and lay by her side, wrapping an arm possessively round her waist. The couple fell into a peaceful slumber as the afternoon sun waned across the sky.
What they did not know was that Tarnen lay in the chamber next to theirs. He had not been taken to a guest chamber, as they thought, but merely to the nearest room. He awoke (wincing lightly from the pain of the large bruise on his cheek) at the beginnings of their lovemaking and listened with a mixture of pleasure, disappointment and anger. As there cries and groans grew more intense, he felt a strain in his trousers as Legolas had done when looking at her naked form. He hastily unbuttoned his trousers and started rubbing his own length to the sounds of their intercourse. (E/N: PERVERT!!)
Soon, he felt the warm liquid seeping over his hands as his body was wracked with spasms of orgasm. He reached for the small towel that lay by the bed and wiped himself on it, ridding all trace of any seed, except that which may have gone onto the sheets, but he'd be long gone before they found that.
"So, she refuses me," he muttered aloud as he tucked himself back in, "but then she goes and screws the pretty boy Prince. Well, she'll have to make sure I don't find her alone, else I'll silence that pretty little mouth once and for all." There was a knock at the door and it started to swing open. Tarnen lay down properly and half-lidded his eyes to make himself look tired. Anris entered the room.
"I have no sympathy for you," he growled, before Tarnen could say anything. "What the hell were you thinking?! You heard both of them say what would happen if anyone tried anything, plus the fact you'd aggravated the Prince anyway! Do you have a death wish, man?!"
"No. And anyway, she came on to me first. I simply took her lead."
"That's not what she's told Thranduil, and who do you think he is more likely to believe? He has cancelled the treaty and we are to leave now you are awake."
"Immediately?"
"Yes, immediately. Get you're belongings together. They don't want us here anymore, thanks to you. And when we return back home, do not think I'm going to spare you the humiliation when they ask why the Elves refused us help."
"But that will ruin my marriage! I've got kids!!"
"No, Tarnen, I won't ruin your marriage. You've done that yourself." Anris turned on his heel and left the room. Tarnen clenched his fist and thumped the bed angrily. If he could get at them before he left, well, they'd certainly better pray to the Valar that he didn't.
Can somebody PLEASE read Welcome to Ankh Morpork? I have had no reviews for it whatsoever! I'm going to take it off if I've had no reviews after another week. *sigh* It'll be my first failure. *sob*
Luvs Elfie xXxXx
Translations:
Meleth-nin = my love Termara ná ar véla = Try it and see Ai, manadh = ah, bliss
Chapter 33
Legolas felt terrible. He had let his anger get the better of him and in doing so he'd upset Silva. But he didn't even understand his own actions. Why had he been so harsh to her? None of it was her fault but he hadn't even shown concern when she told him Tarnen had harmed her.
"What the hell am I doing?" he asked himself. "I've been sitting in this library alone now for an hour. She's going to think I really do hate her again. Oh gods, why do I always manage to mess up everything good in my life?" He stood and left the library in search of his lover.
**
Silva sat at her dressing room table, her head resting on her hand, wincing with pain. Having changed out of the ruined dress and bathed to cleanse herself, one of her chambermaids was now bathing her cut to ensure it wasn't or wouldn't become infected. When she was finished, she pressed a small, soft pad to the cut to soak up whatever blood proceeded to flow.
"All done, ma'am," she said.
"Thank you," said Silva, distantly, staring out of the window. The maid hesitated for a moment.
"Are you alright, my lady?" she asked tentatively. Silva slowly turned her head to look at the maid.
"Yes, I'm fine," she said quietly.
"Would you have me fetch someone to keep you company, ma'am? King Thranduil, if he's free? Or Prince Legolas perhaps?" Silva's eyes flickered with sadness. The female Elf could tell she had struck a nerve.
"No, I am fine on my own, thank you," Silva replied after a pause. "Can you make sure I'm not disturbed this afternoon, please? I want to be alone." The maid nodded and curtseyed and made no sign physically or vocally that she was aware of the Prince's presence in the room.
Silva folded her arms on the table and rested her forehead on them. She sighed sadly and closed her eyes. 'What did I do? I'm the victim, why is he blaming me? Doesn't he believe me? Does he honestly think I would lie?' She forced the tears not to flow. 'I've done too much of that recently. Too often have I weakness.'
She sensed movement next to her. Her body tensed for fear of it being Tarnen. Her eyes opened and she raised her head slowly. She received a shock when she looked down to her left and saw Legolas kneeling next to her. She smiled slightly with confusion. He took her hand.
"Sweet Lady of Mirkwood, I come to beg your forgiveness," he said softly. "My words to you were unkind and stern. I had no thought for your distress. I was driven by anger, though that is no excuse. I am sorry. I will love you until the end of time. Will you accept my apology?" She watched him for a moment and then knelt next to him. She lifted a hand to his cheek and kissed him gently, then she pulled him into a loving embrace.
"There is nothing to forgive," she said. "You are here now, that is all that matters." They sat for a minute with their arms wrapped around each other and then they both stood. Silva leant against her dressing table whilst Legolas sat on the chair.
"What did he do to you, meleth-nin?" he asked.
"You don't need to know," she replied. "It will only anger you again."
"I promise you I will not anger." A smile graced his face. "I would have you tell me so I can kiss it better."
"There are some parts of me I would not have you kiss." She crossed her arms mock defiantly. He stood in front of her.
"But would you refuse if I offered?" He placed his hands on her hips and she sat on the table surface. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer.
"Maybe. Try me and see." His smirk widened.
"Would you say no if I kissed you here?" He held a finger to her lips.
"No." He kissed her and began unlacing the back of her dress. When he finished, he pulled away from her.
"What about here?" He indicated her neck.
"No." He nuzzled her neck.
"Here?" He pointed to her injury that showed in the wide neck of her dress.
"No." He pressed his lips to it and pushed the dress off her shoulders, revealing her naked upper body.
"How about here?" He cupped her breasts with his hands.
"No." He attached his mouth to each one in turn.
"Here maybe?" He ran his hand over her flat stomach.
"No." He knelt once more and licked and nipped the sun-kissed skin that covered her firm, toned abdomen. He then pulled the dress from under her and dropped it beside him so she sat naked atop her desk, legs parted, making his erection strain almost painfully in his trousers. He looked up at her and she smiled expectantly.
"What about here?" He put his hand to the crest of hair that determined the centre of her passion. She cocked her head to one side.
"Termara ná ar véla." He leant forward and inserted his tongue to her core of pleasure. She gasped and groaned as many erotically appealing sensations coursed through her body, making every part of her tingle. They hadn't ever done this before, even after making love almost every night for the past four years. The thought had never occurred to either of them. She had orally stimulated him on many occasions but there had never been role reversal.
He stopped when he sensed she was on the brink, which gained him a whimper of loss from her.
"Would you have me go without?" he whispered. His reply was in the form of a fierce, demanding kiss, driven by sexual desire and need. Silva found it very strange tasting herself on him, but she did not ponder this thought for long. She peeled his shirt of him whilst he quickly rid of his belt. His trousers soon followed.
She pulled him to the bed, not ceasing their kiss. He gently pushed her back and then lay on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist again and he slid into her quickly in one smooth action.
As usual, she was catapulted into a whole new world where everything amounted to ecstasy. It was like her blood had turned to air and she was floating like the clouds. It went straight to her head like strong Elven wine and made her giddy with delight. Only Legolas could ever make her feel this elated. She could never see herself submitting to anyone else's desires. She would not want to.
He glided in and out of her rhythmically. When her hips began to buck upwards to match his thrusts, he felt the pressure of lust building up in his groin. His pace increased and she began writhing with passion.
Amongst his pleasure, Legolas found himself wondering how he survived 438 years without knowing the joys and wonders of making love to Silva. Having this epitome of perfection and beauty awaiting him every night was what got him through his days now. He could not imagine ever being away from now. They'd been through so much together, seen so many troubles and complications, it just seemed so ridiculous to think they could ever be split up now.
They came together and cried out each other's name, then collapsed in a heavy-breathing, damp, satisfied tangle of arms and legs. The contrast of golden blonde and medium brown hair lay like a shock on the white bed linen.
"Ai, manadh," she sighed. He slid out of her and lay by her side, wrapping an arm possessively round her waist. The couple fell into a peaceful slumber as the afternoon sun waned across the sky.
What they did not know was that Tarnen lay in the chamber next to theirs. He had not been taken to a guest chamber, as they thought, but merely to the nearest room. He awoke (wincing lightly from the pain of the large bruise on his cheek) at the beginnings of their lovemaking and listened with a mixture of pleasure, disappointment and anger. As there cries and groans grew more intense, he felt a strain in his trousers as Legolas had done when looking at her naked form. He hastily unbuttoned his trousers and started rubbing his own length to the sounds of their intercourse. (E/N: PERVERT!!)
Soon, he felt the warm liquid seeping over his hands as his body was wracked with spasms of orgasm. He reached for the small towel that lay by the bed and wiped himself on it, ridding all trace of any seed, except that which may have gone onto the sheets, but he'd be long gone before they found that.
"So, she refuses me," he muttered aloud as he tucked himself back in, "but then she goes and screws the pretty boy Prince. Well, she'll have to make sure I don't find her alone, else I'll silence that pretty little mouth once and for all." There was a knock at the door and it started to swing open. Tarnen lay down properly and half-lidded his eyes to make himself look tired. Anris entered the room.
"I have no sympathy for you," he growled, before Tarnen could say anything. "What the hell were you thinking?! You heard both of them say what would happen if anyone tried anything, plus the fact you'd aggravated the Prince anyway! Do you have a death wish, man?!"
"No. And anyway, she came on to me first. I simply took her lead."
"That's not what she's told Thranduil, and who do you think he is more likely to believe? He has cancelled the treaty and we are to leave now you are awake."
"Immediately?"
"Yes, immediately. Get you're belongings together. They don't want us here anymore, thanks to you. And when we return back home, do not think I'm going to spare you the humiliation when they ask why the Elves refused us help."
"But that will ruin my marriage! I've got kids!!"
"No, Tarnen, I won't ruin your marriage. You've done that yourself." Anris turned on his heel and left the room. Tarnen clenched his fist and thumped the bed angrily. If he could get at them before he left, well, they'd certainly better pray to the Valar that he didn't.