Chapter Summary - Rawr...the wedding night. Written with the help of Mercury Gray.
Shout Outs:
Dread Lady Freya - You didn't think that I'd end the story without embarrassing Terreis just once more, did you?
Mercury Gray - Well, you helped me with pretty much all of them, love!
Roisin Dubh - Well, maybe not the entire honeymoon...but the wedding night works!
The married lovers finally escaped the feasting hall, and ran hand in hand to the honeymoon suite prepared for them. Glorfindel kissed her as soon as they were in the sitting room they shared.
"Be quick, love," he smiled. "I've plans for you."
Racing to the wife's bedchambers,Silmarien quickly removed her wedding veil and gown, wondering what devilish mirth her new husband was having. Hastily putting on her new silken nightshift, she let some of her hair down to imitate the Elven fashion as best she could.Excitedly, shecrossed the sitting room and stopped just before his door. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she knocked.
"Enter," his voice filtered through the wooden door. She could tell he was exerting some forced patience by its quietness. Tentatively, she opened the door, unsure as to what she would find – something new and different to be sure.
He stood near the balcony, the moonlight casting its silver glow over his bare torso. He stood merely in his trousers, his hair pulled back, for the ornamental braids had not been sufficient for his purpose. The silver coronet he had worn was put away, as well as his ceremonial boots, so that he stood barefoot. As Silmarien gazed upon him, she could not help but think she had married one of the Ainur. She marveled at his strength as he studied the moon. Coming closer to him, her hand shyly reached out to touch his well muscled back. The tautness of the skin that stretched over his shoulder blades seemed too fine to be real. The strength of his shoulders made her weak with trembling want. Would he be an impassioned lover who would hold her in his unyielding arms, never to let go as he ravaged her? She shivered unconciouslyat the thought.
"You are so strong, meleth nin," Silmarien whispered to her new husband, tracing the contours of his muscles.
His back straightened more, if that could be possible, as her finger slid from his shoulder to the small of his back. Glorfindel closed his eyes, savoring her touch, shy and gentle though it was. He wondered if she could be as on fire for him as he was for her. He knew she had passion – he had seen it as she fought fiercely for the sake of her cousin's happiness. He wanted to see how hungry she was, and he wanted to fill her to the satisfaction of her desire.
"Is it not warm to you this night, my love," Glorfindel murmured, his voice like silk that wrapped about her senses, stealing them away.
He turned to her, smiling softly. She came closer to him and drew her arms around his abdomen in an embrace.
"So very warm," she purred in reply, her lips grazing his chest.
"Meleth nin," he whispered, feigning deep thought. "Do you trust me?"
"You know I do," Silmarien smiled, her lips pressed against his sternum. It set his blood boiling, and he had to make a conscious effort to keep from tearing off the thin nightdress she wore that taunted him.
"Let us play a game then. I wish to see how well we trust each other."
"What game?" she asked, lifting her head. His body screamed for the contact of her lips again, but his face was a mask of calm.
"Blind man's bluff," Glorfindel smiled, holding up a silken handkerchief he had folded into a blindfold.
"You jest with me," she laughed. "I've not played this for many years!"
"I assure you, it shall have variations that children should not play," the Elf smirked as he tied the knot securely. "No cheating. Now, follow me."
Without a sound, he made his way to the bed, drawing away the sheer curtain around it. He turned to see why she was not behind him. Silmarien stood where he had left her, her head tilted as she adjusted to her loss of sight, learning the sounds of their room.
This was unlike anything she had ever heard of from her women friends. Rhoswen had snickered when asked about her own wedding night, and refused to speak of the passion of Boromir. But somehow, Silmarien had the feeling that her brother's manner could never compare to her husband's.
"Glorfindel," she whined, imitating a small child. "You've the unfair advantage of elven tread. I cannot hear you when you walk."
"You know the feel of my presence," he replied, smiling. "Follow it."
Hesitantly, she came toward him, lifting her hand to feel the air in front of her. When she felt the bare flesh of his pectorals, she drew her fingers away in surprise. Her breathing became uneven, and he knew she wasn't expecting him to be so close. Suddenly she smiled.
"I've found you," she laughed. Oh, how that laugh drove him to madness.
She reached up to take the blindfold off, but his soft touch stopped her. "Leave it," Glorfindel said, his voice growing husky withmounting desire for her touch.
"Lay down on the bed," he commanded softly. Like a child groping in the dark, Silmarien felt her way to the bed, crawling on it until she laid her head upon the pillows, waiting for him.
How vulnerable she was, laying on his bed. Glorfindel took a moment to savor the beauty that was his wife. He vowed she would never regret her decision to marry him. Imperceptibly, his weight settled on the bed next to her. Silmarien felt his hands at her ankles, slowly drawing up her nightgown. Involuntarily, she drew her limbs away from him shyly. He stopped.
"Do you trust me," he asked again. He watched her relax.
"Yes," she answered softly. She had no control over the situation, could not offer retaliation. Could not see him coming. He smiled as he drew off her gown tossing it to the floor.
"Silmarien, you are lovely," he breathed as he admired the beautiful nakedness of his wife. He leaned forward after his silent worship of her body, gently placing his hands on either side of her head, supporting his weight. His lips grazed her cheek as he spoke.
"You've said that my touch makes you yearn for me," he murmured.
"Yes," Silmarien sighed, her hand reaching for him and caressing his shoulder. He could feel her tremble in anticipation. His lips curled in a roguish grin.
"I will show you that I can make you yearn for me without the use of my hands."
Mari drew in a shaky breath. What would he do? She whimpered nervously, her body tense as he began to caress her skin with his long nose, the warm breath of his nostrils setting her skin to a rosy blush. Silmarien's mind spun out of control. His hands, she could feel them on either side of her head, but oh, his caress was heavenly. His breath was hot, like a dragon's slow burn.
"Oh, glory," she breathed when he nuzzled the vale of her breasts. She moaned louder when he reached her naval and deliberately exhaled upon it. Her blood felt like fire in her veins and she could almost feel a pounding in her temples as he paused there, kissing her naval, licking it, his tongue dancing over the flat plane of her stomach.
"Drauglor," Silmarien hissed, massaging his scalp, her fingers feeling the silk that was his gold hair. He abruptly ceased his caressing of her skin, lifting his head and licking his dried lips.
"What did you call me?" he asked, his voice impossibly low with dangerous passion. She felt him slide up her body agonizingly slow, but she smiled devilishly. She knew it had pleased him, else he would not make her say it again. His breath was hot on her cheek.
"Drauglor," Silmarien drew out the Sindarin syllables in a moan as he suckled at her collarbone.
"So, I am a golden wolf, eh?" Glorfindel murmured wickedly.
"Yes," she hissed in reply, delighting in the burning sensation she was getting from his lips as well as his hands, which were caressing her breasts, tickling down to her thighs. Oh, she couldn't take it anymore.
"Pray, grant me my sight, lord," she begged softly.
"I grant it, good lady," Glorfindel replied, removing the blindfold from her eyes. He untied the knot and placed the handkerchief over his own eyes, smiling as he retied it.
"Come, now you cannot see. What poor sport this is, that we cannot enjoy each other's most silent reactions, love!"
"Nay, I endeavor to show thee another thing of me," he grinned. "I have seen your naked form and though I've only seen it a short while, I have learned the soft curves, the fair slenderness. I shall now please you without the use of mine eyes."
Silmarien could not help but think that his smile was villainous, as he reached for her again. He sought out her lips without guidance and began to plunder her mouth more fiercely than she had ever been victim to. Whimpering for more, Silmarien returned it with much fervor, for his teasing had forced out her mounting desire for him.
"Glorfindel," she moaned as he squeezed the round softness of her buttocks.
"Ah, what happened to Drauglor?"
"Ai, if you continue, it shall be your name all night, and every night hereafter!"
With a nefarious laugh of victory, Glorfindel arched his back as he slid down her body, moving with the slow grace of a cat. His muscles flexed as he unbuckled his trousers, letting them slide to his ankles, kicking them away. He heard his bride's sharp intake of breath, and he knew she was staring at the largeness of his naked form.
"Take me, I am yours, Duveniel," he murmured, holding up his arms in supplication. "Do with me as you will."
"What a lovely plaything I have," she laughed, letting her hand slide across his chest as she came closer, moving behind him. "I wonder if he shall bear the worst of my play, or shall he break and force me to cry?"
"I am hale as ever, lady," he smiled. "Even the roughest owner cannot break me."
"Good," she replied, letting her teeth gently sink into his shoulder. "I've ruined many things in my games."
Her hand had slid lower, a little past his naval. Glorfindel's belly throbbed in anticipation of her touch at his needy member. But she went no further. Instead, he felt her lips upon the tip of his pointed ear. Sighing loudly, he threw his head back.
"Aha, so my elf does have a weakness," Mari moaned into his ear. "I shall use this often."
Leaning him backward, she continued to suckle his ear, slowly laving it with her tongue. His hips bucked in time to her slow ministrations, his hands grasping at the bed sheets as he gasped for succor. As she continued to lick his poor ears, his erection hardened further until he could stand it no more.
"Mercy," he hissed, "mercy upon me!"
"He cries for mercy, my poor husband. But at least he knows that each of his taunts shall be returned tenfold."
With a last lick, she pulled away, taking the blindfold with her, tossing it over her shoulder. His eyes were shamefully dark as he plead for his wife with but a motion of his hands. When she returned to him, he held her tightly and rolled over on the bed so that she was beneath him. The movement was so quick it made her gasp. He would not let her get away so easily, by the wild light in his eyes.
"You've unleashed the wolf, love," he murmured. "There is now no escape."
With that, Glorfindel plundered her mouth with the hunger of a prowling animal. He pressed his hardened length against her, forcing her to realize that she did indeed affect him, and that he needed her badly. The urgency of his kiss diminished, little by little until at last he pulled away and looked down upon his wife.
"You will feel pain," he murmured, taking her hands in his, lacing his fingers with hers. Glorfindel encouraged his beloved to squeeze as hard as she liked, as long as she felt the discomfort. Silmarien nodded slowly and braced herself. When he finally entered her, he covered her lips with his, swallowing her cries so that she would not feel embarrassed if anyone else heard them.
But then, everything faded, and Silmarien felt it. Her body untensed, her hold on Glorfindel's hands loosening. He shifted his weight and Silmarien gasped.
"Glorfindel!" she hissed. Her husband laughed and thrust in her again, watching her roll her head back into the bed's mattress, lengthening the column of her beautiful white neck.
Glorfindel's rhythm suited her, and soon Mari was rolling her hips and delighting in his own moans and sighs. Into the early morning, they made love with wild abandon, as only mad lovers can. And when the sun rose, she shone upon the couple, asleep in each other's arms. So they would greet the day, for the rest of their lives, in unity together to the start of the day and at the very end.
Translations:
Meleth nin - my love
The End...no, really!