Title: Twists of Fate - Part 1/?
Author: Tumnaloth (aka dwalfling)
Email address: tumnaloth@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13 I guess
Pairing: Silinde/Elrond
Summary: Silinde, one of Legolas' companions to Rivendell, attempts 
suicide in his wild desperation. Elrond heals him both inside and outside, 
giving him something to cherish.
Disclaimer: No, I REALLY don't own them...unfortunately! Elrond is the 
graven image of all things elven, and I just wanted to give my own version 
of Silinde, an explanation to why he looks like he does in the movie when 
he appears at the Council. This is fic, and my first fic. No, I do not get paid 
for this!
Authors notes: This is a movie-based fic since I didn’t own the books yet 
when I wrote this, so if it seems incoherent let me know. Silinde is the elf 
who sits on the left side of Legolas at the Council of Elrond. I didn't invent 
him, the filming personnel did. Go see for yourselves! I would like to thank 
my loyal and fantastic betas Darkie and Empy, who honed my modest 
grammar and plot (and there was much honing indeed).

*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


Silinde couldn't have been more bored. He had arrived with Legolas, Prince 
of Mirkwood, to the summons of the Lord Elrond Peredhel, who had 
announced a council of some kind. Silinde assumed it would be another 
discuss-politics-worry-about-useless-problems-and-haggle-for-goods 
event, so when it dawned upon him how serious the matter at hand was 
and what was to be done with it, he felt dazed. The Fellowship was 
formed, after the fragile hobbit called Frodo something had volunteered to 
be the Ringbearer while others argued. Silinde himself was using Gimli's 
rude remark as an excuse to get some amusement out of the argue, when 
the hobbit unexpectedly spoke up. Suddenly the future heroes were picked 
and he was left sitting there like a leaf in a winter storm, with nothing to 
grasp but solemn dissappointment. The Fellowship would face dangers 
unknown, adventure indescribable and wonderful, perils and perhaps even 
death, while his life would remain the dull routine it had been in Mirkwood, 
with King Thranduil's people. How he envied Legolas. 

The expression on his face was simultaneously puzzled and pouty, his lips 
parted in a slight circle and his brow almost indistinguishably knitted. His 
hands were clutching the handles of the chair, and he instinctively kept his 
back straight and his head regally high. HE was not a prince, though, but 
an ordinary elf, of no importance or significance. Nobody would suggest 
him joining the fortunate ones. 

Waves of bitterness swelled up inside his heart when the Council was 
finally dismissed and the preparations for the company's travel began. The 
whole of Rivendell appeared to fuss to and fro with bundles and rations, 
while he tried to get out of the way. He had ample time to brood and pout, 
before the envy forced him to sneak away along the beautiful hallways and 
balconies. It was on one of them that he felt something inside him snap: life 
lost its meaning in but a second, as the bitterness overwhelmed him with 
lust to revenge, to rebel, to do ANYTHING. 

His light features set into a grimace, he gripped the railing with his hands 
and set his foot upon it, pulling himself up onto it with an agile motion. For 
a moment he just stood there, long strands of blond hair fluttering in a 
breeze, slender but muscular body tightened and straight, eyes seeing 
nothing but his own uselessness and humiliation. Silinde took an angry 
breath and jumped off the balcony, diving through the air...to fall into a 
tree, painfully scratched and slapped by the branches and then sliding down 
with a loud thud. Everything he could realize was deep, pulsating and 
piercing pain, his eyes blurring from the intensity of it as he lost 
consciousness.

There was no way of figuring how long it was since he passed out, but the 
first thing his slowly opening eyes caught was a far too bright daylight. He 
was lying down upon his back in a large, luxurious bed, with his right arm 
and stomach wrapped tight with bandages that he could feel with his 
attempt to move. When he tried to sit up, he still got a ripple of pain up his 
stiff-feeling arm, so it must have been broken. Also his abdomen and left 
side hurt, which made him lie back down and observe his surroundings as 
much as he was able to from that angle. The room was spacious, beautiful 
and intricately ornamented. Silinde decided right away that he was still in 
Rivendell, where he had jumped...yes, know he clearly remembered the 
happenings. 

Near the bed, with curtains that could be pulled down to envelope the bed, 
was a table with some usual objects of healing: straps of clean cloth, herbs 
and a mortar for making salves etc. On the right side he could see the door 
and right across the room a row of high, delicately formed windows 
opening into the serene mountain-view he had aquainted himself with. The 
door turned on its hinges as he looked around him, to let in a robed, 
majestetic and tall figure. It was Lord Elrond himself, coming to see him. 
Silinde was dazzled by the looks of this graceful and noble elflord, feeling 
nervous and blushing about the situation he was in. 

"How fares our guest? You had luck, my friend, falling from that hight 
would have been fatal, if it were not for the tree that slowed you." spoke 
the Peredhel. 

Silinde had to swallow and breathe in deep before he could muster enough 
courage to say that he was still hurting and uncomfortable because of the 
bandages, but otherwise feeling as good as ever. 

The older elf seemed not to believe him completely, raising an eyebrow: "I 
am amazed by such an act, I must say, of jumping off a balcony like that. I 
would be able to understand it if there was an obvious reason, but in your 
case I do not notice one...as you seem to be in no dire straits." 

At this the Mirkwood elf could find nothing to reply without losing his 
face, so he just stared at the cover pulled over him, awkward and 
embarrassed. Elrond noticed this and questioned him no more, turning the 
conversation to his injuries. 

"Your arm has a nasty fracture and your ribs have suffered some damage, 
but otherwise you have only got bruises and scratches. You should be able 
to walk soon enough, but for the moment I advice you move as little as 
possible. I will see to your arm personally so that it will be healed." stated 
Lord Elrond, checking his bandages and seeing to a couple of small 
abrasions. 

Silinde thanked him, drunk the herbal potion that he was given and soon 
went back to sleep. 

His dreams were filled with haunting images of the Nine, and himself 
chasing them, to see them always slip out of reach as if they were wisps of 
morning mist, evaporating whenever he came close. They all taunted him 
and laughed him to scorn, even the smallest hobbits. Silinde moaned and 
sobbed in his sleep, wringing his head sideways with his hands clutched 
into fists and his body dampened by cold sweat. This nightmare was the 
worst he could have imagined and beyond. Just as it was about to return on 
him, Silinde was wakened by gently shaking hands. 

"Young one, hush: It is just a dream, you are all right and safe." a familiar 
voice calmed. Silinde opened his eyes with haste, to see the night-clad form 
of Elrond beside him, leaning towards him and holding his hand soothingly. 

"I... I was... forgive me... it seems I was caught up in a nightmare that 
would not cease...I apologize for the noise and trouble." Silinde's words 
came out in but a loud whisper. The elflord lessened his frown for a 
reassuring smile to take place upon his features. 

"It is nothing, Silinde, nothing to apologize for. We have all had nightmares 
and you don't need to take the guilt of seeing one. You did not invite it and 
therefore have nothing to be sorry of." spoke Lord Elrond with his deep 
eyes gazing into Silinde's. 

The blond elf let his head fall back onto the pillow and his limbs relax, his 
left hand still clasped by the others'. A warm, pleasant glow seemed to 
spread from the Peredhel's hands, as he closed his eyes and chanted in soft, 
melodic Elvish. In a few moments the glow had slithered from head to toe, 
in comforting ripples, causing his right arm and left side to tingle. Silinde 
could almost feel the damage heal slowly in the warmth, every tinge of pain 
suppressed by the healing magic. With pure amazement he raised his gaze 
to the exoticly lovely features of the Master of Imladris. As Lord Elrond 
opened his eyes haltingly, still chanting and weaving the last touches of the 
spell,  their eyes locked together for what seemed to Silinde an eternity. 

Everything was wiped away from his tormented mind: all the bitterness, 
envy, anger, humiliation and worthlessness fading to echoes somewhere 
far, to be replaced by a flicker of a deeper, richer emotion...he was 
enraptured by those wise, deep eyes and every shadedly fair feature. An 
instinct made him long to touch the soft skin of the cheek and the curve of 
the lips, but as his left hand was still within Elrond's and his right in 
bandages, he could not do so. Silinde thanked the Valar for that, in fear of 
wreaking even greater havoc with his urge than he had with his rash leap. 
And yet, the exciting sensations within him would not be dismissed, as he 
saw the eyes of the elflord darken into unreadable and veiled expression 
that flushed the Mirkwood youth with inner heat. 

"I will leave you to sleep now. The dream should not return to torture you 
again this time...and your hand and ribs will be better tomorrow. You are 
safe in my home..." murmured Elrond, voice low and velvety. He released 
Silinde's hand, stood up pulling his night-cloak closer around his sinewy 
body and turned to step quietly through the door, closing it behind him. 
Silinde closed his eyes to bring back the feel of Elrond's hands, lulling 
himself into slumber and finally to deep, refreshing sleep.

The next morning he woke up and was able to sit up, the muscles of his 
abdomen almost fully recovered, thanks to the nightly magic. When he 
carefully rose from the bed, his bare upper body shivered in the cool 
morning air. He had his leggings still on, but his tunic had been required to 
take off to take care of the injuries, so he was half-clad. On a small bench 
that he had not been able to see while lying down lay a cape of warm 
material, which he pulled around his shoulders with his good arm. The cold 
bothered him no more, so he was free to explore his surroundings. Silinde 
walked to the door, opened it and glanced left and right along a corridor 
without windows, but lit with a few torches attached to the wall. The 
torches were not burning wood, though, but enchanted minerals and gems 
set in a metal frame that cast an eerie light, in different colours. The 
Mirkwood youth chose to tread left, up the corridor and then through the 
dark, heavy door at the end. He ended up in a large room covered with 
books, tomes, scrolls and parchments of every size and shape, many in 
languages he did not understand. It was the library that contained the elven 
lore Lord Elrond had collected during his long lifetime, a haven of 
knowledge for those who seek it. There was a stone bench against one wall 
with high stained-chrystal windows set near the roof, and Silinde sat down 
with silent awe. Never in his life had he seen so much written text.

From between the shelves sounded an amused voice: "I see my library has 
amazed you, young one. Is there something you seek here or have you 
merely followed your feet through the door?" 

Silinde started, recognizing the voice of the Master of the city. "Uh, I, em, 
just happened to choose this door out of curiousity. I had no notion of 
where it would lead, and yes, I find the amount of knowledge almost 
intoxicating." stammered Silinde, feeling a blush creep down to his neck. 

The elf master laughed dignantly, stepping from the depths of the row of 
shelves with an airy gait that made Silinde feel clumsy. Elrond looked so 
regal, so mighty, so beautiful...and he could not give in to what now welled 
up inside him, the taste of the forbidden fruit lingering in his mouth like a 
siren song. The elder elf's wry smile was baffling, the glint of the grey eyes 
like a beacon of guiding light in the darkness. Silinde could feel his self 
control crumble to dust as Elrond approached him, book in hands and 
robes of brown and gold moving in harmony with his lean frame. Lord 
Elrond showed Silinde the book he was holding, with grey-blue covers and 
thin, worn parchment-like paper pages. When Silinde threw a questioning 
glance at it, Elrond replied: 

"It is a tome about Tirion...the white city. Are you familiar with it?" 

"Yes...I think I've heard at least some stories about it. Wasn't it the first 
city of the Noldor and Vanyar, in the Undying Lands?" said Silinde firmly, 
glad to have the knowledge that he could possibly impress the Lord of 
Imladris with. 

"You know well, young one. It is so, and it was also there that was planted 
the sacred White Tree of the Eldar, Galathilion." mused Lord Elrond, eyes 
glowing the shimmer of excitement of this piece of history to the Laiquendi 
youth, who felt suddenly breathless from the way the elflord basked Silinde 
in the light of his favor. 

Silinde was fighting hard to keep from swaying towards Elrond, his heart 
singing with a flood of song that had never experienced before, with 
longing and desire and...love, but it was impossible, Silinde reminded 
himself. The Peredhil probed him with subtle questions of his background 
and past. Silinde soon found himself telling Master Elrond things like his 
growing up in the constant shadow of Thranduil's son, the Prince of 
Mirkwood, and how he had always been the inferior in everything, never 
being granted anything that could not be endowed upon Legolas. This was 
the root of his malady, the very core of what had driven him to jump of the 
balcony in blind desperation. Elrond perceived this, and made right 
assumptions from what the young elf told him. The healer wanted to use 
whatever way possible to relieve such torment, and to bring him peace and 
serenity that the young adult so needed. His face was the very echo of 
Mirkwood-elven fairness, close to pefection in its fragile beauty, and the 
boy had grown to a slender, fit and atractive frame only a little shorter than 
Elrond himself, and enthralling in the lack of gracious fluency that the 
bitterness had denied the youth. It was intriguing how much charm he 
possessed, but of which he was partially unaware and uncertain. Lord 
Elrond thought he saw a means by which to heal the chaos inside and 
quickly made his decision. He had already sensed something more than 
respect or admiration in the mien of Silinde, and that was what he would 
use for the purpose of his inner healing. 

Silinde watched Master Elrond put away the book upon another shelf 
nearby, turning to face the younger elf and scorching him with those grey 
flames of his eyes. Elrond reached out to place his hand lightly on Silinde's 
shoulder, gathering all the allure he could muster, and spoke softly to 
Silinde: 

"I can see you have been weighed down all your life, young one, for it is 
not unknown to me as well. I too have felt the burdens press my back 
downwards and feared I migth be broken under the weight. I feel for you 
deeply, and I am sorry for the underestimation you have been subjected 
to...if there is any aid I can give you, I am willing to give it..." 

These words were not what Silinde expected to hear, on the contrary: more 
like what he would have dreamed to hear the noble lord to say to him, in 
the exact unawarely seductive tone. He could not hold back anymore, but 
his will gave up and he leaned forward towards Elrond, to let his fingers 
brush the silk of the dark brown hair with a longing breath escaping his 
lips. Elrond did not pull back or even start, as Silinde had feared, but pulled 
the youth closer to him while bending a bit to sweep his lips over Silinde's. 
The sensation was almost too much for the Mirkwood elf, who shivered 
with the electric fizzle that spread from the touch of the older elf's lips and 
penetrated him, causing him to answer fiercely to the kiss. They stood 
there, embracing tightly, hands haltingly carressing and tongues dancing 
together in a rapid, ancient rhythm. Silinde was close to fainting from the 
strength of his feelings and the response of the Lord of Rivendell.

Suddenly Silinde broke the kiss and pulled himself out of the embrace, 
reddened and confused, avoiding the gaze of Elrond while swiftly stepping 
to the door and then to the corridor again. Elrond stood still, a smile spread 
across his face and his doubts proven true. The young one was beginning 
to love and covet him, and this would be for his own good in the end. At 
the same time Silinde, back in his room, lay on the bed giddy and awkward 
now more than ever with his thoughts entwined into a tangle and his heart 
still fluttering withing his breast. When he had witnessed the first signs of 
his erection building up and the lust to bed Master Elrond, he knew it was 
going too far. It was not pure lust, physical covet: he was falling in love. 
He COULD NOT love the elflord, there was no way he could allow 
himself to feel so. Yet, who was he to command his heart, when it occured 
to him how he hadn't spared a single thought to the past events that had 
lead to the suicide attempt. He was getting over it because of his love and 
desire for the ruler of this haven of lore. Maybe it was not so condemnable 
after all, but right now he couldn't decided. Silinde decided to take his time 
and consider thoroughly how to react and what to do about his emotions. 
He couldn't help, however, his amazement of Elrond's responsive behaviour 
and if he too experienced the same that Silinde did. These were the 
questions in his mind as he took of his clothes and slid between the sheets 
to sleep on it.






Title: Recuperation - Part 2/?
Author: Tumnaloth (aka dwalfling)
Email address: tumnaloth@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Silinde/Elrond
Summary: The healing of Silinde is carried on, with love and desire winning 
doubt and fear. Silinde gets a new thirst for life and boosting for his self-
confidence from Elrond.
Disclaimer: I sorrowfully inform that they are still not mine to have and to 
hold...or whatever...and I don't get paid for writing this. Honestly, who 
*would* pay me? The Pervy Elf Fanciers Anonymous?? *grin* This is 
mostly movie-based stuff. If you don't know who Silinde is, see the 
previous fic, Twists of Fate.
Author's notes:  I am such a squid...it wasn't me, blame it on the horde of 
plot bunnies that bounced at me from the Spawning Pit (Darkie's 
appartment, go hobbits..) and gnawed up my resistance in seconds. I 
already told you I adore (mild expression) Elrond Peredhel, and Silinde is 
another pretty boy in the long line of many with nothing but an invented 
name and a cute face...so why not? Slash happens. Thank you already my 
noble betas, Darkie and Empy (Scary Elf Lady). Am grateful for your 
support and criticism. I also thank my plot bunnies Bunnywise and 
Slashadette.

*	*	*	*	*	*


The following days the scene in the library haunted Silinde relentlessly, but 
not as the nightmare that had, by now, ceased to enter his dreams. The pull 
that emanated from Elrond was like a carefully set bait, irresistible but fatal. 
Silinde was afraid of his low status compared to Elrond's supremacy, of the 
inappropriateness of his feelings (at least from his point of view), and the 
consequences of his possible actions. He did not wish to take the initiative 
because of his lack of experience either. It was not that Lord Elrond would 
have been just a prize to claim, but much more: a lover and a beloved. 
Mighty as he was, there was probably nothing that Elrond wouldn't know 
better than Silinde, who had little experience other than of being taken, 
without any affection or care. Of course, Prince Legolas had, in a fancy of 
novelty, got his desire from him, but Thranduil's son always got what he 
wanted without much trouble anyway. Being used and abandoned 
afterwards had marred Silinde deeply: more deeply than he had 
acknowledged himself. He was having difficulties trusting the goodness of 
Elrond, though it seemed to be visible and plain. Silinde's mind was a battle 
frontier of conflicting persuasions.

Master Elrond had continued to exercise his healing magic on Silinde's 
injuries, and the fracture in his arm was now gone, along with the pain. 
Silinde was able to move about without the bandages to inhibit him, which 
profited him with being able to take walks all around Rivendell. Silinde was 
seldom alone, someone always beside him to keep him company and to 
turn his mind to safer paths of thought. He did not avoid Lord Elrond, but 
rather had conversations with the half-elf every now and then, giving 
Elrond more and more detail of his inner state without acknowledging it 
himself. Elrond was quite aware of what would be required in order to heal 
Silinde inside, but was waiting for the younger one to feel more at ease and 
comfortable with him. They dined together with others,  took long walks in 
the the beautiful gardens and inside the Last Homely House (Rivendell), 
laughed and joked, pondered and discovered wonders of knowledge and 
lore in the library...to Elrond these were not merely the steps of the familiar 
dance of seduction, but what he knew well: procedures of healing. He did 
feel tempted by Silinde, that he could not deny, and it had been a while 
since he had reached the completion of his pleasure with anyone new, so 
desire was not the agenda only on Silinde's behalf.

Meanwhile, Silinde of Mirkwood was beginning to cope with the position 
he had been unwillingly placed in. His mind was getting some rest as was 
his quickly-recuperating physical being, and the grasp that desperation and 
bitterness had had of him was easing with almost improbable speed. Much 
of this was due to Elrond's care, he had to admit, which had not helped him 
to shake off the emotional charge that the elder's presence always 
generated in him. There were moments when the attraction became like the 
scent of intoxicating incense: a brush of fingers over a hand, a lengthened 
gaze, a slight change of voice...these seemed to Silinde trecherous 
stepstones over a deep ravine, while placing his foot anywhere else was a 
sure drop to certain death. 

One evening they were reading together in the library again, among the 
beautiful shelves of lore, sitting side by side on the familiar bench and 
leaning over a parchment to see it more clearly, it being written in small 
letters. Elrond was listening to him read it aloud, correcting 
mispronunciations, yet without hurting Silinde's pride or degrading him. 
The soft, mellow evening light played on Silinde's hair and even features, 
casting shadows and giving his face a glow of gold. Elrond was 
mesmerized by the flickering of the rays of the sun and stopped 
concentrating at the poem Silinde recited, to rest his eyes on the sight of 
the young elf so close to him, bent over the book . Silinde soon noticed 
that the comments ceased. He straightened his back and turned his eyes to 
Elrond to inquire the reason for the halt in instruction. Silinde was caught 
in the fondness of those eyes, unable to look away or speak, warm chills 
running down his spine. Nobody had ever looked at him that way, tenderly 
and appreciatingly. He was used to lustful or coolly probing stares and bold 
approaches.

Elrond sensed the dazzlement of the Mirkwood youth. He leaned towards 
him and traced the path of a ray of light down his cheek with a fingertip. 
Silinde's response was the widening of his eyes at the ticklish touch, as he 
was pulled towards the elflord like a moth to a candle flame. A breeze 
breathed in through an open window, fluttering a few papers and shifting 
their hair as they joined their lips in a kiss that started carefully and grew in 
strength, tongues touching and moving in a quickening pace. Silinde 
thought he could see sparks behind his closed eyelids when Elrond moved 
closer to him, awakening his nerves through the fabric of the light robes 
Silinde was wearing. The youth shivered and writhed a little every time 
those searching fingers found a sensitive spot in his figure, answering by 
letting his own hands roam over Master Elrond. Just as Silinde thought he 
could not wait any longer for breath, the other elf pulled slightly back to 
look into Silinde's eyes, catching his breath to speak.

"Silinde...pen-neth...you know what will happen if this continues...and I do 
not want to force you into anything you shall not do willingly...lest you say 
I have ravaged you.." Elrond breathed, his voice husky and breathless from 
the long kiss, eyes glinting like frosty water.

Silinde was amazed by the caring Elrond was showing him, and he allowed 
his emotions to flicker openly from puzzledness to love and desire in his 
eyes and face as he answered: "Master Elrond...I would not take you for a 
fool and think that you are not aware of what I feel. I...I love you...so if I 
yield myself, it will be voluntarily...and you know I want this with all of 
me." Silinde was shocked to hear himself blurt out these words, realizing 
he stood behind them whole-heartedly.

Elrond saw the perfect moment was at hand. He claimed Silinde's lips again 
in a kiss and allowed his hands rove more boldly and skillfully, bringing 
quiet moans from Silinde's throat. The young elf was clasping Elrond as if 
trying to dissolve into him, a leg thrown over Elrond's. Both of them felt 
the fire in their loins as their awakening erections were pressed in between 
the slender bodies. Elrond's breathing was quick as he broke a fierce kiss to 
whisper to Silinde:

"Not here...not a good place..."

Elrond pulled Silinde up from the bench, not willing to let go of the young 
one as he maneuvered them out of the door and into the hallway. Their 
steps dragging and nearly stumbling, they made it to Silinde's chamber. 
Once inside, Silinde began to tug off Elrond's robes, taking off the mithril 
tiara carefully and placing it on the table near the bed. Elrond himself was 
busy unfastening Silinde's robes, his tongue flicking irresistably the pointed 
tip of the youth's sensitive ear. Silinde gasped as Elrond followed with his 
tongue the curve of his neck down to the now beared shoulder and chest. 
With haste, he stepped back to slide his robes down so that they pooled 
onto the floor around his feet, as he then stepped out of them to help 
Elrond out of his clothing. 

"Pen-iaur...you are as enthralling as the moonbeams..." came the words 
unbidden from Silinde's mouth, that was soon covered by hungry claims of 
Elrond's. 

Hands thrown around the lean back and buried into the dark, long strands 
of Master Elrond's hair, Silinde retreated a few steps to pull the elflord 
down on the bed, on top of him. Teasing fingers slid down Silinde's chest, 
rubbing his nipples and then travelling down to stroke his stomach. A rapt 
moan cut the air as smooth fingers were clasped around the youth's 
erection, goading his hips into a reflexive buck. A few circling motions 
along Silinde's shaft made Silinde throw his head back and breathe 
raggedly, squirming and trembling. Then the hand was gone, feeling his 
inner thigh and hip. Silinde made a soft sound of protest.

"Not so fast, pen-neth, there is no rush..." Elrond teased into his ear, 
finding the young one's weak spots with his tongue. 

Silinde brought his own hands to Elrond's chest and abdomen, eager to pay 
the older elf the same attentions that he had received. The Mirkwood elf 
was pleased to feel Elrond shuddering sligthly as Silinde searched for the 
most sensitive areas with shy fingers and mouth. The throbbing erection of 
the elflord was pressed against Silinde's thigh, and his own responded by 
pulsating with pleasure between them. Suddenly Elrond slid downwards, 
dragging himself unhurriedly down Silinde's body, stopping to take a nipple 
into his mouth and suck it until it hardened. Silinde breathed in deep with 
surprise. Teasing nips, sliding touches of skin and licks followed as Elrond 
moved lower, imprisoning Silinde's hands and pressing them against the 
soft covers on the bed. Limbs splayed, Silinde could only watch the older 
elf make his way towards the Mirkwood youth's need, pressing his tongue-
tip feather-lightly against the tip of Silinde's shaft. A rapt mewl escaped his 
lips and he spasmed when Elrond took him into his mouth, enveloping 
Silinde with warm moisture.

"Saes...yonta..." whimpered Silinde.

The youth could almost feel Elrond smiling while he continued to slide his 
mouth and tongue along the shaft, taking him in deeper only to pull slowly 
back, sending thrill after thrill through Silinde. A gentle hand cupped 
Silinde's balls lightly, stroking and fondling. Suddenly the elflord started 
humming as he worked on the young one's member, and Silinde didn't have 
to hear the words to recognize the song. Elrond was humming "Elbereth 
Gilthoniel", adding an unbearably good sensation to the pleasure.  Silinde 
dug his heels into the mattress, unable to control himself from thrashing 
mildly, his hips pumping instinctively, accompanied by his muffled cries of 
pleasure. He tried to warn Elrond, to tell him he was going to come if 
Elrond continued, but the elflord only increased his efforts. Silinde cried 
out and released his seed in a convulsion, feeling his mind explode with the 
intensity of his orgasm. Elrond felt the warm fluid wash down his throat, a 
pleasantly sweet aftertaste lingering on his tongue. Silinde sank limply onto 
the bed, still clutching Elrond's hands with his own, heart throbbing and 
body limp. Loud breathing and panting filled the air.

After a few moments of recovery, Silinde noticed that although he had 
reached his peak, Elrond was in need of release. Silinde could not fathom 
that the older elf had so amazingly satisfied him without claiming his 
pleasure right away. The Mirkwood elf raised himself to kiss Elrond, trying 
to tell him how much he appreciated the care and tenderness, and how 
Silinde wanted to return his favor:

"Pen-iaur...Elrond, meleth-nin, you may have your pleasure as well, 
please...I will do what you desire me to do."

Elrond smiled bafflingly and murmured into Silinde's ear: 

"Are you sure you would tolerate what I desire? For I would have 
you...pen-neth, nin bain.."

"I would gladly have you take me, Master Elrond..." answered Silinde, eyes 
closed in order to better enjoy the flow of air tickling his sensitive skin.

Hearing this, Elrond pressed himself against the youth, his erection now 
between Silinde's thighs and his hands claiming all that was his by love. 
Silinde wanted to get closer to his lover, to blend into him, to lose himself 
completely for the first time. Elrond reached out for the table to get some 
grease-like liquid that was used for salves, returning his attention to the 
Mirkwood youth again after dipping his fingers into the liquid. Gentle but 
bold hands moved to the youth's buttocks, massaging and squeezing in a 
way that made Silinde's blood heat up again. He arched his back when a 
probing finger found his opening, teasing the young one and then sliding 
inside, letting Silinde get used to the feeling. Soon, just as Silinde was 
moving his bottom around the finger, another slipped in, stretching him a 
bit more. A sigh issued from the young one as the fingers rubbed against 
his prostate, which exited him enough to make his shaft reawaken. 

In spite of not being entirely uninitiated to such mating, Silinde had to bite 
his lips not to whine as a third finger joined the others inside him, stretching 
him wide. As soon as the muscles relaxed, it turned into a thrilling 
experience. Elrond Peredhel was not as the others he had known: the 
elflord took time to make everything exactly as it should be, soothing and 
satisfying. Elrond kept kissing the younger elf and carressing him with his 
free hand as lovingly as possible, their bodies moving together as if locked 
onto one another. Just as Silinde was about to burst from the stimulating 
feel of the fingers, Elrond pulled them out to rub some more liquid on his 
shaft. He grasped Silinde's legs and wrapped them around his waist, 
kneeling on the bed. He raised the youth so that his erection met the 
opening and began to push in very slowly and carefully. Once inside, he 
waited till the pain of the penetration faded before he pulled back and 
entered the youth again, friction assailing Silinde with delight he thought 
would make him mad. 

The rhythm Elrond set was leisurely, making each stroke of the younger 
one's prostate feel better and better. A firm hand gripped the youth's cock, 
rubbing it at a similar pace to his thrusts, causing Silinde to buck and 
writhe. Perhaps the experience and years had indeed brought Elrond more 
stamina, for he continued longer than Silinde could have assumed he 
would, increasing the speed and intensity of their intercourse as they both 
felt their limits draw near. Silinde was the first to come, calling out Elrond's 
name, with a final buck and shudder that coursed through his entire being 
as his seed spilled into the hand of the elflord and onto his stomach. A few 
pushes later Elrond tensed too, crying hoarsely and ejaculating. The pair 
lay in each other's arms for a long time afterwards, absently carressing a 
strand of hair or a curve of the body, whispering gentle words into the 
love-laden atmosphere. 

"My lovely young one...I have not experienced anything that ardent for 
years. You are a rare gift, it seems, and one that is difficult to let go of at 
all." Elrond smiled at Silinde, who suddenly had to swallow hard. It was no 
use trying to stop the tears, they flowed down his cheeks no matter how 
much he fought them, leaving darker stains in the sheets between which 
they now lay. 

Master Elrond looked worried for a moment as he asked: 

"Silinde, my lover, what is the matter? Have I hurt you? Please say that it is 
not so, for I could not forgive myself."

"It is not that...how could someone as wonderful as you are ever hurt me? 
If I cry, it is the tears I have kept back for years and that your loving has 
set free from the depths of my heart. I will love you, lírimaer, now and as 
long as I am allowed to. You have treated me better than I could have 
hoped for, and there is nothing that can make you less desirable in my eyes 
now." sighed Silinde, looking into those ravishing eyes that were now the 
light he would follow through wind and rain. Silinde knew from the kiss the 
other elf gave him that this light would always guide him to a safe haven. 
Let tomorrow come, bring what it may; he would not be wounded with his 
love to guard him. Both of them drifted off to sweet, comforting sleep.


FINIS

Translations: pen-neth=young one, pen-iaur=ancient one, saes=please, 
yonta=more (I know, it's Quenya, but there's no good equivalent in 
Sindarin...), meleth-nin=my love, nin bain=my beautiful one & 
lírimaer=lovely one. Apologies for possible mistakes, corrections 
welcome. Hope you enjoyed it.