Title: Married to an Elf Part 13/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel Rating: PG Summary: Celebrations begin. Genre: Romance Word count: 609 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 15 Sep 2006 – ‘heal/healer’; 14 May 2007 – ‘jubilant’; 14 Sep 2007 – ‘feed’ ************************ Erestor sat back, content. The twins had returned in just enough time to help him dress for the ceremony, though the darkling elf could sense that things were still unresolved between the two. Not that he was surprised, but he could see that both Elladan and Elrohir had made a concerted effort to not let what was happening between them cast a shadow over the ceremony. His gaze turned to Glorfindel. The seneschal was laughing at something that Legolas had said, and Erestor could only marvel – again – that the golden-haired warrior was now his mate. He sighed happily, and took a sip from the goblet of wine that was miraculously full every time he picked it up. “You look almost jubilant, melethen,” a voice whispered in his ear. Erestor turned and looked into the twinkling blue eyes of his mate. “Mayhap that is because I am,” he whispered back, giggling slightly. A hand swiftly reached out to stop Erestor from tipping the wine into his lap. “Methinks, melethen, you have drunk more wine than you usually do.” Glorfindel’s voice could not hide his amusement. Erestor stared at the goblet, seemingly absorbed, before turning his gaze to the golden-haired warrior. “I do believe you may be right,” he said in utter seriousness, and then gave a small hiccup. “Oh dear,” he said inanely, watching as Glorfindel removed the goblet from his hand and set it upon the table. “What you need, melethen, is some sustenance. You have barely eaten anything. Wait here, and I shall bring you back a plate.” The darkling elf watched as Glorfindel moved his way through the throngs of people, admiring how the cream-coloured leggings enhanced the very delectable backside encased in them. Erestor’s mouth watered. Yes, Glorfindel was right. The advisor definitely needed some sustenance, but not the kind that his mate thought the darkling elf needed. When Glorfindel returned, he set the plate in front of Erestor. “Here. Elrond suggests you should also drink water from now on.” Erestor smiled. “Elrond is such a good healer, is he not?” Glorfindel blinked. “Of course he is, melethen.” He picked up one of the savoury pastries. “I have not seen you try one of these.” “Oh, are you going to feed me?” Erestor asked happily. The seneschal said nothing, instead guiding the pastry into Erestor’s mouth, only to stifle a groan as the darkling elf’s tongue flicked out to lick away the errant crumbs from Glorfindel’s fingers. “Mmmm…delicious,” Erestor purred. He leaned towards Glorfindel, the crackling of parchment stopping him from actually kissing his mate. Pulling the now slightly creased parchment out from under him, Erestor laid it on the table. Glorfindel stared at it a little curiously. “What is that?” he asked. “Something I had written to read out,” Erestor said, his gaze now serious. “My thoughts, my feelings for you.” “You were planning to read it out…when?” “I was planning to do it after the binding ceremony, but now…” Erestor blushed slightly. “Now I think I should just let you read it instead. I do, after all, have a reputation to maintain, and reading this,” Erestor said, pointing to the parchment, “would more than likely put a serious dent in it.” Glorfindel picked up the parchment and opened it, his eyes widening slightly as he read the contents. “Melethen,” the golden-haired warrior began, “if you had read this out loud to everyone here, you would have ruined your reputation beyond redemption.” He smiled. “I would much rather, ervainen vorn, if you actually *showed* me.” “I think I can manage to do that, maethoren vain,” the darkling elf said, his eyes glinting with anticipation. ************************ Elvish translations: ervainen vorn – my dark beautiful one maethoren vain – my beautiful warrior melethen – my love *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Married to an Elf Part 14/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lindir/Legolas, Lothvaen/Haldir, Elladan, Elrohir Rating: PG Summary: Lindir is in for a surprise. Genre: Romance Word count: 681 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 6 Sep 2006 – ‘tapestry‘; 17 Sep 2007 – ‘perfect’ ************************ Whiling away the time, Lindir stared at the tapestry on the wall as he waited for Legolas to show. The prince had merely smiled and said nothing when Lindir had asked him why, leaving the minstrel in a heightened state of anticipation. The celebration after the binding ceremony was still in full swing, though Erestor and Glorfindel had long since retired amidst much ribald jokes and innuendos that had only made the newly bonded couple laugh as they left. Then there was Lothvaen and Haldir. Something had happened between the two, Lindir was sure. He saw his friend constantly seeking out the Marchwarden during the celebration, yet making no move towards him once the scribe had seen him. Nor had Haldir approached Lothvaen. As for the twins, they seemed to be in good enough spirits. No-one was really sure what was going on between the two, with those in the know being tight-lipped. Whatever it was, though, Lindir hoped that it would resolve itself soon. The minstrel was genuinely fond of them, and it bothered him to see Elladan and Elrohir at odds with each other. “Are you ready?” Legolas’ voice preceded him as he walked out of the gloom of the corridor. “Yes,” Lindir said. “But where are we going?” Legolas raised his hand and gently laid a finger on the minstrel’s lips. “No more questions,” he said softly. “Just trust me.” Resisting the urge to take the finger in his mouth and suck on it so as to watch his lover’s reaction, Lindir nodded his agreement. Silently the prince made his way further down the corridor to the door leading outside, Lindir following in his wake. They remained silent, Lindir continuing to follow Legolas as the prince walked towards a glade of trees that were still close to the house, yet secluded enough from any prying eyes, their path clearly marked under the full gaze of Ithil. “We are here,” Legolas said, turning his gaze towards Lindir. The minstrel swallowed, suddenly overcome by the love shining so obviously from the prince’s eyes. He then turned and took in the sight before him. Someone – certainly not Legolas, who had been at the celebration the whole time – had arranged blankets and bedding in the small clearing within the glade, together with a basket that Lindir surmised contained food and drink of some sort. It was, in the minstrel’s eyes, perfect, but he was no clearer as to what it was all about. He turned back to Legolas. “Why?” he asked simply. “’Tis a beautiful night, Lindir. When I heard that the binding ceremony was to be held at twilight, I thought it fitting that we would have our own celebration later, under starlight and moonlight... though you, melethen, outshine the moon and the stars.” Legolas’ voice was husky, and Lindir felt himself shiver. “Celebration?” the minstrel whispered. Taking Lindir by the hand, Legolas drew him towards the bedding and guided him down. The prince’s mien was serious as he continued to clasp the minstrel’s hand. “Would you,” he began after taking a deep breath, “consider leaving Imladris and returning with me to Mirkwood?” Lindir’s heart began to pound. “Go with you to Mirkwood? Why are you asking me this?” Reaching inside his tunic, Legolas withdrew a chain, on which there were two mithril rings, and Lindir’s eyes widened. “I know we have not been courting for long, merilinin dithen, but of this I am certain. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Would you agree in becoming my betrothed, Lindir? Will you bind with me?” The minstrel stared at Legolas, completely lost for words. Legolas smiled a little ruefully. “I can see I have more than surprised you, melethen. However, I understand if you do not wish to answer me straight away…” “Yes!” Lindir’s outburst stopped Legolas, and it was the prince’s turn to be stunned into silence. “I love you, Legolas. I would follow you to the ends of Middle-earth if need be but, yes, I will bind myself to you, and go with you to Mirkwood.” ************************ Elvish translations: melethen – my love merilinin dithen – my little nightingale *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Married to an Elf Part 15/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lindir/Legolas, Lothvaen/Haldir Rating: NC17 Summary: Erestor makes Glorfindel a happy elf. Genre: Romance Word count: 775 Warnings: Sex scene ahead… Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 5 Jul 2006 – ‘swim‘; 5 Oct 2006 – ‘negotiate/negotiation’; 17 Oct 2006 – ‘dreary‘; 6 Sep 2007 – ‘kneel’; 22 Sep 2007 – ‘move’ ************************ “Shall we go for a swim?” Erestor raised his head at the sound of his mate-of-nearly-two-weeks’ voice and smiled. “An excellent idea,” he said. “Anything to get away from these dreary reports.” The seneschal laughed. “Since when have reports become dreary to you?” he asked. “Since my binding with a certain golden-haired warrior who makes life infinitely more interesting than reports – though I should not have said that, for you have a big enough head as it is.” Glorfindel huffed in mock indignation. “I do not have a big head!” “No,” Erestor agreed with a smile, “you do not. However, I have no desire to continue reading any further about this negotiation for a revised trade agreement, not when I can think of much better things to do.” “Such as?” Glorfindel wanted to know, his eyes gleaming. “Such as going for a swim,” the darkling elf replied, deliberately ignoring the moue of disappointment on his mate’s face. Rising up from his chair, Erestor threw down his quill with some satisfaction. Aranel, disturbed from her slumber at Erestor’s feet, stretched and yawned before stalking out from beneath the advisor’s desk. “When is Thranduil due to arrive?” Glorfindel asked as he stepped aside to allow Erestor to go through the door. “Tomorrow,” Erestor replied. “I suspect Legolas’ sudden betrothal to Lindir has caught him by surprise as much as it did us.” “They certainly did not waste any time,” Glorfindel said, remembering the sight of the two more than satisfied elves arriving back at the house the morning after his and Erestor’s binding ceremony. “If only everything could be resolved so quickly and easily.” Erestor sighed. “The twins are avoiding each other, as if they are hoping the situation between them would just disappear. As for Lothvaen and Haldir…” The advisor shook his head. “I only wish that Lothvaen could sort out his heart. It is obvious that Haldir cares a great deal about Lothvaen, but…” “…Lothvaen is afraid. I do not think his heart has fully recovered from the break-up between him and Elrohir. He will not so easily relinquish his heart this time round.” Erestor turned to look at Glorfindel. “I think you may be right. However, he will need to decide soon whether he wants to have a relationship with Haldir or not; Galadriel returns to Lothlórien next week, and Haldir will be returning with her.” They made their way back to their rooms, where they proceeded to change into something more casual. Glorfindel, as was his wont, had stripped himself completely before reaching for the comfortable suede leggings he often wore when relaxing. “Stop.” Erestor’s voice was rough with longing as he walked to Glorfindel, only to kneel at the seneschal’s feet. “See something you like?” Glorfindel couldn’t resist asking the question, and he could feel his member hardening under the ardent gaze of the darkling elf. Erestor’s smouldering gaze met that of his mate’s. “A silly question, melethen,” he replied, licking his lips as Glorfindel’s erection grew under his gaze. The darkling elf’s hand curled around the turgid flesh and stroked it. Pre-come began leaking from the tip, and Erestor licked it off, moaning in appreciation at the taste that was so uniquely his mate’s. His tongue swirled around the tip, and Erestor could feel Glorfindel shudder. The advisor took his mate’s erection in his mouth, applying himself with enthusiasm to bring his mate over the edge. Glorfindel began to move, thrusting gently into the warm cavern of the darkling elf’s mouth. “Do you know what you do to me?” he whispered, though the seneschal knew the question to be superfluous. His mate knew exactly what he was doing, and Glorfindel allowed himself to sink into the pleasure that was being given him. It did not take long before he shot his essence down Erestor’s throat, groaning as the darkling elf continued to suck and lick until he had swallowed every possible drop. When Erestor raised his eyes, it was to the sight of Glorfindel looking more than sated. Blue eyes met brown, and Glorfindel said huskily, “The bed, melethen. I want you inside of me.” Erestor blinked. “Are you sure?” he asked, rising to his feet. “More than sure, melethen.” “But I have never…” “Shh…I have always wanted this, from the moment we started courting.” Swallowing, Erestor could only stare at Glorfindel. “All right,” he finally whispered. “Do we have enough oil?” Glorfindel smiled. “More than enough, melethen.” “And you will let me know if I am hurting you, will you not?” “You will not hurt me, Erestor.” Erestor returned Glorfindel’s smile. “Then let us retire to the bed, shall we?” ************************ Elvish translations: melethen – my love *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*