Summer Showers

BY : Kellan Brodie
Category: -Multi-Age > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 1497
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Title: Summer Showers
Author: Kellan Brodie
Fandom: JRR Tolkien
Beta: lioness
Characters: Legolas/Gildor
Rating: NC-17
Warning: mpreg
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but they are fun to play with.
Word Count: 5,610
Summary: Gildor returns to Mirkwood and is given an unpleasant surprise.
Author Note: Written for the My Slashy Valentine exchange. The request was for Legolas mpreg with angst and a rainshower. I tried my best (since I donít usually write mpreg) to write all the elements in, and I hope my giftee enjoys what Iíve done!


Legolas paced the length of his chamber again and again. He crossed his arms over his chest as he made one sharp turn after another, his wheat-blond hair flipping about his shoulders with the force of his stride and the abrupt changes in direction. His mind swirled, the thoughts a jumbled mass of confusion with venomous barbs of fear that pricked at him, tore at the fabric of his sanity each time he returned to the terrible truth.

He halted, the cessation of his movement even more jarring than the frantic turns had been. Closing his eyes, he turned to face his full-length mirror once again. He knew that the reflective surface would reveal what he had already suspected to be true, and he hesitated before finally opening his eyes, his cerulean gaze instantly drawn to the slight rounding of his belly, a bulge that had not been caused by idleness or overindulgence of the berry tarts the kitchens had made all throughout the early summer months.

He was pregnant.

By the Valar, he couldn't understand how it was possible, how his body was even capable of bearing a child, much less birthing one. It explained a few occurrences of the past months; he had felt strangely ill as he woke in the morning, his usual training schedule left him exhausted and ravenously hungry, and for the strangest combinations of food. Unfolding his arms, he let his hands stray to the convex portion of his abdomen.

How was he going to tell Gildor?

Dear Gods, how was he to tell the Noldo?

He felt the thought snag on those poisonous thorns in his mind, spreading fear and doubt through him, turning his heart to a treacherous organ as it pounded beneath his ribcage. Gildor had been his lover for years, and though they had not spoken of marriage, it was clear that what they had was committed. Exclusive. Gildor had to be the father of his child. He had accepted the advances of no others since their relationship had become more serious three summers back.

What would Gildor think upon his return to Greenwood? When he had left before the spring thaw, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. Legolas knew their time apart was drawing to a close; Gildor always returned to him around this time in the summer, wanderlust satisfied and duties performed. What would the golden-haired Noldo say? How would he respond to this drastic shift? Commitment was one thing, but they had entered their relationship with the understanding that they could not bear children and did not particularly wish to do so.

Fear twisted his gut into knots, and he took a few steps back, sitting on the edge of his bed with his abdomen cradled in his hands. He was a proud Elf, a seasoned warrior and Prince to his people. If Gildor wished to break from him because of this pregnancy, this strange miracle granted by the Valar, then he would birth their child and raise it as his heir.

His heart sank as his mind relentlessly circled around the possibility of Gildor's rejection, the consequences of unwittingly providing the Noldo with a child he might not even want. Rising from his bed, he dressed for the day, carefully selecting his clothing to hide the bulge of his belly. No one needed to know just yet. The last thing he wanted was the impressive rumor mill to bring word of his condition to Gildor before he had a chance to speak to his lover himself.

Pulling his hair back into a simple knot at the base of his neck, Legolas left his chambers and navigated the labyrinth of corridors and stairways to the library. It had been too long since he spent some time with Saelbeth, and the kind-hearted councilor never failed to lift his spirits.

Anything to tame the tempest of his thoughts.


Gildor hummed to himself as he crossed the bridge that marked the last league between him and his lover. His lips curved into a smile, his spirit soaring, the closer he came. The season had come and gone, spent fetching secrets for Elrond from the east, and now... now he would have his summer-long respite. "Legolas," he said, a laugh bubbling up. The mere thought of his love made his heart lighter.

The inner patrol, warned of his approach by the outer patrol, met him on the other side of the bridge.

"Lord Gildor!"

Gildor raised his hand in greeting. "Cand!"

"It's been a while," Cand said, falling into step beside Gildor.

"Only a season." Gildor looked up at the deep green trees that he knew spoke of the forest's secrets to their master. "Only a season."

Cand ushered Gildor past, the main gates of Thranduil's halls opening. "A lot can change in a season, my friend."

The ominous words caused Gildor's hair to stand up on the back of his neck, but he laughed it off. "As much as can change in a day!" he hollered back, stepping into the dim corridors of the underground halls that sheltered the Wood Elves. He was greeted by several Elves on his way from the mouth of the halls to the Royal Corridor, and his humming resumed. He was eager to see Legolas again. Their reunion for the winter had been brief, as Elrond had called him back before the spring thaw, and he always had that slight insecurity when he was away longer than a season.

Legolas was sought after, his favors desired by many, and Gildor knew that absence sometimes did not make the heart grow fonder. A cold bed was motivation enough for many to seek means to warm it.

With these thoughts in mind, he raised his hand to knock a warning to Legolas' door before he let himself inside. "Legolas?" he called, the door shutting with a quiet click behind him.

Legolas' head snapped up from the pages of the book he had been reading, and he quickly set the text aside. The joy of hearing Gildor's voice after so long was quickly tempered by the weight of the knowledge he held, the burden of uncertainty. Standing from his chair, he rearranged his tunic and took a deep breath before meeting his lover just as Gildor appeared through the door of the antechamber. He couldn't help smiling at the sight of the blond Noldo, and he hastened to bring their lips together, selfishly desiring a kiss before he shared the news he had kept secret from all others.

Gildor moaned softly, wrapping his arms around Legolas' waist to bring them closer together. He quickly took control of the kiss, deepening it, possessing Legolas' mouth with eager desire. "I've missed you," he panted when the kiss ended.

"As I have you," Legolas breathed against Gildor's lips, savouring the feeling of the arms that held him. He wondered if his distended stomach could be felt by his lover, and the worries that arose in his mind made him cherish their closeness all the more. With a final kiss, he drew back, steadying his breath before speaking again. "Gildor, I... I have something I need to tell you."

The worry Gildor heard in Legolas' voice made him frown. "Something I don't want to hear from the sound of your voice."

Legolas swallowed thickly, but his resolve did not waver. "I'm pregnant, Gildor."

Gildor blinked several times, and then laughed. "Very amusing, Legolas."

"This is not a joke, Gildor," Legolas insisted, and his face held a serious, grave expression that made him look uncannily like his father. He had expected the disbelief, and he pulled one of Gildor's hands between them, slipping it under his tunic to rest against the protrusion of his belly. "I'm pregnant. I don't know how... but I am."

Gildor yanked his hand back, wide eyes gazing at Legolas' middle. "Impossible!"

"I thought so as well." Legolas tried to remain calm, knowing his own panic would only make matters worse. "There is no record of a male carrying a child in all of Elven history. I... I suppose I am blessed by the Valar. *We* are blessed."

"Blessed?" Gildor frowned. "*Blessed*?"

Legolas flinched at the combination of Gildor's tone and expression. "I know you did not exactly want children, and you never would have expected to have the opportunity with me, but," he paused, "it is our child. Yours and mine."

"If I had desired children, Legolas, I would have wed a female. I've no life for rearing a child!" Gildor began to pace, his narrowed eyes on Legolas. "A pregnant male... do you know how *wrong* that is? How *strange*?"

His heart aching at the words, Legolas tightened his jaw and crossed his arms protectively over his chest. He did not have a response for Gildor, so he remained silent, watching his lover pace. He had feared such a reaction, but he had prepared himself mentally for the possibility. That did not make it any less painful, but at least his planning had not been in vain.

Gildor pressed his lips together briefly, but it didn't stop the words from leaving his mouth. "And it's mine? You're certain?" He held up a hand, shaking his head. "No. I know it's mine. You would never be unfaithful. That... was unworthy of me."

The wounded look in Legolas' eyes sharpened with anger. "It was," he agreed. "The child is yours. Whether or not you want it seems to be another matter entirely. If something so wrong and strange, so inconvenient to you, has no place in your life... then I am sure you will not miss me in the end." He finally tore his gaze away from Gildor, passing the pacing Elf to take a seat in the alcove near his window. The sky was becoming cloudy, the wind bringing a certain haze that foretold of rain.

"Don't be foolish." Gildor stopped his pacing, ending three steps from the door. He crossed his arms and focused his gaze on Legolas. "Your father would never allow me to abandon you or the child," he pointed out.

Something within Legolas grew frail and broke. His head snapped from the window to Gildor, cerulean eyes blazing. "If the only thing keeping you here is the wrath of my father, then I think you should leave my chambers." He rose from his seat, and, from his bearing and expression, there was no mistaking that it was the Prince of Mirkwood who stood before Gildor, regal and fell. "I will speak to Galion and arrange for more appropriate accommodations. Far be it from me to chain down an endless wanderer."

Gildor became silent, eyes staring steadily at Legolas before he gave a curt nod. "Very well, my lord." He bowed lowly, and then turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. The door shut with a finality behind him, and Gildor did not glance backwards once as he made his way to the barracks.

The silence and emptiness of the room was almost palpable to Legolas' senses, and he stood still for many moments before the truth of the situation sank in. He left his chambers in a rush, all but running through the corridors to the hidden, interior courtyard near his father's private audience room, heedless of the eyes that questioned him as he ran past.


Gildor sprawled across the bed in his newly assigned room. His first week back in Mirkwood was already a dismal disappointment. The storm that had rolled in the day he arrived still raged outside the halls, the quiet plink plink of dripping water a constant background noise. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. Legolas was being unreasonable, it was as simple as that. What had Legolas expected him to do when confronted with such insane news? A father? Him? Hardly! He was never in one place long enough for such roots, and he certainly didn't want to begin now!

Damn Legolas!

He sat up and began to pace, agitated and unable to sit still.

A child... of all things the Valar could have given him in return for the hellish days of his life, they give him a *child*! How dare they? How dare they ruin the most joyous thing in his life by seeding Legolas!

A sharp knock sounded at the door, followed by the familiar voice of Saelbeth. "Lord Gildor?"

Gildor growled and stalked over to the door, yanking it open. "What?" The slap of the councillor's palm connected sharply with his cheek before he could stop it, snapping his neck to the opposite side.

"You had better be thankful it is *me* here instead of King Thranduil," Saelbeth spat angrily at the blond Noldo.

Gildor covered his burning cheek with his hand, staring in disbelief at Saelbeth. "Did you just strike me?"

"Not *nearly* as hard as you deserve," Saelbeth confirmed, pushing Gildor back into the room and following him inside. The door safely shut behind him, he glared at Gildor, incensed beyond the point of fearing the Elf, who was over twice his age. "Legolas has refused all company, except his father's and mine, for the last week. Do you have any idea the pain you are causing him, or do you simply not care?"

"He causes his own pain." Gildor rubbed at his face. "How would you expect me to react, Saelbeth? Not only do I come home to a pregnancy I did not consent to, but to a male lover who is *bearing* that pregnancy!"

"I would expect shock, naturally, but outright rejection? Everyone in this realm had all but considered you Legolas' chosen, Gildor! You might be upset about Legolas bearing you a child you did not expect, but how do you think Legolas feels? Did you even bother to ask him? He's frightened out of his wits! No one knows what will happen in another seven months. We don't even know if it is possible to deliver the child through surgery without endangering Legolas himself!" Saelbeth's face grew reddened with resentment. "He was hoping to at least face his fate with you at his side, but instead you have cast him away like some sullied whore from Laketown!"

Gildor slammed his hand against the door. "He is the Prince of Mirkwood! I have *never* treated him as less!" His heart began to pound a frightening rhythm, the idea of Legolas dying, being taken from the world he walked, unbearable.

"You all but called him an abomination. I'd say that's a great deal less," Saelbeth pointed out harshly. Gildor stood silent in the room, his eyes averted, and the silent confirmation was enough to make Saelbeth seethe. "You have treated him like spider fodder, Gildor. The only reason Thranduil doesn't kill you with his own two hands is that Legolas has forbidden him to seek you out. He loves you, and you are being a complete ass. He didn't ask for this to happen either, you realise, and, unlike you, he cannot run from the situation."

"What is it you would like for me to do?" Gildor asked, his voice tight.

"Make up your mind," Saelbeth demanded. "Either accept Legolas and his child or reject them and leave the realm before Thranduil hunts you down. One way or the other, we will not announce the pregnancy to the realm until you have made your decision." Turning, he began to open the door, showing himself out.

Gildor grasped Saelbeth's arm, stopping his friend before he could leave. "Will you give Legolas a message for me?"

Saelbeth's eyes narrowed. "One you can't deliver yourself?"


With a sigh, Saelbeth relented. "Speak your message," he said tersely.

Gildor wet his lips. "Tell him to meet me in our courtyard in two days. I will have made a decision by that time, and I will speak it only to him."

"Your courtyard in two days. I will tell him," Saelbeth promised. With only the barest incline of his head, he left the room, making for King Thranduil's chambers, where they had kept Legolas the last week to save him the discomforts of unwanted visitors and scrutinizing gazes.


Legolas wasn't sure why he followed the directions that Gildor had given him through Saelbeth. He didn't want to see Gildor, didn't want to hear the scathing words from his lover's tongue that would signal the true ending of their relationship. The stress of the situation had exhausted him, but even his dreams were troubled, and it seemed that true rest was simply beyond him in the wake of Gildor's reaction.

His father had been his greatest comfort, one who did not turn away when he needed understanding. Thranduil had held him close while he wept, had whispered reassurances to him when he shared his fears. His father would see him through the pregnancy, would care for him if Gildor would not, and that thought had warmed his heart and calmed his tears so he could sleep. If he lost his life during the birthing of his child, his son or daughter would have a home with Thranduil. In the end, that was all that truly mattered.

Legolas didn't flinch as the first drop of rain hit the bare skin of his arm. It was warm in the private courtyard, the usual sweltering heat of the forest tempered by the incoming storm, which followed the conclusion of the last by only a few hours. It was a gentler storm, the rain falling without much wind, and he did not mind when the large droplets began to saturate his sleeveless tunic and the loose length of his blond hair.

Gildor stood in the doorway, watching Legolas turn his face up to the light shower. His lover was breathtaking, golden-hued and slender. Gildor's eyes slowly moved down the length of Legolas' profile, from the honey-colored hair to the slight upturn of the proud nose. From the bowed lips to the strong arms, hands hardened by bow and waist softened by child. He stared at the slight protrusion of the child that grew within Legolas, his head tilted at the fluttering in his own stomach, and a smile gradually turned the corners of his lips.

Quite frankly, with the afternoon light shining through the diamond-like drops of rain, Legolas was the most beautiful sight Gildor had seen in his long years. Suddenly, Gildor knew his answer to the unspoken ultimatum Legolas had issued through Saelbeth.


His brow twitching at the sound of his name, Legolas consciously kept his eyes closed a bit longer. "Gildor," he whispered in greeting, lowering his head and turning it toward the Noldo before opening his eyes. A small, sad smile managed to curve his lips, but he found he couldn't hold Gildor's gaze for long and turned to look at the summer flowers of the courtyard. "Father said he hopes the child has *his* eyes, like the ones he gave me. I told him I disagree... that I hope it has your eyes instead, that soft grey with an inner light. Perhaps the silvery hair of my mother." If he wept, the tears were lost in the drizzle of rain that fell over his face.

Gildor took several steps into the courtyard. "Misty eyes with your wheat-coloured hair, Legolas." He chuckled softly. "Perhaps a little girl who will trail after you, begging to be taught the bow while I insist she be a lady and learn the court manners befitting a princess."

The words seemed a harsh contrast to the ones Gildor had spoken over a week prior, and Legolas fought the instinct to sob his sadness to the rain. He lifted his hands, unsure whether the slight tremble he saw was from the movement of his fingers or the blurr of the moisture in his eyes. He cradled his belly with both hands. "But you won't be here to teach her proper manners, will you? She'll have to learn them from Thranduil... who will spoil her rotten before she is even a decade old."

"I don't possess the manners to teach her," Gildor said with a small laugh. "I've the court etiquette of a dog, or have you forgotten my initial arrival in Mirkwood?"

Legolas could not help but laugh, though the sound came out somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "You barged into a private, formal dinner, smelling of horse and battle, and all but spat on my father's boots, demanding why no one had told you there were giant spiders between here and Lůrien."

Gildor shook his head. "It was necessary information, don't you think?"

"Something you would have known if you had the forethought to ask behind the name of the forest," Legolas managed to tease, finally glancing up at Gildor through the dripping strands of his hair.

Slowly, Gildor closed the space between them, hovering near Legolas' side. "I have been a foolish, stupid Elf."

A spark of hope lit Legolas' eyes, and he nodded his agreement. "You have."

"Have I been so foolish that it cannot be forgiven?"

"You... wish to make amends?" Legolas questioned softly.

Gildor ducked his head, letting out a long breath. "Is it possible to make amends for the needless hurt I have caused you?"

Legolas swallowed and exhaled, nodding his head. "I want you to stay with me. I don't want to be alone throughout this unexplainable twist in our relationship. I... want our child to know you... to love you as a father."

"I never planned to be a father." Gildor hesitantly reached out, his hand cupping the swell of Legolas' abdomen. A smile tugged at his lips. "But some of my greatest adventures weren't planned."

Covering Gildor's hand with his own, Legolas looked into the grey eyes of his lover. "Please stay. Take this adventure with me. Harsh words can be forgiven... and your absence would be felt by us all."

Gildor used his other hand to pull Legolas against him, keeping their entwined hands on the rounded belly. "I would be honored, my prince," he whispered. The rain was cool on his skin, wetting them both thoroughly, and he chuckled. "Your father will be displeased with me for keeping you out in the rain..."

"Not when he sees what we're doing," Legolas insisted, a smile finally curving his lips. He lifted his hand to cup Gildor's face, brushing aside the golden strands of hair and pulling the Elf's lips to his own in a forgiving caress.

After a moment, Gildor lifted his lips. "And what, my prince, are we going to be doing in the courtyard... in the rain... that your father wouldn't be displeased with?"

"Making amends."

Gildor laughed. "I think I would like that." He covered his lover's mouth, teasing along the seam of Legolas' lips, and then delved into the warmth he'd missed for months. His arms tightened around Legolas, pulled the slighter Elf flush against his body, and Gildor took his time reacquainting himself with every crevice of Legolas' mouth.

Legolas emitted a small moan at the thorough kiss, his arms automatically lifting and wrapping around Gildor's neck so their bodies rested as close as possible. Though he was submissive, he was not passive, and his tongue slid along Gildor's, inviting his lover deeper. He wanted to feel that acceptance from Gildor, the claiming possession that would communicate that Gildor wanted him, wanted their child.

Lifting his hands, Gildor cupped Legolas' face, tilting their heads in order to deepen the kiss, accept the invitation offered. The rain fell down, a soft pattering on the leaves and grass around them, and Gildor lingered in the kiss until they were both breathless. He pulled back, licking at rain-slicked lips, and smiled. "We will have a child." Gildor's hand returned to Legolas' belly. "Our child."

The words rushed through Legolas like a wave of summer heat, and he smiled as he panted up at his lover. "Ours." Relief and happiness shined from his eyes, and it seemed a weight was lifted from his shoulders. "Take me, Gildor... Please? I have missed the feel of you... missed you so much these last months."

Gildor raised an eyebrow. "Here?" He shook his head, his wet hair slapping against his face. "In the rain? With no oil?"

"You came to apologise and didn't bring oil?" Legolas chuckled. "How out of the ordinary for you."

A faint smirk curved Gildor's lips. "I have salve..."

"Close enough," Legolas insisted, drawing Gildor down for another kiss, his hands beginning to unfasten the ties of the Noldo's shirt and leggings.

Gildor moaned, his own hands fumbling with Legolas' clothing. "Impatient, aren't you?" he teased.

"I thought you were going to leave," Legolas said softly, "and having already been apart from you for months, I want you close again." The last of the ties holding the front of Gildor's shirt finally gave, and he parted the fabric with an appreciative sigh. The Noldo's torso was not without the signs of battle, just as his own bore scars from years defending Mirkwood from the darkness that plagued the forest. All the imperfections, however, were what Legolas adored about the other Elf, and he ran his hands down the expanse of tanned skin, from collar bones to the damp edge of Gildor's trousers, and then back up. He pushed the fabric down Gildor's arms, pulling until the moisture-adhered fabric abandoned the Elf's skin, falling to a pile in the green of the grass below their feet.

"Close?" Gildor pulled Legolas' tunic over his head, tossing the fabric to the ground with a wet plop. "Are we not close enough now?" He ran his hands along the wet planes of Legolas' back, fingers gliding along his lover's spine before dipping below the soaked leather of the Wood Elf's breeches. "Or do you want closer?" he murmured, dipping his head in order to suck at the pounding pulse in Legolas' throat.

"Closer," Legolas gasped, pulling apart the fabric of Gildor's trousers and unceremoniously slipping his hand inside. Despite his haste, he was incredibly gentle, his strong hand stroking up and down the length of his lover's sex.

Gildor threw his head back, crying out to the cloudy sky as his face was kissed by the rain. The calloused hand teased him, drew him deeper into the haze of lust he felt. "Not... close enough," he panted. He withdrew from Legolas' grip and bore him to the ground, kissing sweet lips while his hands removed the clothing that barred them from one another.

The ground was soft beneath Legolas' back, the rain-moistened grass like a cushion of vibrant green that contrasted with the golden color of his wet hair. The slick feel of Gildor settling between his legs, their nude torsos pressed against one another, was glorious, the weight of his lover comforting, and the brush of their lengths arousing. Lifting his legs, he angled his hips up, groaning at the shift of weight to his groin and the swell of his abdomen. "We... haven't done this... since you... somehow seeded me," Legolas laughed breathlessly between kisses, his hands travelling along arms and shoulders.

Gildor panted against Legolas' lips, rain running down his back, between his buttocks, and he moved steadily against his lover. "It was a... memorable... parting," he said, licking at raindrops pooling at the hollow of Legolas' throat. "The memory of your cries... kept me warm during the... cold nights."

"I thought of it... often as I touched myself..." Legolas admitted with a moan. "Please, don't make me... wait much longer."

"Waited too long already." Gildor snatched up the salve from his discarded trousers. Within moments, he groaned, his slick fingers sliding into the tightness of Legolas' body. "So beautiful..."

Legolas let out a soft cry, his eyes opening for a moment to take in the sight of Gildor settled between his legs. He had to blink several times, the rain hitting his lashes and seeping down into his eyes, but the single look was enough to pull another moan from him. He pushed down against the intrusion, his body adjusting swiftly thanks to his own habits while Gildor was away. "Valar, I have missed you!"

Gildor leaned over while his fingers moved in and out. "As I have missed you." He drew Legolas' sex between his lips, suckling upon the tip as his fingers stroked the gland hidden along his lover's passage. It was glorious to have Legolas beneath him once more, the taste and feel of Legolas overwhelming his rational mind. He wanted to be buried inside his golden archer, and his impatience showed in the swift movements of hands and mouth.

"Ai!" Legolas cried out softly, his head thrown back against the grass. The coolness of the rain was a stark contrast to the heat of Gildor's mouth, and he instinctively thrust into the warmth while the rain beaded down his bare skin, caressing every inch of him as if it was an extension of Gildor's erotic will. "Please, Gildor... join us."

Drawing off of Legolas, Gildor smiled down at his lover. "You beg so beautifully." He smeared the ointment over his shaft and positioned himself at the opening to Legolas'. Gildor paused, trembling with restrained need, and ordered, "Look at me, Legolas..."

Obeying the command, Legolas lifted his head and opened his eyes, meeting his lover's stunning grey gaze, which was darkened like the rain-laden clouds above their heads.

With their eyes locked together, Gildor slowly breached Legolas' body, his breath caught in his throat. As he made that first, slow thrust, he caressed Legolas' distended stomach with his hand. "You are both... mine... Legolas. No other... *ever*."

Legolas moaned, the intimacy of their joining compounded by the look in his lover's eyes and the possessive words spoken. It was exactly what he had silently wished for, to be claimed along with their child. "No other," he panted, his legs locking around Gildor's hips when the Elf rested completely inside him. "I want... no other. Just you."

"Just us," Gildor breathed just before taking Legolas' mouth in a sweeping kiss. The rhythm he set was slow, deeply personal. His hips moved in the perfect cadence, thrusting with the beat of their hearts mingled with the sound of distant thunder. It was the perfect reconciliation, the ideal reunion, and his hand never left the curve of Legolas' stomach as he rocked in and out.

That single touch to Legolas' belly seemed to heighten all his senses, and he moaned into Gildor's mouth again and again. He could feel the perfect glide of their bodies, could feel the wet brush of Gildor's hair against his face and shoulders, and every drop of water that fell from Gildor's skin to his own was like a jolt of lightening through his hypersensitive system. His doubts and fears regarding Gildor's love of him were scattered to the wind as they moved in tandem, perfectly matched and passionate in their slow intimacy.

Gildor's rhythm began to falter, his breath shuddering against Legolas' lips. His hand finally slid from his lover's belly and wrapped around the eager length pressing against him. "Together," he whispered, stroking Legolas firmly. "Want to... feel us... fly together."

"Together," Legolas echoed, his voice soon lost in a series of moans. All too soon, his length began to swell in Gildor's grasp, and he keened as a peel of thunder joined the pounding in his ears. He bowed against the soft earth, sweat and seed joining with the rain as his release swept through him like a great wave from the sea that he had not yet seen.

As Legolas' body convulsed around him, Gildor's shuddered, and he buried himself to the hilt as he spent himself inside his lover. His shout joined Legolas', offered up to the forest and the stormy sky. His back bowed sharply for a prolonged moment, and then he collapsed against Legolas. He peppered weak kisses over wet skin, a sated smile plastered on his flushed face.

His breath slowly returning to normal along with his heartbeat, Legolas lifted tired arms to encircle Gildor's shoulders. It took some effort to lift his head, but it was more than worth it when he opened his eyes to see such a beautiful expression on his lover's face. "Please stay..."

Gildor brushed back wet strands of spun gold from Legolas' face. "Of course I will stay. I will not abandon you or our child."

Legolas kissed his lover, soft and grateful. "I want you to be here when I... have to give birth. I am afraid, Gildor," he murmured. It was uncommon for Legolas to admit his fears, but he was afraid of the process that would be devised for his unprecedented birthing.

"I would not miss that moment for all the mithril in your father's treasury." Gildor smiled, kissing his way down Legolas' chest.

His spirit soothed by the words and the obvious affection with which they were spoken, Legolas slowly propped himself up onto one of his elbows, his other hand combing loosely through the wet strands of Gildor's hair.

Gildor drew his tongue over the tight flesh of Legolas' belly, his eyes turned upward as his hands cupped the proof of their mating. He pressed feather-light kisses to the swell, smiling up at his lover, his love and excitement there to be seen in the grey depths of his eyes. It was a new adventure, one they would experience together, and at the end of it, they would be a family.

"Our family," he whispered to his child, his eyes holding Legolas' as the rain gradually stopped.

The End

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