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To Wed an Elf	By : LorandTab Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 7111 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter 10

Head bowed, Ellekar leaned against the wide trunk of a glorious elm, its leaves swaying overhead in the slight breeze � a breeze of sweet fragrance that went unnoticed by the weeping man below. "Am I truly such a beast? Such blight upon those of my heart?" He whispered to the bows above between broken sobs. "Forgive me, Alasia."
A gentle hand touched the shoulder of the grieving man as Aragorn spoke softly. �You were a man in love, my friend.� He moved closer to his friend allowing his arm to encircle the broad shoulder in a show of comfort. �Alasia can be happy now in her resting place, save for one thing.� He sighed slowly before continuing. �Her spirit must know that her daughter � the daughter that both of you created, is happy. And Ellekar �� He placed a hand on the scruffy cheek of the man before him, turning his gaze to face him. �Legolas is a good and honorable being. He will see her happy. She loves him, dear friend.� He let the words sink in before repeating them. �He loves her � as she loves him. Can you not see it upon their very faces?�
"Aye. I can see the love. The same love I saw years past." He shook his head as he met Aragorn's eyes, lifting the back of his heavy hand to swipe the river of tears still flowing. "The same love I saw in Alasia's eyes..." Another strangled sob broke from his lips. "Not for me. That love was not for me, Elessar. It was for Thranduil. My daughter is right. I am to blame for Alasia's death, to blame just as surely as if I had..." He could continue, his chest aching so terribly he was certain it would slip in two. "I will try, Elessar.... Try for her."
�And she will come to love you for that, my friend.� Aragorn gave a cleansing exhale as he realized the dam of bitterness had burst inside Ellekar. �She will love you if you allow yourself to love her for what she is � a beautiful extension of your feelings toward her blessed mother.�
"I could not place blame upon her if hove ove were to never shine upon me again, Elessar. She has endured so much by my hand, sins so unforgivable that by rights I should never burden her sight again." He clapped Aragorn roughly on the shoulder then, a sad smile twisting his lips. "You, my friend, are quick to forgive insult. Your heart overflows with faith and hope. Lend some where all is forsaken."
A compassionate gaze fell upon Ellekar�s bleak face, a soft smile beginning as he clasped arms with his kinsman. �You forget, my friend. I have traveled the road of hopelessness and forsaken my people for decades. No one knows better than I the desolation you feel at this moment.� He leaned his face forward, his voice calm and soft. �But also remember, Ellekar. I have seen hopelessness turn to hope in the blink of an eye. I have seen all lost and lived to receive everything life could give to me in the name of happiness. Be at peace! All is not lost! Show her the man I know � she will love you as I do.�

"It is given, my lord." With his simple, but heartfelt words Aragorn had turned the tide of Ellekar's heart replacing the bleak hopelessness. "This gift you have given me will be kept well and nurtured, Elessar. As I have spoke, t�is now a vow. I will try for her."

Aragorn smiled, his heart now at ease. �And soon you will see the fruition of your attempts, my friend. Of this, I am certain.� He embraced his friend warmly. �Now, let us go inside and rest. It has been a most exhausting day.�

"Most exhausting," Ellekar agreed, his words had been of hope but there was still doubt in his heart. Could he truly accept the Mirkwood prince and welcome the union with his daughter. The very thought still churned bitter in his stomach. "Tell me more of the Mirkwood prince, my friend." To know a man was to know his weakness, the same could be said of elven kind. Would he have use for such information, he knew not but he would have it all the same.

�Aye,� Aragorn agreed as the males again mounted the steps of the palace to enter its doors. �That I shall do over a goblet of mead and resting in a soft chair!� With a newfound spring to his step, the king of Gondor guided his friend into the warmth of the palace.

"Trounce about the country side saving Middle Earth, Elessar." He jested, arms thrown around the other man's shoulder in a portrait of camaraderie. "AND you grow soft as your fair and increasing wife."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Aragorn smiled. "Ah, but I have lived the horrors of a thousand men. Is it not fair justice that I should groft nft now?" A chuckle rumbled from his throat as they bantered lightly, the hope inside both men growing.

He had run through the palace, his hand squeezed firmly encasing Falawyn�s in its grip. He had left his father without so much as a by your leave. He had ignored the stunned stares of the working elves as they watched the heir to Mirkwood scurrying past without a thought to propriety. And, in truth, he had no thought of propriety � he had no thoughts at all save being alone with her � with his Falawyn. Pulling her eagerly behind him, he made his way to the hanging gardens on the balcony that covered the fourth tier � the royal living chambers. There, in the privacy of the leaves and flowers � with the light kissing their faces and shining from their eyes, he pulled her tightly into his embrace with one arm as his free hand gently caressed her face. �Can this be real,� he breathed. �Or do I dream?� He pressed his cheek lovingly against the softness of hers. �Did my ears truly hear your declaration of love? Your intent to stay?�

"Aye. I spoke true, my love. �Tis what I want most of all." She leaned into him, her high breast molding perfectly to his chest as she wound her arms around his neck. "I truly love you, Legolas Greenleaf."

His heated breath formed moisture on the delicate skin at the base of her throat, the delicious pulse there beating with the rhythm of his own full heart. �Tell me again, my love. Tell me once more that I might hear it thrice thus knowing it to be real and not a figment of my own deep fantasy.� His tongue�s tip lovingly caressed the increasing pulse.

Musical laughter poured over her full lips filling the air around them. "Oh, Legolas! I love you! So much that my heart is near bursting with it!"

His kiss overtook her then memorizing each and every contour and curve that was the cavern of her heated mouth. His tongue in a dueling spar with hers, he ended the play by pulling her full bottom lip between his teeth, sucking deeply and sensually as he reluctantly released the flesh from its sweet prison. �And I will spend every day of the rest of my life showing you how much love is in my heart for you, dear Falawyn.�

"It is your turn at repeating, my sweet prince." She gasped as his lips left her, leaving them thoroughly plundered. Lowering her head to his chest she purred as she listened to the wild tattooing of his heart.

�I love you � I love you � and again I say, I love you.� He allowed his hand to wind into the beautiful ebony locks that feathered his arm. �I will never miss an opportunity to tell you thus as long as there be breath in my body.� He sighed. �And even after, my love, I will find some way to tell you.�

"I doubt it not, my love." Her laugh turned to an adoring smile as her eyes flowed gently over his visage. Lifting delicate fingers, she fingerd the braid falling near his ear. "Do you recall your request of me, Legolas? My hair?"

A low hum escaped his throat as he nodded gently. �To let it never be bound � to allow all to see the glory that is you � the you that belongs only to me.� His smile was sensual, a sensuality born of complete love.

"And..." Her smile turned sensual also as she continued to caress his hair fingering the small braid. "You spoke to me of my request of you. I know what I would ask of you now."

browbrows knitted in curiosity, his face never losing its beautiful smile. �Anything, my princess. You have only to ask and it will be yours.�

She leaned in to nuzzle along his jaw before speaking, pulling in a deep breath of his earthy elven scent. "�Tis not a grand request, but �tis not a small request, either. �Tis a request that flows from the heart." She sighed, her body warming quickly against his. "I wish you always to have a small part of me with you, to never be separated completely. Take a lock of my hair, my sweet prince, and weave it here." She stroked the braid again, her fingers skimming over the soft woven strands. " Binding us even when parted."

Any past thought toward denying her love melted away as his eye caressed her face with affection. Kissing her tenderly, he moved his body from hers and grasped the smooth wooden handle of his dagger easily unsheathing it. Fingers wrapping around a silken lock at the nape of her neck, the sharp blade easily sliced through the tresses. Kissing the ebony strands, he offered her the lock. �I cut, you braid � it will be a symbol not only of our love but of our determination to work and rule as one after our union.�

Taking the midnight strands from his hand she kissed him swiftly, kissed him with a fiery thirst. Breaking away, she swayed erotically around him, her hand never leaving him�caressing his shoulder, his back and down to his sinewy posterior. Upon tiptoes behind him she whispered, "Kneel for me, my delicious prince."

No simple task as the very words she spoke caused a hardening to begin � his body responding to her with raging force. With a grimace upon his face, he eased down to first one knee, then the other, the painful bulge visible through the soft material of his leggings. �As you wish, my princess,� he said, his voice husky with the desire that was being pent up inside him. �Always as you wish.� His neck leaned back, the crown of his head touching the gentle concave of her stomach. His eyes closed as he imagined his mouth on the smooth flesh there � the flesh he tasted for but a second what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Her eyes consumed him in such a submissive, graceful pose. Inwardly her body became such a riot of need, of flaring desire, that it was all she could do not to moan his name. With seductive slowness she worked the braid loose massaging her fingers along his scalp as the last strands gave way. "I have need of you, my love." She whispered as she set to the task of re-braiding his hair to including her own ebony lock with his.

His body shivered as the warmth of her breath funneled its way down his spine and burrowed inside his very skin. His breathing became labor at the dual stimulation of her words mixed with the tormenting feeling of her fingers on his scalp and through his hair. Proving more and more difficult to keep his rock hard shaft fully into submission, he allowed the sweet pain to encompass him as never before, the very hair on his arms standing with desire. �Indeed, milady,� he breathed almost inaudibly. �In what capacity may I be of service?�

"Your fingers are quite masterful, bowman," she mewled near his ear, punctuating her words with a dainty moan of suppressed yearning. "Is there hope at all that I many feel them upon my skin once more?"

A low, erotic moan escaped him as he struggled to keep his stance straight while she worked. �Always, my love.� With that, he took the hand that was nearest his cheek into his own, pulling it to his lips and kissing it, not with the sweetness of propriety, but with the instincts of a ravenous lover deprived of his love as his tongue traced and memorized every line gracing her palm. �There is ALWAYS hope.�

Her free hand slid from his hair then, caressing along the long elegant line of his neck. "Now, Legolas. I want to feel your touch now." It was a plea that caused a trembling to begin with her traveling out to her limbs. Her eagerness could no longer be conquered.

On one knee he turned, his hands grasping her forearms to pull her level with him. NO thought was given to their openness, to the fact that they stood on the balcony in the light of day. His only thought at that moment was to consume her as she consumed him. Gathering her hair almost roughly into his fist, he pulled her head to his kissing her with ardor and passion as his free hand moved so travel the swells of her breasts that spilt over the elegant neckline of the tunic she wore. Easily slipping his hand under the soft material, he sought the mound that he so craved, allowing his thumb and forefinger to grasp the stiffening peak that was her nipple and gently tugging and pulling it into a sensual frenzy, all the while keeping her head firmly encased in his grip as he continued to devour her sweet mouth, capturing her tongue to suckle it ravenously and without shame.

Wanton passion coursed through her with his manipulation of her swollen, sensitive nipple, her back bowed pressing the high mounds more firmly into his grasp begging more of the luscious attention. Below, in the hollow between her thighs she ached for him mercilessly with wetted heat and tender fleshy folds. She dug her fingers into his shoulders as if she were a bird of prey scrambling for a perch there when the world below spun out of control. Distantly, beyond the fog of volcanic lust, she heard herself pant his name.

It was just the thing to spur the arrows of desire further as the sensitive fingers of the master archer delved swiftly under the folds of her gown maneuvering under the hem to begin its ascent upward, his hand searing her flesh with his imaginary brand as it met the moist heat that was her feminine core. Massaging first quickly, then with maddening slowness, then quickening again, he felt her moistness turn to drenched desire as he fanned the flames of her cravings to match, if not exceed, those of his own. �Tell me,� he said without thought, his voice almost pleading. �Tell me the difficulty of waiting is not solely resting on me.� His mouth bathed her neck and cleavage as he spoke in raspy tones, his hand covered in the essence of her. �Tell me you want me, please!�

"I want you, Legolas. I want you ever so much. I want to feel you surging inside me, bathing my womb with your seed." The words poured from her lips in a string of breathless need. Her hips rocked against his caressing fingers, feeling him skim across the opening to innermost chamber. It would be so easy to breach her, but she also knew he wouldn't. His honor would not allow it and the wait to be truly mated seemed to stretch endlessly before her. "Legolas, speak of your desire for me. Tell me if you burn inside with it."

�Oh, yes, my love,� he said as his hand continued its dance across her most precious mound, the downy hair adhering to his fingers as they slid in random rhythm to make her squirm even more under his touch. �The hardness of my body creates a pain that seems never to ease.� He groaned as the fire throbbing in his groin creating a much-too stiffened state to his member. �And neither will it ever ease until it can be cooled by the juices inside you!� He pressed his hand even harder only minutely aware that he should be careful not to hurt her. �Only the pounding of my body into yours can quench the fire inside me! Can you not feel the steel that your body has created of mine?�

Her hand slid down his arm, to light on his torso and continue downward. She paused only a heartbeat at the indention of his waist, wanting to touch him more than breath, but nervousness clutched her. It was fleeting and fickle and gone as quickly as it came and her hand eased slowly towards the thickness between his thighs, closing over him in awed reverence. "I feel it, my prince. Tell me," she gasped, feeling the first telltale tremors of her womb that signaled her impending release. "You are large, so very large. Will you fit well inside me? Will I be a good sheath to your sword?" She smiled almost innocently. �A good quiver to your arrow?"

�Aye,� he breathed heavily, his hand quickening to hasten her release. �Please, do not be afraid. I feel certain that our bodies will meld together in a way that none will ever know � your body stretched to its limit so tightly over mine that sweet torture will occur.� He leaned his face into her neck, his teeth nibbling at her skin as his hand labored even faster. �But imagine the slick, wondrous feel as my flesh slides inside you, pounding � searching for that moment of bliss as we travel to paradise, our bodies connected as we reach our haven together � over and over and over again.� His own body screamed for relief as he spoke, the scent of her essence sending him reeling.

With the promise of reoccurring ecstasy looming before her, her mind filled with the images of Legolas laboring over her body, his torso sweat slicked and taunt, his hips meeting hers to lift her from their bed causing the dam of stoked passion to break away. A multitude of vibrant colors burst behind her closed eyes as the convulsions of her womb took over. His name was a path of easily laid endearments that left her in a hoarse shout.

With a long, loud moan, he marveled at the intensity of her relief, yet squirmed at the sweet torture of his lack of it. Slowly removing his hand from her body, he continued to plunder any and all exposed feminine skin with his mouth and tongue as the hand he used to give her to much pleasure moved to slide snugly under the waist of his leggings, marking a downward path to his aching, bulging flesh. If he could not have her legs wrapped around him in euphoric pleasure, then at least he could bathe his most intimate of flesh in her essence � essence that he brought forth � he and no other.

"No!" She stirred from her sated lethargy laying her strengthless hand over his atop the leggings stilling his first intense strokes. "I wish to do this for you. I wish to ease your ache, my love," she whispered, laying a tender loving kiss at the corner of his firmly set mouth. " I know we may not join fully. I know that I may not lay my eyes upon your....your..." For a moment she stumbled over the right wording for that part of him that made him so masculine, so male. Finally, she settled on something similar to the references the matrons had made to their men among her father's people. "Your member � but surely there is a way I can touch as long as I do not see."

His voice was filled with the gravelly tones of one who has met the face of frustration and has found no way to defeat it. �Were I to be thinking fully I am most certain that we could entertain a myriad of way � yet now, I regret to say I can only think of one that would leave us able to wed according to elvish custom.� The veins in his neck protruded heavily, his head falling onto her shoulder in a silent plea to allow him to give himself relief. �Please, Falawyn �� he breathed huskily. �Please!�
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To Wed an Elf