Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Fifteen Years	By : Ertia Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 14168 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Not my garden, I just play in it. Ah, but isn't it full of such lovely
flowers to play with?
Fifteen Years
Chapter 18: Conflict and Desires
They reached the southern outpost with the setting of the sun. Legolas dismounted wearily. The ride was lovely, but long, and even without the strain of his quiver and bow, the harness of the knives had rubbed a raw spot on his shoulders. Still, he had to admit that this section of the borders was beautiful.
Surrounding the tight collection of talans were the carefully tended groves that supplied Caras Galadhron with much of it's foodstuffs. Here, natural gatherings of walnut, almond, pecan and hazelnut trees, thickets of apple, peach and pear, and deep groves of elderberry and gooseberry bushes all were tended with the loving skill of the Elves, such that many of the trees bore fruit year 'round.
Extending past the borders of the forest, into the crisp sunlit grassy slopes, stretched the rich oak trees bearing their tough acorns and the wild tangles of wine grapes that the Elves also tended and harvested. Legolas smiled as the golden sunset brought with it the breeze rich with the growing smells of spring. Before him, the Warden of the Southern Borders was greeting Haldir and Celeborn, a basket of tiny sweet berries in his hand.
Celeborn called Legolas foreward and introduced him to Santgalas, Warden of the Southern Marches and Head of the orchards of Lothlorien. Santgalas was tall, even for an elf, standing a good three inches taller even than Celeborn, but he was very spare and slight, and his hair was so blond it was almost white. Legolas thought he had never seen such a pale elf, but the hand that held out the basket of berries was strong, the tendons corded with the long work of carefully tending the forest and defending it's riches and the green eyes that met his were filled with laughter.
Santgalas gave Legolas a perky grin, "Try these, Master Courtesan! They are the sweetest of the new berries." Then he gave Celeborn a conspiratorial wink. "Nay, we already sent the sweetest on to our Lady. These are the second sweetest!"
Celeborn laughed and clapped Santgalas' shoulder. "As though she could tell the difference. You and your workers deserve the sweetest fruits for your labors! But do send on the best peaches when they ripen."
Haldir and Santgalas laughed at that leaving Legolas to wonder what the inside joke was, but Celeborn shrugged it off with a wry smile.
Santgalas gestured towards a low pavillion in the grass. "We've had a meal laid for you, and we can talk further at your liesure."
Legolas started to remove his knives to leave them with the rest of his gear but Celeborn laid a hand on his arm. "Keep them for now, Courtesan. I like the way they look."
Legolas complied with a nod, although his sore shoulder troubled him as he served his lords meal. He was beginning to feel the effects of his own weariness and hunger when Celeborn touched his arm lightly. "Sarnlass, eat and rest for a bit. I am going to the waterfall for a swim. Santgalas can show you the way. Will you not, 'Galas? "
Santgalas gave Celeborn a conspiratorial wink as the lord rose, gesturing Legolas to take his place. "I certainly can, my lord. We will join you presently."
Legolas sank down gratefully as Celeborn turned to Haldir. "Will you join us as well, Haldir?"
Haldir cocked his head for a moment, meeting his lords gaze steadily and then gave a respectful nod, "I must inspect the outer defenses this evening, My Lord. By your leave, of course."
Celeborn paused, his gaze searching, but Haldir met his eyes and held them in complete silence.
"Very well, Haldir." And there was nothing further said on the matter as Celeborn strode from the pavillion. After a moment, Haldir set aside his still half-full plate and excused himself, striding off in the other direction.
Santgalas sighed and cocked one eyebrow at Legolas, saying dryly, "I've always admired the March Warden's ... sense of duty."
Legolas nearly choked on his wine, but managed to say calmly, "I, also, find his dedication inspiring."
They met eyes over the table and Santgalas gave a relieved smile. "Then we understand one another."
"Perfectly." Legolas finished his bread and cheese and gave the Warden a smile. "Now, I believe there was something said about a swim?"

The waterfall dropped from a low cliff, shaded by ferns and moss, into a deep pool. Beneath the running water, Celeborn swam, his silver hair splayed across his shoulders, his toned body flashing in the glinting light of the rising moon.
"Now that..." Santgalas whispered to Legolas as he as at last unbuckled his knife harness, "Is possibly the most inspiring sight I have ever seen."
Legolas shrugged away his harness and unfastened his trousers, his eyes on the body of his lord, sleek and glistening as he swam towards them. "Once more, Warden, I find myself in complete agreement with you."
Celeborn waved to them and Santgalas dove neatly into the pool to surface near his lord, his hair and skin gleaming white. Looking at their pale countenances, Legolas felt he must be nearly dark as an orc as he waded into the water, finding it refreshingly cold after the long days ride. The three swam for a while, Legolas mostly letting the cool water sooth his sore shoulders and enjoying the moments of relaxation from duty.
But it was not long before Celeborn swam close and caught him from behind in a strong embrace. "Come, Sarnlass. Let us reward my faithful warden for his duty."
Legolas glanced up and saw Santgalas swimming to them, a smile on his face. Legolas gave the only answer he could. "Yes, of course, my lord."
Taking him by the wrist, Celeborn led him from the pool to stand dripping wet upon the grassy shore. Turning for a moment, he picked up a small sack and then turned back to Legolas. "Sarnlass, you must trust me."
Without hesitation, Legolas looked into his lords face. "I do."
Santgalas' hand rested suddenly on his shoulder, his voice softly inquiring, "And I as well, Sarnlass?"
Legolas shivered, but nodded. There was something about this Elf that he did trust, and not just out of their agreeing opinion of Haldir. He found his voice and replied softly, "I will trust you, Santgalas."
Celeborn nodded then, and approached, pulling from the sack a long strip of black cloth. Standing in front of Legolas, he raised it over his eyes, handing the ends to Santgalas. Legolas stood still as he was blindfolded, and then each arm was taken and he was led slowly from the river bank until he felt soft moss beneath his bare feet.

"Kneel." The order came from Santgalas, and Legolas tilted his head, trying to discern exactly where the warden stood. Then his wrists were taken and arms raised until the guiding hands took his fingers and closed them about something wooden. Legolas wrapped his fingers around the sturdy supports, recognizing them instantly as two of the strong young elder saplings that bordered the stream's edges. Santgalas' voice cautioned softly, "Do not let go."
Legolas nodded his understanding. He took a deep breath to steady himself, bringing in the night air of the forest, the scents of rich moss and loam overlayed with the blossoms of tender spring. Steadied, he waited, silent, his every sense straining to make up for the loss of sight. A hand trailed down his back, but he knew not who's it was. Another was lifting his hair up, twisting it onto his head and pinning it in place. This done, it slipped across his forehead, stroked his cheek in a familiar manner; ah, this was Celeborn then. So that must be Santgalas behind him.
He heard a chuckle and realized that Celeborn must have been following his thoughts as both sets of hands left him. There was silence again, and then a brushing touch to his chest and another down his side, across his ribs. The hands continued, slightly teasing, stroking across his body so lightly that it tickled. When one slipped low across his stomach, it was too much and he squirmed. His reward was a shocking blow across his back that left him gasping. What was that? A riding crop?
"Breathe." Santgalas' voice carried to his ears and he obediently sucked air into his surprised lungs. The fingers resumed their paths, teasing across his entire body, except for the one place he was beginning to truly wish they would actually tease. As a hand trailed lightly up the outside of his thigh, Legolas twisted slightly in an attempt to bring his burgeoning erection into contact with it.
This time, though, he was better prepared when the stinging blow came. There was the sharp exhalation of breath and he relaxed into the pain, letting it take him to the deep places within himself that he knew it could. Deliberately, he thrust again, this time rewarded with the brush of solid flesh before the strike came, quickly followed by another.
"Misbehavior will not be rewarded." Santgalas' voice was low, but there was a hint of amusement in the tones.
"I think, dear Warden," Celeborn replied, "That depends on what is considered a reward."
Legolas suddenly felt hands cup his cheeks, tilting his face. He could smell the musky earth scent of Santgalas, as the Warden expertly pressed the joints of his jaw, opening his mouth wide. "I would consider this a reward."
And he sunk his own hard flesh deep into Legolas' mouth. Legolas would have smirked had his mouth not been full. As it was, he responded by running his tongue along the underside of the firm flesh, closing his cheeks and sucking deeply.
Even as he did so, a set of blows rained onto his back, and he found himself moaning around the fullness in his mouth, clenching his fingers into the young trees to hold himself upright. Santgalas' hands tightened on his cheeks. "Keep sucking."
Legolas obeyed, and soon discovered that Celeborn had found a rhythm to his blows, allowing Legolas time to breathe and enough of a pattern that he could continue to stimulate Santgalas in time with the strokes. The pain became one with the movements, with Santgalas' erection stroking across his tongue, into his throat, and Legolas found himself rocking slightly, his arms flexing to support him as he was thrown forward by each burning strike and then pushed back by Santgalas' thrusts.

It became his world, that entire moment caught between the two powerful elves, one giving, one taking. He surrendered totally, unaware of the tears that slipped from his eyes, soaked the blindfold as the pain began to seep into the very core of his body. His own arousal was throbbing in time to the blows. Droplets of Santgalas' seed began to flavor his mouth and he suckled with tongue and lips trying to gain more. Then, abrubtly, the blows stopped and Legolas cried out around the flesh in his mouth.
Celeborn's hands grabbed his wrists and pulled them from the saplings, rocking his body back against Celeborn's kneeling form, his head across Celeborn's shoulder as Santgalas followed their movements, taking advantage of the new angle to push himself deep into Legolas' throat as he came in hard spurts, his voice lifting a soft cry to the winds. Legolas swallowed convulsively, the hot seed pouring down his throat. He was slightly disappointed that he had not been allowed the pleasure of it filling his mouth, tasting fully of Santgalas. The thougt was fleeting and was overwhelmed moments later.
Santgalas stood back, as Legolas knelt, his body supported by his Lord kneeling behind him. Then he was pushed forward onto his hands and knees and left alone for a moment, bereft of all contact. Ears straining, his body crying out for relief from both his painful arousal and the stinging pain in his back, he waited as patiently as he could for his masters to return to him.
A sharp pain at his left nipple caused his arms to buckle, but he quickly pushed himself back up, wheezing as he tried to breathe past the pain, tried to incorporate it into the sweet agony he had known only moments before. The pain eased, then returned as a powerful ache. He tried to be silent but was aware of the groan that escaped him. Lips touched the tip of his ear, before a voice whispered, "Very good. Two more."
His right nipple blossomed in pain and he cried, his arms trembling with the effort not to drop to the cool moss and curl up around the pain. One hand gently caressed the back of his neck as another slid between his legs, gently stroking his flagging erection. Slowly, the pain abated to a deep aching and Legolas moaned, hanging his head. He was trembling, fighting with his entire being to hold himself up, to not show his weakness.
He thrust into the fingers that gently stroked his erection, begging for deeper contact, letting the pleasure overtake the pain. The fingers obeyed for a moment, as another hand stroked his bottom and slid down to stroke his testicles. Legolas sighed, the pleasure coming to the forefront again. The hand at his buttocks slid deeper, a finger finding his opening and teasing it before slipping slowly in.
Legolas moaned again, but this time it was in pleasure. So caught up in the pleasure he was experiencing that he missed the click as the mithril ring closed around the base of his erection. "AI!"

His only answer was a soft chuckle as he felt hands reach to steady his quaking body. Then he felt the slick pressure of his lord's oiled erection press against him and whimpered. Santgalas soothed him with tender touches to his face and chest, carefully avoiding the tormenting clamps on his nipples. Celeborn's grasped his hips, adjusting his angle slightly, and then thrust forward. Only Santgalas' hands on Legolas' shoulders kept him from collapsing.
"Does that hurt, pretty?" Santgalas asked softly, before lightly tweaking on of the clamps. Legolas cried out, and Celeborn tightened his grasp as Santgalas murmured, "Not so bad, is it? And so good in the end. So good."
Legolas felt Santgalas' lips at his own and allowed the kiss, reaching his tongue to tease Santgalas closer. Anything to distract him from the aching in his body, from the throbbing of the blood that burned through his veins with Lord Celeborn's every stroke. Then Celeborn was coming, pounding into him. Legolas' shaking arms gave out at last and he was surprised at Santgalas' strength as the lean elf supported him against the force of Celeborn's tremoring release.

Legolas collapsed against Santgalas, his body trembling with unreleased need as Celeborn gently withdrew from him, but Santgalas moved away slightly, lowering Legolas to the mossy ground and rolling him onto his back. "Would you like your release now, pretty?"
It took his muddled brain a moment to understand the question. "Saes, yes, now..."
Lips closed over his and he realized it was Celeborn, and surrendered to the force of the kiss. A hot mouth closed over his erection and Legolas moaned, trying to writhe closer. Celeborn raised his mouth and murmured, "Ah..patience now."
Legolas tossed his head, only to have his mouth recaptured in a bruising kiss. The moss was soothing on his burning back, but the clamps on his nipples seemed to strengthen their hold until he could barely breathe, his entire body wanting nothing more than release from all of it's torments.
There was a pause and Legolas felt as though something silent passed between Celeborn and Santgalas, then he was lost as the mouth closed over his erection once more, this time in deep, rhythmic movements. Celeborn's tongue thrust into his mouth, and at once, Legolas felt the mithril ring released. He screamed into Celeborn's mouth, his pleasure finally sweeping away the torment. He felt his stomach tense, felt the ripple of release coming onto him and screamed aloud as the clamps at his chest were roughly torn away. Writhing, wailing into Celeborn's mouth, he thrust out his orgasm at last into Santgalas' skilled and willing mouth.

Panting, tears streaming unashamed, the soaked blindfold clinging wetly to his face, Legolas lay in the moss, his head supported on Celeborn's arm and Santgalas' arms around his waist in comfort. He had never been so undone before. Not in all of the games he had played with Epheral, not with any one of a hundred lovers he had ever taken. He was completely taken; utterly surrendered.

He wanted to curl up and rest, wanted to let this moment be still in his memory that he could relish and process it later. But suddenly, Santgalas tensed beside him. A second later, Celeborn, too, tensed, and then both Elves were springing up.
"Smoke!" Santgalas' voice was panicked. Celeborn helped Legolas to sit up, swiftly removing the blindfold.
"Come! The orchards!" Santgalas was already dressing, his face panicked.
Celeborn pulled Legolas to his feet and placed a swift kiss on his cheek. "Stay and rest, Sarnlass."
But Legolas shook his head. He could smell the smoke himself now, and reached trembling hands for his trousers and knife harness. Celeborn was fastening his tunic and turned back, his expression regretful, "Nay, Sarnlass. It is not necessary. You've done enough this day."
Sarnlass was already slipping away as the Mirkwood Prince responded as he always would to danger. "I am coming."
Celeborn seemed taken aback for a moment, then nodded before turning to follow Santgalas throug the wood at a run. They could see the flames as they broke from the woods edge. The oak trees that gave up their acorns each fall were rolling with flames. Haldir was already there, marshalling the elves who were creating bucket brigades and trying to space firelanes.
The flames broke from tree to tree as though commanded by some will, and Legolas could soon see that the battle was to be hard won, if won at all. He joined the elves trying to build a fire break by clearing away dead brush and old branches as soot rained down on them, and the borders edges filled with rushing elves, and the sounds of cries and crackling flames.
Before his team, a mighty oak reared her majestic head. She was a weak link, Legolas realized immediately. Flames that reached her sap-rich leaves would be able to leap over her and into the mallorns at the forest edges. The elves he was working with also stopped, eyeing the tree and the swiftly rolling flames.
"Haldir!" Legolas cried to the March Warden as he strode past, and Haldir turned. Seeing the mighty oak tree, her ancient arms spread wide towards both the forest and the flames, his eyes widened in understanding.
There were no words to be said. Indeed, Legolas doubted Haldir could find them even if there were. The March Warden merely gestured to one of the elves using an axe to clear dead wood away and took the tool in hand. With a sigh, Legolas took up another axe and they approached the beautiful tree.
Swiftly, wordlessly, they began to strike. Legolas felt his eyes fill once more with tears as he prayed to the Valar for salvation from such needless destruction. As the great tree trembled, his own hands trembled, and he glance to Haldir.
Tears streamed down the MarchWarden's face as he rained blow after blow against the sturdy trunk. Raising his head, he caught Legolas' own bleary gaze. His voice was a battle command, filled with anguish. "For Lorien."
Legolas followed the March Warden's glance towards the great mallorn trees that must be protected at all costs. The Prince raised his head and met Haldir's eyes, his voice strong for all the sorrow it held. "For Lorien."
They both leaped back as the proud oak tree was felled, weeping bitter tears as other elves rushed forward to wrap ropes around the fallen corpse and drag her from the flames.

TA DA!!!!!!!!!
-----------------------------------
My darling readers!

I am so sorry about the length of time between updates this month! I had some real life stuff that couldn't be solved by hiding under Celeborn's bed. I promise it will never happen again!

I haven't time for individual acknowledgements this week, sadly. :( But I dooooo hope you enjoyed this chapter. I think, (and I'm aware I'm very biased) that this is one of my absolutely FAVORITES. :D
- 17
- 18
- 19
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Fifteen Years