Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Arcane Land	By : alpham31 Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2529 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine, and neither are its characters. I make no money with my writing. This story was written for the simple pleasure of it.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
Warning: explicit sex

CHAPTER 21: Divine Inspiration

The next day found Elladan and Melven on the training grounds together with The Company. Pengon and Ram en’ had them scurrying through the trees in an attempt to improve what so far had proved to be their weak spot, as Legolas well remembered, as he resisted the urge to prod his cheekbone.

He stood off to the side, watching as they received instruction, and then fell to the unyielding ground, again and again.

Barathon moved up beside him then, glancing briefly at his cousin before turning to the training elves he so longed to be with, although he would not admit that.

“My Lord,” acknowledged Barathon, to which Legolas replied with a “My Prince.”

Just then, Elladan’s foot slid once more and he plummeted to the ground with a thud that made Legolas wince. Yet the silence surprised him, and so he turned to his cousin.

Barathon had not laughed and Legolas wondered at his motivation. Was he simply aiming at scoring points or was it a genuine attempt to breach the gap between them? For since dinner the evening before, his cousin was simply, unrecognizable.

Barathon’s eyes glanced down for a moment, knowing exactly what his cousin was thinking. ‘Why did he always have to think badly of him? Could he not, for once, assume that his motivations were innocent, void of selfish interest?’ They were not, of course, but Legolas did not know that.

“’Do not worry, my Lord. Tis surely just a passing phase. I am sure I will be back to my old self soon enough,” he said arrogantly, his usual snide sarcasm pushing its way to the fore. Yet it was forced, and Legolas had had a glimpse of what lay beneath, and now, he was intrigued.

…………………………………………………………….

He had ambled around the grounds for the rest of the morning. However, he had overestimated his strength, and a powerful urge to sleep took him, as another twinge to his shoulder reminded him he had not taken his herbs. He made his way back to the fortress, bowing and smiling as he went until he was finally before his door, through it, on his bed, and fast asleep, clothes, boots and crown included, and not even Thandion’s knocking a while later could stir him.

Antien had sent him to Legolas’ rooms to check on him and leave him with the supplies he would need. When he had told the junior healer where he was to go, he had had the distinct impression that his master was smirking; Antien never smirked, in all the years he had known him, and Thandion had squirmed uncomfortably, suspecting that the master healer knew exactly of his piteous, futile worshipping of the Forest Lord. But he simply could not help it; every time he saw the king, his legs would wobble, his body would tingle and his eyes would slide half shut with just a cursory glimpse of the glorious visage. Antien did not suspect, nay, he knew, had said as much the day before, yet Thandion had held to hope that his yearning had not been so visible, that he had been skilled enough to hide it – and now, those vain hopes were shattered.

Opening the door slowly, he poked his head around the thick wood, calling out timidly to its occupant.

“My Lord?”

No answer, and so he crept inside, making his way to the bed chamber, and craning his neck around the door. There, sprawled most sensuously on the bed, was the object of his desire, and his eyes opened wide as he registered the details that had sent one, unanimous message to his groin. Legolas was fully clothed, yet his bare thighs were visible under the twisted skirt, as was half of his bare chest, defined as no other he had seen in all his years of apprenticeship - so well-muscled, the emerald piercing twinkling in the waning light blasting through the open window, as if beckoning him to suck at the nipple it hugged. His good arm was out to the side, his beautiful hair fanning around him in a halo of thick, liquid silk and intricate braids, the different textures both delighting and inviting his tingling, eager fingers to stroke and caress the treasure. His face was placid, his lips slightly parted, his eyes – closed? ‘What was he thinking? What kind of healer was he? To take in such details and not realize that this elf needed attention – he felt shame then, as he floated into the room and placed his fingers at the Lord’s neck, relaxing somewhat when he found a steady, strong pulse.

He was asleep, deeply so – this was the sleep of one exhausted, and so he limited himself to lovingly removing his beautiful boots and the crown upon his brow. As the precious metal came away, he watched - mesmerized as the symbol of office brushed over the braids atop his head and he suddenly found himself only inches from the face he adored so much. ‘Would he notice?’ he wondered, if he just placed one, feather-light touch of his lips to these? And that was the first image that Legolas came, literally, face to face with. He had felt the ghost of a breeze over his face and had startled awake. He jumped back in surprise, which in turn startled Thandion, who fell backwards, stumbled and clattered to the floor in a heap of tunic and apron. He just sat there for a moment, his face set in an expression of utter incomprehension – what had just happened?

It was then that the splendorous face moved in front of him, his amused expression mixed with a modicum of concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

“Uh, yes, my Lord, forgive me, for I….”

He was interrupted as Legolas pressed his lips softly to those of the stuttering healer, watching as his eyes bulged and then his lids drooped as his pupils lost focus. He could not believe what was happening to him, for the most desired of all elves was kissing him softly on the lips, sending his body into a frenzy of reactions he simply could not control.

Legolas moved away then, observing the lovely healer as he sat frozen to the spot. He smiled indulgently as he stood and offered a hand down to the disoriented Thandion, who took it slowly, and now stood before this great warrior. He was unsure of his next move, and it showed, for he felt a soft, warm hand on his cheek.

“You desire me,” said the lord softly yet unequivocally.

Looking at him now, Thandion realized there was nothing for it but to confess his devotion, he had given himself away and Legolas had given him a consolation kiss for sure.

However, the lord moved in once more, and this time the kiss was more demanding - not the kiss of one who felt pity, but the caress of one who sought pleasure. Thandion, still disbelieving his luck, smiled into it, answering as best he could, feeling his body turning to liquid where he stood.

“I desire you, my Lord, forgive my arrogance but I cannot help myself.”

Legolas moved his face away, enough to speak and watch his would-be lover.

“I can offer only sex, Thandion, and friendship, but I cannot love you, for my heart is taken. Is this what you want?”

“Your friendship is more than I could ever have dreamed of, my Lord, and the sex I would humbly accept, yet I am dumbfounded that you would take me to your bed, my King.”

“And why is that? Hum? You are lovely, Thandion has no one ever told you that?”

“The truth? Nay, not like that, not from one such as you, my Lord.”

“Thandion, we are alone here, call me Legolas, if you will.”

“Very well,” he answered lamely, for the healer could only whisper - his body was rigid, his heart was racing, he would surely explode if he did not find release soon.

Legolas, too, was aroused now, for his new lover’s reaction to his invitation had him hard and ready, and so he moved in once more and whispered into the healer’s ear.

“Do you want me then?” he asked saucily, for he needed to lighten the mood and get down to the business that had them both so aroused now.

“I want you, Legolas,” he said uncertainly, “but you cannot have sex in your current condition, you will jostle your ribs.”

“Hum,” he said as he nuzzled an ear lobe, “then what do you suggest, healer?” he whispered.

“Let me pleasure you? Let me watch you.”

“And what of you?” he asked, kissing down the long, elegant neck.

“I, I will find my pleasure,” he gasped with difficulty, “and if you see fit - to see me again once you are - sufficiently healed, then I would - like nothing more than for you to take me hard, over and over again,” he said more forcefully now, and Legolas liked it, for he thought he saw a glimpse of mischief, a glimmer of voluntary submission, a game that he enjoyed so very much.

“Come,” said Thandion, pushing Legolas carefully back until his body met with the stone wall behind. Moving in, Thandion allowed himself to tilt his head up to meet the wondrous lips he had so often dreamt of caressing. The touch was more than he could bear, his body reacting acutely by sending a jolt of desire through his limbs that was almost painful.

Sucking in his breath and closing his watering eyes, he move forward once more, moving his lips over those of this, paradigm of elven beauty, smiling into the kiss as he was reciprocated mot skillfully, his lover opening his mouth and gasping sensuously into Thandion’s mouth.

Growing bolder by the moment, the healer raised his hands and placed them on the powerful flanks, feeling the rich velvet of his skirt, yet now yearning for the silken flesh below. What a treat, what a wonderful gift to touch this elven warrior, this prince, this king of unrivalled beauty. Thandion was panting as his mind raced and his hands became more demanding as they slid below the skirts and touched hard flesh for the first time. His hands slid down the hard, muscled thighs, only to come back up until one hand cupped the cloth-covered sex that lay at their juncture, eyes widening at the feel of rock hard flesh, lying over the taught balls below.

A moan escaped him as he looked up again, finding Legolas staring down at him with eyes that sparkled and smoldered. Taking the chestnut hair in the fist of his good arm, Legolas bent down and ravished the lips that had, just moments before, kissed him so tenderly, before thrusting his tongue deep inside the warm cavity, showing Thandion what he would do, when he was able. Moving his hand down the healer’s flank, he cupped the hard cock, straining what must have been uncomfortably inside the breaches below the healer’s tunic. Thandion gasped loudly as he moved into the touch, rubbing himself unashamedly against his lover’s adorned hand and wrist, now moaning wantonly as he grappled with his tunic and the laces that tied his breaches together.

Finally free, Legolas slipped his hand inside, latching on to the hard cock and rubbing his thumb over its tip.

“Oh, please, no, too soon,” he whined pitifully as he sank to his knees and thrust his hands under Legolas’ skirts, finding the cloth that covered him and swiping it to one side, finally coming face to face with the cock he so wanted. It was big, and so hard that the thick phallus jutted upwards, displaying his full, round balls, literally making his mouth water.

Legolas leaned back against the cool stone, closing his eyes as he felt his groin exposed. He glanced down at his kneeling lover who held his skirts aloft, now staring at his cock. He smiled then, bracing himself for the first touch of those sinful lips enveloping him, his hand resting on the back of the healer’s head.

“Come, taste me…” he said softly.

His only answer was a tortured moan as he took the hard flesh to his lips, before pushing forward, not stopping until the tip was down his throat. He was rewarded by a groan of pleasure as his lover opened his legs to steady himself. Thandion was in bliss, his mouth filled, his chin caressing the balls of his royal lover; there was nothing in this world that could please him more than what he did now. All his adult life, since his first encounter with sex, he had realized that this act of sucking a lover to completion was what gave him the most pleasure. He knew it was not common, others preferring to give or take and Thandion was just fine with that too, but this – this was unsurpassable.

Legolas was now moaning with abandon, for this elf was most skilled. He licked and sucked noisily, his abundant saliva slicking him, and he was reminded of Gildor, for he too, was inordinately well-versed in this practice. Yet what now had him panting hard, trying desperately not to thrust his hips, was the fact that Thandion was, himself, in a frenzy of sexual ecstasy – it seemed to Legolas that his lover was finding the greatest of pleasure by sucking him, and it was pushing him to the very brink of his legendary endurance.

Thandion felt the cock in his mouth stiffen even further and knew his lover’s release was imminent, and so he thrust one hand into his own, gaping breeches and began to pump himself hard, gasping and moaning as he moved his head back and forth, scraping flesh with teeth and tongue until his lover moaned with such delight he could take no more. With his other hand, the healer pumped the cock, leaving the tip inside his mouth, feeling the column as it pulsated and then, finally, his reward was released with the most beauteously long moan, the hot liquid gushing into his mouth as he worked the flesh, softer now, until there was nothing left, for it was inside his mouth, running down his chin, covering one hand which he now used to take himself to ecstacy, his lover’s essence now coating his own cock as he sat back and thrust into his own hand again and again. Legolas watched him as his face contorted and his mouth opened to release a wailing cry as his head fell back and his seed spilled copiously over his pumping fist. The orgasm was long, and noisy, and Legolas was almost tempted to take himself in hand, so erotic was the scene before him, but that, he knew, would be pushing his luck, for his shoulder was already throbbing mercilessly, informing him in no uncertain terms that it had been pushed back against the wall for long enough.

Pushing himself away from it, he moved to stand over his still kneeling lover, watching as he struggled to calm his racing heart, for his orgasm had been most intense. Offering his good hand down to him, he pulled Thandion up for the second time that afternoon and kissed him upon the cheek, pulling back a little to smile.

“That was a mighty display, healer…” he drawled, smirking as he moved away into the bathing room.

As Legolas exited the bathing room, his lover passed by on his way inside, brushing his hand over that of Legolas as he smiled and disappeared through the doorway. Once inside, he moved over to the jug of water and poured it into the large bowl, washing himself absent-mindedly. Looking into the mirror before him, he smiled at his own contented face, and then beamed as a cat before a trout. He had sucked Legolas Thranduilion, and that was something he was never going to forget.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Tomorrow, The Company would ride once more, yet this time, Hwindo would not be with them. It was not the first time and it would certainly not be the last, yet it was always a strange sensation for this elf, born a warrior.

Dinner had been somewhat subdued, and Barathon had been mercifully quiet, and now, Legolas strolled through the grounds of the fortress together with Elladan, Melven and Galdithion.

“We missed you at lunchtime, Legolas,” prompted Elladan, sparing a sideways glance with Galdithion, who simply smirked and looked away. As Legolas’ guard, it was his business to know where he was at all times.

“Ah yes, I was, somewhat tired after an over-zealous walkabout. I retired to my rooms,” he said nonchalantly with a flourish of his hand. However, it was Galdithion who elucidated.

“Indeed, it seems that sleep eluded you, my friend,” he said playfully, glancing at Elladan and then Melven, a naughty smile on his amused face.

“Ah, and that is where you are wrong,” retorted Legolas. “I slept most deeply, until I was interrupted most sweetly, Galdithion.”

“Oh?” he replied. Did the healer sweaten the brew with a little honey then?”

Melven snickered as Elladan smirked, wondering where their banter would lead.

“Actually, it was I who…”

“Stop! Stop!! Alright, my attempt at mortification has failed, but I have no intention of hearing of your exploits in the bedchamber, Legolas!” cried Galdithion.

“Legolas, do you never stop? I mean, how many lovers do you have, for the love of Elbereth?” asked Elladan, mock exasperation on his face.

“Are you jealous, dear Noldo? As to your question, as many as I can get, my friend, as many as I can get,” he smiled as his eyes twinkled with mirth.

“He means, Elladan, around thee or four – dozen!” exclaimed Galdithion, throwing his arms into the air. “I mean how is a poor guard to watch his back, precisely? For…”

“Ai, Galdithion! Don’t – don’t! chuckled Elladan, his gay laughter drawing them all to giggling.

“I will miss your company, my friends,” said Legolas, as he raised a hand to the low-hanging branch of a beech tree, caressing its green leaves softly, replying to its unspoken request.

“I confess it will be strange, riding without you, Legolas,” said Elladan, glancing at his friend and smirking, yet he meant what he said, it would indeed be strange.

“Dimaethor is more than capable of guiding you, yet this you already know of course,” he replied wistfully.

“Aye, and yet he is not you, Hwindohtar, and this, of course, you already know.”

Legolas stared for a while, watching his friend’s face, reading the expressions that graced his lovely features.

“I, my friend, am doomed to the life of a courtier, for a few weeks at least, Galdithion will tell you that it is a life fraught with danger, for there is much drinking, sex, arguing and negotiating.. ‘tis a hard life, Elladan, one I am no longer used to.”

Galdithion snorted loudly then, for if he knew anything at all, it was that his friend and lord thrived on these things – he would be in paradise while his own lover was gone, off to the centre of the Greenwood. However, his injuries would hinder him for at least the first week, and it would be Galdithion’s job to encourage him to sleep and care for himself, a job he would carry out with relish, for if not for these brief interludes, what then, would life be but a continuous monologue of pain and suffering?

“Then suffer not in silence, my friend, for you are with Galdithion, no better company could you wish for,” he said, his eyes straying to the face he knew he would miss sorely on this, his second foray into the forest.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Later that night, unable to sleep, Legolas sat at his desk in his sleeping chamber, several parchments before him, yet only one unfinished.

Your son rides out tomorrow, without me to look out for him. I commend him then to the care of Dimaethor. May Yavanna watch over him, Elrond, for he is dear to me, noble, empathic, of sturdy heart and agile mind, so like you, my love…

He sighed as he leaned back in his chair. He missed his Noldor lovers fiercely, and the recognition of it sent a painful wave of yearning to his heart.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Morning brought the farewell ritual as The Company departed on their mission into the centre of the Greenwood, although both Legolas and Galdithion had made their personal farewells the night before, and Legolas was now to be found in the king’s offices, father, son and chief advisor sitting together to discuss the matters of council.

“Aradan, what is the order of the day, pray tell?” asked the king, more for Legolas’ benefit than his own, for it had been a few years since his son had participated in the politics of the realm. He would be out of touch with the latest intrigues and ploys.

“There is some concern over the number of engagements with orcs, and it will be good to have Legolas here with us, to update them on this point,” said Aradan carefully, his shrewd eyes straying to Thranduil.

“However,” began the king, “it would, perhaps, be wise not to be too – explicit – in your explanation, Legolas – at least not until we know the reasons…”

“Perhaps, and yet the incoming casualties will soon increase, causing alarm if we underplay what is happening out there, we may lose credibility for it. Perhaps a compromise between real numbers and the reassurance that the situation is being handled effectively?”

“Yes, good,” smiled the king, glad that his son had not forgotten his years of diplomatic training.

“Alright, so, orcs and … anything else?” asked Legolas, for so far, it all seemed surprisingly straight forward.

“There is the issue of the dairy product dispute, but I do not advise you to get involved in that, ‘tis far too convoluted for you to intervene without previous study on the matter,” said Aradan, putting off the inevitable, even if it was only for a few, blessed seconds.

“And…,” prompted Legolas, knowing there would be more.

“Well,” began Aradan, immediately bringing Legolas back to attention.

“There are certain sectors that are moving to force the issue of Barathon. He does have his followers, and I feel sure they will take advantage of your presence, Legolas.”

Legolas’ face turned sour then. The pressure to take Barathon out with The Company was becoming not only unbearable, but was now threatening to become a decree. He sighed audibly.

“I know now, that I cannot hold this off indefinitely, yet my concerns are real. Should Barathon join us, he will, sooner or later, be the cause of grief. How many times must I repeat myself?” he whispered almost to himself. “Why will they not trust me in this as they do in other things?”

“Because they sense there may be personal reasons. They know of your dislike of your cousin and this predisposes them to assuming you are being – unfair.”

“Um…” was all he could bring himself to say.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Council at the fortress of the Greenwood had been most interesting, more lively than it had been for a long time, mused Aradan.

Legolas’ presence had caused a sensation, and the chief advisor could see how his colleagues had risen to the circumstances, drawing on all their skills of rhetoric, wit and acumen to present or refute the arguments that were on the schedule. He smiled, for Legolas never failed to raise the blood and bring out the best in others, all except for Barathon, of course, where the opposite was actually true. And herein lay the source of Legolas’ unhappiness now, as he sat at the luncheon table in the king’s suite.

Barathon’s followers were indeed few, but were also those most critical of the king himself, and then their arguments had been most convincing. Legolas however, was nothing if not intelligent, and had refuted them all basing himself on the outcome of the prince’s training. They had argued that that failure could be put down to his own self, asking him why he had not managed to get his cousin up to standard after so long.

Legolas had answered that one cannot change a person’s character if they do not wish it. It had been a circular argument, which in the end, had preempted what Legolas had feared from the beginning. They had passed the motion and Legolas’ hand had been forced. Luckily, he had worked in one necessary and binding condition; that Barathon would follow orders, to the letter, and the first breach in this condition would mean he would be excluded, for good.

He now sat, eating as he stared off into nothing.

“Legolas, you knew this would happen, sooner or later.”

“Knowing does not make it a wise decision, Father. ‘Tis pure folly and I know it, beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt,” he said flatly.

Aradan’s gaze strayed to Thranduil’s – Legolas had taken this question very badly, felt more deeply about it than either could have imagined. He seemed sad, almost, a reaction that had both elves worried.

“I will do this because it is what is required of me, yet I do it in the knowledge that it is wrong. If something happens as a consequence of this, I will feel responsible, I will be responsible.”

Thranduil had not considered that at all, and he did not like it. His son already endured a great responsibility, that of commanding the Greenwood army, and yet it was a responsibility based on decisions he himself took, and when things went wrong and someone was killed, he suffered but with the knowledge that he had done all in his power to avoid it. Yet this, this would be different.

Aradan had followed the same mental process as his king, but he added one final argument.

“Legolas, you will not be responsible, for you have made your position clear, you have warned them, and now that responsibility is for those that oblige you. You can do no more.”

“But I can, Aradan, I can refuse,” he said, his face now betraying the emotions behind his words.

“You cannot refuse a decree, Legolas, not without facing dire consequences,” said Aradan carefully, worried about where Legolas would take this conversation.

“And I could face them,” he countered.

“And if you were replaced and someone less able took your place, Barathon would still be admitted…”

Aradan paused here, for he knew Legolas could not refute this argument.

Legloas held his gaze for a few moments, realizing that Aradan was right. He nodded then, before bringing his head back up and smiling at his father’s close friend.

“Not in vain are you chief advisor of the Greenwood, Aradan, for you are wise indeed. Thank you.”

“You are most very welcome, Legolas,” he replied, yet he was still troubled, for sometimes, the heart caused suffering that the mind considered unfounded, and even though Legolas now understood that technically he would not be responsible, his heart may well rebel, for he knew the king’s son well, so much like his father he was.

………………………………………………………………………

Legolas walked back to his own quarters in the company of Galdithion. Entering and closing the door, the guard relaxed, as he observed his friend. He was pale and obviously tired. His father had not said anything, but once lunch was over, he had caught Galdithion’s eye and gestured with his head to his son. He had realized of course, but he did not want to fuss, and the guard had understood perfectly.

“Where are those herbs that Antien gave you?” he asked, all business, not a hint of a suggestion in them, and surprisingly, Legolas did not hesitate to answer as he sat wearily.

“Over there, on the side board.”

Five minutes later, he sat with a steaming cup in his hand and his friend beside him.

“How are things with you and Elladan?” asked Legolas as he turned to watch his friend’s reaction to his question. He was delighted to see a broad smile crack open, one that had himself grinning in shared joy.

“I told him, I declared myself.”

“And?” asked Legolas, avid for the story despite his sorry physical state.

“And – he returns my love,” he said, a triumphant smile plastered all over his glowing face.

Legolas smiled wider then, the first real moment of joy he had felt all day.

“I am so very happy, Gal. Would that he would take his decision soon, cleave to immortality with you and I at his side.”

Sobering just a little, he simply nodded, for just the thought of his love choosing mortality threatened to bring tears to his eyes.

“Now come, Legolas. Drink and take a nap, and don’t tell me you don’t need it,” he said forcefully, yet Legolas surprised him again, offering no resistance at all to the idea. Once he had left his friend on his bed, crownless and bootless, he made his way to his own rooms – his mind once more awash in misery at the prospect that Elladan would become mortal, that his love would not be strong enough to tilt the balance. Yet he did not want to broach the subject, not yet, lest he appear too eager, or his lover feel pressured. Nay – he would wait, for a while at least.

The lovely face came to his mind’s eye then, and he beamed in joy. ‘Fight well, my love – do not break my heart.’
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Arcane Land