Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Summer Lightning	By : Celebdil Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 718 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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
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Elu strode to the healer's pavilion, his step tense, his fists clenched on self-loathing. He had to know that Celeborn had not taken serious hurt. Had to apologize. He yearned for the young man's forgiveness so badly he trembled with it. Had he lost all his kinsman's respect, all his... love, in one thoughtless moment?
The healer met Elu at the door of his tent, with an expression of faint reproach. The wound told its own story of the ferocity with which it had been dealt. It could not be hidden from one whose path was to mend, and not to strike. Though he was the King, Elu felt himself shamed in the eyes of this peaceful elf. He flushed slightly and looked about himself.
Celeborn was not there.
In no mood for conversation, Elu merely lifted a brow. Expressionless, the healer looked away at the trees, indicating the direction the injured young elf had taken.
Elu looked out at the trackless forest, torn, �Is he well?� he grated out finally.
�The wound is deep, my Lord. But with time and rest it will heal. I have dressed it and given him a draught for the pain. He wished to be alone for a time."
His voice trailed off and his eyes strayed to a pile of bloodied cloths almost hidden beside him. Elu followed his gaze and he inhaled sharply at the gore saturating them. The wound was far more serious than even he had realized. How much it had bled!
"I told him it was not wise to wander injured in the forest on his own. But��
�Why did you not stop him?!� Elu's voice was stingingly abrupt and dangerous, fuelled by his own guilt. He tried to check himself, - what after all could the healer have done, more than give advice? It was not his place to manhandle a prince of Elwe's house. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to be calmer, his tight-clenched fingers aching. 'Forgive me. I am concerned for him. Did he say whence he went?�
�No, my Lord, he would not tell me. And when I pressed the point he was wroth.� Hesitating, the healer raised a face of confused concern to Elu's irritated stare. 'I would not intrude, my Lord, but I would help, if it were within my power. Is aught amiss? Lord Celeborn seemed greatly upset. On edge. He is not the most even tempered of youths, I vow, but I have rarely seen him so ablaze.'
As Elu�s formidable gaze fixed on him, he swallowed nervously, but pressed on, trusting in the king's wisdom and restraint in a way which made Elu feel both inadequate and honoured. "You are loved by your people, Lord, both of you. Yet in recent days a fey mood has come upon you, and it is keenly felt throughout the host. If there is aught that can be done to ease this quarrel, I pledge my aid to do it."
Anguish blossomed anew in Elu's chest, but he had no intention of discussing this particular problem, let alone seeking healing here. �No,� he said softly, �There is naught amiss. A misunderstanding only, which I will presently address when I can speak to him. Return to the festivities. I will find the prince and bring him back.�
Bowing beneath the canvas of the door, the healer hesitated once more, framed in an arch of stars, his gentle face thoughtful, uncertain. "Fury burned in his eyes while I dressed the wound. He has lost much blood, and taken strong medicine for the pain, and in such a state, my king, it may make matters worse if you pursue him now. Would it not be better to send Lord Now� or young Amdir? One of his friends?"
It was meant kindly, Elu knew. It was not meant to say 'You are no longer his friend', but that was how he felt it. Like a slap. "I will go," he said, stubbornly. "It was I who injured him, I who will make amends. Any other course would be cowardice."
If the healer was still of a mind to argue, one look at his king�s face kept him silent. Doubtless, whatever it was that was amiss between these two powerful personalities, he did not wish to become the object of the wrath of either one of them. Silently he nodded, and with a respectful bow, left his lord and king standing alone in the camp.
After he had left, Elu stood wondering where Celeborn would have gone. A little earlier in the day, they had passed through a small glade filled with the heady scent of tiny, bell-like, silver flowers. The trees had been heavy with life, wreathed in blossom. And Celeborn, having a great love foees ees - as many of the Elves had done - had exclaimed with joy at the sight. Surely he would be there?
With a determined stride, Elu hurried in that direction. He could not shake from his mind the thought of the healer's cloths, sodden with blood, or the concern in the healer's eyes he would not allow himself to speak. If Celeborn had fallen, reopened the wound, now lay bleeding� Fear clutched at Elu�est est as he forced himself to breathe normally, to watch out, alert fongernger.
Despite his terror, it did not take him long to find his kinsman. At the foot of one of the tall trees which edged the very glade Elu had thought of, Celeborn sat with his head bowed. He seemed not to hear the king's light step, to be unaware of Elu�s approach, caught unguarded - too weak, or too absorbed in anger - to give thought to his own defence.
Alarm flared in Elu. He was not... Unable to finish the thought, he quickened his pace, strode to Celeborn's side and stood, looking down at the youth's huddled form. No, he was not dead. He breathed, but still he did not move - his knees drawn up to his chest, his head resting on them, his hands lying sprawled, empty among the long grass and white wood-anenomes.
Carefully, Elu hunkered down in front of the still form, reached out a gentle hand to touch the silver hair which spilled, unbound, over Celeborn�s legs, trailed like a starlit pool over the ground.
At Elu�s hesitant touch, Celeborn flinched, pulling his head away, recoiling violently against the trunk of the tree. His hand went for the weapon he did not carry even as his back made contact with the smooth bark. His face, wan in the starlight, paled further as the impact went through his shoulder. He blanched with pain, his strangled gasp loud in the silent forest.
Wide, drugged and dark with confusion, his green eyes seemed almost black in the shadows of the trees. The healer had not lied, Elu thought, in claiming his medicine was strong. Fury, perhaps, had carried Celeborn here, but when it ebbed - as it must, in such a place of beauty - it had left him dizzy, disorientated, unable to do more than slump down where he now sat. Elu shuddered to think how vulnerable he had been, alone and injured, weakened, distressed. Sheer terror clawed its way up Elu�s throat at the thought of what could have happened, even this close to camp. Others had been caught before, and the wails had gone up as their absence and their fate had been discovered.
Melkor's binding had lessened the abductions, but they had not ceased - elves yet disappeared, taken to some terror from which death itself wobe abe a mercy. Even with the oft-presence of Orom�, still it happened. Elu�s soul shrank from the idea of it ever happening to Celeborn.
He waited, his hand resting lightly on Celeborn�s arm until a measure of sense had retd tod to the green eyes. In silence, they stared at each other, barely breathing, so much unsaid between them, so much longed for, so much forbidden.
Then Celeborn�s brows pinched and he said in a voice roughened by pain, �Why did you follow me? You would not have come by choice. Did they send you?�
In the blast of his fear, Elu�s anger had lifted like a mist, fled with no trace. �It was my will toe,� e,� he said quietly, gaze still holding Celeborn�s, �I feared for you. Now, let me bring you home.�
But Celeborn would not be appeased. He scowled, his words a little slurred. �I do not want you here, as you can see. I am perfectly well, my king. Please, allow me a little privacy. Let me be!�
My king. Such a bitter slant to those words! And�. something else. This seemed a deeper anger, a more banked fire than a single mistake - however grievous - would justify. Not the flare he would expect at injustice, but a deep, slow burning resentment. Why? Elu thought. Why should he be thus angry at me? He does not face the torment I face - wishing, wanting so badly, knowing he may not have, driven half mad with frustration and desire...
His breath caught. Could it...? No, it could not be. Surely this anger could not stem from the same choking root as his own? Celeborn was too young to be thus driven. Yet he had fought with such fury - in every place the match for Elu�s. Could it be the cause was also a match for Elu�s own? Merely the thought had his body hardening instantly. He swallowed, licked lips gone suddenly dry, and forced himself to be still and think. Even if the boy wanted him - and surely he did not - still he should be protected from Elu's devouring passion. He was too inexperienced, too na�ve to withstand such an onslaught. Elu had a responsibility, and this was not it.
Celeborn was still staring at him. Elu allowed his hand to slide from the youth's forearm to his uninjured shoulder, felt the muscles tense and jump under his large hand. He took a great gulp of breath, passing it off as a sigh, �I will not leave you. You are hurt. I cannot abandon you here for some hunting bear, or worse, to find. Come back with me now.�
.� T.� The single word was spoken with such finality. Reluctantly Elu lifted his hand from the slender shoulder. At once it felt cold, empty, unfulfilled. He had to tuck it in his sleeve, or he would have reached out again.
�Why were you angry?' he said, 'Oh, I can understand why you are angry now! I came partly to offer my apology. It was unforgivable to allow you to cover my slip and then accept the victory as though it were mine. I did not intend that to happen, I...'
Elu�s voice trailed off. His gaze was full of regret, with such wells of sorrow and half-leashed danger. So close, he was! Celeborn could feel the warmth of his body - a muted promise at this distance - sense the vibrant strength of him. Clenching his hands against the impulse to grasp the front of the king�s tunic and pull him closer, Celeborn looked away, biting his lip.
As he moved, the prince's hair slid over his shoulder and the elegant length of his neck was exposed - a swan-like sweep of muscle, skin the colour of cream, edible as c, be, begging to be tasted, asking to be bitten, bruised ... Taken off guard, transfixed by a sudden wave of desire so strong it made him reel, Elu could not take his eyes from the pulse that beat erratically in the younger elf�s neck. His heart thundered in his ears. Mind racing frantically, he dug his nails into his palms, knowing he should move - stand up, get away before�
He looked up and saw Celeborn watching him. Swiftly, he lunged to his feet, spun away, breath faltering in his throat. No! I will not! he thought desperately. That is not desire I can see in his eyes, he is angry with me and rightly so. In agony, Elu ground his teeth together. Pain lanced through his skull, but still he was achingly aware that Celeborn had risen, unsteadily, and had taken a step toward him.
Seething with desire, Elu grated out, �Why will you not speak? Tell me what I have done that makes you keep such silence!�
ost ost of a smile tugged at Celeborn�s lips. In the sliding shadows of silver night it was hard to see his changing expressions; frustrated honesty, mere confusion, or drugged recklessness. �Do you not know, Elu? All my life I have watched you, I have learnt from you. Why will you not teach me this last thing? Do you not see me here? Do you not care for me�.� the musical voice dropped to a murmur, softened with what seemed contempt, �Or perhaps you have not the courage to acknowledge your own desires, my king.�
My king. At those words - sarcastic, taunting - Elu tensed. A savage wave of anger and lethal desire rocked him, tearing at his restraint, his very sanity. He tried to hold on. The second challenge his young kinsman had issued that night rang in his ears like mocking laughter. My king! Oh! Oh, Valar he would not take this! He could not! Pushed beyond endurance, aching with overwhelming, demanding need, at last his body overruled him, shoved aside with ruthless ease the final scruples of his mind.
Reacting from pure, primal instinct, Elu snarled. He reached the place where Celeborn stood in two swift strides. Grabbing the younger elf roughly by the shoulders, he heard, distantly, Celeborn�s gasp of pain as he bore him stumbling backwards, slammed him into the unyielding trunk of the tree, forcing the breath out of his lungs. He heeded no cries of agony - they did not matter, nothing mattered now but the need to kiss, to possess, to feel that firm mouth beneath his, to absorb the warmth of breath and body into his own.
Elu�s mouth came down ruthlessly on Celeborn�s, smothering the prince�s outcry beneath a bruising kiss. He crowded the youth back against the tree, growling in his throat at the longed for feel of the lithe, warm muscled body beneath his heavier one. Gripping Celeborn�s shoulders hard, he felt wet warmth seep beneath his left hand.eboreborn moaned, but whether it was in agony or desire or both, Elu could not tell; he could distinguish nothing but the glory of the young body pressed tight against his, the lips, hot and sweet and, he realized with shock, as demanding as his own.
Celeborn was kissing him back with a hunger to match Elu�s own. At that realization, the Elven king�s passion spiralled out of control. He thrust ungentle hands into the youth's mithril hair, held him still, so that he could plunmoremore fully the drugging warmth of his mouth. It was pure, sweet ecstasy, like nothing Elu had ever known. Searing heat and cold shot through his body, intoxicating, overpowering. Without thought, he moved still closer, until his hips came into contact with Celeborn�s. Need shocked through him at the touch. 'Ah!' he cried out, as the warm heaviness of his desire came into tight contact with Celeborn�s own rigid hardness. Oh Valar! He wants me!
Not stopping to think, beyond fighting the waves of passion engulfing his body, Elu thrust forward, needing more, needing� He pushed Celeborn harder back against the tree. Liquid welled over his hand, flowed over Celeborn's shoulder and then his own, melding them together. Its heat spread between them, as delicious as Celeborn's strength, pushing back against his, sensuous as the abandoned passion with which the younger elf reacted to Elu�s onslaught, as though he would rather touch than breathe.
Celeborn�s hands were tangled in Elu�s hair, pulling him closer. His hips thrust hard against his king�s. His legs went weak with wanting; his head light with the need clouding it. If there was a dizziness apart from the mind-numbing gratification, a weakness which did not stem from the intoxicating pleasure Elu�s mouth and body was giving him, then he ignored it. Waves of heat made his head spin. Tiny bursts of light exploded behind his eyes. Elu moved, and fire raced over his skin as the king�s head lowered and he began to kiss Celeborn�s neck, sucking hard, sliding with warm moistness up to the corner of his jaw, impatiently nuzzling aside soft silver hair to find the sensitive pulse point, tasting and laving the warm skin with his tongue.
Celeborn�s legs buckled and he would have fallen had not Elu�s big body pinned him against the tree. He whimpered with the force of the sensations crashing through him, which only intensified as Elu swept his hands down his body and pulled his hips still closer, gasping into Celeborn�s ear. To see Elu so out of control, so needy, so desperate - it drove Celeborn out of his mind with wanting. The growing agony of his shoulder was an irrelevance. Ignoring it, he bucked under Elu's weight, trying to push his hands between their bodies, searching, seeking. He found Elu�s hard length and closed slender fingers around his king�s desire. Elu convulsed beneath his touch, thrusting forward hard, an agonized cry of pleasure bursting from his throat against the smoothness of Celeborn�s skin. Celeborn answered the involuntary cry with a moan of his own, the grind of Elu�s hips sending waves of ecstasy coursing through him, increasing the dizziness into a seething maelstrom of want and need and pain�.
Pain. He registered the sensation for a brief moment of blinding agony, and then the world went dark, dragging him down to a place where desire mingled with waves of searing cold�
When Celeborn went limp beneath him, Elu�s first reaction was surprise. The lithe form thrust tight to his relaxed so suddenly that he staggered, caught off balance. He raised his head, shook it. Instinctively, his hands reached to catch the sagging body as he struggled to focus, to clear the haze of passion from his eyes.
"No! Oh no!" Glory turned to horror suddenly and completely, when he saw what had happened.
Blood covered Celeborn�s chest, glistening dark in the starlight. So much blood! Elu too was covered in it - hand and sleeve and tunic. He had slammed the youth back against the tree, brutally, with all his strength, reopening the bone-deep wound. It was bad - far, far worse than he had ever thought. Bad enough to be deadly, and he, in his selfishness, had neither noticed nor cared. There was so much blood! So much!
Gathering the unconscious form to him, Elu laid trembling fingers to the younger elf�s throat. A weak pulse faltered there. Swiftly, resisting the urge to scream in denial and panic, he lifted the boy, so that the liquid silver of Celeborn�s hair fell in shimmering waves over his arm, grated out a plea to whatever Valar might be listening, and began to run back to camp.
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Summer Lightning