Twilight Tales - The Mind's Eye | By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3165 -:- 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. |
Title: Twilight Tales - The Minds Eye
Author: Eressë (eresse21@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Legolas/Elrohir
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I write for the sheer enjoyment of it. Everything else belongs to the grand old wizard of tale spinning, JRR Tolkien.
Summary: We can lie to others but we cannot truly lie to ourselves.
Authors Note: This is one of the tales I decided not to include in Greenleaf & Imladris. This interlude takes place between On the Edge of Forever and What the Morrow Will Bring. There is also a reference in it to the events in the short story In the Shadows.
The Minds Eye
Úrui TA 3019
The grassy plains of Rohan spread out endlessly before the lone rider. It was a perfect day for a jaunt into the vastness of the Riddermark. Bright and breezy and nary a dark cloud to shadow the impossibly blue sky. Or a ferocious orc or unruly Dunlending to mar the peace and quiet.
Legolas grinned as Arod galloped happily across the wide expanse of horse-trodden land with only the lightness of an Elf upon his back. Said Elf suspected his steed had always sensed the Dwarfs unease with his four-legged kindred and returned the dislike with equal lack of affection.
A brightly sparkling stream revealed itself just below the low hill they now crested. He turned Arod towards the silvery streak. It was time for a cooling drink for both horse and rider.
While Arod took his fill, Legolas moved a fair distance upstream to take his. He knelt before the stream and scooped up a good mouthful with his hands. As he let the refreshing liquid slide down his throat, he watched the waters return to their languid flow, the crystalline surface alike to a well-polished mirror.
He stared as his reflection grew more distinct. His breath caught. A face appeared just above his shoulder.
Legolas turned swiftly. Argent eyes met his sapphire gaze. Elrohir! he said with delight. What brings you here?
The Elf-knight shrugged and only said with a faint smile, I saw you.
Legolas watched with some bemusement as he turned and walked to the lone tree by the stream. The warrior sank down in its shade and leaned his lissome frame against the gnarled trunk. After a moment, Legolas rose and joined him. He regarded his friend with some disconcertment. But Elrohir did not look at him.
I pray your sojourn in Fangorn with Gimli will bring you aught but pleasure, the Elvenlord murmured, eyes on the stream.
Legolas stared at him curiously. Why so formal in your manner, Elrohir? he queried. Indeed, you have been distant with me these past many days.
Have I? Elrohir countered mildly. I was not aware of it.
The archer felt a wave of frustration wash over him. He did not know why or how but it seemed a gap yawned between him and the Elf-knight. A gap that frightened him. It was alarming not to feel their closeness of yore; he had always depended on it for forbearance and courage. He studied Elrohir wonderingly.
The Elf-knight had bound his hair into the single, thick plait that suited him so well. It revealed his finely sculpted countenance and emphasized the un-elvish broadness of his shoulders, which contrasted so sensuously with his otherwise slender form. But of a sudden, Legolas longed to see the raven locks loose and wanton upon those very shoulders.
Wordlessly, he reached over and, without asking his friend leave to do so, unclasped the long braid. Elrohir watched him impassively as he ran his hand through the sable skein until the warriors tresses flowed like a cascade of blue-black silk, spilling gloriously upon his shoulders and down his back. With his hairs loosening the Elf-knights distinctive scent also came to the fore. Legolas closed his eyes as the sweet aromas of the hidden vale assailed his nostrils.
He opened his eyes and realized with a start that Elrohir was watching him. He swallowed hard, abashed by his friends regard. But Elrohir made no move save to tilt his head slightly and raise a questioning eyebrow. At a loss for a rational explanation for his actions, Legolas found himself staring at the twins mouth instead. The sinuous lips seemed rosier than usual to the princes suddenly fogged mind.
Without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Elrohirs. Caught them and could not help savoring them. They were not like any Elf-maids or akin even to those of the ellyn, or male Elves, of Lórien who had dared to steal this favor from him, much to their immediate rue. Not even in the Golden Wood had he known any like the Elf-knights lips. Or desired them.
Warm and soft and sweet yet ripe with barely leashed power and passion just simmering below some intangible surface. He broke off the kiss, his breath hitching in his throat at the turbulent feelings this mere caress evoked within him. He became aware of Elrohirs wary gaze.
Calenlass, you said you wished us to be as we once were, he quietly reminded the archer. To be friends and no more.
Legolas flushed. I know, he said stumblingly. But after all I have endured, I tis only that I cannot go on without without
He looked away in distress, cheeks scarlet with shame, unable to put into words what he felt, what he needed. A gentle hand cupped his chin and compelled him to face his friend once more. Elrohir studied him intently. And then the warrior pulled him close and kissed him.
Shame swiftly dissipating with the answering of his desire, Legolas sighed and sank into the Elf-knights arms. A part of him wondered in confusion: Why do I crave his touch? What is wrong with me? But another part, the greater part, did not care to ponder the conundrum and only wanted to know Elrohirs inimitable possession once more.
Liquid fire swept through his veins as the warrior proved to him all over again the exquisite singularity of his prowess in this field of battle. It seemed but a moment ere he found himself supine upon Elrohirs cloak, his clothing cast aside, the twin blanketing him with more than his formidable form.
He shuddered as Elrohirs lips paved a burning path down the column of his throat to the shallowly heaving planes of his chest. He sucked in his breath as each nipple was drawn into moist warmth and sharply suckled until he was writhing needfully beneath the warrior. The searing quest continued, leaving crimson smears on the pale skin of his belly, making him gasp in elated felicity. A moan broke from his lips as the sensitive clefts that framed his groin were teasingly laved and nipped.
While powerful hands gripped and stroked his thighs, a preying mouth ensnared his turgid length, nearly making him howl out his joy. He helplessly bucked into the Elf-knights mouth, the rapture of Elrohirs attentions bringing him perilously close to completion. The warrior suddenly released him.
Nay! he gasped imploringly. Elrohir, please do not leave me thusly!
I will not, ernilenmy princeElrohir purringly assured him. Your pleasure is mine. Always.
Legolas stared up dazedly at him as he moved between his legs, lifting them, preparing him for breaching. When it came, the archer groaned pleasurably, arching into his slow, deep piercing. And then he almost sobbingly cried out as Elrohir curled his hand around his aching shaft and stroked him in time with his bruising thrusts.
The rapturous pressure grew in his nether regions with every delve into his body and every caress of his length. Elrohir caught his gaze and held it. Legolas thought he would drown in the twilight depths. They lured him, beguiled him, steadily undid him.
Let go, Calenlass, urged the silent, irresistible command.
Release came with crashing force, overwhelming him until he could hold himself back no longer and he hoarsely keened the Elf-knights name, the sound of it ringing across the serene plains.
Legolas! Are you all right?!
The gruffly voiced query jolted the Elf, so jarringly different was it from the deep, melodious tones of his friend turned lover. He blinked in confusion as he beheld Gimlis anxious countenance hovering over him, the Dwarfs hair and beard a tousled mess, the latter having been hauled out of deep slumber so precipitately. He looked about him, disoriented, and tried to reconcile the open, airy vastness of Rohan with this closed, tree-crowded darkness. The springy grass beneath him had given way to creeping moss and fallen leaves.
Where am I? he asked.
Where are? Gimli sputtered. In Fangorn Forest, of course! Where else did you think you were? He glared with some exasperation at the still befuddled Elf. That must have been quite a nightmare for you to call out your Elf-knights name so loudly.
That effectively startled Legolas into more coherence. He is not my Elf-knight, he protested.
Gimli snorted. Whatever he may be to you, twas his name you cried out and verily roused me out of my own dreams! he retorted. And such pleasant dreams I was having, too!
Legolas had the grace to feel repentant. Forgive me for disturbing your rest, Gimli, he said ruefully. It shall not happen again.
The Dwarf merely turned a sceptical look on him. As if you can control your dreams, he growled. Dratted Elf.
Legolas scowled and shifted on his pallet to smooth out his cloak, which had evidently tangled itself around his tall frame during his nocturnal thrashings. As he did so, his shirt hem shifted just as Gimlis stare, his concerned sweep of the archers form belying his curmudgeonly manner, fell on that particular region.
The Dwarfs eyes widened. He suddenly grinned wolfishly to Legolas surprise and apprehension.
Gimli chuckled knowingly. Your Elrohir is quite a master if what he once did with you is capable of leaving so deep a mark on your memory, he said with a smirk.
The prince stared at him bewilderedly, failing to counter the charge anew. What do you mean? he demanded.
Why, only that I am impressed that he can undo you even in your dreams! Gimli proclaimed triumphantly, all umbrage gone. He looked pointedly at the Elfs lap.
Legolas glanced down then turned a deep red. The evidence of his explosive release betrayed itself in the small but visible dark splotch in the crotch of his breeches. He suddenly pulled his cloak around his form to hide the telltale shadow.
Gimli continued to snicker as he lay down once more upon his pallet. Legolas closed his eyes in embarrassment as he heard a chortlingly muttered: In a pigs eye!
But even as his cheeks burned, his minds eye evinced the reason for his discomfiture. Against all reason and his own will, he saw an incomparably comely face before him. And a pair of luminous twilight eyes gazed back tenderly at him. As they had always done down the centuries of his life.
*******************
Glossary:
Úrui - Sindarin for August
Calenlass - Greenleaf (Elrohirs pet name for Legolas)
The End
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