Filling Santa's shELVES

Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely connected to Tolkien's universe, and will not profit from this writing in any way. Seriously - I won't get a single, solitary nickel. Not even a coupon for fifty cents off a diet Coke. It’s pathetic.

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Filling Santa's ShELVES - A Twisted Christmas Story


Chapter 11


"He will not want to touch me," Ayaz said softly to the other three Ellith as they pared apples in the kitchen. Her hands worked steadily, although the quiver in her voice gave away her worry. Her eyes seemed to stare into space, although her hands worked at a steady pace.

"Yes, he will. You are beautiful, Ayaz…I've told you that many times," Elur replied, pausing in her work to pat Ayaz on the arm. "Any Elf would be happy to have you come to him."

"You're my friend, Elur…of course you would say that. Besides, we nearly grew up together. You're used to me. He won't be. He's not going to want me, not that I'd blame him."

"Stop it, Ayaz!" Gish said sternly. "If he's at all like Orophin, he will be kind…and gentle. And if he isn't," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper, "I'll take this paring knife and cut it off!"

Ayaz put her hand over her mouth, gasping in shock at Gish's bold words, but soon collapsed into giggles with her friends. Geshi, the youngest of the four, and the most shy, turned a bright red, although she giggled as well.

Gish put her arm around Ayaz, and said softly, "Ayaz…it will hurt a bit."

"Do you think I'm afraid of a little pain, Gish?" Ayaz asked, turning her head toward Gish. "After what Santa did to me?"

"Of course not, Ayaz…I just wanted to prepare you. It helped knowing what to expect. Elur had to go in there blind…I mean…"

"It's all right, Gish…I understand," Ayaz said with a small laugh, patting her friend's hand. "I just still think that he won't want to touch me."

"Nonsense. He's bound to…" Elur began, but was interrupted by a guard banging open the kitchen door.

"It's time," the guard announced. "Which one of you did Santa pick for tonight?"

Swallowing hard, lifting her head bravely, Ayaz said, "Me. It’s my turn to go."

"Hmmff. Poor Elf, he's sure getting the short end of the stick, isn't he?" the guard laughed cruelly. "Elur…take her in. The rest of you get back to work!" He turned and walked down the hallway, clearly expecting the two Ellith to follow.


At the sharp rap on the door, the Elves stood, Rumil nearly jumping out of his skin. He cast one last look at Haldir, mouthing the plea, "Legolas?" Haldir merely frowned at him, and nodded toward Orophin and the Mirkwood Prince to follow him out of the room.

The door opened, and Elur entered, leading a lovely, golden haired Elleth by her elbow. The Elleth, although blushing furiously, stared straight ahead, head held high, meeting no one's eyes. Elur smiled at Haldir, and nodded at Legolas and Orophin. Seeing that Rumil was still standing toward the rear of the room and not making any indication that he would be leaving, she realized which Elf would be staying in the room with Ayaz.

"Rumil…this is Ayaz," Elur said, giving Rumil a rather strange look. He realized that the look meant that he had better remember their conversation of the morning, or face the consequences. He watched, confused, as Elur led Ayaz to a cot, and sat her down on the thin mattress.

Elur patted Ayaz on the shoulder, then followed the other Elves out of the room. With one final look back, she closed and bolted the door behind her.

Rumil offered Ayaz a courteous half-bow, before walking closer to her. Clearing his throat, he said, "My name is Rumil - I am Haldir and Orophin's brother. You are Ayaz?" He frowned when she nodded her head, but didn't look at him.

"I won't bite, you know. You can look at me."

Her blush intensified, but Ayaz still did not meet his eyes. Growing a bit angry at her snub, Rumil walked around to stand directly in front of her. "It is only polite to look at someone when they address you, Ayaz. I realize that you are here against your will, but then, so am I. A little courtesy would…" His tongue stopped wagging in mid-sentence when it finally dawned on him why she hadn't made eye contact with him…why Elur had led her into the room by the elbow…why Elur had sat her down on the cot…why she was still staring blankly ahead although he was standing directly in front of her.

Ayaz was blind.

"Sweet Eru…" he whispered, dropping down to one knee before her. He placed a hand on hers, clenched so hard as they were on her lap that her knuckles were white. "I am so sorry, Ayaz…I'm a fool. I just didn't realize…"

She turned her head from the sound of his voice, hating the pity she heard in it, and hating herself even more for caring so much about what he thought of her.

"It is nothing, Rumil. I am sorry that you are stuck with me."

"Stuck with you? I'm sorry that you're stuck with me - a buffoon with only half a brain, it seems."

She couldn't help smiling just a bit at his self-effacing remarks. He tightened his grip on her hands, saying "You have a lovely smile. You are lovely, period." Her smile grew a bit broader, her face, hotter. She felt him sit next to her on the cot, still holding her hands.

"Will you tell me how it happened, Ayaz? Elves are not born with physical imperfections…our eyesight and hearing are always more acute than those of Men. I know that you weren't born blind, and would know what accident caused it."

"It wasn't an accident. Santa did it."

"WHAT?" Rumil shot up from the bed as if the mattress was on fire. "He did this on purpose?"

"Not really on purpose," Ayaz said, fear crossing her lovely features at Rumil's sudden movement and angry tone. "I was one of the first Elflings he brought here. Back then, he hadn't thought of the spell he's been working on to enslave mankind. He wanted to make Orcs. I don't know exactly what Orcs are, but I know that at one time, they were Elves."

"Orcs were Elves…Elves who broke under the cruelty of Saruman's torture. They became horrible, brutal things afterward, incapable of kindness or love."

"That is what Santa said. He also said that they would be his army to take over this world. I was the only survivor of the torture…he stopped when I lost my sight, because he said I would be useless to him as an Orc without my vision. The other Elflings all died…he said they were too young to withstand the pain. He kept me to remind himself of his mistake. That's what he calls me…his mistake. It was soon after that he began teaching the new Elflings to make toys."

"You are not a mistake, Ayaz…you are a miracle!" Rumil cried, his hands clenched at his sides, pacing all around the room in righteous fury. "I will tell Saruman that myself, just before I take HIS eyes."

Ayaz shuddered at the anger and coldness in Rumil's voice, and was suddenly very glad it wasn't aimed at her. "Rumil…if you keep moving around like that, then I can't tell where you are…" she whispered, hoping to distract him from his anger.

He froze immediately, and walked quickly to sit with her again. "I am sorry, Ayaz. The thought of him torturing Elflings like that, of torturing you like that, makes my blood boil."

"It was a long, long time ago, Rumil. I do not hurt anymore."

"Perhaps, but you still hurt inside. I can see it on your face when you speak of what he did. And now…now he forces you to…to…be here with me. I am sorry for all of it, Ayaz."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Rumil - you did nothing to hurt me. But, thank you for saying it…" she said softly, glad when he put his hand on hers again. Speaking so quietly that even Rumil, with his Elven hearing could barely make out the words, she said, "Rumil…may I see what you look like?"

"What? How…" he paused as she lifted her slender hands from under his on her lap, holding her fingers up toward his face. He realized what she needed and guided her hands to his face.

With the utmost grace, and such a feather touch as to be barely perceptible, she slowly glided her fingers up to his broad forehead. He closed his eyes as her fingers slid softly over the lids, moving over his nose from the high bridge to the upturned tip, tracing his full lips. She felt his cleft chin, his strong jawline, sliding back and upwards to find his ears. Gently, they traced the folds up to the delicately pointed tips, and back again. Working their way back up to his eyes, she whispered, "What color are your eyes, Rumil? I remember colors…"

"Gray."

She smiled, her fingers now tracing his elegant brow. "What color gray? Dove gray, dark gray…?"

"I don't know…I never really thought about it before…light gray, I suppose…"

"Dove gray, then. And your hair?"

"It's a sort of silvery white, I guess."

"It's very silky. And long! It must be nearly as long as mine!" she laughed, once again feeling the smooth texture with her fingers.

Rumil laughed with her. "It is. Elves always wear their hair long, and usually tied back with braids." He lifted her hand to touch the warrior knots at the side of his head over his ear.

"I think you must be beautiful, Rumil. Your skin is very smooth and soft."

"I know that you are beautiful, Ayaz," he said, his voice lowering and becoming a bit husky, thickening with emotion as he thought how gentle and sweet this Ellith remained, even after suffering the way she had. He lifted her fingers to his lips and softly kissed them.

Her head was turned toward him, although her pale eyes with their nearly white irises looked over one of his shoulders. His own hand moved to her face, following more or less the same paths hers had taken on his.

"May I kiss you, Ayaz?" he whispered, leaning in so his face was mere inches from hers. At her shy nod, he dipped his head, and brushed his lips against hers.

His arms encircled her, warm and strong, closing the short distance between them as his lips found hers again, more firmly this time, more ardently.

Her hands slid up his chest, her sensitive fingertips feeling the hardness of the muscles beneath the fabric of his jumpsuit, slipping under his hair, wrapping themselves around the back of his neck. Fire smoldered in her belly from his kisses, and she found herself kissing him back, barely taking breaths before pulling his head down again and again. His tongue slipped between her lips, her own tongue wantonly tasting it, welcoming it.

She felt his hands move to the base of her neck, tugging at the string that held her nightgown closed. Untied, the gown's neck opened, his fingers pushing it down her shoulders, freeing her full breasts to his touch.

His lips left hers, choosing to deposit soft, feathery kisses on her cheeks, her nose, each of her eyes. That he would choose to kiss her damaged eyes brought a freshet of tears, though he kissed those away before they could fall.

The skin beneath his fingers was soft and warm, as they glided down her shoulders and arms, then across her chest to lightly cup her breasts in his palms.

Gasping as his fingers found her nipples, teasing them into hard, round nubs, sending a burning into her belly, she tightened her grip around his neck. His lips found hers yet again, sucking gently on her lower lip, before his tongue plunged into her mouth. Passionately he kissed her while his hands gently kneaded the silky flesh and hard nubs of her breasts.

Gently grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her up with him from the cot, allowing her nightdress to slide the rest of the way to the floor. Shivering in the chill and from the feverish sensations that were coursing through her, her emboldened fingers felt for the closures of his jumpsuit. He helped her unfasten them, shrugging out of it, simultaneously kicking off his boots.

Naked, he sighed as her fingers flitted over the hard muscles of his shoulders and chest, delicately feeling the pebbled skin of his nipples and their tiny jutting nubs, tracing the sculpted form of his stomach. He sighed again when her hands reached his Elfhood, which stood at rigid attention. Feeling her breath expel against his chest as she explored the silken skin of his erection, the smooth, round head with its tiny slit already weeping, and ridge just below, down the thick shaft to the rounded firm sac, and back again, he moaned. His mouth found her neck, sucking hard at the tender flesh at the base of her neck, marking her, causing her to gasp. Her hands reluctantly left his organ, traveling around his slender hips, running up his strong back, then down again to cup his firm backside. No inch of him was spared as she expertly felt him, forming a picture in her mind of her lover's body, mapping each valley, each ridge.

Although he could see her, his hands moved as hers did, feeling each inch of her luscious body, moaning into her neck. When his fingers found her folds, she gasped into his chest, but did not pull away. Instead, she reached between them to take his engorged Elfhood in her hands again, running her palms up and down along its length, circling her fingers around its girth.

Leading her to the cot, he lay with her, their hands never stopping their exploring, their mouths tasting each other's skin. Carefully, he parted her legs, scooting down to taste her honey filled depths. She cried out softly as his tongue licked and circled her hidden nub, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her. Deftly, he slipped a finger inside of her, pushing it gently deeper until it met with her barrier, then sliding it back out again. Over and over, he thrust into her, as his tongue licked and his lips suckled at her nub, bringing her closer and closer to the edge, her body writhing at his touch. Rearing between her legs, he spoke softly to her, reassuring her, apologizing in advance for any pain he might cause her.

Gasping from the pleasure he had been stirring in her, and at the withdrawl of his finger and tongue, she pleaded with him not to stop, not to worry for her. "Please, Rumil…I need you…need something…"

Moaning, he broached her entry with his organ, the heat and tightness of her channel enveloping his shaft. In one sure movement he breached her maidenhead, noting that she didn't even gasp at the pain he knew he had caused. Starting out slowly, but gradually increasing his tempo, he skillfully brought her with him to a back-arching, thundering climax. As he spilled his seed deep within her, he directed conception, collapsing on top of her, panting for breath, but at the same time, managing to whisper sweet words in her ear.

"Ayaz, Ayaz…I am a warrior and have seen many battles, but you are perhaps the strongest, most brave person I have met. You are beautiful, soft, tender…and I think as hard as rock when you need to be. I am lucky and grateful to have been the one to make love to you…to father your child."

Ayaz smiled, nuzzling her head under his chin, his words engraved upon her heart. "Your child, too, Rumil. Our child. Our son."