The Price of Pride

Elvish translations

Melethril – lover (female) Saes – please
Aníron lle – I need you Kamelo a’ amin – make love to me
Irmamin – my desire Uma – yes
Miqulo amin – kiss me Lle naa vanima – you are beautiful
Amin mela lle – I love you Amin irmon lle – I desire you


Chapter 6

Arwen did indeed stay by my side for the rest of the evening. In fact, she could not have gotten much closer to me in public. I knew she was an innocent – no Elf of experience would have kissed me the way she had by the waterfall – but she had obviously been observing the couples had had already found partners for the evening. She brushed against me at every turn, using her shoulder, her hip, her arm to caress me, playing the game of seduction with more skill than I would have expected from an Elf her age. She was no master yet, but she was playing wholeheartedly. Even if our pairing had not already been established, I would have known, just from her actions, that she desired me as her partner for the evening. If she desired to show her choice by her actions, I would gladly return the favor. The difference being that I was a master at the art of seduction.

I leaned toward her to propose another dance, letting my lips almost touch the sensitive tip of her ear. I felt a shiver run through her as she accepted. When we had danced before, my hand had settled, very correctly in the small of her back. This time, I allowed it to drift fractionally lower. Not enough to scandalize, just enough to entice. The grassy area occupied by the dancers was still crowded, providing cover to pull her just a little closer than before, so that my thighs brushed against hers as we moved. I had seen hints of passion in her eyes when she had joined me earlier. They were hints no more. There in the blue depths, I saw what I had longed to see since the day I had returned to Imladris. Desire. Not in the general, but in the specific. Desire for me. I glanced up at Ithil’s progress across the sky. Though I had already had my fill of custom that night, I knew we could not leave before Ithil reached its height in the night sky. I had never cared much about convention, but I would not disrespect Lord Elrond by flaunting tradition on such an important night. Even when Arwen’s nearness had all but brought me to my knees with desire. Arwen must have followed my gaze, for she asked breathlessly, “How long until we can leave?”

“Soon,” I replied, letting my lips touch her ear this time. She gasped, her eyes darting up to look at me. I read something akin to panic there and realized that I had overwhelmed her. “ Worry not,” I whispered, “you can return the favor when we are alone.”

The shiver that ran through her then had nothing to do with panic. “How soon?” she asked. Ai, her impatience was not helping. Just the thought of what was to come was almost enough to push me over the edge. The leggings I wore beneath my robes were uncomfortably tight, and growing tighter with every glance, every word, every touch. I glanced at Ithil again. “Ten minutes, melethril.” I felt greatly daring using the endearment. Even if it was not the one I would have preferred, it was an accurate one. She was about to be my lover. I led her into one more dance, hoping that we could slip away when it was finished.

I looked around, seeking Elrond, or even better Celebrian. I wanted someone to give me tacit approval to leave early. I was fairly sure that Celebrian, at least, would give that approval. Arwen took advantage of my distraction, moving her hand from my shoulder to my ear. I gasped, only barely suppressing a moan. It appeared she was not content to wait until we were alone to pay me back for my earlier caress. Suddenly, I cared not what the others thought. I took her hand and led her from the dancers, toward the house.

“Legolas?” she asked timidly.

“It is time,” was all I could reply in the state I was in. My feelings must have been catching, for she was soon leading me through the darkened corridors to her rooms. She opened the door, preceding me inside, and stood speechless. I stepped inside behind her, closing the door, and considered the bower that Erestor and Glorfindel had prepared for us. Though it was a comfortably warm night, a fire burned gently in the fireplace, a nest of blankets and pillows arranged in front of it. Candles burned, giving the room a soft glow, and illuminating the flowers throughout the room. My eyes searched the flowers, seeing the pink camellia that spoke of my longing for Arwen, the daffodils that proclaimed my unrequited love, the jonquils that told of my desire, the gardenias that promised ecstasy, the ivy that swore my fidelity. Finally I found what I sought. A red tulip and the fleur-de-lys. The tulip was my declaration of love, though my love understood it not. The fleur-de-lys was a plea. “I burn,” I whispered, handing her the fleur-de-lys.

She looked surprised, whether at my admission or at the flower, I do not know, but she took the flower from my hand. “As do I,” she admitted softly.

It took all my will not to sweep her into my arms and into bed at that very moment, but she deserved better than a hasty coupling. She deserved all my patience and control, all the drawn-out, tender lovemaking I could provide. I settled in front of the fire, reaching for the red tulip, and held out my hand. She joined me on the soft cushions, moving easily into my arms. I brushed a soft kiss over the crown of her head, then tilted her chin up to brush the tulip across her lips. “You kissed me once before,” I murmured. “Shall I kiss you now?”

“Saes,” she answered. That was all the permission I needed. My lips settled lightly on hers, relishing their velvety softness. She was soon returning my chaste kisses. I parted my lips, to taste her sweetness. She gasped and pulled away. I bent my head back to hers, kissing her again, touching my tongue to her lips softly. “Fear not, irmamin. I will do nothing tonight that you do not want. Will you let me show you what we can create together?”

“Uma,” she whispered. “Kamelo a’ amin.”

I forced myself to smile, to stay where I was and not pounce on her right then. “Oh, I will make love to you, but promise me that you will tell me if I do something you do not like.”

“I promise.”

I took her lips again, in a searing kiss this time, invading her mouth, letting her feel the depth of my passion and, though she saw it not, of my love. At first, she was passive under my onslaught, but soon she began to respond. When the tip of her tongue first tentatively touched mine, I thought I would lose my mind. Again I forced myself to stillness, encouraging her to explore, to taste me as I had tasted her. She gained confidence quickly, even to the point of pushing me back into the pillows so she could move over me. I had no intention of doing anything to dissuade her so I reclined against the cushions, reveling in the freedom to kiss her, in the pleasure of bodybody pressing down on mine as she leaned over me. After many long moments, she pulled back to stare at me inquiringly. I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“What comes next?” she asked.

I chose actions rather than words, rolling her back into the cushions to come up over her again. I traced the contours of her face with gentle caresses before kissing her delicate cheekbones, eyes, forehead, moving finally to the pointed tip of her ears. She cried out softly as I ran my tongue over the sensitive spot. Her hand flew to her mouth as if to smother the sound. I caught her fingers in mine and raised them to my lips. “There is no one to hear, melethril, and no secret about what we are doing. I want to hear your cries.”

She looked puzzled so I leaned back again, tilting my head to give her access to my own ear. Her glance asked permission. I nodded encouragingly as she ran gentle fingers over the curve of my ear. I gasped at the electric contact. Then, she reciprocated the ca tha that had wrung a cry from her. I groaned, both from the innocent touch and from the desire to have so much more. The puzzled look faded to one of satisfaction at the sound. I could not resist that look. I pulled her mouth back to mine, tongue tangling with hers again. As we kissed, I ran my hand down the length of her hair, then back up her side to the delicate line of her collarbone, bared by the scooped neckline of her dress. My fingers encountered the fine chain that held her jewel, the Evenstar for which she was named. I traced down the chain to touch the pendant. Arwen trembled at my touch. I bent my head and followed the same path with my mouth, outlining the jewel against her skin with the tip of my tongue. She smelled of lilac. Youth, innocence, the first emotions of love. I knew the scent was coincidental, that she had not chosen it to evoke the meanings that I now identified, but it was enough to send me over the edge. My body shook with release against hers.

“Legolas?” she asked, sitting up, concern in her voice.

“It is nothing, iin. in. Lie back and let me love you.” Fortunately, she was innocent enough not to realize what had just happened, and the small orgasm gave me a measure of control that I would not have had without it. I kissed her again, reweaving the spell that had held us captive before my loss of control. Reaching up gently, I brushed the strap of her dress off her shoulder, placing a soft kiss on the skin revealed. I repeated the action on the other side. Then, I reached behind her, seeking her laces. I found only smooth silk. Arwen giggled a little as she raised one arm. “Here,” she whispered. I found the laces and loosened them, drawing the gown down to reveal her breasts. For a moment, all I could do was stare. She was perfect.

When I could finally move again, I trailed the back of my fingers across her skin, amazed that she was real, that she was here with me, that I was allowed to touch and to taste. Her hand came up to touch my face. I turned my head and pressed a kiss into her palm. She drew my lips back to hers with gentle pressure, handhands busy with the ribbons that held my braids. She ran her fingers through my hair as I kissed her luscious mouth before moving down to her neck. I sucked gently at the skin there. I chose not to mark her skin, though a part of me wanted all of Rivendell to know that I had loved her well. Later, when she understood more, I would give her the choice to bear my mark or not. As her fingers tangled in my hair, I moved lower still, grazing the top of her breasts, nuzzling between them as I moved to place butterfly kisses on her flat stomach. I felt her tug on my hair. I looked up at her face. She was so beautiful to me at that moment. Her face was flushed, lips parted, eyes dark with desire. She pulled again. I let her guide my head back to her breasts. I met her eyes once more before settling to feast on her bounty. I nipped and nibbled, before pulling one taut nipple as far into my mouth as I could. The sounds she was making goaded me on. I switched my attention to her other breast. Her hands left my hair and were searching for the laces on my robes. I let her push them away. The light shirt I was wearing underneath would hide the stain on my leggings for the moment. Since she had already distracted me, I sat up and helped her remove the robes completely. She followed me up, running her hands over my chest. The friction of the silk and the heat of her hands sent shockwaves through me. My own passion, which had been partially sated by my earlier orgasm, returned full force. I resisted the temptation to guide her hands lower. I didn’t want to pressure her. This night was for her, not for me, so I let her see pae pace. Finally, her hands made their torturous way down my body to brush across my erection. My whole body jerked at the contact, causing her to withdraw.

“I apol…” I cut the words off with an almost brutal kiss. I never wanted to hear those words connected with any caress she bestowed on me.

“You did not hurt me,” I told her when I broke the kiss to breathe. “Your touch feels wonderful.” Now that she had touched me once, I brought her hands back to touch me again, guiding them a little, showing her how best to touch me. When I feared I would come again, I pulled her hands away and removed her dress. She looked a little hesitant so I asked, “Would it help if I finished undressing?” She nodded silently. I rose and turned away to surreptitiously clean myself up as I removed my shirt and leggings. I realized as I turned back to face her that I was nervous.

“Lle naa vanima.” Her words reassured me. If she could find me beautiful, she was not scared of what was to come.

“You said that to me once before,” I told her. “That time, you kissed me and ran. What are you going to do this time?”

She made no reply but took my hand instead, drawing me back beside her, bare skin coming into contact with bare skin for the first time. Shivering at the sensation, I ran my hands possessively down her back, over her buttocks to her long legs and back up again. She was busy doing the same to me. One hand lingered finally on my flat nipples while the other returned to the erection pressing against my stomach. I reveled in her touch, in touching her. I wanted this intimacy to last as long as possible, but I was fast reaching my limit. If she continued as she was, I would spill my seed in her hand, and I doubted she was ready for that, even as fast as she was taking to lovemaking. I pulled away enough to spoon her bacainsainst me, giving me unfettered access to her body. She started to protest, but her protests stilled when I tweaked her nipples before sliding one hand into the curls at the base of her stomach. My fingers explored her folds, finding them wet already with the evidence of her desire. I probed gently at her entrance, willing her body to react. When her hips rose in unconscious entreaty, I could have sung for joy. I added a second finger and probed deeper, seeking the barrier that would block my entrance. It was barely there, a testament to her time spent on horseback. Good. She would know only passion and none of the pain associated with Cuivië. She squirmed against me as I withdrew my fingers.

“Aníron…” she cried, tossing her head.

“What do you need?” I prompted softly.

“Aníron lle,” she answered.

I rolled her beneath me, positioning myself between her thighs. “Miqulo amin,” I said as my erection nudged her entrance. She leaned up to kiss me. I caught her lips, tongue surging into her mouth as I slipped inside her body. Just an inch. Just enough to give her a taste. Then I withdrew. “N’uma,” she cried, grabbing at my hips. My body agreed completely, so I moved a little deeper inside her, rocking as I did, to give her a chance to adjust to the intrusion. I felt her barrier give way, but I doubt she was even aware of it, for she gave no indication that she felt any pain. Still, I moved slowly, tenderly, thrust and withdraw, inch by inch sliding inside her tight passage. Finally, I was seated deep inside her, as deep as I could go. Amin mela lle. I said the words over and over in my heart as I rocked deep inside her, but they were words I could never say aloud. “Amin irmon lle,” I whispered instead.

Arwen moved restlessly beneath me, not satisfied by the gentle rocking of my hips. I picked up the pace, withdrawing more before thrusting back into her. She followed my lead easily, moaning and whimpering in delight. Soon I found that my body had a will all its own, that the rhythm was no longer mine to control as our bodies strove for completion. That moment, when it came, was the sweetest of my life. Her soft cries mingled with mine. Her essence mingled with my seed. Her dark hair mingled with my blond hair on the pillow as I collapsed beside her. If the world had ended at that moment, I would have been eternally happy.