Voices In The Dark

Title: Voices In The Dark

A/N: By this point you should know the drill...
Read as you like, Review as you will.
All are Tolkien's, but with my little twist.
Love those elves! Happiness is…
………………

I’m back from my vacation, and I had an absolutely wonderful time! Needless to say, I didn’t want to come back. But life must go on. (sigh) So here’s the next chapter; I think the longest one yet. But it’s my first slashy-type scene, so forgive me if it sounds a bit… romance novel-ish.
And thanks to both Keiliss and MorierBlackleaf for their advice on writing this stuff. Those two are excellent writers, and any faults are purely my own. (and the copious amounts of wine consumed to write this! *grin*)


Chapter 31: Love

Legolas was in the midst of dressing down for the evening when a knock sounded at his door.

"A moment please," he called, shrugging into a lightweight robe over his dark lounging pants. The dark green wrap was the gently shifting color of the shadows within Mirkwood's canopy, and had been a recent gift from his father. Legolas couldn't help but smile at the thought of his family. He had just returned from a six month stay, and his time spent home had been a joyous one. It had been seven years since the incident with Saeldis, and his father still tended to treat him with a sort of hesitant fragility. It was exasperating at times, but he knew it couldn't be helped. His father would learn in his own time.

And although they had bid him to stay, as they always did, he couldn't remain. He was drawn to Imladris as a moth to a flame, and he hoped that particular dancing light was now waiting outside his room. Tying the long gold embroidered sash he strode briskly to the door and swung it open.

"Glorfindel!" A grin lifted the woodelf's features and he beckoned the older elf inside. "I heard the patrols had come in, but had not expected you to stop by so soon."

Glorfindel stepped forwards, smiling at the younger elf's exuberance, and felt his own heart lift in response. "My reports were brief. There was nothing of import to tell besides a few roaming bands of orcs that had to be dealt with. Elrond told me you had returned."

"Yes. Only yesterday, in fact." Legolas turned and moved towards a settee placed near the balcony. It was his favorite spot to sit, and at times he even fell asleep in the soft chair's embrace. The scent of spring blossoms drifted in through the open doors carried on a warm breeze that held the promise of an early summer. The haunting melody of an elven flute could be heard, played by some mysterious elf out amongst the garden shadows. From the tender refrain it was most likely some romantic gently wooing a new love.

"Would you like some tea or some wine?" Legolas asked, pausing before a side table. A heated kettle of hot water and seeping herbs he had brought up not long before waited there.

"Tea is fine." Glorfindel replied, moving towards the settee. He knew that Legolas tended not to drink most alcoholic beverages, although he would have gladly gone to fetch some had the older elf wished. He complained that the effects were too similar to the muzzy-headedness that had accompanied his mind for so many years, thus avoided the drink.

Legolas poured the darkly brewed tea into two cups, and as Glorfindel passed behind him the clean scent of cedar wafted by his nose. His eyes closed briefly as an expression of serenity crossed his features, unseen by the passing elf. He loved that smell, and it was one that always seemed to haunt him when he was away from Imladris, reminding him of what awaited upon his return. It recalled him back to long nights curled up in the golden elf's comforting embrace, of the first kiss they had shared through Elanor's intervention and the many more after. They had never gone much further than a few kisses, much to Legolas' both dismay and relief. There were still parts of him that found Glorfindel's interest frightening, and they pressed for caution. Yet in the past several months while he had been away things had shifted, and he felt more ready to explore the depths of his feelings for his friend and guardian.

Legolas felt his cheeks redden slightly at the memories and opened his eyes just as the tea began to spill over the second cup. Silently cursing he set down the pot and grabbed a nearby piece of cloth, swiftly cleaning it up before Glorfindel could notice his mess. Thankfully the older elf's gaze was directed towards the open balcony, seemingly oblivious of Legolas' sudden inattentiveness.

"How does Mirkwood fare these days?" Glorfindel asked, accepting the steaming cup from Legolas before settling back in the chair with his long legs outstretched before him. The woodelf moved to sit beside him, one leg tucked beneath his body with the other raised and bent at the knee.

"Darkness continues to creep along the forest's borders," he said, taking a sip of his tea. "The orcs and spiders are growing ever more bold, yet our warriors continue to hold them back."

"And how are you faring?" Glorfindel passed him a sidelong glance. He knew Legolas' first few visits back to his home had been very stressful times. In Imladris those elves that had heard of the Mirkwood prince's strange condition had been surprisingly accepting of the situation. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so surprising given that their Lord was a master healer and their home a sanctuary to those in need. Such strange things, while not common, were not unheard of either.

The Mirkwood elves on the other hand tended to be a slightly more superstitious lot. Word had gotten out as eager gossip tends to do, with the full extent of the situation blurred or hidden, and of course uncertainty followed. Legolas had spent his first exhausting trip attempting to reassure those elves who had barely known him before the incident that he was well and wasn't going to fall into sudden fits of madness. While humorous at times, at others it was downright irritating.

Then there was also the added pressure of dwelling in the place where the torments had all originated, this time with nearly full memories of what had occurred. Walking into the room where his studies with the mad tutor had taken place had promptly made him nauseous, and thus he had avoided that particular room altogether. Thranduil, upon hearing this, had workers go in and completely tear it down, remodeling the room into a library of sorts. He swore he would do whatever it took to provide his son any comfort needed. The change had helped, but Legolas believed he could still feel malicious energies swirling about the place despite the renovation. So another change was made, and given that this room was set against an outer wall, a beautiful atrium was created. Legolas had been taken aback by his father's obvious care over his wellbeing, and as he listened to the peaceful whispers of the trees and plants growing there, he proclaimed the room finally clean.

"I am well," Legolas replied. "My family has become more relaxed, and thus I am able to relax as well. I have good news though." He ducked his head slightly while a grin slowly spread across his face. "While I was home Mórehua and Fánehua decided to become one."

Glorfindel sat up excitedly, nearly splashing his tea over his dark shirt. "That is fantastic!" This was the first such integration. Over the past seven years the spirits had grown and learned much regarding life. They were all becoming more and more alike as they each shared their individual awareness with each other. The pieces of Legolas' spirit that Estê had held within her care had returned as well the year before, immediately joining with one of the others. The entirety of his spirit was now together, and Elrond felt that a full integration was swiftly approaching.

"Was it planned, or did it just happen?" The older elf asked curiously, drying the wet fingers of one hand on the edge of his tunic.

Legolas shrugged, his own fingers playing along the simplistic designs of the cup now balanced on his knee. "They had already become so much alike that they suddenly decided one evening to bond together. It was simple, really. They just merged, their energies flowing together like..." He frowned, finding it difficult to describe. "... like water in two separate cups being poured into one urn. It is hard to explain, but they - or should I say he - is happy."

"And the rest of you?"

Legolas looked up from his hands to meet Glorfindel's questioning gaze. "It is good, and a relief. It is one more step closer towards our final goal." He took a sip of his drink, and watched Glorfindel do the same.

"And how does your back feel?" The older elf asked.

"A bit stiff, but otherwise it is doing well."

Glorfindel snorted dryly, knowing full well how much Legolas still disliked going to the healers with regards to his scarred flesh. Over the past several years he had definitely grown more comfortable with the scar’s presence, even to the point of swimming with the other elves during the hot summer months. All had already known of his discomfort, his body language obvious, so no one had commented beyond a simple, "It must have hurt." There had been no sidelong or darkly considering looks, only open curiosity and kindness much to Legolas' relief. Yet the healers were a different matter, and the woodelf had oft commented on how invasive their impersonal touch felt on his back. He would often avoid going, preferring to take care of the scars himself.

"Come," Glorfindel set his tea aside and grabbed a pillow off the settee. This he set down on the floor before him. "Where is the oil?"

"In the drawer." Legolas rose with an accepting smile, and walked over to retrieve the small bottle. "The scaring has reduced to a point that I felt I could deal with it myself."

Glorfindel's brow lifted, but he said nothing as he watched Legolas pick up the bottle, then once more cross the room to gracefully kneel upon the pillow at his feet. The oil was handed over before he loosened the tie on his robe, letting the silken cloth slide from his shoulders to pool on the floor about his knees. Glorfindel felt his mouth go dry at the gesture; a mix of beauty both innocent and sensuous. He found himself unable to move as the woodelf's hands came up to wrap about his loosely bound hair, pulling the long tresses forward over his pale shoulder. Candlelight flickered over his skin, the shifting shadows softening the healing flesh of his back and shoulder. A moments pause, and Legolas turned his head to look back at the golden elf sitting enrapt behind him. Twilight eyes flickering with tiny reflected flames met deepening cobalt, and Glorfindel was struck by the beauty of the unintentional pose. Had he been an artist he would have reached for his tools at once. As it was he could only stare in appreciation at the lithe warriors' body before him, at the way his sandy hair glinted gold in the candlelight, at the involuntary grace he held himself which only served to reflect the beauty of his soul. Even the persistent scarring seemed to add to the perfection of the pose for it told of strength through hardship, of felinity blossoming through an ordeal of fire.

The twilight eyes held a look of returned admiration mingled with curiosity and, as Legolas read the sudden hunger within the older elf's gaze, a touch of apprehension. It was that emotion that finally shook Glorfindel from his blatant appreciation. He knew that although Legolas had wished to pursue the feelings brought to light by that first kiss five years before, he feared the expressions of hunger and need that oft accompanied such things.

The older elf pulled his gaze away with a murmur of contrition, his normally sure fingers now fumbling with the oil-filled bottle. *Pull yourself together,* he chided himself. He felt as disconcerted as a young elf caught within the throes of his first love. They had performed this particular dance many times before; there was no reason this should be any different. Yet for the first time Glorfindel didn't trust his own self-control.

*I am merely tired,* he reasoned, pouring some of the darkly scented oil onto his hands. Legolas had turned his own head slightly away, biting his lower lip with a considering look on his face.

"Legolas?" Glorfindel questioned, setting the bottle aside. He started to rub his hands together, creating a pleasant warmth between them.

"Hmm?" came the distracted response, and Legolas turned his gaze once more upon the elf lord.

"Are you alright?"

Legolas lips broke out into a sweet smile that threatened to melt his heart once more. "Yes," he replied, then turned his head to stare out the open balcony window towards where the stars were just starting to appear in the darkened sky.

Taking a deep, calming breath Glorfindel moved his hands towards the exposed shoulder, pausing momentarily before slowly settling on the slowly healing flesh. His long fingers swept over the scar tissue, kneading and massaging not only the flesh but the muscles beneath until the body relaxed further under his touch. As he did so he spoke of his patrols; regaling the woodelf of minor skirmishes against pressing bands of orcs or of the humorous escapades committed by the twins while he was away. Legolas listened, not really paying attention to what was being said but taking comfort in the soothing sound of Glorfindel's voice. They had discovered early on that his mind was greatly eased by the constant vocal intonation; a reminder that the one he could not see, the one that touched his body, was not the now long dead Master Saeldis.

As he knelt there, head bowed slightly forwards, a familiar murmur of voices filled the back of his mind. The others were enjoying the older elf's ministrations as well, and their speech told of comfort and ease, of affection and languorous pleasures, of love.

Legolas' eyes widened slightly as he followed one of the thoughts to its source; unfocused as he listened to a concurrence of ideas; refocused on his half-clenched hands as his chest began to throb painfully. The idea, the feeling, was only unfamiliar in the words spoken, but had been present for longer than he could trace.

"I love you," he finally whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the room. Yet Glorfindel heard it nonetheless, his voice tailing off and his hands slowing to a stop. For several moments all movement ceased as an expectant silence filled the air; the words at once both fragile and intense drifting around them. This was the first such declaration of love either had expressed.

Then Glorfindel moved, lowering his head to rest his cheek along Legolas' silken hair. "I love you too," he whispered, and was surprised to feel a single tear of happiness steal from the corner of his eye to slowly fall down his cheek.

Neither moved for the longest time, each content to remain frozen in the joy-filled space created by the unexpected words. The world moved on without them: candles flickering in a sudden breeze, the sound of distant conversation wafting up from the gardens below, the mellow song of tiny frogs and crickets rising and falling in the night; yet all merely hung as counterpoint to the gentle and synchronous beating of their hearts.

Finally Glorfindel lifted his head with an affectionate sigh, allowing Legolas to turn and face his newly spoken love. His twilight eyes were filled with elation and wonder at the acknowledgement of his emotions, and of their reciprocation. With a single hand he reached up to touch the golden lord's cheek, to trace his lissome fingers along the still damp track left behind by single tear he had wept. With his other hand he cupped the side of his face, and Glorfindel smiled at the tenderness of the touch. Their eyes locked on each other, twilight meeting cobalt, emotions and desires laid bare for the other to see.

"I love you," Legolas repeated, this time in a tone more confident than before, although the wonder in his voice was still plain. Laughter could also be heard, born from pure joy which pulled at the corners of his lips until the woodelf was grinning broadly.

Glorfindel laughed, his voice echoing gaily through the room. He couldn't stop himself. The complete and utter delight in Legolas' face was nearly intoxicating, and he had the sudden urge to kiss the elf senseless. Yet Legolas seemed to have the same idea in mind, for before Glorfindel could move the younger elf leaned forwards to ply his mouth with his own ardent expression of joy. Glorfindel's response was immediate, eagerly returning the heated caress with his own. His hands he moved down to rest just above Leoglas' hips, feeling the silken flesh glide under one hand, while rough scar tissue slid beneath the other. He loved the two opposing sensations, slowly stroking the flesh with his fingers as his mouth ravished that of the elf before him.

Finally they both pulled back, breathing heavily into air-starved lungs. Legolas opened eyes he didn't know he had closed to look at his elf lord, to see Glorfindel's heavily-lidded eyes watching him with a considering expression on his handsome face. His breathing was quickened and his face flushed with what Legolas knew to be desire. The golden elf presented a beautiful sight in his arousal, and his own breathing deepened with both anticipation and nervousness.

The hands resting upon his narrow waist tightened, and suddenly Legolas found himself guided up onto the settee to sit beside Glorfindel. He was then gently pushed back until he lay with his head braced on the arm of the plush chair, his legs lifted to rest along its length. Glorfindel dropped down to kneel beside him, eyes shining with blatant admiration over the lithe form stretched out before his gaze. Legolas tilted his head back as the golden elf pressed heated kisses along the smooth line of his neck. Gasping softly, his hands rose to clench at Glorfindel's back, fisting the soft fabric as the Elda gently nipped and suckled the particularly sensitive flesh. Ripples of heat flowed down his body, each wave seeming to originate from every place Glorfindel touched only to pool achingly in his groin. It was that sensation of growing heat that caused him to close his eyes as memory surfaced.

The first time he had felt such heat and the unfamiliar sensation of his body responding to arousal had been swiftly followed by fear. It had happened while walking past the practice fields early one morning several years before. Sensing movement, he had looked over to see Glorfindel standing alone, practicing sword forms in the center of a sand-filled ring. He was clad only in a pair of dark breeches, which hugged his lean hips and muscular legs like a second skin. The sunbeams fell upon him in such a way his body seemed to glow in the golden light. Each movement he made was fluid, graceful, and precise, the sword merely an extension of his arms as he spun and leapt about the practice ring.

In the beginning it was only the beauty of form he had seen, but that was soon complemented by his feelings of affection, transforming into a slow aching heat that confused his senses. It was desire, and upon realizing the emotion that seemed intent upon snaring him within its grasp, he fled the area in fear. Was it not some twisted from of desire that Saeldis had held for him? He had been accused by the mad tutor many times of being the cause of his depraved lust. Now he felt himself similarly afflicted, and could not seem to reconcile the feelings pulsing through his veins with what he had been taught for so long. It was wrong, evil.

He had avoided Glorfindel after that, causing the others to wonder and worry. Yet while Legolas wouldn't speak of the problem, Ravan and Elanor had not been so recalcitrant. Elrond soon discovered the problem, and through their daily meetings, convinced Legolas that such feelings were in no way born of ill-intent. It was not desire which was good or evil, but the means of its expression that determined its worth.

Yet Legolas couldn't help the slight tightening of his muscles as Glorfindel's mouth dropped further, the hot tongue sweeping across his pectorals in a sensation that was pure bliss. That pleasure was suddenly sharpened as it brushed across his darkened nipple, the contact releasing a cry from his lips. This was already further than they had ever gone, and the resulting sensations went beyond anything he'd ever felt before. His nervousness increased as his arousal grew, testing his mind and will. He could feel all the spirits watching, hovering just beyond his consciousness. They were very interested in what was happening, and wished to be a part of it as well.

Glorfindel suddenly stopped, resting his head on the smooth skin of Legolas's chest while he struggled to pull himself under control. He had felt the nervous stiffening the body before him. They shouldn't be doing this. It could still be too soon, and with Legolas's mind still not fully healed he might inadvertently do the woodelf harm. Kisses were fine, as were a few gentle touches here and there, but this might only lead to something they might both regret. He loved Legolas; loved him too much to cause him injury however well-intentioned.

Legolas ran his long fingers through the silky strands of Glorfindel's hair, loving how it flowed through his hand like golden wine. He noticed the older elf had stopped his delightful ministrations, and wondered if something was wrong.

"Why do you stop?" He asked, uncertainty coloring his voice.

Glorfindel looked up to meet Legolas' gaze. "I do not think we should proceed any further. I would not wish to hurt you in any way."

Legolas smiled, immensely touched by Glorfindel's concern. It did much to relieve some of his apprehension, bolstering his courage considerably. "I do not think you will do me harm; you are too attentive for that. But I promise that if it becomes too much and I need you to stop, I will speak. I just..." his eyes flickered away momentarily, his nervousness now plain to see. "I wish to feel you. I need to know what I have missed. I wish for you to love me."

He said the last in a near whisper, and Glorfindel moved to cup the woodelf's face in his strong hands. "I do love you. I love you so much I hurt inside." He smiled, his dark eyes melting into a hazy softness. "I do not know when, or how, but this feeling has been inside me for a long time. I said nothing before because I did not wish to impede your healing or influence your choice in the matter."

Legolas released a slow breath, his lips curving upwards in a heartbreaking smile. "I know," he whispered. "I have known for a long time myself. It has only taken this long to understand what it meant."

"Oh, 'Las," Glorfindel's thumbs moved to caress his cheekbones, and Legolas leaned eagerly into the touch. "I do not know why the Valar chose to bless me with such a gift as you, but I thank them with all my soul."

The words flowed like heated liqueur through Legolas' heart, leaving a trail of blissful lassitude in its wake. He closed his eyes to savor each heartfelt word, each tender caress of Glorfindel's strong, sure fingers. He had never dreamed it could feel like this, that such wondrous emotions possibly existed. Of course, never before had he felt safe enough to open his heart this wide.

Glorfindel watched Legolas' reaction, his own heart swelling at the beatific expression on his face, at his lightly closed eyelids, at his slightly parted lips still dark from their earlier devotion, at his skin still flushed with lingering passion. He longed to worship every inch of that skin and savor the salty, musky taste of his body that brought to mind lush forests of fir and oak. He had become undone, and he knew it.

Leaning down he brushed first his mouth, then his tongue lightly across those parted lips. The only response was a slight pulling at the corners of said lips, indicating an attempt to cover a smile. Glorfindel chuckled deeply before teasingly licking at the velvety soft skin once more.

It became as a game; Legolas struggling to remain still while Glorfindel teased his mouth unmercifully, nipping and biting at the tender lips, his tongue taunting the unresponsive orifice. His hands lifted to trace along the outer edges of his sensitive ears, the light touch causing fresh waves of pleasure to burn through the woodelf’s soul. Finally Legolas could no longer control himself under the older elf's relentless assault. With a strangled moan he reached up, clenching his fist tightly in the back of Glorfindel's golden hair, and forced the taunting mouth down to meet his in a fierce display of need.

As their tongues danced Glorfindel's hands moved away from Legolas' ears, smoothly caressing his neck and shoulders, chest and abdomen. His calloused fingers passed over his hard nipples, rubbing the sensitive flesh and causing the leisurely heat slowly engulfing the willing woodelf to burn hotter. Legolas could feel the pressure building between his legs as his length swelled in response to the golden Elda's attentions.

Glorfindel's hand continued its downward travels until his fingers reached the pants that still covered the lower half of Legolas' body. As he continued to ply the line of the woodelf's jaw with teasing nips of his teeth, his hand loosened the ties which held the dark fabric in place. The younger elf's need was plainly evident through the loose silk, yet Glorfindel kept his movements slow, and once the ties where loosened he let his fingers gently pass upwards along the taunt abdomen. His own arousal was making itself known as well, but he ignored it. This would be Legolas' night, and he would find his own relief later. He needed to be certain he could indeed handle this first.

Finally he looked up, his eyes seeking Legolas' which had become nearly indigo with his pleasure. They were almost as dark as when one of the warrior personalities took control, but Glorfindel had long since learned that it was more than color with differentiated between the spirits, and he knew that while all were watching, it was still Legolas who was in control. As he trapped that nearly unfocused gaze with his own, his hands slid down to grasp the waist of the concealing pants. With one smooth motion he relieved them of Legolas' body as well as freeing the elf's straining shaft from its confines. Then he leaned forwards, one hand slowly caressed the woodelf's cheek as he watched for any sign to stop what he was doing. He could see a slight nervousness in the younger elf's eyes, and apprehension in his body, but that was only to be expected.

Glorfindel reached down and traced the fingers of his free hand along the Legolas' slender length, eliciting a shuddering gasp from the woodelf's lips. Legolas found himself shifting his body in response, instinctively trying to further the teasing contact. He found he needed more; needed to somehow release the steadily growing pressure burning its way through his body and coalescing within the throbbing length Glorfindel had awakened. He was drowning in sensation, his body almost trembling with anticipation while his soul floated in a sea of pleasure.

Suddenly Legolas felt the hand wrap itself firmly about his arousal, and his eyes fluttered shut in response. Too late he realized his mistake. In the blackness behind his closed eyelids another memory resurfaced, and the touch that had felt so breathtaking only moments before suddenly felt invasive and vile. It was impossible to say who began it; which personality felt the fear first and transferred his emotions to the others while assuming control. Yet it seemed to drown out all other sensation until he was once more reliving the horrid touch of their long dead tormentor.

"No-" he choked as he tried to twist away, the intense fear overwhelming his senses. His breathing was strained as he fought for air, panic causing him to hyperventilate. This couldn't be happening! Not again! He had to get away...

"Legolas. Look at me." The gentle voice wove its way though his mind, slowly pushing back the crushing terror, while fingers stroked his cheek reassuringly. "Open your eyes, 'Las, and look at me."

The woodelf's eyes blinked open, the color shifting through several hues before setting on the dark twilight. Compassionate cobalt orbs met his own, holding him within their vibrant depths once more. "Don't close your eyes, love. Don't slip away... It is only me."

Glorfindel continued to speak words of reassurance, the timbre of his voice low and soothing. His one hand remained wrapped about Legolas' flagging arousal, yet otherwise stayed completely motionless. His other hand continued to stroke the woodelf's flushed cheek, and Legolas' hand reached up to gasp it within his own; grounding himself in the radiant blue eyes, in the tender intonations, in his dark scent, in the warmth of his touch. Soon his breathing eased and the memories receded back into the depths of his mind.

"That's it, love. Relax." When Glorfindel felt Legolas' attentions had been sufficiently garnered, he finally moved his other hand, slowly but surely drawing it upwards along the semi-flaccid shaft. Legolas couldn't help but groan at the resulting pleasure this motion caused, his gaze flickering briefly downwards to seek the visual means of this erotic stimulation. The long fingers gently stroked the velvety skin, pulling at the darkened flesh. The pressure grew as Glorfindel continued to caress the now swollen arousal until Legolas feared he would break under the strain. His body reacted instinctively, moaning and thrusting under the searing touch. He could see the matched desire burning hotly in Glorfindel’s eyes, vocalized by his tender endearments of devotion. He fought to keep his gaze centered within the burning blue orbs when all he wished to do was close his eyes and drown in the sensations, in the impossible heat. Yet he knew to do so would only bring back the memories Glorfindel was holding at bay with his voice and his eyes.

He finally opened his mouth to tell Glorfindel to stop, that it was too much, that he couldn't possibly feel any more and remain unscathed, but the words never came. He suddenly felt his body give way, tightening and then releasing in a small explosion of energy. His words of cessation became an inarticulate cry of pleasure as his body arched upwards, eyes finally closing with an expression of rapture that looked near to pain.

Glorfindel watched the reaction, his heart nearly leaping to his throat at the expression of Legolas' release while his own body ached in response. His hand moved to stem the pearly flow that surged from the woodelf’s pulsing shaft as he leaned down to take the cry into himself; his mouth gently covering that of the woodelf's; lips parted to contain the ardent vocalization.

A sense of lassitude swept through Legolas's body in the wake of his release. Glorfindel started to pull away with one last kiss to his lower lip, but didn't get far. Legolas finally let go of Glorfindel's hand where it still enfolded his cheek to reach around and pull the elf closer. A soft curtain of golden hair fell around his face, tickling lightly and causing them both to smile.

"I love you," Legolas whispered. The words seemed too small in comparison to what he felt, but he couldn't find the ones to truly express his heart at the moment. His mind was still too muddled from Glorfindel's earlier devotions. Yet Glorfindel could read it in his shining eyes, and knew the full extent of Legolas' felicity. There was indeed nothing more that needed to be said.

Glorfindel then shifted, suddenly all too aware of his own body’s unrequited need. Legolas caught the movement, and glancing down he noticed the straining bulge between the other’s legs. A dark flush swiftly colored his cheeks as he realized the older elf’s discomfort and his own lack of attention to it. His apologetic eyes met Glorfindel’s, who only looked back with amusement.

“It is quite alright,” he smiled, settling back on his heels in preparation to rise. Although he struggled to hide it, his discomfort was quite plain. Yet he did not wish Legolas to feel obligated to do anything that might be beyond his means. Over the years he had become familiar with much of what the younger elf had been subject to. That they had achieved as much as they had tonight was more than he had expected; that he had been able to hold back the memories and hopefully create new, happier ones in their place brought him joy beyond that of physical pleasure. He did not wish to ruin what had already been wrought by the pressures of unspent need, especially when it was something he knew he could easily take care of on his own.

Yet Legolas could read through the conflicting emotions and wasn’t about to let his love suffer needlessly. So he slipped from the settee to kneel beside the golden Elda, his body still languid with the aftereffects of his experience. “Please. Let me do this,” he whispered, and reached down to place his hand over the straining bulge. He couldn’t help the tentative smile when he felt it twitch in response.

Glorfindel bit back a moan at the gentle touch. He knew it wouldn’t take much to achieve his own release, so he nodded in response. As long as Legolas seemed so willing, he would let him have his way.

Legolas removed his hand and after taking a deep breath, started to untie the laces holding Glorfindel’s breeches closed. Once they were halfway loosened he found himself hesitating. A frown creased his features in response while his mind struggled to discover the source of his vacillation and slight uneasiness. He was determined to see this through no matter what; he merely had to confront each problem as it came. After several moments his eyes lifted, traveling up the strong body still covered by the loose shirt to finally rest upon Glorfindel’s worried face. It was at that point that the answer came, and he responded to the look with a reassuring smile of his own.

It was the clothes. Saeldis had always been fully clothed throughout his torments, something which served to further impress upon him the feelings of submissiveness and helplessness. Now he was kneeling beside the golden elf completely unclothed while Glorfindel still wore the shirt and breeches he had arrived in. Such had not bothered him earlier for the situation had been so different. He had been receiving pleasure instead of being forced to give it; not that he was in any way being forced…

His hands lifted to the laces at Glorfindel’s neck, his nimble fingers swiftly loosening the silken ties. Then with the older elf’s assistance he lifted the shirt off, exposing beautifully sculpted muscles and Anor-kissed flesh to his view. He moved to toss the shirt aside, yet an inner voice caused him to pause. Glorfindel watched with a bemused expression as Legolas suddenly smiled, and then slipped the shirt on over his own bare body. The cloth was quite soft, and still clung to the warmth of the older elf’s body. It also smelled faintly of cedar, much to Legolas’ delight. It was a bit too large given that Glorfindel was taller and slightly broader across the chest and shoulders, yet Legolas liked the loose fit. The shirt’s large size covered enough of his body to ease some of his persistent nervousness.

Glorfindel could help but chuckle deeply, finding he enjoyed the sight of Legolas wearing his clothes. This particular dark blue shirt contrasted well with his paler skin, and it was just long enough to cover his nudity while still exposing much of the smooth flesh to his eye. He found the sight of Legolas kneeling beside him half clothed unintentionally seductive and erotic, and Glorfindel felt he might come from the visual stimulation alone.

Legolas leaned upwards to bestow a soft kiss upon Glorfindel’s lips while his hands slowly trailed down the Elda’s hard chest and abdomen. When he reached the half unlaced breeches he pulled his mouth away to focus his attentions back to his fingers. With a setting breath he finished untying the laces, finally allowing the slowly weeping arousal to lift free. He had never actually allowed himself to see this before. Even when he and the other warriors had bathed together he had studiously avoided looked at the other elves at hip level; an unconscious choice that he looked back at with bemusement. Now he could not help but see, and compare it with what he knew. Glorfindel was longer that Saeldis, and himself for that matter, but not as thick as the former tutor. Each noted difference brought with it a feeling of increasing ease. This might not prove so difficult after all.

Glorfindel waited as patiently as his body would allow. He watched Legolas watch him and refrained from moving, which was growing more difficult as time passed. The urge to finally succumb by taking himself in hand steadily grew and he struggled to fight it down. He needed to see what Legolas would finally do on his own; how he would react to this. This was Legolas’ game now, and he had to let him play it as he would.

Fortunately Glorfindel didn’t have to wait long before he felt tentative fingers touch the eagerly waiting arousal. Legolas watched with wonder as his touch caused the golden elf’s head to fall back with a gasp, eyes closed and hands clenched into fists. He grinned at the reaction, and adjusted his hand to grasp the velvety shaft more firmly.

It only took a few firm strokes before Glorfindel finally came, his spine arching back as his hips thrust upwards. Legolas’ name fell from his parted lips while his body shuddered under the woodelf’s firm grip. As the heavy trembling receded the older elf fell forwards onto his hands, his heavy breathing slowly returning to a normal rhythm. Legolas watched, feeling pleased with himself, yet stunned by the natural beauty and grace of Glorfindel’s reaction.

At last Glorfindel moved, his legs shifting from beneath him as he sought a more comfortable position with his back resting against the settee. Legolas immediately repositioned himself to curl up beside the older elf, head pressed against the damp chest. A strong arm lifted to encircle Leoglas’ shoulders, holding him tightly against his body as if suddenly afraid that all this was a dream that would disappear into mist come the dawn. The sound of Glorfindel’s heartbeat slowing sounded soothingly in Legolas’ ear as they rested in the comfortable silence.

And the night passed on without them…


Review responses:

Jasmine: Well, it didn’t go quite as you described, but will this work anyways? (grin) I love your suggestion though, and I always love opportunities for more angst.
And thank you; I had a wonderful trip. I went to New Orleans for a few days, and then drove around Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida for a few more. The weather was perfect, the ocean was perfect, the French quarter was perfect…what can I say? It was perfect! (grin)

Ertia: Thank you! One of my beta’s thought that part of that last chapter seemed extraneous, but I couldn’t just leave it out, and I couldn’t really explain to her why… my fault I suppose for having a non-fanfiction reader edit my stories. (smile) I’m glad you enjoyed it though, and I hope you liked this last one!

Eruve: Thank you for your review, and I’m so glad you’re enjoying this. It’ll pretty much be sweetness from here on out, unless I decide to go ironic…ooh, the ironic bug is crawling across my fingers again… No! Must resist! Ack!

Crookis: ‘Princess Bride!’ Yeah! You know, I just watched that movie again the other day for the umpteenth time. It’s one of my favorites. I love the part with Miracle Max and his wife. And the bit with the Albino. Ooh, and the Impressive Clergyman. He always cracks me up!

Yanic: Thanks! I’ve had that chapter in my head for quite some time actually. I’m glad it turning out as cute written as it did in my mind.

DarkDreamer: Ah, but I think ‘tis I who should be tipping my keyboard to you. I think your story is absolutely wonderful, and have been eagerly awaiting updates myself. But I thank you, and I’m really happy you have been enjoying mine so well.

MorierBlackleaf: Sorry, my pinky toe is already pretty damaged. If you’d like to just remove it, that would be fine since I’ve been threatening for years anyhow. (grin) But yes, I will be ending this very soon. One more chapter left, although it might end up being two depending on how long it goes. This was 12 pages, and they didn’t even go all the way! I hate to end it, but as with all things…
I do hope this last chapter meets with your expectations. I was told by my beta that it sounds completely unrealistic, like a romance novel. I’m here I’m thinking, what’s wrong with that? I like romance novels. And elves are realistic? *snicker* Ah well. And I really didn’t get into all the little personalities thing either. Hmmm… I wish I could have, but I was having a difficult time just with the other issues. I figured at this point they would all be in accord.