Voices In The Dark

Title: Voices In The Dark

A/N: I would just like to once more express my thanks to everyone who has stuck with me on this little adventure; through my writing funks and my joys. It’s been an absolutely wonderful learning experience! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
And now, what everyone’s been waiting for… BAM!



Chapter Thirty-three: Bondings

As Glorfindel drew him on through the trees once more he couldn’t help but reflect upon how seamlessly the personalities had fused together. It seemed as if all the traits were now melded into this one spirit, forming a creature well-rounded in thought and emotion. Although Legolas hadn’t been this way for long, Glorfindel could still detect the remnants of various personalities that had once held their own form. It wasn’t in any singular fashion, but merely as a natural aspect of a whole: a mischievous smile that brought to mind sweet Elanor, or a turn of phrase that spoke of Ravan’s influence.

They finally emerged into a tiny glade surrounded by tall pines, thick firs, and newly leafed oaks. High above the stars shone with a brilliant radiance, gently illuminating both the dell and a small rippling pool caught along its edge. A tiny creek fed the pool from one end of the clearing before meandering off through the trees to eventually join with the much larger Brunien. Soft grasses carpeted the ground, dotted with tiny white flowers that seemed to mimic the nighttime sky.

As they stepped further into the clearing Legolas noted a soft blanket spread near the pool. Several plush pillows were scattered upon it, and a small basket lay to the side. Obviously someone had already been planning ahead.

“Now I see why you desired to wait,” Legolas laughed. “This is certainly more comfortable than a bed of pine needles.

Glorfindel grinned. “I am glad you approve.”

Legolas walked forwards, drawing a deep breath of the cool night air while his eyes continued to rove about the clearing. “It is so lovely here. How did you know we would do this tonight?”

“I did not. I had merely thought we might spend an evening together beneath the stars. I never imagined what this night could bring…” Glorfindel’s voice trailed off, his hands lifting to place them upon the younger elf’s shoulders, squeezing lightly as he did so. “Would you like to begin this now?” he asked, his breath tickling Legolas’ ear.

“Oh yes,” Legolas replied, turning his head to look up at the taller elf. “Do you have your knife?”

Wordlessly Glorfindel lowered one hand to his belt, removing the knife sheathed there and handing it hilt first to his love. He knew what would be done, the steps to be taken, but was content to let Legolas take the lead since the woodelf was more familiar with what was needed.

“Come then,” Legolas took the blade, tucking it into his boot before grasping Glorfindel’s free hand in his own. He drew the golden Elda towards the nearest tree, which happened to be a dark fir decorated with the bright green of new growth. Ducking beneath its low hanging boughs, they slipped into the shadowy cavern created by its heavy limbs where large mushrooms grew in the moist quiet. Upon reaching the trunk Legolas placed a single hand upon the tree’s rough bark.

Silence flowed about them, but Glorfindel could sense something happening just beyond his hearing. Legolas was asking for the tree’s blessing, and he could almost hear the words passing gently through his mind. After several moments a feeling of approval and acquiescence passed through their joined hands, which caused Glorfindel to lift his eyebrows in wonder. He knew the woodelves held a strong connection to the trees, beyond that of what other elves possessed, but he had never felt anything quite like this. He watched as Legolas bowed his head in reverence and mimicked the movement, sensing it was the proper thing to do.

Together they moved out from beneath the heavy boughs, stepping carefully around roots and fungi protruding from the damp ground. Glorfindel felt his hand released, and then waited while Legolas lifted the knife to trim two small twigs from the thick branches, each barely as long as his hand. Once finished, he handed the soft, bright green pieces of fir to Glorfindel before they moved on to the next tree. These actions were repeated, gathering the blessings and tokens from fir, oak, pine, and even a tall pussywillow growing along the creek, still swollen with soft grey nubs.

When they finished, the small twigs were brought to the blanket and laid reverently down upon the green grass nearby. Then Legolas straightened and Glorfindel couldn’t help but bring his head forwards to place a gentle kiss on the woodelf’s pliant lips before reaching for his clothing. His long fingers made quick work of the clasps holding the woodelf’s tunic closed, and in no time Legolas was divested of both his tunic and undershirt. The breeches came next, until the elf was standing nude before him, lithe body standing straight, proud, and nearly unblemished. Only a hint of scarring remained on his back, a patch of flesh only slightly paler than the rest of him. Legolas’ lips quirked upwards in a smile as he watched Glorfindel stare back at him, delighting in the devotion he could read in the cobalt eyes. He didn’t think he could ever get enough of the respectful adulation the older elf bestowed upon him, nor the reverent hunger that burned within.

Legolas shifted forwards to slowly divest Glorfindel of his clothing, taking his own joy from the sight of the Anor-burnished flesh being slowly exposed before him. He then placed the darker garments with his own before reaching for the Elda’s hand. Together they walked to the starlit pool, easing themselves down into the surprisingly tepid waters. Legolas realized there must have been several small underground springs feeding the pool for it to be as warm as it was.

They bathed in the crystal waters, cleaning their skin with the soft sand that shifted pleasantly beneath their feet. It was both ritual and pleasure, for neither elf could keep his eyes or hands off the other for long. Laughter bubbled up as solemnity broke into jocosity; a playful spirit infecting both the elves until for the moment both forgot their purpose and cavorted through the water like elflings. No woodelf rite was without its fun, and the Valar smiled down upon the lightness of their hearts. A game of dunking promptly ensued, Legolas setting about to prove his earlier comment correct about his greater agility to Glorfindel’s strength. He dove beneath the rippling waters, tweaking the golden elf’s ankle or knee from beneath him and flitting away before he could be caught. Such cavorting lasted only until Glorfindel finally grasped ahold of Legolas, clutching the struggling, laughing elf to his chest. A few moments more and all struggle ceased as longing swept over their bodies, and Legolas ceded the impromptu game, stealing a kiss from Glorfindel’s sweet lips before reluctantly pulling away.

“Come,” he said as Glorfindel released him, and together they climbed from the pool, sloughing off the excess water with their hands and squeezing it from their long hair. Legolas paused to gather a handful of grasses growing about the edges of the pool before they finally made their way back to the blanket.

The grasses and twigs were gathered together as they knelt before one another on the soft cloth. Glancing up, Legolas couldn’t help but smile as he gazed upon his love, noticing a few bright droplets of silver still glistening on his warm flesh. He wished to kiss them away, but knew should he do so, they might never return to their other purpose. So instead he looked away, and with nimble fingers he began to weave the grasses into a twisted length, entwining it with the dark green pine, brighter fir, soft willow, and newly sprouted oak. Words barely audible to elven hearing were whispered; intonations of love, protection, health, and stability set within the lengthening strand. Glorfindel observed the intricate weave carefully at first, watching the pattern form before taking the loose end into his own hands and plaiting it longer.

When finished they tied off the ends, Legolas taking up the length and standing, He took a deep breath as he did so, eyes shifting to gaze once more upon his love. Glorfindel rose as well, taking up his silvered knife.

“Are you ready?” he asked, to which Legolas silently nodded. Yet the glinting twilight eyes showed his joyful anticipation clearly as he took Glorfindel’s free hand and led him back towards the edge of the pool. The garland was placed on the ground at their feet, along with the blade. Legolas then proceeded to reach down and grasp a handful of rich soil. This he placed half in Glorfindel’s waiting hands, fingers momentarily entwining as he did so. Together they spoke, their voices soft and sure in the tranquil night.

“We ask the warm soil of Arda to bless this union.”

For a moment the scent of Arda’s rich bounty seemed to sweep about their reverent forms, and Glorfindel looked up at the woodelf with surprise in his eyes. Legolas merely winked playfully at the Elda’s discomfiture, then moved to scatter the soil around their feet. Glorfindel immediately followed suit, then watched as Legolas dipped his hands into the shimmering waters beside them, fingers cupped to capture a tiny pool of silver in his palms. Half he poured into Glorfindel’s hands before they spoke again.

“We ask the bright waters of Arda to bless this union.”

A moment’s pause, and then it felt as it the trees around them released their dew, casting tiny droplets of water over the nude forms of the two elves below. Glorfindel again looked startled, not expecting such a response. Legolas couldn’t help but laugh brightly at the golden Elda’s reaction before letting the water trickle from his fingers back into the pool.

Next he lifted both hands towards the sky, body stretching pleasantly. If ever the woodelf looked more like a wild spirit it was now, with his lithe body bathed in silver and hands lifted to honor the heavens. Glorfindel found himself smiling despite the strange and unexpected responses nature was bestowing upon them, and he mimicked the movement. When he had spoken to the other woodelves of their ways concerning a traditional bonding ceremony, they had told him of the words to speak and the actions to perform, yet nothing more but for the odd advice: ‘No rite is set in stone; do not be afraid to laugh.’ None had spoken of this, and Glorfindel’s heart grew light as each element answered and blessed their intended union.

“We ask the flaming stars to bless this union!”

This time Glorfindel couldn’t suppress a gasp as at that moment two streaks of light shot across the sky. Laughter crept up from within, and he couldn’t help but give in to it. Legolas turned his gaze towards his love, his own joviality echoed in his glinting eyes. Together they moved to clasp hands, lifting them once more upwards before intoning one last time.

“We ask the joyful winds to bless this union!”

Immediately a playful breeze responded, merrily dancing about the two figures before disappearing into the night. Both elves smiled at each other, lowering their hands slowly. Then Legolas bent down and picked up both the knife and the garland. Keeping his gaze locked on the elf before him, he passed the knife over his palm, leaving behind a shallow cut that slowly welled with crimson drops. The knife was then passed to Glorfindel, who repeated the gesture. As one they brought their cut hands together, clasping each other’s fingers tightly. As they wound the leafy garland about their hands, Legolas spoke, his voice soft, yet clear and poignant.

“Flesh to flesh, blood to blood, spirit to spirit; with the blessings of Arda and the grace of the trees I bind myself to you, Glorfindel of Imladris, formally of Gondolin, in life and after. May the Valar bless this union.

Legolas’ sparkling eyes shone bright with emotion he could barely contain. As he spoke the words, a strange warmth seemed to build between their clasped hands, a feeling which only intensified as Glorfindel lifted his slightly deeper voice to speak.

“Flesh to flesh, blood to blood, spirit to spirit; with the blessings of Arda and the grace of the trees I bind myself to you, Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood, in life and after. May the Valar bless this union.”

As the last words slipped from his lips, the tingling heat building between their hands burst forth to sweep over their bodies. It was the heat of midsummer when all of Arda’s bounty lifted its arms in reverence to Anor’s brilliant light; of a dancing fire during the cold months when snow covered the frozen ground and icy winds blew in from the north; of friendship that lasted the length of time despite distances and obstacles placed between; of passion between two creatures in the throws of love. It was both golden and white, languid and wild, a fusing of bodies and minds into a single luminous whole.

As the heat slowly dissipated, sinking with fiery tendrils into their flesh, Glorfindel leaned forwards to capture Legolas’ lips with his own, and was met with returned hunger. Eager kisses were exchanged, mouths devouring and tongues dancing in a breathless union. They were now bound.

Finally they pulled apart, although their eyes remained trapped within each others. Emotions and ideas too fragile to be called thoughts passed between them, through the bond created by them and blessed by the Valar. Love, joy, and above all, an overwhelming completeness. Legolas couldn’t help but draw a shuddering breath. It was done. There were only two last things to be done, and one of them merely an afterthought of the more important rite already completed.

Glorfindel shifted his eyes away, and Legolas watched with amusement as the bright blue orbs momentarily grew wider. Suppressing a chuckle, he followed his bonded’s gaze to their joined hands. The garland that had entwined them together had flourished; the greenery growing into a wild tangle of foliage and the twigs of willow sprouting tiny white flowers.

“I know of a good place we can plant these,” Legolas murmured, gently pulling the garland off.

“Does it always happen like this?” Glorfindel asked as he helped detangle their hands.

Legolas shrugged. “More or less.” He looked up at the Elda with a grin. “You were not expecting so much, I can tell.”

Glorfindel shook his head. “Imladrin bondings tend to be a bit…less; with not quite as much spiritual intervention. Less personal and more public I suppose, although I’ve heard they do get more personal later.”

“Indeed?” Legolas lifted an eyebrow in direct resemblance to a certain dark-haired healer. He had heard stories from Glorfindel of Elrond’s bonding to Celebrian, and of Celebrian’s mother presiding over the ceremony like a sharp-eyed hawk, creating an air of nervousness around the entire event. The tales told of how afterwards Celebrian personally made up for Galadriel’s intervention, and such was how the twins were conceived.

Glorfindel laughed. “Yes. Indeed.” The garland was finally pulled away, and their hands reluctantly parted. The golden Elda couldn’t help but note that the cut along their palms had completely healed but for a tiny leaf-shaped mark at the very center; a lasting sign of their union to each other.

Legolas took the garland and placed the ends of the newly rooting twigs in the moist soil at the water’s edge where they would be safe. Later he and Glorfindel would plant them in a protected location where they could grow into large and healthy trees, forever a reminder of this magical night.

Together they walked back to the blanket, hands automatically clasping each other’s once more, and settled themselves upon it. Glorfindel silently gestured towards the waiting basket and Legolas curiously pulled the wicker container closer. While it was still to early in the season for most fruit to be found, several winter apples were laid inside, along with a clay pot of honey, and a carafe of rosewater. His massage oil was also placed within, since although his back was healed, the woodelf still enjoyed the feel of Glorfindel’s hands along his flesh.

Legolas peered back up at the golden Elda, his eyes glittering with mischievousness. “Apples and honey? This could get messy.”

“Perhaps…” Glorfindel reached over to select one of the green fruits out of the basket. Picking up his knife he deftly segmented the apple and set it aside. Then he reached for the pot of honey. Legolas watched as it was opened, Glorfindel picking up one of the apple pieces, and dipping it into the viscous golden substance before lifting it to Legolas’ mouth. Obligingly he parted his lips to accept the gift, savoring the combination of thick sweetness and juicy tartness that the combination of apple and honey provided. Legolas hummed his pleasure, then picked up another piece of apple, dipped it into the sweet honey, and brought it to Glorfindel’s mouth in return. Yet instead of placing it between his waiting lips, Legolas brushed it across his nose, leaving behind a streak of pale gold.

Glorfindel made a disgruntled sound, pulling back slightly. Legolas bestowed a playful grin, and then leaned forwards to kiss the mark, cleaning away the honey with his tongue. Those lips then moved downwards to capture the golden elf’s mouth. He decided he rather enjoyed apples and honey, especially when served with his new mate.

Glorfindel could taste the sweet honey in Legolas’ mouth as he pressed the woodelf back, laying him out upon the blanket with a pillow placed under his head. Releasing the heated lips, he once again picked up the clay pot. Legolas’ darkened eyes grew wide as it was brought over his chest, the pot tipping so that the thick liquid was slowly poured down his chest in a thin trail. Glorfindel finally stopped just above his rapidly burgeoning arousal, pooling the honey thickly along his abdomen. Legolas bit his lower lip in anticipation, a gesture the older elf found unbelievably alluring. Setting the pot aside, he took the piece of honey-dipped apple from his beloved’s hand and lifted it to his own mouth. He took a bite, taking pleasure in the delectable sweetness before lowering his head to capture Legolas’ lips once again. The incredible flavors were shared between them: sweet honey and tart apple, pungent cedar and heady evergreen.

Glorfindel finally shifted away from Legolas’ eager mouth to traverse down towards where the trail of honey began. Like a large cat with a bowl of cream he slowly lapped up the sweetness with his tongue, causing the woodelf to involuntarily writhe in pleasure. His hands clenched briefly at his sides before moving to stroke the golden Elda’s hair, occasionally kneading with his fingers as Glorfindel’s tongue brushed past his erect nipples and delved lower along his sensitive navel. His body burned with desire and anticipation; his flesh tingling with every lap of his beloved’s tongue.

Glorfindel reached the end of the sweet trail just above the swollen arousal and paused, reaching once more for the pot of honey. He could see Legolas’ breathing quicken as he captured the passion-hued gaze, a look in the woodelf’s eyes that caused his own desire to burn brightly.

With a cheeky smile, Glorfindel sat up, bringing the pot to hover just above Legolas’ waiting shaft. The quickened breathing stopped, breath suddenly held silently within as the pot was tipped and the thick, viscous liquid was slowly dripped over the heated flesh. A strangled moan burst from Legolas’ lips as his breath was swiftly released. The sensation was exquisite as the honey slowly flowed down the overly sensitive arousal, a sensation suddenly compounded by the gentle rasp of Glorfindel’s tongue.

Honey set aside once more, Glorfindel began to happily clean up the mess he created, delighting in the sibilant sounds coming from his love as his tongue swirled upwards around the stiff arousal, seeking to capture each golden drop. Legolas struggled up onto his elbows that he might gain a better view. He could see that his love was as aroused as he, but he had long since discovered that Glorfindel had a skill for keeping himself under control, despite his almost painful need. Hips shifted, seeking some sort of release, and the golden Elda cheerfully obliged, taking the shaft fully into his mouth. Legolas couldn’t help but allow his head to fall back with a groan as he was enveloped in a delicious warmth. He could feel his body tightening in response, and knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Heat surged, and his hips involuntarily bucked, seeking a motion dictated by pure instinct.

Glorfindel could feel Legolas’ release approaching so he pulled away, licking away the last drops of honey clinging to his lips. Legolas released a needy whimper as his pulsing arousal met cool air once more, and watched hazily as the older elf reached for the basket. The vial of oil was withdrawn, its original intent forgotten as a new use was sought after. The darkly scented oil was poured over Glorfindel’s long hands, the vial carefully set aside as he maneuvered himself to kneel between Legolas’ spreading legs. The woodelf then watched as a single hand descended, disappearing from his view, before turning his gaze back to the cobalt eyes intently gazing upon him.

“Relax,” Glorfindel murmured, and placed a single finger at the tight opening, rubbing gently at the ring of flesh. His other hand found Legolas’ turgid shaft and began to stroke it in time with the caressing of his finger.

Legolas couldn’t help but arch his back at the duel assault, a touch nervous still about the single finger, but nearly undone by the experienced hand guiding his pleasure. A gasp escaped his lips as he felt the finger suddenly press inwards, pushing past the muscle until it was sheathed within his body.

The feeling of intrusion was slightly uncomfortable, but he kept his gaze focused upon Glorfindel as he had long since learned to do when something uncertain was dealt to him. The hand wrapped about his arousal continued to stroke the turgid flesh until his body relaxed and he nearly forgot about the finger until a second was added.

His brow furrowed as the pressure increased, the discomfort slight but insistent. He could feel the fingers moving carefully within him as if seeking something beyond his ken, and only his absolute trust in his mate kept him from pulling away.

Suddenly something burst within him, and he cried out as pleasure shot through his body. Whatever Glorfindel had sought he had found, and Legolas cried out again as the tiny bundle of nerves was stroked once more. Glorfindel had told him that there was indeed pleasure to be found in this, although Legolas had never truly believed it to be so. Too much pain had he suffered through such ministrations. Now he believed, and found his hips moving in response, wanting more, needing more... He was vaguely aware of a third finger breeching his body, gently stretching the slowly relaxing passage while the other hand continued to stroke his unflagging need.

When Glorfindel felt he had sufficiently prepared the now relaxed opening he picked up the vial and once more poured the musky oil into his hands. This was smoothed over his own gently weeping arousal, liberally coating it with the silky warm liquid. Then he moved up to place a tender kiss on Legolas’ parted lips.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” came the whispered reply, all uncertainly gone from his voice as he stared with trusting eyes at his bonded mate.

Glorfindel nodded once, shifting Legolas’ legs and bending them further for ease. He then aligned himself against the prepared opening, keeping his gaze centered upon his love with one hand softly caressing the smooth skin of his hip. Slowly he pushed forwards, sinking himself into the velvet heat. A soft gasp escaped Legolas’ lips at the discomfort of being so breached by the Elda’s length, but held on to Glorfindel’s touch and the brightly burning passion lighting the beautiful eyes.

Within a short time Glorfindel had sunk himself fully into Legolas’ pliant body, savoring the exquisite tightness that clutched his arousal yet keeping his mind fully aware of his bonded’s expressions and the emotions that seemed to pulse through his mind. He paused, sensing the discomfort and waiting for the woodelf to adjust to his length. His lips sought out Legolas’ in a fierce kiss while his hand moved to caress the rigid shaft, waiting to feel the muscles loosen slightly around his own need.

Finally he moved, pulling back slightly before pushing in once more, aiming for the small bundle of nerves he had found earlier. A gasping cry and the feel of hands tightening around his upper arms proved that he had hit his mark. Legolas’ legs automatically lifted to entwine about Glorfindel’s waist, his body seeking what his mind was vaguely aware of. The feeling of being filled, of knowing pleasure from such fullness instead of pain, was incredible to him. Coupled with the sensation of being fused with his bonded, he knew there could be no greater bliss.

Legolas’ hand moved to trace his fingers along Glorfindel’s cheek. “My love,” he whispered with passion glazed eyes, hips seeking then finding a gentle rhythm against his mate’s. Glorfindel turned his head slightly to kiss those fingers, suckling the tips gently and letting his eyes speak of his returned devotion.

They slowly rocked together, two lovers bound in synchronicity. Passion continued to flare as heat drove their bodies onward; sweat slowly beading along furrowed temples from their careful efforts. It didn’t take long before a tightening of both bodies heralded a long awaited, yet slowly sought after completion. Movements grew more erratic, the push and pull of flesh against flesh growing more heated until steadily increasing waves of pleasure swept over their bodies. Both elves cried out their release, seed flowing both within and without as bodies spasmed from the exploding pressure.

A few final strokes and they collapsed within each other’s arms, lungs straining for air. Glorfindel gently pulled free of Legolas’ body, rolling to one side before gathering his beloved into his arms. A feeling of sweet contentment passed through his soul, unlike anything he had ever experienced. “I love you,” he whispered, placing a kiss upon the woodelf’s damp brow.

Legolas smiled, mind hazy, body tired, but his heart light; so light in fact that he couldn’t stop the bright laughter from escaping his lips. Glorfindel looked at him curiously, and then chuckled as well. The elf’s laughter was infectious.

“I love you too” Legolas replied, his amusement finally settling, and he lowered his head to snuggle against his beloved’s warm chest. Legs remained entwined as they observed the stars gazing down from above, both content to merely lay back and let them watch. The two elves had an eternity of nights such as this to spend, held close in each other’s arms, savoring each other’s nearness and the completeness of their bond. They had an eternity, and would savor every moment of it… together.

~The End~

*sniff*


I suppose I'll just have to hurry up and start the next story....


Review Responses:

Yanic: Actually, that was one of my favorite lines as well. I think I had it written before I even started the chapter… *grin* One of those late night, half asleep, pull out the tape recorder in the dark moments.
I hope you find this chapter satisfying. Pulling it out of my mind was pure torment in itself. I’m exhausted! *smile*

MorierBlackleaf: Yup, this is it! *sigh* In truth I found it more difficult to end than I expected. Glorfindel and Legolas just wouldn’t let it be! And when they brought out the apples and honey (curiosity satisfied? *grin*), I thought they would NEVER get to it! For a moment there I thought I might have to put my foot down! Ah well, let them have their fun. It’s over, and now I can start tormenting the Lorien Brothers. *evil grin*

Ertia: Yeah, I like cuteness too. *grin* I hope you liked the bonding, and the after… :-)