The Price of Pride
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
67
Views:
2,267
Reviews:
32
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
67
Views:
2,267
Reviews:
32
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 38
Elvish translations
Amin mela lle – I love you
Aniron lle – I desire you
Kamelon a’ lle – I will make love to you
Lirimaer – beautiful one
Lle naa vanima – you’re beautiful
Melethron – lover
Chr 41r 41
I took him in my arms as we reached the bed. I leaned forward and kissed him, slipping my tongue between his lips. He returned my kiss passionately. I pulled back to meet his eyes. “Now we finish it, lirimaer.” I supported his weight as I lowered him to the bed. He looked so delectable, lying there beneath me.
“No more interruptions?”
“No more.”
“No more ys?”ys?”
“No more. Kamelon a’ lle.”
“Saes,” he replied. “Aniron lle.”
“Aniron lle as well, Estel.” I ran my hand down his side, loosening the sheet I had earlier wrapped around his waist. He was everything I wanted, everything I desired in that moment. His eyes were half-closed, but I could see a glimpse of his eyes as he watched me. “Do not move, lirimaer.”
I rose from the bed and undressed in front of him. Then I dug in my pack for the vial of oil whose absence had hindered us earlier. I saw the slightest trepidation in his eyes as I placed it on the table. “I will not hurt you, melethron. Trust me, one more time.”
He nodded, but I could sense a tension in him that had not been there before. He was nervous, understandably. I needed to ease his nervousness and restore the desire that had reigned until a few moments ago. “Relax, lirimaer. This is for your pleasure. Let me love you.” I bent my mouth to the sensitive spot on his neck, behind his ear, that I had discovered the day of the archery contest. As always, the contact drove him wild. I bit softly at the skin, nibbling and sucking until he was writhing against me and I had raised a bruise under his skin. I licked my way down his chest. One hand clutched convulsively at my arm while the other lifted up over his head, arching his back and lifting his nipple to my mouth. I latched onto it, laving it with my tongue. He moaned with desire, the sound sending a fresh influx of blood to my own pulsing arousal.
When he was totally lost in his passion, I reached blindly for the oil. I dipped my fingers in the oil before trailing one finger down his erection, over the lightly furred sacs to the puckered entrance that waited, untouched, for my penetration. I caught his mouth with mine, distracting him from my probing finger as I caressed him, relaxing the tight muscle before slipping inside. He tensed a little at the unfamiliar intrusion, but did not pull back from our kiss. When he relaxed again, I pushed in a little more, ready to stop if he tensed again. I had promised not to hurt him, which meant taking my time and being careful now. To my relief, he did not tense, remaining supple and responsive beneath my lips. I pulled back before thrusting in again. His hips lifted to meet my hand and a hiss of pleasure passed his lips. Then my finger brushed the bundle of nerves inside him and he arched wildly on the bed.
“Do that again,” he panted. I obliged, sending him into another spasm of pleasure. He was so incredibly sensitive. I was humbled by the gift of him. I slipped a second finger in beside the first, expecting a return of the tension, but he gave no sign of anything but pleasure.
Slowly, I established a rhythm of thrust and withdrawal, taking care to brush his sensitive spot just often enough to keep him on the edge of ecstasy without pushing him over. He caught the rhythm, moving hungrily against my hand.
I waited until he was crying out, begging for more, before I added one more finger, stretching him wide enough to be able to receive me. He faltered, then, but I aimed for the little nub inside him, setting him afire again, so that he forgot about whatever pain he might have been feeling.
“Roll on your side,” I instructed, withdrawing my fingers and breaking the silence that had only been broken by his cries of passion. He looked startled. “It will make it easier this time. Trust me just a little longer, melethron.”
He did as I asked, rolling away from me. I stretched out along his back. I could feel the nerves return as I pressed up against him. I gentled him with a caress and a kiss, rubbing his lower back until he relaxed again. I wanted to tell him that I loved him. The words were on my lips, but I did not utter them. I still had one thing to do before I could make that commitment. “Lle naa vanima,” I whispered instead.
“Aniron lle,” he replied.
That was all the permission I needed. I set my shaft at his entrance, brushing against him, gauging his reaction. To my delight, he pushed back against me immediately, his movement causing me to breach him. He froze, the shock of penetration coursing through us both. The ring of muscle spasmed around the tip of my erection, forcing a gasp from my lips. I struggled not to thrust frantically into his hot depths, not wanting to hurt him in any way. I eased inside, inch by inch, stopping whenever I felt him tense, sure my heart would stop long before I was seated fully inside him. Finally, I was there, pressed tightly against him. I rocked gently, testing to see his reaction. When he did not tense, I relaxed my control and thrust into him with more force. He caught the rhythm, rocking back against me, cries of pleasure spilling from his lips.
When I felt my control fraying, I reached around his hip to grasp his erection, the motion of our lovemaking pushing him into my fist with every thrust. It took only a few thrusts in that position before he shouted in release. His muscles contracted around me, pushing me over the edge as well and I flooded him with my seed, letting out a hoarse cry of my own.
We lay there, panting for long minutes before we could regain control of our breathing. I slipped out of him gingerly, not wanting to cause him any discomfort. I got a napkin from the remains of our dinner to clean us up before snuggling back against Aragorn. Amin mela lle, my heart whispered as we settled in to sleep. My last thought before drifting off was that I was tired of not being able to say the words. ‘Soon,’ I promised myself. ‘Arwen will understand and then I can tell Estel what I feel.’ With visions of a lifetime in my mind, I fell asleep. Perhaps I was naïve to think that it would work, but there were so many things I did not know at the time. I did not know who he really was. I did not know that he the the one Elrond had foreseen. I did not know that I would not even have a year in which to call him mine.
Amin mela lle – I love you
Aniron lle – I desire you
Kamelon a’ lle – I will make love to you
Lirimaer – beautiful one
Lle naa vanima – you’re beautiful
Melethron – lover
Chr 41r 41
I took him in my arms as we reached the bed. I leaned forward and kissed him, slipping my tongue between his lips. He returned my kiss passionately. I pulled back to meet his eyes. “Now we finish it, lirimaer.” I supported his weight as I lowered him to the bed. He looked so delectable, lying there beneath me.
“No more interruptions?”
“No more.”
“No more ys?”ys?”
“No more. Kamelon a’ lle.”
“Saes,” he replied. “Aniron lle.”
“Aniron lle as well, Estel.” I ran my hand down his side, loosening the sheet I had earlier wrapped around his waist. He was everything I wanted, everything I desired in that moment. His eyes were half-closed, but I could see a glimpse of his eyes as he watched me. “Do not move, lirimaer.”
I rose from the bed and undressed in front of him. Then I dug in my pack for the vial of oil whose absence had hindered us earlier. I saw the slightest trepidation in his eyes as I placed it on the table. “I will not hurt you, melethron. Trust me, one more time.”
He nodded, but I could sense a tension in him that had not been there before. He was nervous, understandably. I needed to ease his nervousness and restore the desire that had reigned until a few moments ago. “Relax, lirimaer. This is for your pleasure. Let me love you.” I bent my mouth to the sensitive spot on his neck, behind his ear, that I had discovered the day of the archery contest. As always, the contact drove him wild. I bit softly at the skin, nibbling and sucking until he was writhing against me and I had raised a bruise under his skin. I licked my way down his chest. One hand clutched convulsively at my arm while the other lifted up over his head, arching his back and lifting his nipple to my mouth. I latched onto it, laving it with my tongue. He moaned with desire, the sound sending a fresh influx of blood to my own pulsing arousal.
When he was totally lost in his passion, I reached blindly for the oil. I dipped my fingers in the oil before trailing one finger down his erection, over the lightly furred sacs to the puckered entrance that waited, untouched, for my penetration. I caught his mouth with mine, distracting him from my probing finger as I caressed him, relaxing the tight muscle before slipping inside. He tensed a little at the unfamiliar intrusion, but did not pull back from our kiss. When he relaxed again, I pushed in a little more, ready to stop if he tensed again. I had promised not to hurt him, which meant taking my time and being careful now. To my relief, he did not tense, remaining supple and responsive beneath my lips. I pulled back before thrusting in again. His hips lifted to meet my hand and a hiss of pleasure passed his lips. Then my finger brushed the bundle of nerves inside him and he arched wildly on the bed.
“Do that again,” he panted. I obliged, sending him into another spasm of pleasure. He was so incredibly sensitive. I was humbled by the gift of him. I slipped a second finger in beside the first, expecting a return of the tension, but he gave no sign of anything but pleasure.
Slowly, I established a rhythm of thrust and withdrawal, taking care to brush his sensitive spot just often enough to keep him on the edge of ecstasy without pushing him over. He caught the rhythm, moving hungrily against my hand.
I waited until he was crying out, begging for more, before I added one more finger, stretching him wide enough to be able to receive me. He faltered, then, but I aimed for the little nub inside him, setting him afire again, so that he forgot about whatever pain he might have been feeling.
“Roll on your side,” I instructed, withdrawing my fingers and breaking the silence that had only been broken by his cries of passion. He looked startled. “It will make it easier this time. Trust me just a little longer, melethron.”
He did as I asked, rolling away from me. I stretched out along his back. I could feel the nerves return as I pressed up against him. I gentled him with a caress and a kiss, rubbing his lower back until he relaxed again. I wanted to tell him that I loved him. The words were on my lips, but I did not utter them. I still had one thing to do before I could make that commitment. “Lle naa vanima,” I whispered instead.
“Aniron lle,” he replied.
That was all the permission I needed. I set my shaft at his entrance, brushing against him, gauging his reaction. To my delight, he pushed back against me immediately, his movement causing me to breach him. He froze, the shock of penetration coursing through us both. The ring of muscle spasmed around the tip of my erection, forcing a gasp from my lips. I struggled not to thrust frantically into his hot depths, not wanting to hurt him in any way. I eased inside, inch by inch, stopping whenever I felt him tense, sure my heart would stop long before I was seated fully inside him. Finally, I was there, pressed tightly against him. I rocked gently, testing to see his reaction. When he did not tense, I relaxed my control and thrust into him with more force. He caught the rhythm, rocking back against me, cries of pleasure spilling from his lips.
When I felt my control fraying, I reached around his hip to grasp his erection, the motion of our lovemaking pushing him into my fist with every thrust. It took only a few thrusts in that position before he shouted in release. His muscles contracted around me, pushing me over the edge as well and I flooded him with my seed, letting out a hoarse cry of my own.
We lay there, panting for long minutes before we could regain control of our breathing. I slipped out of him gingerly, not wanting to cause him any discomfort. I got a napkin from the remains of our dinner to clean us up before snuggling back against Aragorn. Amin mela lle, my heart whispered as we settled in to sleep. My last thought before drifting off was that I was tired of not being able to say the words. ‘Soon,’ I promised myself. ‘Arwen will understand and then I can tell Estel what I feel.’ With visions of a lifetime in my mind, I fell asleep. Perhaps I was naïve to think that it would work, but there were so many things I did not know at the time. I did not know who he really was. I did not know that he the the one Elrond had foreseen. I did not know that I would not even have a year in which to call him mine.