The Price of Pride
folder
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
61
Views:
1,881
Reviews:
53
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
61
Views:
1,881
Reviews:
53
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 39
Elvish translations
Im irmon chen – I desire you
Im malion uum – I do not care
Im naer – I’m sorry
Mankoi – why?
Melethron – lover
Ae syntrea chen – please
Tyaavo nin – touch me
Veston – I promise
Chapter 39
I supported him in my arms until the tremors wracking his body eased. I sank with him to the grass, kissing him in delight at his responsiveness. When I noticed he was not responding, I sat up a little to look at him.
“Estel?”
No response.
“Melethron?”
Still no response.
He would not even meet my eyes. I was growing concerned. What had I done wrong? Everything that had passed between us had led me to believe that he wanted this, wanted me, as much as I wanted him. Had I been wrong? “Look at me, melethron. Tell me what is wrong.”
Still, he hesitated. “Whatever it is, melethron, you can tell me. Ae syntrea chen.”
Finally, he looked up, mortification clearly written on his face. “Im naer, Legolas. I could not…” A blush crept us his cheeks as he struggled to finish the sentence. “I lost…” And then I understood. He was embarrassed at his response. At his apparent lack of control.
I pulled him tight against me cuddling him in my arms. “Oh, melethron, you have no reason to apologize.”
“But I wanted to…”
“To what, melethron?”
“To…make love with you.”
I smiled at his innocence. “We did make love, Estel. We are still making love.”
“I lost control!” he wailed, still obviously upset.
I clearly needed to try another tack. “You did,” I answered, letting satisfaction lace my tone. “Do you have any idea how arousing that is to me? That I could make you lose control?” He gave me a blank look.
“But you did not… you have not…”
An idea formed. “Would it make you feel better to return the favor? To make me lose control as well? You can, you know. You did last night, before Elrohir interrupted us. Would you like that, Estel, to push me beyond the limits of my endurance? You could do it.”
That idea apparently held some appeal because the embarrassment left his face to be replaced again by desire. I rose and offered him a hand. “Tolo, melethron, the waterfall is waiting.”
Aragorn took my hand as he got to his feet. I fingered his leggings. “These need to go.”
He stripped off his leggings and followed me into the river. The current was swift where we entered, knocking me against him. Our bs brs brushed, naked skin against naked skin. Now it was my turn to tremble. “See?” I murmured. “You have the same effect on me.” When we reached the pool at the base of the waterfall, the current eased a little, allowing us to stand side by side without bracing ourselves. We moved under the waterfall, soaking our hair and bodies. Aragorn reached for me tentatively, watching my reaction carefully “Tyaavo nin,” I said, giving him the permission he seemed to need. His hand cupped my cheek before trailing down across my chest to my groin, a heated contrast to the cool water still flowing over me. His touch was so light as to be torture. I endured those whisper light caresses combined with the caress of the waterfall for a few minutes, but I needed more. “Nornin,” I pleaded. He looked panicked again. I closed my hand over his anowedowed him how to pleasure me. He was a fast learner, soon finding a rhythm that had me balanced on the cusp of ecstasy. As he gained confidence, he leaned forward and kissed me. The hot velvet of his tongue against mine was enough to break me. I threw my head back with a shout as I shivered against him, finding release. When I could focus on him again, I saw the earlier mortification and hesitation replaced with smug satisfaction.
The sensual tension between us temporarily abated, we turned to bathing. Of course, helping each other bathe restored our passion quickly. Aragorn stepped into the waterfall to rinse himself clean before plunging into the pool. I watched in open-mouthed desire as he reappeared out of the water. His head tipped back as he slicked his hair back, exposing the line of his neck, curving his body into a delectable arc. That was tempting enough. When he bent to scrub at his foot, I stopped resisting the lure of his body. I dove into the pool, coming up behind him in two strokes. “Im irmon chen,” I murmured in his ear, pressing my burgeoning erection against his buttocks.
“Im irmon chen,” he replied, turning in my embrace. I kissed him, then led him toward the shore. I had drawn this out long enough. It was time. We sank down onto the thick grass, bodies rubbing together as our passion reignited. I kissed my way down his body, teasing him with tongue and teeth, as I sought my target. He was fully aroused again by the time I reached his hips. I ran my tongue lightly along the crease between hip and thigh. He spread his legs, giving me unfettered access to his most intimate places. I raised my head, looking for my pack where I kept the oil for my whetstone. It would serve to ease my way. My pack was not in the clearing. I had left it in the room in at the inn when we first arrived. That left me with nothing I could use to prepare him. If we had been long-standing lovers, I would have improvised, but I would not risk hurting him, even injuring him.
“We have to go back to the inn,” I whispered against his stomach as I fought for control.
“Mankoi?” he asked, desperation in his voice.
“I left my pack there. I fear I would hurt you without the oil that is there.”
“Im malion uum,” he moaned, thrashing beneath me.
“I will not hurt you,” I repeated. His howl of frustration could probably have been heard back in the village. I pulled away from him.
“Get dressed,” I told him. “We will go back to the inn.”
“And we will finish this,” he stated, implacably as he began to dress. Though I knew it not ae tie time, I heard the voice of the King of Gondor for the first time that day.
“Veston.”
Im irmon chen – I desire you
Im malion uum – I do not care
Im naer – I’m sorry
Mankoi – why?
Melethron – lover
Ae syntrea chen – please
Tyaavo nin – touch me
Veston – I promise
Chapter 39
I supported him in my arms until the tremors wracking his body eased. I sank with him to the grass, kissing him in delight at his responsiveness. When I noticed he was not responding, I sat up a little to look at him.
“Estel?”
No response.
“Melethron?”
Still no response.
He would not even meet my eyes. I was growing concerned. What had I done wrong? Everything that had passed between us had led me to believe that he wanted this, wanted me, as much as I wanted him. Had I been wrong? “Look at me, melethron. Tell me what is wrong.”
Still, he hesitated. “Whatever it is, melethron, you can tell me. Ae syntrea chen.”
Finally, he looked up, mortification clearly written on his face. “Im naer, Legolas. I could not…” A blush crept us his cheeks as he struggled to finish the sentence. “I lost…” And then I understood. He was embarrassed at his response. At his apparent lack of control.
I pulled him tight against me cuddling him in my arms. “Oh, melethron, you have no reason to apologize.”
“But I wanted to…”
“To what, melethron?”
“To…make love with you.”
I smiled at his innocence. “We did make love, Estel. We are still making love.”
“I lost control!” he wailed, still obviously upset.
I clearly needed to try another tack. “You did,” I answered, letting satisfaction lace my tone. “Do you have any idea how arousing that is to me? That I could make you lose control?” He gave me a blank look.
“But you did not… you have not…”
An idea formed. “Would it make you feel better to return the favor? To make me lose control as well? You can, you know. You did last night, before Elrohir interrupted us. Would you like that, Estel, to push me beyond the limits of my endurance? You could do it.”
That idea apparently held some appeal because the embarrassment left his face to be replaced again by desire. I rose and offered him a hand. “Tolo, melethron, the waterfall is waiting.”
Aragorn took my hand as he got to his feet. I fingered his leggings. “These need to go.”
He stripped off his leggings and followed me into the river. The current was swift where we entered, knocking me against him. Our bs brs brushed, naked skin against naked skin. Now it was my turn to tremble. “See?” I murmured. “You have the same effect on me.” When we reached the pool at the base of the waterfall, the current eased a little, allowing us to stand side by side without bracing ourselves. We moved under the waterfall, soaking our hair and bodies. Aragorn reached for me tentatively, watching my reaction carefully “Tyaavo nin,” I said, giving him the permission he seemed to need. His hand cupped my cheek before trailing down across my chest to my groin, a heated contrast to the cool water still flowing over me. His touch was so light as to be torture. I endured those whisper light caresses combined with the caress of the waterfall for a few minutes, but I needed more. “Nornin,” I pleaded. He looked panicked again. I closed my hand over his anowedowed him how to pleasure me. He was a fast learner, soon finding a rhythm that had me balanced on the cusp of ecstasy. As he gained confidence, he leaned forward and kissed me. The hot velvet of his tongue against mine was enough to break me. I threw my head back with a shout as I shivered against him, finding release. When I could focus on him again, I saw the earlier mortification and hesitation replaced with smug satisfaction.
The sensual tension between us temporarily abated, we turned to bathing. Of course, helping each other bathe restored our passion quickly. Aragorn stepped into the waterfall to rinse himself clean before plunging into the pool. I watched in open-mouthed desire as he reappeared out of the water. His head tipped back as he slicked his hair back, exposing the line of his neck, curving his body into a delectable arc. That was tempting enough. When he bent to scrub at his foot, I stopped resisting the lure of his body. I dove into the pool, coming up behind him in two strokes. “Im irmon chen,” I murmured in his ear, pressing my burgeoning erection against his buttocks.
“Im irmon chen,” he replied, turning in my embrace. I kissed him, then led him toward the shore. I had drawn this out long enough. It was time. We sank down onto the thick grass, bodies rubbing together as our passion reignited. I kissed my way down his body, teasing him with tongue and teeth, as I sought my target. He was fully aroused again by the time I reached his hips. I ran my tongue lightly along the crease between hip and thigh. He spread his legs, giving me unfettered access to his most intimate places. I raised my head, looking for my pack where I kept the oil for my whetstone. It would serve to ease my way. My pack was not in the clearing. I had left it in the room in at the inn when we first arrived. That left me with nothing I could use to prepare him. If we had been long-standing lovers, I would have improvised, but I would not risk hurting him, even injuring him.
“We have to go back to the inn,” I whispered against his stomach as I fought for control.
“Mankoi?” he asked, desperation in his voice.
“I left my pack there. I fear I would hurt you without the oil that is there.”
“Im malion uum,” he moaned, thrashing beneath me.
“I will not hurt you,” I repeated. His howl of frustration could probably have been heard back in the village. I pulled away from him.
“Get dressed,” I told him. “We will go back to the inn.”
“And we will finish this,” he stated, implacably as he began to dress. Though I knew it not ae tie time, I heard the voice of the King of Gondor for the first time that day.
“Veston.”