The Beauty of Twilight

Eowyn stood inside her home, exercising with her sword. She swung the blade through the air, causing a shrill, airy note to echo against the rock walls of the chamber, though she understood that it would be a great long while before the blade would ever be used again. The war was over, and peace had come upon Middle-Earth. There was no longer any more need for blades and armor, yet she was a shield-maiden, and had a great love for armory. Hence, nightly, she would test her skill with a blade, preparing herself for a battle that she had yet to know of.

craccrackling fire from the fire pit, created a glow. Illuminating her grave and determined eyes. Spinning her sword against her wrist and grasping the hilt in a defense maneuver, she halted mid-step. There were footsteps coming near. Regaining her posture and setting her sword aside in its case, she looked to the open archway, awaiting her husband’s return from his nightly walk. As he appeared in the archway, she gave him a warm smile. Her smile faltered suddenly when she noticed the look in his eyes. It was a look she had never seen before and it confused her.

She watched as he broke eye contact with her quickly and strode to the opposite side of the room. She stood there, somewhat awkwardly, waiting for him to speak as he sat on the edge of their bed, beginning to untie the lacings of his boots.

“Are you retiring for the night, husband?” she asked in a small voice. Once, he had removed his boots and placed them beside his feet, he sat silent for a while, not meeting her gaze. The entire Fourth Age seemed to pass before he finally looked up to his wife. Eowyn noticed that same look in his eyes, almost as if he was afraid of her.

“Yes, Eowyn. I am quite weary.” he uttere a s a small voice.

Trying to display a warm smile on her fair features, she returned,

“I was just handling my old blade again. It has been in its sheath for far too long. However, if you are indeed weary, I will reposition myself outside so as not to wake you.” Before waiting to hear his reply, she hastily grabbed her sheathed sword from its position on a wooden chair near the fire and hurried out past the entrance.

Once she had gone down past the archway’s falls, and was out of sight from her husband, she held her sword to her heart and inhaled shakily. Something had been wrong with him. She knew not what it was that was troubling him, yet she felt that he would tell her in time what it was had had conflicted him so. A husband told his wife everything. . .didn’t he?

~~~***~~~

Faramir watched as his wife swept herself out of the room, a hurt look in her eyes. . .

She sensed it. He knew that she must have sensed something. Running both of his hands wearily through his hair and resting his head in his hands, he thought of the previous hour that had passed. He remembered that he had kissed the elf Legolas. He remembered the elf murmuring his name over and over into his ear. He remembered himself calling out the elf’s name silently into the twilight evening. He remembered that they had made love right there by the pond, and it was the most exhilarating experience in his life. He remembered telling the elf, that he wished to see him again, on another occasion.

“We shall meet again, Prince of Ithilien. Here by this very pool on tomorrow’s twilight evening, if you can bear my company. . .” The elf had given a slight smirk as he had finished his sentence and Faramir had smiled in return.

Upon his long walk home, Faramir had been frivolous with the memory of his heated encounter with the elf. However, the moment he had reached his dwellings and seen his fair, unsuspecting wife there, guilt tore through him like a knife. How could he have even have thought of doing this to Eowyn? How could he have betrayed her so? She deserved much better than this. When he thought of her, he thought of caring for her and respecting her fairness. Yet, as his mind strayed back to the elf, his unbridled musings were filled with passion, lust, and love. He felt whole when he thought of Legolas, more complete and confident. His heart was torn in two.

Weary with fatigue he lay himself down onto the bed. His last thought before he fell into an uneasy sleep was, ‘The war may be over, but there are still many troubles to be found in this world. . .”

~~~***~~~

As he had discussed with the elf, Farmir made his way to the pool where he and the elf had been the previous evening. Arriving unto his destination, he noticed that the elf had not yet arrived. The man gazed into the pool below him, his bemused reflection staring back up at him.

And then he felt it. The elf’s presence. Though he could not hear the soft footsteps, he could feel the ice-blue eyes staring at him. Confirming the known company, he saw the elf come to stand beside him in the corner of his eye. Faramir knew not what to say. He felt that it would be the right thing to end this liaison with the elf now, sparing himself any further torments of guilt. Still, no words left his mouth. He turned his eyes to meet the elf’s.

“You look terrible,” the elf said with that desirable smirk of his.

Faramir took a step towards the elf, thinking of what to say next. He reached up both of his hands and placed them on either side of the elf’s face, softly caressing his cheekbones with his thumbs. As the blue eyes drifted shut, his hands slipped down onto the opposite sides of the elf’s smooth neck. His heart hammered in his chest, at the feel of a soft pulse beneath the pale skin. The blue eyes opened again, lax with yearning.

“Legolas. . .” Faramir murmured softly.

Before another word was spoken, Legolas kissed him, entangling his fingers into the man’s hair. The elf took control of the kiss, forcing his tongue into the man’s mouth. Faramir uttered a deep, growling groan into the elf’s mouth, sending shivers up and down Legolas’ spine. The pair drank from each other as if each was dying of thirst.
The elf’s roaming lips slowly made their way down past the man’s jaw and onto his collarbone, unfastening the buttons of the Gondorian made tunic as he made his way slowly down. The circular motions the elf made with his skilled tongue caused Faramir to close his eyes, enveloping himself in the suresure that was Legolas.

With much skill indeed, the elf quickly unbuckled the man’s belt and knelt himself down to be shoulder level with the man’s hips.

The man let out a hoarse cry as he felt the hot wetness of Legolas’ mouth encompass his arousal. Moaning and panting, he gripped his fingers into the elf’s hair, tightening his hold as the pleasure increased in rolling waves. The elven tongue moved skillfully along the length of Faramir’s manhood, and his breath began to hitch in short gasps.

“It seems. . .as if you have. . ah!. . .done this before, Master Elf!” He managed in between breaths. He let out a short gasp, as the warmth left him suddenly.

“Not once in my long life!” he heard the elf retort, a hint of triumph in his voice.

Faramir let out yet another cry as he felt the elf’s tongue resume its prior residence. Clenching tighter into the golden hair, he felt his climax approaching with much force. He quickly took one of his hands and shoved lightly yet insistently onto the elf’s shoulder.

“Legolas. . .Legolas, stop!” He begged.

The elf quickly stood and barely had time to regain his balance before the man claimed him into another passionate kiss.

“I must be inside you. . .now,” the man murmured into his mouth. Legolas gave a throaty groan in reply, and suddenly found himself being spun around against the trunk of a white tree nearby. He felt the man reach around to the front of him and unfasten his breaches, and soon he felt the undying friction of his arousal growing as the man pumped him swiftly.

“Ai, Elbereth!” the elf called, losing himself in the moment, and leaning his head back against the man’s cheek behind him.

Faramir moaned deeply and ravaged the side of the elf’s neck, nipping and biting. The whimpers and occasional cries from Legolas nearly driving him over the edge. He slowly released his hold on the elf’s arousal and guided the head of his own erection towards the elf’s tight opening. He heard a disgruntled cry of fierceness, or could it have been impatience?, rasping from the elf’s throat.

He sucked in the air harshly as he had finally sheathed himself within the elf.

“Elbereth. . .” Legolas again whimpered, gripping his white hands against the bark of the tree and drooping his head forward. The elf felt an overwhelming amount of pain mixed with pleasure as he felt the man grip his hips and pull him closer.

Faramir bent forward with the elf and placed a kiss on the back of the elf’s neck that was slick with a sheen of sweat, before slowly pulling himself back. He cried aloud Legolas’ nam the the friction caused him to lose all control. Without taking another breath, he slammed himself forward, and felt the edge of the elf’s prostate hit the edge of his arousal. A deep moan escaped them both simultaneously, their bodies glistening with sweat.

Legolas felt faint as Faramir set a smooth pace of firm thrusts inside him, each force nudging his core of pleasure.

As Faramir thrust inside of the groaning elf in front of him, he became delirious. This elf had driven him mad with pleasure and lust from the moment he had come upon him on that twilight evening two nights ago. He had a craving for Legolas, and it would only ever be satisfied by being with him as he was now. The elf’s intoxicating beauty, the way he murmured his name, the way he walked. Everything about the elf caused his heart swell with love and lust.

As his climax, once again, roared up toward him, he heard Legolas cry into the otherwise silent evening and felt that the elf had reld. d. With one last final slam into the elf’s slender hips, Faramir’s own orgasm crashed down on him.

He drooped himself against the elf’s back. Each of them panting heavily, listening to the soft sound of the stream depositing into the pool nearby.

“Legolas,” Farmir sighed into the elf’s ear, “I love you. . .”

Legolas nearly answered, his mouth opening to return his own affections, yet he stopped himself. Instead he merely gave a sigh of his own and simply breathed in the scent of the man that he loved.


To Be Continued. . .

So how did everyone like that chapter? I gave ya a lemon, as promised! If you’d like me to keep writing more, please review. If you don’t want to, OK. Thank you for reading this chapter.