Love and Hate - Alliances Made
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,840
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,840
Reviews:
2
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.
Love and Hate, Alliances Made, Chapter 5
Title: Love and Hate, Alliances Made, Chapter 5
Author: Sim
Pairings: Glorfindel / Herugil (OMC), Thranduil / Haldir, Rúmil / Lindir
Summary: Elves are lost, Elves are found and Alliances are made
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, nor do I make any money from my writings, it’s just a daydream, honestly, I’ll return them to canon as soon as I’m done.
Beta: Jilly – All remaining mistakes are mine
Feedback: Yes Please :o)
Warnings: AU, Slash, masturbation
Nibbling on some lembas from his pack Haldir spread out his healing supplies and set about making up a paste to treat his lacerated arms and face. Once that task was completed he crossed over to the hearth and emptied the kettle into a wash basin and added some oil. He sighed softly in pleasure as the smell of mallorn blossom assaulted his nose, and he crossed over to the bed, placing the basin on the side table.
“You first, my friend.”
The sleeping elf made no complaint as Haldir stripped off the sheets and started to wash his body. The cloth gliding over the golden haired elf’s strong chest, the oil left in its wake causing the skin to shine alluringly in the flickering candle light.
Upon a sudden whim, Haldir paused in his washing to unbraid the slumbering elf’s hair and laid the length, now curled from drying tightly bound, over the wood elf’s shoulders. “You are beautiful,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly at the absurdness of the occasion before taking up the washcloth once more.
Haldir felt his heart quicken as he continued in his task, gently lifting each arm and stroking the cloth up and down the full length of each toned limb, followed then by long slender legs. “You have the body of an archer, my friend,” he stated absently. When it came to washing the elf’s more private places, Haldir felt himself blush, and unbidden, arousal began to grow within him. Strangely embarrassed he tried to imagine he was tending to one of his brothers and not this exquisite forest creature. He quickened in his task. Finally satisfied, he set aside the cloth and set about applying the salve to the scratches and scrapes that the wood elf had accumulated during their flight, and a nasty bruise that had likely been sustained during his fall. He paid particular attention to the wrists, which were badly chaffed from the rope that had secured them.
When the golden haired elf was safely tucked up once more beneath the bedding with a promise of clean hair on the morrow Haldir set about tending to himself.
He stripped once more, before starting in his task, hissing as the cloth brushed over his arousal that refused to abate. With a sigh he took himself in hand, glancing over at the bed he imagined he could see intelligent emerald green eyes watching him under eyelids hooded in desire.
His imaginings caused him to groan in need, his member growing harder as he slowly stroked the length, wanting to feel the wood elf’s hands upon him, imagining his length breaching that exquisite body and the sounds the elf would make as he took him. He spent with a grown, inwardly chastising himself for having such thoughts about one that was utterly dependent on him, and vowed not to take advantage of the elf in any way.
Clean once more he applied the healing salve to his own wounds and considered the sleeping arrangements now that he felt weary and the night was growing old. He hoped that this foreign elf would not take it amiss if he were to share the only bed. After nights of sleeping on bare earth, he was sorely in need of the comfort.
Rummaging about the drawer in the wardrobe he was glad to find a sleeping robe that was likely to fit him. For after the thoughts he had had and the release he had found he did not trust his body’s reaction to being naked and in such close proximity to this beautiful foreign elf.
-
After the evening meal Thranduil’s seneschal and captain met in Cúdin’s study as they often did to talk and share a bottle, or sometimes two, of wine.
“I must say, I thought the prince handled that rather well.” Herugil stated falling into an overstuffed chair by the fireplace.
Cúdin looked up at the captain of the Greenwood guard from the papers scattered about his desk. “Aye, he is quite the diplomat when he puts his mind to it, not unlike his Ada.”
Herugil grinned, “Aye, they are more alike than I think either would be comfortable admitting.”
The seneschal nodded mutely, picking up a piece of parchment from the floor and placing it on top of the neat pile on his desk, before moving to sit opposite the captain. Helping himself to a goblet of wine he studied the older elf absently before relaxing back into the armchair.
“The weather is foul; I would have expected the king back by now.”
Herugil laughed, “Aye? Well Thranduil always was fond of the rain; he is probably standing naked in some glade or other getting drenched.”
Cúdin grimaced, “My friend that is a picture I did not need!”
Herugil snickered mischievously at the advisor’s sour expression, “Come now, are you truly saying that the image of our king standing naked in the rain holds no appeal for you? He is very fair.”
The seneschal blushed, “Aye I will give you that, he is fair, though I prefer elleth as well you know, but I am not blind to the appeal he must have. Which begs the question, why is our Lord without a mate or even too my knowledge, a lover?”
The captain sighed heavily as he refilled his goblet. “Alas he guards his heart rather too well I fear.” Shaking his head he continued, “It is not our place to be speaking of such things, but it would gladden my heart to see him happily in love. I would even go so far as to say I would meddle in his affairs to secure such an end.”
Cúdin raised a brow, “I am certain I recall that he threatened to have you thrown in the dungeons for suggesting a match between himself and Lord Glorfindel! Would it be worth such a risk?”
Herugil laughed uproariously, “My dear Cúdin, Thranduil has been threatening to have me locked in the dungeons since I was fifteen and he was twelve! I believe I am safe from that fate.”
Author: Sim
Pairings: Glorfindel / Herugil (OMC), Thranduil / Haldir, Rúmil / Lindir
Summary: Elves are lost, Elves are found and Alliances are made
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, nor do I make any money from my writings, it’s just a daydream, honestly, I’ll return them to canon as soon as I’m done.
Beta: Jilly – All remaining mistakes are mine
Feedback: Yes Please :o)
Warnings: AU, Slash, masturbation
Nibbling on some lembas from his pack Haldir spread out his healing supplies and set about making up a paste to treat his lacerated arms and face. Once that task was completed he crossed over to the hearth and emptied the kettle into a wash basin and added some oil. He sighed softly in pleasure as the smell of mallorn blossom assaulted his nose, and he crossed over to the bed, placing the basin on the side table.
“You first, my friend.”
The sleeping elf made no complaint as Haldir stripped off the sheets and started to wash his body. The cloth gliding over the golden haired elf’s strong chest, the oil left in its wake causing the skin to shine alluringly in the flickering candle light.
Upon a sudden whim, Haldir paused in his washing to unbraid the slumbering elf’s hair and laid the length, now curled from drying tightly bound, over the wood elf’s shoulders. “You are beautiful,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly at the absurdness of the occasion before taking up the washcloth once more.
Haldir felt his heart quicken as he continued in his task, gently lifting each arm and stroking the cloth up and down the full length of each toned limb, followed then by long slender legs. “You have the body of an archer, my friend,” he stated absently. When it came to washing the elf’s more private places, Haldir felt himself blush, and unbidden, arousal began to grow within him. Strangely embarrassed he tried to imagine he was tending to one of his brothers and not this exquisite forest creature. He quickened in his task. Finally satisfied, he set aside the cloth and set about applying the salve to the scratches and scrapes that the wood elf had accumulated during their flight, and a nasty bruise that had likely been sustained during his fall. He paid particular attention to the wrists, which were badly chaffed from the rope that had secured them.
When the golden haired elf was safely tucked up once more beneath the bedding with a promise of clean hair on the morrow Haldir set about tending to himself.
He stripped once more, before starting in his task, hissing as the cloth brushed over his arousal that refused to abate. With a sigh he took himself in hand, glancing over at the bed he imagined he could see intelligent emerald green eyes watching him under eyelids hooded in desire.
His imaginings caused him to groan in need, his member growing harder as he slowly stroked the length, wanting to feel the wood elf’s hands upon him, imagining his length breaching that exquisite body and the sounds the elf would make as he took him. He spent with a grown, inwardly chastising himself for having such thoughts about one that was utterly dependent on him, and vowed not to take advantage of the elf in any way.
Clean once more he applied the healing salve to his own wounds and considered the sleeping arrangements now that he felt weary and the night was growing old. He hoped that this foreign elf would not take it amiss if he were to share the only bed. After nights of sleeping on bare earth, he was sorely in need of the comfort.
Rummaging about the drawer in the wardrobe he was glad to find a sleeping robe that was likely to fit him. For after the thoughts he had had and the release he had found he did not trust his body’s reaction to being naked and in such close proximity to this beautiful foreign elf.
-
After the evening meal Thranduil’s seneschal and captain met in Cúdin’s study as they often did to talk and share a bottle, or sometimes two, of wine.
“I must say, I thought the prince handled that rather well.” Herugil stated falling into an overstuffed chair by the fireplace.
Cúdin looked up at the captain of the Greenwood guard from the papers scattered about his desk. “Aye, he is quite the diplomat when he puts his mind to it, not unlike his Ada.”
Herugil grinned, “Aye, they are more alike than I think either would be comfortable admitting.”
The seneschal nodded mutely, picking up a piece of parchment from the floor and placing it on top of the neat pile on his desk, before moving to sit opposite the captain. Helping himself to a goblet of wine he studied the older elf absently before relaxing back into the armchair.
“The weather is foul; I would have expected the king back by now.”
Herugil laughed, “Aye? Well Thranduil always was fond of the rain; he is probably standing naked in some glade or other getting drenched.”
Cúdin grimaced, “My friend that is a picture I did not need!”
Herugil snickered mischievously at the advisor’s sour expression, “Come now, are you truly saying that the image of our king standing naked in the rain holds no appeal for you? He is very fair.”
The seneschal blushed, “Aye I will give you that, he is fair, though I prefer elleth as well you know, but I am not blind to the appeal he must have. Which begs the question, why is our Lord without a mate or even too my knowledge, a lover?”
The captain sighed heavily as he refilled his goblet. “Alas he guards his heart rather too well I fear.” Shaking his head he continued, “It is not our place to be speaking of such things, but it would gladden my heart to see him happily in love. I would even go so far as to say I would meddle in his affairs to secure such an end.”
Cúdin raised a brow, “I am certain I recall that he threatened to have you thrown in the dungeons for suggesting a match between himself and Lord Glorfindel! Would it be worth such a risk?”
Herugil laughed uproariously, “My dear Cúdin, Thranduil has been threatening to have me locked in the dungeons since I was fifteen and he was twelve! I believe I am safe from that fate.”