Feud

Feud
By erobey, robey61@yahoo.com
Beta'd by Sarah AK. Remaining errors are mine alone.

Disclaimer: The recognised characters and settings used in this fiction were created by JRR Tolkien. The words, other characters, and ideas here surrounding them belong to erobey alone. No infringement is intended or monies earned through this work.

A/N: I am proud to say that the inspiration for the romantic atmosphere of this and the next chapter comes from Sarah AK and the lovely, moving encounters she writes for her Legolas and Gimli.

Chapter 68: Sogo dad Nin [Drink Me Down]

The path of bromeliads was breathtaking to behold, even in the vanishing light as Anor retreated beyond the horizon somewhere far from the green boundaries of the Wood Elves' homeland. Narrow and winding, wandering between an avenue of evergreens, the byway was a purely Nandorin construction that, while cultivated by elven hands, maintained a distinctly natural appearance, as though Yavanna herself had devised the design of the trail.

The limbs of the pines merged just above head height and formed a veritable tunnel of foliage. Through and among the interwoven limbs the long narrow lances of the epiphytes' banded leaves protruded. Nodding on delicately dendritic bracts of translucent jade, the sprays of white flowers limned in green, accompanied by clusters of deep indigo berries, draped the brush-needled plumes of the bunya-bunya [Australian evergreen pines]. From these blossoms a faint scent of sweet nectar spilled, as if the star-shaped cups of the plants held not rainwater but honey in their depths.

Someone paying close attention would comprehend that the maze formed the symbols for feä and hroa, and at the very centre the words merged, and in that place grew the majestic oak harbouring its hidden talan high in the canopy's cover. Only after traipsing around the entirety of the living puzzle could this tree be reached.

The close of day done and Ithil obscured from sight in the living channel of meandering tenebrity, the only light available was emitted by the two eldar moving in moderated haste along the way. Erestor scrutinised Legolas' ethereal glow surreptitiously lest the fallen archer notice. The Wood Elf's gentle radiance had never been visible so plainly to the seneschal, for he had always seen it under lamplight or moonlight, and of course in sunlight it was felt more than seen.

In truth, the Noldo was both charmed and concerned, for his companion's hazy corona was but a slender husk of gleam that scarcely extended beyond the elf's skin. While Erestor's body shown with a refulgent and dreamy apricot-hued aura, the feral warrior's only shimmered faintly like the surface of an iridescent pearl. He knew not if this was normal for Legolas or an indication of his reduced physical state and, while admiring the beauty of such a sheer gloss, he was worried.

{His light is insufficient to brighten more than an inch beyond his nose. Perhaps it is some adaptation exclusive to Sylvans.}, he reasoned. {For it could not be advantageous to be easily spotted among these dire woods.}

It was not a thing he had previously considered, that different types of elves might not cast the same glimmer about them. Erestor had always assumed the natural luminescence of the eldar was but a remnant glister of the stardust from which they were all composed. Not having such complete eclipse of external illumination under which to make the comparison before, he now wondered if the variations extended between individuals as well, for certainly no other elf save Pen-rhovan could have such remarkable lustre.

His hair had turned from gold to argent and his eyes reflected a shade of sea-green that surely did not exist anywhere else but within this flesh-bound extension of the Spirit of the Forest. Lips flushed and full from being kissed at length were as dark as cinnamon, and when they parted in that endearing smile his teeth were just like dew-covered ivory. Erestor found his breath stolen away. If Legolas was glorious in sunshine and tantalising when caressed by flickering tongues of lamplight, he was nothing less than captivating in the magnificence of his unique nimbus.

Still clasping the archer's hand, Erestor impulsively yanked him over to the path's edge and plucked a blossom from one of the plants. The stem he wove through the felted locks at Legolas' temple and the wild elf laughed. But suddenly the Noldo gasped and stared open-mouthed at the flower.

"What ever is the matter?" demanded Legolas, quickly feeling the spot where the older elf's eyes were currently glued in bulging amazement.

Under the influence of the Tawarwaith's effulgence the bloom fluoresced, changing from white to icy blue, while the green rinds of every petal gleamed a soft, warm yellow.

"Nay!" pleaded Erestor. "Do not take it out; it looks wonderful! Do all the flowers turn new colours when they are near you? I have never beheld such a thing before in all my long life."

"I do not know; I have not been adorned with flowers before this night."

"By Elbereth, I would not have imagined I could so easily endure pitch darkness!" sighed Erestor. "Have I said yet how lovely you are?"

"Once, and promised more but 'til now said naught again," scolded the fey Sylvan, but added: "The air around you is lit as if a cloud of fireflies clothes your body!"

That compliment made the advisor pull hard on their linked hands to draw his lover into his embrace for a long and heady kiss, no longer free of the passionate heat rising throughout his being. When he withdrew his tongue he was physically shaking and heaving to draw breath, and grinned as they leaned on one another for mutual support. He felt the wild elf's heart pulsating against his chest as Legolas insinuated loose fingers amid his ebony braids. Wet, cool lips sought out a tender spot behind the seneschal's right ear and latched on. Erestor growled and shivered.

"Take me right here," the breathy demand met the coils of his inner ear and sent his senses into tumult. The younger body undulated side to side, the hard swell in the soft leather breeches teasing his flesh and Erestor had to fight to keep from ripping Pen-rhovan's leggings off and fulfilling that request.

But he did resist, for he knew what Legolas was up to and this time he would not let the misused warrior direct their passion, forcing the violent penetration he was so accustomed to receiving. Erestor took a deep breath and a step back from Pen-rhovan.

"Nay, that shall not be, impatient one!" His spirit ached at the confused look of hurt that momentarily flashed through those aqua tinged eyes. That was followed by a sheen of delighted lubricity dancing into the altered irises.

"Ah, then I shall have you!" came the triumphant retort. Legolas had the leggings open in a trice and would have been down on his knees with the engorged penis down his gullet had Erestor not expected that and clamped his hand over the archer's biceps to keep him on his feet.

"I will not see you thus, kneeling in the twigs and the dirt!" he hissed in tones that were nearly angry.

"But why?" Legolas flinched and sought to get loose. "I do not understand what is wrong?"

Erestor released both holds in order to take gentle possession of the distraught countenance before him and tenderly kiss away the worried tension around Legolas' eyes and lips.

"Nothing is wrong, Pen-rhovan." One hand dived to shove his escaping erection back under wraps and loosely close up the breeches. "You deserve more, that is all, and I intend to give you both pleasure and comfort this night. We have joined in abandonment and unchecked license before and this is a sensation you know. I would have you learn something else of intimacy than that. This night shall be very different for you."

With that declaration he wrapped Legolas up in a confining cocoon, bringing their dual arousals back into alignment, and recaptured the willing mouth. This time it was Erestor who swayed against the archer's lean and lanky form, eliciting a tremulous cry from the fallen prince.

The seneschal disengaged and again grasped Legolas' by the hand. "Come," he coaxed once more and headed further along, eager to reach their destination and begin the imminently pleasurable instruction. Yet there was hesitancy in Legolas' gait and Erestor looked back to find the wild elf's eyes cast down and his shoulders hunched in apparent distress. He halted and reached out to lift the lowered gaze and then let his palm come to rest over Pen-rhovan's heart.

"What is it? Do you not wish to continue?"

"Nay! Oh! I mean, aye," Legolas' faltered and shook his head to clear his mind. "I do, but this way is reserved. I know not if we should stay on this path."

"How do you mean reserved? Surely the healer would not direct us to someone's private abode."

"Not in that sense exactly. But you can see this track is taking us deep into the woods, can you not?"

Erestor had not noticed and looked around in alarm, not that he could distinguish anything in detail beyond the gleam of their combined auroras. Suddenly he understood why. The tunnelled avenue was dark not only due to the interlocked limbs overhead. The path had taken them so far beyond the stronghold's city that no lamplight from nearby talans shown down upon them.

"What does this signify, Pen-rhovan? What do you fear?"

"The place this leads us to, it is set aside for newly-bonded couples only. You and I, we are not. We should, mayhap, go elsewhere."

Erestor squeezed the Tawarwaith's fingers tighter, struck to the core by the evident pain in Legolas' voice as these words left his lips. Sighing, he reached his arm around the archer's back and held him close. Desperately searching his mind for the right words to speak to ease away this insecurity, the seneschal was terrified his statements might once more tear open the barely closed lacerations in the warrior's sorely wounded feä.

What could he offer Legolas, really? He had feelings of deep compassion and friendship, strong physical attraction and ardent passion for the wild elf. But empathy was not love and friendship's bonds were unlike those of souls eternally merged. These things he could not provide in the fullness that Legolas deserved.

Was the strength of their friendship enough to warrant the sensual satisfaction he desired to give and receive? Was he mistaken again, believing his actions to be beneficial only to evoke some fresh injuries and unleash unforeseen havoc in the wild one's existence?

"Ah, Pen-rhovan, I know not what is best for you," he ruefully admitted and soothingly rubbed the tight shoulders. "It is true, what we share is not as intense as soul-binding. Yet, it is more than a casual coupling I would offer you. What to name this thing escapes me, love; I but understand that you are somehow part of me now. There is peace within me where before I had an ancient ache, and it only left me upon encountering you."

Now Legolas was surprised for these were not words he had thought to hear and could not fathom what the advisor was referring to. He stood back at arm's length and peered silently, intently, searching the Noldo's eyes for any dissembling. He found nothing within those smouldering orbs of black heat but an earnest yearning to reveal this secret wound.

"What is this hurt?"

"It has been there so long I had stopped giving it any notice," Erestor shrugged. "It is the guilty grief over the deaths of my father and sister. They sacrificed themselves at Gondolin so that I could escape. That is not what Ada said, but it is what they meant, and I let them do it. They knew I was afraid and feared I would falter and shame them." A small note of bitterness had crept within the tail end of this speech and Legolas' fingers abruptly covered the frowning lips to banish it.

"Nay, I believe that not! Any facing such horrors would feel dread, that does not mean you failed your loved ones. Neither are you the master of fate, Berenaur. The decisions your family made were not due to lack of faith but rather a sense of duty to Turgon their king and their love for you. This devotion aught not be sullied by such misgivings in your heart. Had you remained and perished with them, do you really think they would love you better? You honoured them and respected their free choice and most likely gave them some small sense of peace, knowing you would continue here. You did not cause them to die," he said solemnly.

Erestor smiled and took hold of the fingers, pressing them first to his lips and then against his heart. "I realise this now, but had not believed it before meeting you. A crueller doom than yours I cannot imagine, yet somehow you have turned it into a benediction. There is a grace about you, Pen-rhovan, that you have willingly poured over me."

"You speak of my bond with Tawar," Legolas remarked concisely, glad to understand what all this was about and set the Noldo straight. "That is none of my doing; it is a gift to me also."

Erestor was not surprised that the wild elf believed this fully. {How oft has he been told, by both word and example, that his existence is shameful and nothing good can arise within him?}

"And is that part of it," responded Erestor gently, "the way you do not claim any of the credit? Tell me, was it Tawar that spared my life and gave me aid? Did the Spirit of these trees overlook my faults and wrongs? Did Greenwood instruct you to return my careless indifference for your suffering with complete trust in our joining?

"Nay, you do not even need to answer, Pen-rhovan, for even I understand your actions do not spring from your service to Tawar. Aragorn told me you denied the call of your trees in order to safeguard him and the wizard, to keep inviolate a vow you spoke.

"You behave thus because it is in your character to do so. It is a completely natural part of your existence, your feä demands it like the hroa requires breathing and rest. That is why everyone realises you could not have been guilty of neglect of your duty at Erebor. Everyone except yourself."

Legolas was staring in open-mouthed astonishment and the seneschal simply could not resist. He leaned in and kissed the younger elf deeply, hoping to impart something of the overwhelming effect the archer had on him. Erestor broke the kiss and inhaled his lover's rapid suspirations, laughing softly at the imploring light flickering in the glimmering, half-mast eyes when the Tawarwaith presented him his parted lips again. He took them.

A series of slow osculations followed. Erestor let the wild archer suckle his tongue and drink of the air in his lungs, sample his lips. He allowed Legolas leeway to plunge his oral muscle within, a wave of questing titillation breaking upon teeth, cresting in a bounding surge against the roof of his mouth. They both became light-headed and simultaneously ceased to regain their equilibrium.

Legolas grinned as he let his head drop upon the Noldo's breast; Erestor smiled in equal delight and held him.

"And I find I want to nurture the same qualities in myself, Legolas." He began his oration again. Erestor was fully determined to be in command this night, and he was not done with what he wished to say. He smirked when Legolas' eyes popped wide in disbelief.

"Valar, are you not yet finished?" he said in hushed exasperation.

"Nay, and do not interrupt me, young one, show proper respect for your elder!" he teased back, but soon grew serious again as he gazed into the vibrant eyes regarding him, wonder shining forth disguised as embarrassed disregard.

{No one has ever told him of his merit.}

"Aye, it is true. I want to be worthy of my bond-mates' eternal love, to believe Adaren a thêlen [my father and my sister] would proudly boast of my deeds and name me honourable, to feel inside myself not a sense of apathetic despair but rather a welling of purpose and…and something to believe in. I find that I believe in you, Legolas.

"I have not the means to explain it properly for I have not experienced this before. But you have given me these things I so acutely craved without ever realising they had gone missing from my soul. It took an Age of time for this embitterment to blemish my spirit yet you have driven it out in a matter of weeks.

"I admit that I am selfish. I am seducing you; I want you to impart more of the same; I do wish I could bind you to me so that I may partake of your grace whenever my strength wanes. Yet I cannot offer you the entirety of my soul in exchange. Neither is your spirit completely free from entanglements and past wrongs.

"Still, there is a part of my heart that now responds only to you, Legolas, and that I do beg you to accept. Say that you will allow this, let us continue to this place of consummation, for I have vows I would declare to you, not in words and golden rings but with my very substance. Let me make love to you, Pen-rhovan, and hasten the recovery of your feä."

Erestor did not wait for a reply, covering the almandine mouth with his before Legolas could even begin to construct an answer, initiating another lingual exchange in that most ancient of living languages. When he released to find air, the seneschal transferred his oral attentions to the throbbing vein in the slender pearlescent neck, sucking and lapping, tasting and nipping the delicate ivory skin.

No prompting was required to get Legolas moving on the path this time, for the archer was the first to set forth, intent on reaching the talan and having the Noldo show him these new pleasures only dreamed of over long centuries of pining for Malthen to render such attentions. Just hearing these words was a mental stroke to his libido. Maltahondo had not once said his character was worthy of emulation or his innate disposition contained admirable virtue.

They went a few metres and Legolas halted to steal another breath-quenching kiss, hoping he was making his consent to Berenaur's proposal quite clear. To posses exclusively even a small fraction of this elf's heart was more than the fallen prince had thought possible and he was afraid the Imladrian would regret his overture and retract the bid.

"I think perhaps I shall start at the top after all," Erestor huffed out as their mouths disengaged with a sloppy wet sound that was absolute bliss to his hearing. He glanced to see the wild elf's perplexed visage and inwardly smiled; he had returned to his detailed list for the evening's program and Legolas had not caught on yet.

"Yes, I desire to see if your nipples match the dusky dark brown of your lips under the sheen cast by your argent aura." Erestor made short work of the ties and laces of the tunic and shirt and pulled back the fabric, exposing one cinnabar coloured nodule of pert and delectable flesh. He stood back a bit to better appreciate the heaving chest and its tempting pinnacle of mahogany pigment.

"Oh, beautiful," he breathed and then stroked the plump protrusion, pulling and squeezing as he invaded Legolas' mouth, penetrating to taste the depths of his throat, savouring the fractious wails issuing from the wild elf at the double stimulation.

"Ah!" Erestor exclaimed, relinquishing both delicacies. "So sensitive! I believe you like that even more than Penbara does!" He flicked the tapered point back and forth beneath his fingertips and watched as Legolas threw back his head and shimmied in unbridled delight. "Shall I suck on these while I fuck you?" The more experienced elda chortled at the expression of hopeful scepticism flickering across Legolas' face as he attempted to picture exactly how this might be accomplished.

"Aye, it is not impossible," he assured and carefully pulled the fabric back in place as Legolas whimpered his displeasure. Erestor gently rubbed his fingers over the hard nub hidden beneath the silky material, bestowing another feather-light kiss on the gulping lips before snatching back his eager pupil's hand and moving away down the path again.

They reached the oak tree soon after, out of breath and with no clear notion of having stepped the distance. Somewhere along the way Legolas' belt and shoes lay discarded on the ground and all the ribbons from Erestor's hair adorned various branches amid the evergreen arches. The seneschal's tresses fanned around him, unfettered and tangled from Pen-rhovan's fingers wandering through them. Legolas' tunic and shirt were undone and hanging loose off his left shoulder whence the Noldo had thrust them aside to place reverent kisses all along the scar on the archer's clavicle. They gazed up into the limbs, unable to see the flet; one in consternation for how to reach it, the other in barely contained expectant curiosity.

The bonding-night talan was off limits to all save those newly bonded and, prior to their occupation, family members who arrived early in the day to prepare the temporary dwelling according to the tastes of their kin and traditions of the Sylvans. Legolas, with no siblings and no cousins, no uncles or aunts to see bound, had never been inside the secluded bower. He had resigned himself to the belief that it was a setting he would never encounter, either as one of the decorators or as a claimed elf. He was very pleased that he would now have the knowledge first-hand and prior to his younger siblings.

"Eru's arse! Must everything here be either buried underground or at the very top of a tree?" complained Erestor.

"What are you grumbling for?" laughed Legolas. "Do you not climb up to a talan when you go to Lorien?"

"Aye, but there are stairs to reach them by, or at the very least a rope ladder."

"Ah, then their traditions are a bit different. There is a sort of unofficial contest that goes on between the new-bound Woodland couple, just about now."

"Oh? What sort of contest?"

"It is a race, and the stakes are quite high." Legolas was grinning and also blushing, which made his fair skin take on a warmer tone under the influence of his misty nebula. He looked the colour of hearty, golden Dwarven ale and Erestor was drawn to touch him.

"Really?" he whispered as his fingers trailed down the faintly bronzed chest to circle a tightened point of brown. A few strands of the silvered hair were parted around the nipple. "What sort of race might that be and what do I win should I best you?"

Legolas looked down to the hand caressing him and reached to lay his fingers upon the advisor's wrist to direct the movement and enhance the sweet sensation. His breathy moan was enough to inspire Erestor to push the locks aside and bend low to lick against the tender, tumid flesh.

"You," Legolas began and tried to pull away. A blistering oscillation of libidinous thrill shot straight to his throbbing penis when the Noldo's quick bite prevented it. "Ai! Berenaur!" he gasped and almost lost his balance, grabbing the older elf's shoulders to prevent it.

Erestor reluctantly ceased his delectable sampling with a final swab against the stiff concentration of nerves, pressing the swelling bud down into the resilient firmness of the toned pectoral muscle. He heard the archer's choking half-croak, half-gasp as the nipple sprang back, jutting out even more from the stimulus. {Superfluous on the male physique, but oh so essential for achieving the apex of delight.}, the seneschal languidly ruminised. Straightening up, he wrapped both arms around Pen-rhovan to provide a stabilising scaffold. He smiled and turned his attention to smothering kisses all over the absolutely adorable and wholly erotic expression transforming the exquisite features.

"The race?" he queried again with a smirky snicker over Legolas' loss of concentration. The Tawarwaith was completely at the mercy of his somatic reactions, eyes sealed shut, lips parted, body nearly limp in his lover's arms and yet simultaneously straining for greater contact. The concept excited the Noldo Lord more than he thought possible to endure much longer unrelieved.

"Race…" murmured the disinherited prince vaguely and sought Berenaur's mouth hungrily. They broke to respire. He felt warm hands sensually stroking up and down his spine and shivered all over, the tremor ending in a healthy, albeit restricted, cock-bob. Legolas drew a deep lungful and his mind cleared. "The goal is the talan. First to reach it gets the choice for the evening's initial coupling position."

"Valar!" Erestor exclaimed at such boldness. {These Woodland folk are not shy in the least!} That was a prize worthy of heroic effort and he dearly wanted to win the competition. Yet he was severely outclassed in tree climbing when compared to any Wood Elf. "It is not level odds," he grumped, "for you are naturally acclimated to this environment. We must do something to make the contest fair."

Legolas frowned. He had rather been counting on that to be the victor and gain the right to claim Berenaur immediately. He had a strong desire to repeat their first encounter, without the unpleasant prelude. Still, the seneschal had a valid point and the warrior did not want to wound the Noldo's pride overly much by showing off. "What do you suggest?"

Erestor thought in silence a moment and then lascivious mirth sprawled across his countenance. "You shall go naked except for wearing my boots upon your nimble feet!" He found Legolas' expression, veneered with incredulous lust, especially gratifying.

"Boots!" he protested heatedly and shook his head before breaking into merry giggling. "They will be too loose and I am unaccustomed now to such. Aye, that will even our chances. I accept the terms!"

The advisor from Imladris bent awkwardly to tug off his footgear, hopping a bit to retain his balance, reflecting that in all his centuries he had never heard of such a thing. Legolas was apparently unconcerned about the required nudity, eager to undergo the traditional challenge. He wondered what his bond-mates would do if he suggested this little game. {Orophin shall have to wear one and Dambethnîn the other!}, he thought and laughed aloud at the mental image.

"What?" asked the Wood Elf and Erestor raised his gaze to find the fey creature standing in all his natural perfection before him, smiling, one hand at his hip, the other slowly massaging his thigh.

The seneschal ceased breathing as he beheld the image displayed for his discovery alone. Flushed with his aroused passion, Legolas' skin had turned the hue of honey new from the comb, his long twisted tresses moonbeam dipped, eyes softening to pale aquamarine. Lips, nipples, and the erect organ all were engorged and stood out in dark contrast, beckoning the Noldo to partake of the amber coloured extremities. The archer's shaft pointed right at his lips and the tiny opening exuded a few drops of shining silver liquid just upon its peaked crown.

It was more temptation than Erestor could resist, and why should he? He grasped both the Woodland warrior's biceps and backed him to the trunk of the ancient oak, kissing the pliant lips eagerly, demandingly. When Legolas' back impacted the tree, Erestor dropped to the forest floor and did as he had promised earlier, peeling back the delicate foreskin and sipping up the dewy essence, lapping into the slender slit to stimulate further secretion of the slippery nectar.

"Berenaur! Valar!"

Legolas' shout of excitement was more than enough encouragement and Erestor took the entire length of the rigid, slender sex down his throat, sucking with delirious ferocity. He distantly registered attempts to speak entreaties and endearments but the syllables were all mixed together and virtually incoherent. No matter, the intensity of the pleasure he was giving was easily apparent as Legolas sank clasping fingers into his hair and held on.

He could feel the wild archer struggling to remain still and pulled back nearly completely off the inflamed cock. Erestor glanced up to find Legolas' huge eyes locked upon his mouth and smiled around the full, wet column. He waited until the younger elf's focus lifted to meet his, then drew the organ voraciously back in, sliding his hands around to cup the supple arse and shove, forcing the solid intrusion even deeper. Erestor repeated the procedure as Legolas strained to control his breathing and his body, but at last took the hint. He began hesitantly pumping on his own.

"Mmmmmnn…" the rumbling, low-pitched growl of appreciative enjoyment vibrated against the animated penis, inciting the Sylvan into a more vigorous rhythm.

"Aye! Nay!" Legolas tossed his head, wanting to give in and just fuck, desperately trying to refrain from such license for fear of choking Berenaur. He felt the hands against his rear again, pushing forcefully, and at last relented.

Bracing his hands on Erestor's shoulders, Legolas pivoted back and forth with gusto, abandoning caution in the face of such exhilarating friction as the Noldo's tongue swabbed against his cock and teeth scraped ever so faintly across the sensitised tissue. The sight of the long shaft, darkened and slick, sliding in and out of the sucking torridity of the maroon rimmed orifice excited him to new heights of carnal impetus. An aching, itching fever collected in the organ's bluntly rounded head; such intensely searing pleasure in so small an area was unbearable and yet too magnificently intoxicating to end. Dearly he wanted this experience to last and nearly sobbed to realise he could not suspend the impending flood. The fingers gripping his rear slipped away, some to carefully coddle his balls while others insinuated down between his cleaved cheeks and teased his body's entrance.

Legolas was vaguely aware that he was emitting the most feral sounding grunts he had ever voiced but soon lost even that level of rational comprehension. A ragged cry flew from his throat when one of the fingers plunged inside and wormed up to find his swelling prostate. Legolas shouted, a painfully expressive mixture of both regret and rejoicing for the act's completion, when the gland was softly stroked and initiated the surge of his vital syrup up through the engorged member. Transported beyond exaltation, a state of soaring ecstasy claimed his soul as the semen exited his body to be instantaneously consumed within Berenaur's being.

Erestor swallowed. The back of his tongue massaged the tingling tip of wild elf's cock and his fingers worked, both inside and out, to wring a final shuddering moan from his lover's lungs. He felt Legolas' legs trembling just before they gave out and so was prepared to support his weight, allowing the spent organ to slip from his lips and the sated warrior to slide down the trunk and into his arms. He cradled his partner compassionately, holding Legolas as his pulse pounded and his frame shook with exhausted spasms in the aftermath of the orgasm. The seneschal savoured the sensation, crooning soothing endearments, and kissed the head bowed upon his breast, lightly rubbing the lax arm draped about his neck.

"Oh that was wondrous, Pen-rhovan; your taste is an enchantment; your seed, an infusion of infinite vitality," he whispered.

{No one has pleasured him thus, at his feet in adoration.} Erestor's hold round him contracted, drawing Pen-rhovan tight against his chest as his heart swelled. The Noldo then helped him sit back against the tree, brushing the tangled fall of shimmery strands from Legolas' face. {So many firsts for this one tonight!}, and that thought alone granted him immense fulfilment.

Legolas was smiling dreamily, lungs labouring, a playful twinkle in those blue-green eyes. "Wondrous, aye," he managed as he gazed at the advisor in a peculiar amalgam of puckish awe. He took a further moment to regain more regular respiration.

"You cheated!" he accused quietly and joined in Erestor's laughter.

Tbc