Yes, I know. This is not slash. It’s not even Aragorn/Legolas. But this is my site, so I get to do things like this! :::smile:::

FIC: “Vilya Pales in the Cave”
AUTHOR: LadyAna (LadyAna5 AT aol.com)
FANDOM: Lord of the Rings (movies were the inspiration, but the books, the elvish name generator and encyclopedia of arda supplied the research)
PAIRING: Arwen/Elrond (...yes, you did read that right!)
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: Copyright to Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema - this is solely for entertainment purposes and no profit is made from it.
WARNINGS:
*****Warning!
Danger!*****
*****Danger!
Warning!*****

This story contains consensual, heterosexual, explicit incest between an adult female and her biological father. DO NOT read this, then email me screaming how sick and twisted it is. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
Oh, and it is also a PWP, alternate universe, ect!

SUMMARY: Elrond notices Arwen in a troubling way once she returns from a long stay in Lorien.

DEDICATION: This story is dedicated to my favorite LOTR authors(You know who you are!) Also, The Theban Group, Thalassa, jayay58 and Elisa of “Lassegalenslaire” fame, Patty P, bandwench, tuxedo elf, Nimaweh, Cactuskim, agrotora, Tien...and anyone else who plays with pics of our boys! Your LOTR photo-manips are always beyond beautiful!

SPOILERS: I can’t keep track of all the spoilers I use, so read at your own risk!

AUTHOR NOTES:
= = This is the product of a warped mind. I’m not really sure if I am satisfied with the final result. Arwen is drop dead gorgeous and Elrond is a honorable, stoic Elf I want to see swimming in degenerate pleasure. What else can I say?
= = UnBeta’ed.
= = Want to archive this tale? Fine, just let me know where!
= = Feedback is welcome, but please be gentle - I have a soft heart! BTW, I *always* reply to feedback. Hence, if you did *not* get a response from me within a week, I did NOT get your original email, believe me!
= =I tend to jump back and forth between book and movie canon and...sometimes I dismiss both entirely. Just don’t be surprised if things are a little changed around.

“Vilya Pales in the Cave” by LadyAna

The sun was at high noon as the Elven Lord began reading a book by the window in his study. He’d been meaning to finish this particular novel on Elven Poems so he could return it to Glorfindel who’d been pestering him about it for a while now.

He sipped at his wine, a deep red vintage that had a cool, dry taste. His attire for that day was casual, or as casual as an Elven Lord could manage. The tunic was a deep burgundy, with dark brown leggings, all made of a plush velvet. His sable, straight hair was brushed back and held with a clip. His deep, stony grey eyes were on the fifth chapter when he heard a lilting, enchanting sound. He raised his head to listen and slowly, a smile graced his face. Arwen had returned to Imladris.

She could always be heard in the gardens, singing in the most crystal clear, haunting voice that would sway any living thing in its path...and make the dead wish it could. At that, he frowned, his eyes found the floor, seeing nothing, as shame settled around him. A numbness crept into his shaking hands as he considered where his thoughts were taking him as of late. It had been quite a while since she’d been in Imladris, instead being under the protect of her elders in Lorien. It had been, of course, to keep any harm coming to her from the Darkness that was growing in Mordor. He sometimes wondered how much had he indirectly insisted she stay there to keep her from any improper musing *he* harbored.

He shook his heard wearily at the heated rush those notions created; his heart pounded, his breathing deepened, stirring his resting phallus. Then he was holding his head in his hands, trying not to cry. What, in all of Eru’s creation, was becoming of him? At first, he believed a demon had taken his mind, making him consider vile acts the Shadow would celebrate. Upon examination of his fea and intellect, however, he was told no corruption was present.

Then why, he asked himself, had he begun to observe his own flesh and blood, his only daughter, in a desirous way?

It happened the last time she was in Rivendell. She was attending dinner the evening of her arrival and everyone was, of course, very happy to see her. Earlier in the day, Elrohir and Elladan were at their teasing best, throwing barbs and jests to make her embarrassed at the special treatment afforded her travels, with all the guards, sentries, horses and carriages involved. That night, Elrond was trying to get them to quiet down so they could all enjoy a nice dinner. She entered the room and his mind blanked, the breath catching in his throat. She was wearing only a very sheer floor-length black dress, strategically dotted with clusters of pearls and sequins. Her skin was luminescent; her long, black hair was parted down the middle, her lips were plush and moist, her grey eyes, clear and alert.

She was ultimately mesmerizing.

He found himself reacting to her beauty in the most un-fatherly way, as he tried to keep his eyes from trailing over her full bosom, lingering on her voluptuous behind and wanting to feel the skin he knew would be unbelievably soft. He resisted the urge, naturally, weakly blaming his odd lust on the spirts he’d consumed earlier. What disturbed him even more was her gaze said she might have detected his forbidden yearning. Later that evening, he thought about his indecent response. He had to admit she had changed quite a bit since he’d last seen her, so many years ago. There were still overt signs of her younger self, the budding girl who would paint or write poetry or be heavily involved with her studies. She had definitely developed into a mature, capable and aware elleth.

In the time that followed during her stay in Imladris, however, he found himself beginning to avoid her, fearing he would have the same feelings each time they embraced or when she touched him. One day he could not withstand it any longer and while bathing, he pleasured himself, thinking of her as he did so, for the first time. He was overcome with repulsion afterward, vowing to not entertain such desires ever again. It was difficult, but he mostly succeeded by throwing himself into his work at the House of Healing and engaging in his hobbies. She left for Lorien and while he wasn’t happy to see her leave, he did feel a slight burden lift from his conscience.

Now, she had returned and he was already sensing the evil tingle in his loins. He let out a shaky breath. Why was this happening to him? He had not lived his life alone after Celebrian sailed West, entertaining the company of a few after the grief waned to a tolerable level. He was a distinguished Elder, someone who’d witnessed the horrors of war, seen the flourishing of the Elves in their prime and was wearily aware of the growing threat of Sauron once again. There was no...unclean explanation for his wandering onto ill ground. He picked up the book, trying to see only what the pages held, steadily ignoring the siren’s call just outside his window to consider the most wicked gratification.

Drifting scents of *all* the fragrant blossoms below stripped the paper bare. He was lost.

*~~~~~*

“Father? May I speak with you?”

“Of course, my child. Come in.”

The dinner they had earlier was lively enough, with his sons present as well as Glorfindel and several others. He managed to keep his eyes on his plate and everyone else, except for Arwen. He felt this was the reason she began to outright stare at him, her face askance. He smiled at her, nodding, but she remained the same, not convinced. Her presence here and now, in his room, was proof she was still intrigued by his aloof nature. He mentally tried to build barriers as he sat down his glass of wine, putting the book to the side for the moment. The day was growing late and he’d retired to his room for the evening. Having bathed not long ago, he wore only a dark blue, thin robe and white leggings. “Please sit and tell me what is on your mind.”

She did so, her form pensive. “Are you angry with me?”

He widened his eyes, and while it wasn’t a lie, he certainly did not speak the truth. “Of course not, my dear! Why would you think that?”

She frowned slightly. “You...seem to be avoiding me.”

He ignored the panic threatening to take him. “I am sorry, dear. The work at the House has been very busy as of late.” When she said nothing, he looked at her and her face was bright and full of knowing.

“No, it hasn’t, father.”

“What do you mean?”

She smiled, her gaze now regarding the floor. “You have not been busy at the House of Healing. I asked Glorfindel. He, too, is concerned about your well-being. He said your mind is elsewhere, as if you carry a great burden.”

Slight terror welled up in him at her having seen through his ruse, but he did not acknowledge it. “I admit I have been preoccupied with a few issues, but I assure you it is of no concern.”

Once again, she did not speak and his eyes met her kind gaze and slight smile. “You have suffered greatly, that I know, for so many reasons, this especially. You are so angry at yourself, at what you perceive to be a betrayal of your own mind...and to me.”

“Please explain.” he asked, feigning true curiosity.

Her smile deepened. “All is well, father, I assure you.” She leaned closer and tenderly said, “I could see the last time I was here. I felt your want...and your loathing.” She looked elsewhere. “My own answer was not what I expected. Yes, I was shocked...but, oddly enough, I never acquired revulsion.”

By now, he was looking away, fear and numbness skittering along his limbs. He stood abruptly and went over to the window. He hugged himself and said nothing for a long while and neither did she. Eventually he spoke, his tone displaying his mortification, “I...am sorry, my child. I never intended to hurt you, never wanted you to know...of this. I will not speak of it ever to you, I promise. Please forgive me.”

Her voice was merciful and soft. “Father, please. I did not come here to condemn you or demand an apology.”

Now he was confused. “How...could you not?”

“Face me.” she said gently.

He did and she stood. “I am an adult elleth, father. I have done so much and seen a lot of this world. I have indulged various, curious appetites of my own free will. It was the courage and strength you taught that me enabled me to do so. Your new...sight of me is not aberrant in my eyes.”

He blinked slowly, not believing what he heard. “Y-you cannot speak the truth! You cannot possibly be amenable to this!”

“And why is that?” she asked. “Yes, you raised me and showed me so much and made me feel more love than I deserved. You must remember, so very much of my life was spent in Lorien, hence the kinship you and I share, while close, is not traditional by far. I have dwelled here and in Lorien as a child several times, but I returned to you fully grown only twice. This is my second time inhabiting here as one who as come of age several years past.” She looked down. “I have always thought you to be a regal and noble figure. All of your life has been bravely spent in service fighting the Darkness. I hold you in such high regard for doing so, especially in light of much loss and sacrifice. It is these traits that have me returning your unique affection in the same vein.”

He blinked rapidly, still not believing her words. He refused to accept her endorsing this awful offer. “Nonetheless...it is wrong.”

Her tone was indiscreet. “That...is what makes it so alluring.” She came closer to him. “You are no letch out to harm me, nor am I an innocent maid to be shielded.”

He could smell her natural floral scent, causing this “regal, noble, brave” figure, to grow weak with need. His shocked eyes flitted over her face, searching for anything amiss. He whispered, “You...would allow me this? You would permit me to lie with you?”

“Yes, I would, father.” She took his hand, placing it on her cheek, her grey eyes fluttering closed. “The thought of your touch alone has even driven me to pleasure myself.” She kissed the palm of his hand. Elrond gasped, the image flashing before him of her in the throes of self passion, making his length grow harder.

“Alleviate me of this longing, my Sire.” she said right before she kissed him, her moist lips pressing against his hesitant mouth. His heart was straining, his breathing erratic, at the feel of the plush lips that wickedly undid him at their mere presence. Slowly, he returned the gesture, and she made made soft, whimpering sounds, making his breath hitch, the rush of corrupt desire threatening to overtake him. His hands instinctively came up to frame her face, fingering through her long, dark hair. Memories appeared of him brushing it when she was but a girl, sickening him, then fueling the taboo fire within, realizing this was no stripling before him.

“My sweet child.” he murmured, nuzzling her ear, then trailing to her throat.

She smiled mischievously, backed off slightly and parted her heavy gown in the front, revealing herself fully. His eyes roamed over her at first in wonder, then hungrily, seeing it was all for the taking. He let his hands trail up her arms, gently pushing the gown off her shoulders, letting it gather on her forearms. He was so enthralled, he became paralyzed, unsure of what to do next. She gave him space, letting him set the pace and eventually, he said, “Come with me.” He took her hand and made for the bed.

Once there, she said, “May I lay my eyes upon you, father?”

He smiled, seeing he was still completely covered. “I am a far cry from your perfection, my dear.” he jested.

“It is not perfection I seek. I have found you to be sublime in so many other facets, hence I will always see you as one compromised by endless struggle and strife. Therefore, it is valiance, much personal denial and highly restrained passion I perceive.”

He was genuinely touched by her praise. “I am not as half as remarkable as you portray me.”

She titled her head and coyly said, “Did I mention humble?”

He smiled, then profane lust surged, as her eyes glanced over him expectantly. He untied the sash on the robe, letting it fall open, revealing a toned chest and flat stomach. His erection was more than visible in his leggings. She slid her hands up the taut muscles, through the dark, wiry hair, her thumbs gliding over his nipples, causing him to gasp. Both robe and gown were ignored as they hit the floor. He kneeled on the bed, bringing her close, finally laying his strong hands on her tender flesh. His hands made wide, deliberate, sweeping motions, wanting to feel so much in detail, warring with the need to do it quickly...and the skin was as smooth as he’d imagined. His heart was thudding, as was his turgid length, when her shivering caused her pastel nipples to crinkle. It made him cross the line of decency, cupping her supple, full breasts, placing his face between them, nuzzling and suckling his fill, incited by her extremely erotic sounds. He began to pinch and roll a pale nipple, while nursing the other and she gasped. “Oh...yes! Please...yes, do not stop!” Her hands came up to hold his head in place.

“You are trembling so much.” he said in surprise and she nodded mutely.

Continuing at her breasts, his mind was spinning, the decadence making it inebriating. He’d always felt she was particularly blessed here, and just as with her lips, they were bending his stout will to naught. “By the Gods, you are beautiful.” he moaned against her rounded skin.

“As are you.” she breathed back.

“You flatter me.” he said and winked.

He steered her to the bed and she kneeled next to him. He kissed her, his hands once again slowly mapping out her curvaceous body, fondling her pert bottom, then moving around to pet the downy hair covering her sex.

“Oh! Oh...yes...” she panted.

Embolden by her whimpering and shaking, with his mouth on her neck, one, then two fingers slipped into the warm, copious fluid between her legs. “My...so much sweet dew.” he said, smiling.

“Yes! Touch me there!” she said. Her breathing was increasing, becoming erratic, her pleas broken and formless. “Oh...please, yes...father! Do not stop....I love it...it is so good...”

He let his fingers slide around her wet flesh for a while, finally gliding over the hard nub. “Oh! Yes!” she moaned, taking hold of his wrist and circling her hips to increase the pressure.

The depravity flowed in him at seeing her like this, due to his attentions. “You truly are an inflamed jade, are you not?”

She had her head back now, a smile occasionally gracing her parted lips, as she rode her father’s hand. “Y-yes...oh....yes!”

Not being able to endure much more of her libidinous display, he said, “Lie down...and back.” She did, her eyes full of trust and longing. The lascivious want burned through him as he climbed over her, moving down to kiss her. “Let me give you the pleasure you deserve.” Nuzzling her lovely bosom again for a while, he then made his way down the small tummy to the sparse, dark hair over her slit. He moved her legs open, kissing her inner thighs, then closely viewed her glistening gender. His eyes fluttered shut, as he reverently placed his mouth over it, leisurely sliding his tongue into the folds and clefts.

“OH!” she cried out, “Yes...please! Do that...yes...need it...love you...it is so good, so very good!”

He reveled in the musky-honey flavor and strived to learn the varying textures and essence; of how the outer lips were barely there, making the inner, rippled lips jut out invitingly. She wantonly widened her legs and arched her hips, fisting the covers, making his own lust rise higher. The erotic nectar drenched his lower face and her pubic hair tickled his nose. He began to lick the swelled nub at the top and while panting and begging, she eagerly pulled back the flat, outer lips so he could better reach her clit. Her brazen exhibition made him perform in earnest, the prohibited arousal in him almost maniacal. He swirled his tongue over it repeatedly, loving the way it grew very firm under his ministrations. He started to lick her fingertips, much to her enjoyment, suckling them into his mouth, as he got her off the same way.

He knew she was close by the way she was undulating her hips in time with his tight lapping. He opened his eyes, letting the stony grey pierce into her cool, winter’s day gaze. The intimacy was painfully profound, but quickly broken as he slipped two fingers deep inside her, moving them with abandon, matching his tongue at work. She shouted at the twin methods of incredulous pleasure, threw her head back and bucked her hips. He went with it, still manipulating her most private parts until she was mewling and coasting to climax. It was so wonderfully sordid to hear her make little pleading noises, while watching him feast. Finally, she gasped deeply, her breath hitching and begged for her daddy not to stop....then a spring flower bloomed repeatedly around his soaked fingers. She screamed, then laughed, as wave after exquisite wave slammed into her. He closed his eyes and rode it out with her, rejoicing in her bliss. As she went placid, he slowly, reluctantly, he withdrew his fingers and lips from her luscious patch.

He licked his fingers greedily, as his searing lance began to demand attention. Light perspiration dotted her face and breasts, her skin flushed a warm pink. “Reveal yourself to me.” she said, huskily. Without hesitation, he pulled off the leggings, his stiff member bobbing after being released. She was instantly captivated, tentatively asking, “May I touch you?”

“Yes, you may.” he said deeply.

Her slim hand came forward, curling around the hardness and he made a sharp sound at the contact. She began to pull at him, sliding the loose skin up and over the weeping head. He learned back his head, letting the warped delight drive him even higher. She pulled back her hand, causing him to retrain his eyes on her, only to watch as she sampled his precum and, liking what she tasted, began sensuously crawling closer.

“May I taste you?” she asked, knowing full well he could not refuse.

“You may...” he said, throatily, the notion alone making his lance twitch. “But I will not last long.”

“Then I will not take long.” she quipped, slipping the stiff shaft between those dazzling, plump lips. Her tongue slid over it, adding excellent suction on the way up, then swallowing as much as she could while earnestly repeating her talents. Elrond placed his hand on the back of her head, growing so enraptured by her mouth, the most ribald, wicked thoughts surfaced in his mind. The only reason he did not utter them was due to her amazing, lewd activity rendering him speechless. When her warm palm started to fondle his tight sac, he bade her to stop for fear he would finish too soon. She scooted back on the bed, smiled a bit and said, “Partake of me, father, and achieve your own singular rapture.”

At her words, at what she presented, a pure, dark fever captured him, the need for salacious release at its height. He came closer and took hold of her leg, placing it on his shoulder, then did the same with the other, all the while staring at her openness with stern, demanding eyes. “I will take you...” he said, hearing the snarl in his voice, “...in the same manner I created you.” With that, he entered her with force, shaking at the sight of him within her.

She threw her head back and cried, “OH! Yes...take me!”

He closed his eyes, loving the scorching, wet flesh surrounding him. “By Eru...” he whispered and began riding her hard, the rapid slickness creating untamed tremors. Mouth open, chills echoed through his body as he sailed on barbaric joy, bucking his hips wildly. It was beyond thrilling to hear her gasp and moan and throughly adore being taken by him. He grabbed her full hips and repeatedly rammed his aching cock into her hilt deep, the ecstacy a constant, steady, making him moan continuously. He could feel his sac drawing up, a blissful fire race down his spine and wrap around his torso, consuming him. It made his bucking rhythm falter...restart, then fall apart completely, as euphoria devoured him. His whole body was jerking, as his seed shot out, pooling around his member, blending with the clear, delectable juice of his daughter. Entirely spent, he struggled to not collapse on her, instead falling to the side, but remaining close. She nestled up to him, sighing contentedly.

As he started to regain some awareness and his breathing slowed, he fought the dread and fear and disgrace tickling at him. So many words came to him, but he remained silent.

“I know what occupies your mind.” she said. “You are hesitant and direful and resisting the abhorrence of your deeds.”

“Yes, I am.” he answered honestly.

“As am I.” she stated contritely.

He turned to her sharply. “Do you...regret this?”

She shook her head. “No, I do not.” She looked at him, his heart stopping for a second at her in post relations. “I have my reservations about what is to come as well, father. However, I trust you implicitly and I know would you not bring me harm. I believe we should use discretion regarding this, though. There are so few who would understand and not condemn us.”

He had to agree. “You are correct, my dear. We should tell no one.” He smiled wistfully, letting his hand glide along her cheek. “At least I have known you but once, my child. It was unjustly exhilarating, wonderfully deviant. Thank you for giving me what I never would have asked for.”

Her eyes became hooded. “This is the last time, then?”

His eyes opened wide at that, a nervous flutter in his stomach. “You...would want this again?”

Her grey eyes caught his own and said, “Yes...I would love to, father.”

Then he blurted a strangest, but honest, question that just occurred to him. “What of Aragorn? I know he loves you.”

She smiled, laughing a bit. “I think he took my advice and has come to enjoy the company of the Mirkwood Prince.”

Elrond laughed at that. “Well, as long as he is happy.” He grew serious. “As long as you are happy. I will keep no bindings on you, Arwen. I insist you to be free, not tied to an old Elf of your own brood.”

Her smile was bittersweet. “I do not know what the future holds, I admit that. For now, I wish to relish the time with you, my Sire.”

His heart thudded at all the possibilities the hereafter now held. “I will bask in the many ways I plan for you to have all kinds of fleshy delectations.”

Her breathing visibly increased at that. “I look forward to your experience and talent, my lord.”

“Yet, you must give me a minute.” He sighed. “With talent and experience comes age, hence the need to rest between the tutoring.”

She laughed, the sound musical, enchanting. He was lost.
END
P.S. Yeah, I know - a big PWP! Oh, well!

*~~~~~*