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Night of the Hunter's Moon
Author: Eawen Penallion
Beta: Most excellent Nienna, so encouraging!
Email: [email protected]
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Saelbeth/Orophin
Warnings: none
Request: Lovemaking near a moonlit pool/lake, one partner riding the other, one partner very possessive and feral-like
Written For: Orchyd
'Like a star of light on the river
I'm following you
And like the wind on the dusky harbour,
I can hear you tracking me too.
Man of the sun! gonna find you soon
On the night of the hunter's moon!'
The clatter of hooves upon the cobblestones of the forecourt and the calls of greeting from the assembled elves were the first signals of the unexpected arrival of the party from Lothl�rien. Saelbeth lifted his head from the accounts ledger on his desk, startled by the commotion outside. Debating with himself for a moment (for he was a conscientious elf who prided himself on being able to resist most distractions), he finally gave in and rose to cross to the window of his second story office. From here the blonde haired ellon had an excellent view of the courtyard at the front of the Last Homely House and this window had often allowed him to observe the comings and goings of the many visitors who passed the mystical barriers that protected this elf haven.
Looking down now upon a scene of cheers, welcomes and delighted hugs, the clerk smiled to see the slender form of the young lady of Rivendell greeting her ecstatic father, for Lady Arwen's return had not been looked for. Lord Elrond's daughter had been expected to remain within the Golden Wood with her grandparents for the Yuletide season, as was her usual habit. With her brothers also on the far side of the Misty Mountains with their Ranger cohorts, the Lord of Imladris has been hard pressed to put on a good face for the forthcoming festivities. Now seeing the equally enthusiastic hugs that the Lord was giving to his twin sons, Saelbeth could appreciate how the party had been able to traverse the snow-capped peaks at this season. If anyone knew their way through the dangerous passes it was the young lords, and only they would have had the audacity to attempt the trip. As they leant their dark heads to their father's chest in the enveloping embrace, Saelbeth saw a reflection of the shared sorrow in remembrance of the one member of the family who would not be with them at this time of joy. The Lady Celebr�an had set sail for the Undying Lands nigh on two centuries ago, and it was the oaths of vengeance that the brothers had sworn that normally kept them in the field at this time of year.
"It will be a good feast and a merry one this year with all of the children home for the holiday," a voice behind him remarked, echoing his own thoughts. Saelbeth turned with a smile to greet Lothvaen, Erestor's secretary, who now joined him at the window.
"Aye," agreed Saelbeth, turning once more to look down upon the reunited family. "It is a long time since the family was together. The happiness of Lord Elrond is very evident in his greetings."
Lothvaen nodded at this, and he turned to face the blond clerk. "However, Master Erestor is not so happy with so many unexpected guests from the Golden Wood. Now I must ask you for the inventory of the available guest rooms. Oh, and also ask you to revise the lists of food stock levels, so that we may assess if the existent supplies will last now until the spring." He paused, looking once more at the scene below. "You hail from Lothl�rien do you not, Saelbeth? I see that some of the Galadhrim came as escort. Do you know any of them, or has it been too long since you saw them?"
Saelbeth shrugged. "As you know, I came here shortly after the Lady Celebr�an's departure, two hundred years ago, to help in the sorrowful years thereafter. But yes, meldir, I do know some of them. That very tall elf by the roan mare? He is Dinendal, who was but an initiate in the corps when I last saw him. And that edhel there is Aradol, a fine archer. Oh, and that is R�mil, brother to Marchwarden Haldir who is Captain of the Guardians of the Golden Wood."
"And who is he, the elf whose hair shines like Ithil's rays? I swear he has not taken his eyes off you from the moment he saw you. You have an admirer, dear Saelbeth!"
Saelbeth stiffened at these words and his movements were slow and reluctant as he turned to look at the elf that his friend was pointing out to him.
This window, his office window, often afforded Saelbeth a quiet vantage point from which to watch the travellers who passed the beguiling barriers that protected this elf haven. Barriers that now, it seemed, had not protected him. The eyes, those penetrating silver-blue orbs, now engaged his stare - and Saelbeth was trapped as a rabbit caught in the mesmerising gaze of the hunting wolf. Finally forcing a choked rasp from a frozen throat, Saelbeth answered his puzzled friend.
"Orophin. His name is Orophin."
Saelbeth sat huddled in the sheltered gazebo in the garden of Celebr�an, a quiet harbour that was private to the family and a few privileged members of the household. Saelbeth was one of those favoured - and visitors were not. It was as safe a spot as any now that the barriers of the haven had been breeched by Orophin of L�rien.
Prowling, seeking, stalking - the feral creature had followed him to his new home, his new life, to destroy once again what little peace he had regained. Peace from stroking hands, so hot against bare flesh. Peace from questing lips kissing his firmly until they became bruised and swollen under the sensual onslaught. Peace from sharp teeth breaking the white skin upon his shoulder, and peace from the moist laving of tongue that tasted the salty, hot iron-laden blood as it soothed the broken flesh. As it soothed those marks of possession.
Orophin had possessed him. He had declared Saelbeth his property; he had staked his claim then he had acted upon it and had taken him, devoured him in wanton attention - and Saelbeth had revelled in the lust-filled nights.
Saelbeth wrapped the thick velvet robes tighter about his slim body, shivering convulsively in the night air. The magics of Elrond had held the winter at bay but the lord always released his hold upon the elements at this time of the year. By Yule morning Imladris would be covered in a thick layer of snow. Even now he could sense the change in the air, could smell the incipient snow. Not tonight, but tomorrow perhaps. But it was not the ambient air temperature that caused the elf to shiver, but the proximity of something much colder.
"You were never one to take much notice of little things like rules, regulations or areas that are off-limits, were you Orophin?"
The silver-haired elf stepped out of the shadows, the severe angles of his strong face highlighted by the clear light of the moon.
"Not if they got in my way, or were not relevant - and never in regard to you, my love."
Saelbeth's eyes narrowed at the easy use of the endearment.
"You ought to watch what you say, Warden. One day someone might believe you."
Like I once did, the clerk thought with a pang. The expression on the warrior's face showed that he was thinking of the same thing, and his next words confirmed it.
"I wish that I knew what I had done to make you doubt me, my little rabbit," the warden murmured in his low tones, and Saelbeth was puzzled to hear a melancholy note in the warrior's voice. Orophin had stepped inside the structure and was now but a silhouette, his face hidden in the darkness. Saelbeth began to back away cautiously, circling in an attempt to reach the doorway. Orophin made no attempt to stop him but instead moved to tread the opposing semi-circle.
"You said nothing, Warden. Your actions spoke louder than any words."
The voice became harsh, raw in its anger - and was there pain also? - as it tried to deny the implications.
"Actions? What actions? My kissing you? My holding you firm against my flesh, feeling your aching arousal press against me? My taking you -with your consent, I remind you - and making you scream my name in your completion? To which of these do you object? You are mine, Saelbeth. I have come to claim you once more, Glawaren. You have had your little break from me, it is now time to come home."
The frustration was building in the golden-haired clerk with each word, and this arrogant recitation of conquest released the flood of anger within him.
"Two hundred years? You call two hundred years 'a little break'? By the Valar, Orophin, you are unbelievable! You ask me to what actions do I object - well, I object to them all. I object to your treating me like a possession, not a person. I object to your taking me at your will, not mine. I object to your growling as a dog with a bone to my friends, your brooding attitude severing every tie that I had so that eventually I had none to turn to but you. I object to this new, blithe manner in which you say 'my love' when once love did not seem to feature in your vocabulary.
"I gave you everything, Orophin. I gave you my heart, I gave you my body and once I would have given you my soul. And what did you give me? Grief, hassle and a good fuck now and then!"
Orophin flinched and for a moment Saelbeth thought that he had touched a nerve within the cool creature who had once meant so much to Saelbeth - who perhaps still did. The moment passed and Saelbeth dismissed his suspicions for now the tirade did not seem to have fazed the warden, save that his eyes flashed in what Saelbeth regarded as an acknowledged challenge. The clerk knew that the hunter within the warden was alert and ready. Saelbeth's blood too began to quicken, for his body was ever weak where the silver guardian was concerned. Despite his rage, despite his anger at the treatment he had received at this elf's hands, he still wanted him. He still loved Orophin of L�rien. His loins swelled with hot blood as he felt the lust-filled waves roll off Orophin.
"So, my little rabbit has grown claws. Whereas once you worshipped me now you worry at me as would a cornered prey. So be it. I will have you back once more, Saelbeth, and this is how."
Orophin glanced through the latticework of the roof of the edifice, seeing Ithil shining in the starlit sky.
"Tomorrow is Yuletide Eve and there will be a full moon. Let us take the roles for which we seem to be destined - both hunter and prey. We will enact the hunt and the victor will take the spoils. If I am the winner then I will claim you as once I did - as my own, into whom I pour all that I am. If you succeed in capturing me the I will pay the forfeit and you may claim or reject me, as you wish."
There was an unusual timbre in the warden's voice as he said these last words, and a note of fear, but Saelbeth could not discern the cause. Instead he protested the challenge.
"It is unfair, Oro. The woods are your element as a warrior. I am but a clerk."
Orophin shook his head, a slight rueful twist in the smile upon his thin lips.
"They are not my woods, little rabbit. You have lived here for two hundred years. The forests of Imladris, the canyons, the banks of the Bruinen are your territory. And do not say that you do not remember my teachings. As I recall, you are quite adept at woodcraft. The odds will be evened, my love. Show me your claws, my little rabbit."
Saelbeth nodded slowly. "Do not worry, you shall feel them tearing into your skin, my wolf."
'There's a moon of gold and it's dancing on my soul!
I know you want to love me babe, you know you can!
Man of the sun! gonna find you soon
On the night of the hunter's moon!'
Saelbeth moved under the golden moonlight shadows, a shadow himself against the trees. His footsteps were silent as he slid between the thick trunks of the pines that lay upon this bank of the river. He was Silvan, at one with the forest, and worthy of the accolade of hunter that Orophin had bestowed. The warden would know, for in happier times it had been he who had trained the clerk on their many excursions within the boundaries of the Golden Wood. He bore no bow now, only a small knife with which to defend himself, as agreed.
They had started at moonrise at the gazebo, Saelbeth wearing the muted browns of Rivendell and Orophin in the greys of his Galadhrim uniform. Their hair shone in the warm yellow of the full moon. Orophin's locks had always been compared to the cooler light of the silver moon, but the warden had loved to run his fingers over Saelbeth's golden tresses, insisting that they shone like the sunlight on a pale spring day.
"Glawaren," Orophin used to call him. His Sunlight.
Saelbeth tried to put this memory out of his mind as he glided silently through the trees, for his treacherous body had reacted fiercely to Orophin's continued advances. Oh Varda, Lady of the Stars, why had the warden never loved him as he had wanted him to? Why had he always taken as a right that which Saelbeth had wanted to give freely? Now he tracked Orophin with the purpose of capturing the one who had imprisoned him; Orophin, who had taken Saelbeth as his own and placed him in a relationship of two, where all intruders where disposed of by the irrational jealousy of the guardian. Irrational, for Saelbeth had loved no other, had wanted no other and would have yielded to no other. The possession had torn at his soul and his spirit until Saelbeth had seen no other way out but to escape. Lord Celeborn's call for edhil to assist in grief-stricken Imladris could have come at no better time. In his cowardice Saelbeth had left whilst Orophin was on patrol, otherwise the warden would never have let him go. The guardian had ways of persuading Saelbeth that did not involve force...
The scribe cursed inwardly as he glimpsed a movement at the edge of the wood, a flash of light upon silver hair, or so he thought. Instinctively he put his hand up to the grey cloth that he had wrapped over his own tresses to shield them from the moonbeams. Twice now he had seen signs of the hunter, twice he had evaded capture by slipping into the darkness of the trees. Once he had thought that the hunter had become his prey but it had been an illusion of light and shadows. Like his love for the hunter had been, when all had come to an end.
He glanced up through the empty branches, for the clear golden rays of the hunter's moon had faltered and now he saw clouds gathering in the night sky. As yet the coverage was far from complete, but from time to time the snow-laden clouds covered the surface of the moon and denied Middle Earth of its loving light.
Trying to turn his attention back to this hunt, he aimed for the spot where he had seen the movement, noting that it led to one of the small pools near the base of the cascades. These were delightful locations for picnics in the summer sunshine and were claimed for trysting spots in the balmy evenings by lovers. They would be abandoned now, eerie and desolate in the winter's night.
It was not abandoned. Facing away from him, crouching to examine some grasses by the pool was Orophin, his silver hair falling below the level of his firm, rounded buttocks. This was easy. Too easy. However he could not delay, for the hunter within the wolf would turn at any moment and he would be caught. Silently drawing his knife he stepped forward quickly and bent over the curved back, placing the edge of the blade to Orophin's throat.
"Why?" the clerk whispered to the silent elf. "Why did you not run? Why did you not capture me? I know that you saw me in the forest; I know that you could have caught me. Could have claimed me."
Without a word Orophin straightened his long, lean body, turning slowly so that the knife now touched the front of his neck, pressing on his windpipe. Saelbeth rose with him.
"Because I do not want you like that - an unwilling prisoner, yielding to me only because I was the victor in a stupid game."
"You suggested the game."
"Only because you would have not have believed me if I acted as I wanted to - penitent, begging you to return to me, pleading on my knees for your love."
Saelbeth shook his head, hardly believing what he heard. "No," he croaked finally. "No, I would not have believed you."
Orophin tilted his head slightly, a condescending smile upon his lips. "So now you are the victor, what will you do with me? Am I yours to do with as you will - or shall I return to Lothl�rien alone, my wolf's tail between my legs?"
Saelbeth groaned within himself at that appellation, for he knew that 'tail', had felt it, had accepted it within his body and certainly did not wish to send it away. He did not wish to send his former lover away - and Orophin knew this. The warrior's hand went up to the one holding the blade and took it, twisting it gently to release the knife from the clerk's grasp. Saelbeth did not resist and the knife fell even as Orophin gathered him into his muscular arms.
"My Saelbeth," those thin lips murmured before they pressed firmly against his own, demanding that the clerk submit to his questing tongue.
It was with a groan of defeat that Saelbeth relinquished his claim as the victor and melted into Orophin's arms knowing that once more the wolf had won. His hands raised, they pressed against the warden's spine, pulling him closer even as the tongue delved into his depths. Thrusting forward his hips Saelbeth ground their arousals together, thick shafts pulsing against the restraining fabric of their leggings. Orophin gasped, breaking the kiss but then his hand slid into the golden hair and twisted into a fist, pulling the scribe's head back firmly to expose his slender throat to nipping teeth.
Saelbeth felt them, sharp points tearing at the skin, threatening to break the surface as strong jaws clamped over the pulsing artery. Strong suction brought the blood to the surface, bruising the white flesh, marking him as Orophin's once more. The lips released their tight grip, a satisfied sigh escaping as the warden moved them softly over the line of the jaw. Feeling the pearl-white teeth nibbling as they ascended, Saelbeth braced himself for what he knew would come.
It came, the rasping tongue grating over the rim of the peaked earlobe, sending lurching shudders through his slim body as he collapsed into his lover's arms. Again and again the moist muscle worked upon his aural appendage as Orophin expertly, and with exquisite precision, stimulated the sensitive nerves to cause the waves of need to ripple through his scribe.
"Oh....Valar, Oro - I am so weak around you..." Saelbeth moaned into the embrace. There was a tinge of self-disgust in his voice and convulsively the warden's arms closed tighter around the slim frame.
"Is it weakness to accept what I am offering? For I offer myself, little rabbit."
Saelbeth could only moan regretfully, for the wolf had always taken, never given. Orophin seemed to sense this denial and he stroked the pale-gold hair, the wolf soothing the rabbit.
"My Glawaren," he murmured, exhaling hot breath into the curved hollow of the pointed ear. "Always mine. My sweet one, my Saelbeth."
Placing a hand under the taut buttocks, he lifted the scribe then laid him on the frozen earth, his lascivious intentions clear. Looming over him, the lips resumed their fevered explorations even as nimble fingers released the clasps upon the brown tunic to reveal the perfect body, white under the moon's glow.
"Mine," breathed the wolf, surveying his territory. Bending forward he renewed the onslaught upon the pale skin and Saelbeth was helpless to resist. Instead the clerk writhed beneath the solid frame, twisting to bring his flesh into contact with his lover's body; bemoaning the fact that fabric yet covered flesh.
"Undress me," the low voice growled and Saelbeth complied eagerly, reaching up to taste Orophin even as he unfastened the Galadhrim's uniform. Every inch of flesh revealed was revelled in, every muscle touched with trembling hand. Eagerly he tugged at the waistband of the leggings, feeling the unbearable pressure upon his strained organ when Orophin wriggled free from their bonds; gasping when his own were removed with expert ease.
Saelbeth strained to bring his lips to the warden's nipples, achingly prominent in the cool night air. Orophin hissed as they were taken, first one then the other, into the moist heat of the laving mouth. Fire shot through the warden from the teased nipple, strengthening further the ache in his loins. An ache that could only be relieved and released by the elf beneath him.
Orophin pulled back, forcing those lips to let him go. It was his turn, his time to show the clerk exactly what he meant to the warrior. Now the warden's teeth were bared, their sharp surfaces grazing over the bare chest, teasing the taut nubs as Saelbeth had tended his own. The slender body arched in unrestrained need, pressing his swollen organ to Orophin's flesh in a plea as ancient as time. Still the teeth tantalised the edhel, nipping at the curve of the hip bone and reddening the prominences of their skeletal outline. Across the stomach they wandered, allowing the lips to draw forward then finally the tongue as it dipped repeatedly into the indent of the navel. Saelbeth screamed his need at the relentless bathing of this sweet concavity, thrusting up to bring to Orophin's attention the neglected shaft just south of the navel. Still Orophin did not oblige, evading the purple, swollen mass in favour of the blond curls at its base - so musky in their fragrance, so enticing in their softness.
A hand slid between the thighs, and Saelbeth parted them in inevitable compliance. The hand did not wander further, instead Orophin settled between them to lower his head to the needy shaft, the tip of his tongue slipping softly across the weeping slit, tearing another cry from the aching throat of the scribe. Satisfied with the response, the tongue ran along the underside of the shaft, then reversed its direction to return to the tip, engulfing it in one movement. The cry this time was a choked gasp as the raw throat surrendered, as did the writhing scribe. The sensations were overloading his wracked frame, exhausted from the renewal of bodily lusts not experience for more that two hundred years. Tears rolled down the soft cheeks and Saelbeth twisted in the knowledge that he was defeated.
For an age the relentless onslaught continued as Orophin adored the needy male appendage, taking it to the back of his throat then sliding back firmly, the sharp teeth barely grazing the sensitive skin on their return. Saelbeth could not thrust into the welcoming heat for he was held down firmly by a sinewed arm laid across the taut abdomen. Finally the warden felt the tension increasing in the sacs beneath the shaft, signalling an imminent release and he pulled away quickly, squeezing the base of the organ to prevent orgasm.
"Noooo!!" Saelbeth screamed, his anger releasing its fury upon the warden with flailing hand hitting the warrior as Orophin turned to his discarded tunic. Searching the pockets for the phial of oil, he opened it to lavishly bathe his fingers, then they heard the small splash as the neglected bottle rolled down the slope to disappear into the adjacent pool. "Oh gods, you bastard!" the scribe wept, hating the Galadhrim. Hating himself for wanting more, needing more, needing him...
Closing tight his eyelids he then lifted his legs, waiting for the inevitable dribble of cool oil upon his perineum. Instead he heard a moan, a whimper of pain and sensual satisfaction. Opening his eyes reluctantly he saw a sight he had never expected to witness - Orophin kneeling, his legs apart, his neck extended and his silver hair floating down his bare back. The fingers of his hand, lavishly oiled, were disappearing within his puckered hole as the warden deliberately stretched himself. Another cry, then another told Saelbeth that Orophin had found that prominence within himself, the sweet nub of the prostate of which the teasing could bring such sharp gratification. Lustful, darkened blue eyes turned down to him.
"You were the victor," the low tongue hissed against teeth clenched in passion. "I relinquish my body to you."
Startled, the scribe could only watch then moan in satisfaction as his rampant need was engulfed by the searing hot channel. Using the extremely strong leg muscles, Orophin lowered then raised himself repeatedly upon the turgid sex; he cried in surrender to this, his first time of being taken. Of taking himself. Of offering himself upon the altar of denied love. Saelbeth still wept but he wept for the wolf, splendid and sensuous silhouetted against the full moon.
As Orophin rode the bucking scribe in wild abandon, the escaping heat of their breaths and their bodies turned to puffs of steam in the frigid night air, floating up and away from this frantic coupling. Their cries echoed in the night, spilling across the ripples of the pool which reflected their frantic motions as they felt every pounding thrust, every arch of the spine, as waves of hot pleasure sweeping through their united bodies. All control was lost and the two elves hammered against each other in their pulsating need. Saelbeth grasped Orophin's hips with sweat laden palms, pulling the warden forcibly onto his shaft, even as Orophin dropped firmly down, feeling his balls thwack against the clerk's stomach.
For the first time Saelbeth took Orophin to his climax; Orophin rode Saelbeth to completion.
The rabbit screamed as he emptied his hot seed in thick bursts, exploding against the velvet walls of the tight channel.
The wolf howled when his shaft released his core to splatter upon the soft stomach, as Saelbeth's shaft pressed one last time against his aching prostate.
The shouts reined through the woods, and the forest creatures quivered in fright at the sounds of the feral lovers.
The moon shone its satisfaction, and the slow wind blew its blessing across the still pond.
Long moments passed and laboured lungs gasped for renewal, finally easing as their racing hearts returned to a more even pace. Orophin moved slightly to uncouple himself from the elf beneath, then lay full length upon the slender body, offering his own body's heat to shield the ellon from the cool breeze that had now sprung up. Neither noticed small white flakes landing upon their flesh, turning immediately to droplets of cold water amongst the rivulets of perspiration covering them.
They did not want to break this moment, to return to the recriminations and accusations of the day before. They were united in their need, and Saelbeth only wished that it were more. He was therefore surprised at the words murmured against the heat of his neck by the collapsed elf.
"I love you, Saelbeth. Please, my heart, come home to me."
Saelbeth placed his palms underneath the firm chest, pushing the elf away from him slightly so that he could look at Orophin. Orophin obliged, bearing his own weight on his hands and elbows so that he would not crush the lean elf beneath him. He smiled at the small face that was so intent upon discerning the truth from Orophin's eyes.
"Aye, little Saelbeth - I have spoken the truth, long after it *should* have been said. I love you, Saelbeth, and I want you to be mine - forever."
It was too much to hear these words from this elf of L�rien, who had taken him so often without words, without endearments. Had taken him only with words of lust, need and desire.
"Marry me, Saelbeth."
He could be silent no longer. "Who are you? Why do you say these things? What happened that Orophin of L�rien would speak to the elf that he owned with words of love? I know this elf not."
Orophin nodded above him, the shadows upon his high cheekbones and the tips of his ears highlighting the feral creature within the warden.
"I have had long enough to think of it, to think of the day that I found you gone. I howled in anger, in rage and despair that you would leave without a kind thought for me, that you would leave me naught save an empty bed and an angry letter. I ranted and raged but finally my brothers brought me to my senses and pointed out some home truths - that I had treated you abominably, that I had taken your love and given nothing in return, that I had lost you by my own cruelty, my own stupidity. Lord Celeborn would not give me leave to travel to Imladris to search for you, Saelbeth, and he too pleaded that I should let you alone and give you peace.
"It dawned upon me slowly, the wrongs I had done to you, the love that I had spurned. I can only plead my love for you in return, warped though it was. I was never as brilliant as Haldir or as beautiful as R�mil. I was too tall, too angular, too alone, too hungry - as hungry as the wolf that you named me. In that epithet I found pride and I thought that I had to take upon myself those attributes which I thought would hold you to me, so afraid I was of losing my beautiful, beautiful Saelbeth. I was wrong.
"I ached for you every single night. I longed for you to be in my arms, I needed to hear your sweet voice in my ears. I needed you in my life. I learned more about myself, and I began first to hate then to accept myself. And I also learned more about the feral wolf. About how the dominant male will cause others to submit - but then once submission is given will accept the other as a partner in survival, and not continue to dominate or subdue him. And when a wolf mates, it is with passion and ferocity for truth - but it is forever. A wolf mates for life.
"I ask you to relinquish your diminutive title, meleth n�n, for I would ask you to embrace the life of a wolf. My wolf. My mate. "
The silver-blue eyes focused upon Saelbeth, and the plea and the vulnerability shone in the nakedness of truth. There was so much that Saelbeth wanted to ask, so much that he wanted to say, but he could not say it when those eyes were upon him. Instead he lowered his head against Orophin's breast and pulled the warrior to him, wrapping his arms firmly about his body.
"I love you, Orophin. I have always loved you, from the first moment I saw you. I have always been yours. I only wanted you to love me too. I would have given you everything, Orophin, if you would have only given me your heart."
He heard the chuckle from Orophin's throat, an ironic rumble sounding through his chest.
"Ai, my heart. It is funny, when I returned from patrol and found your talan deserted, I realised that you had not taken just your clothes or your books with you. I found this empty hole inside of me and realised that like a thief in the night, you had taken my heart with you. The hole has ached in loneliness for two hundred years, waiting for something to fill it, yet I find that I do not want my own heart back. Instead, I would ask for yours."
Orophin, rolled to the side onto white-covered earth, placing a finger under the pointed chin and raising it so that he could look into his lover's eyes. He smiled and it was a smile that reached to his own orbs.
"I promise, Saelbeth, that I would take great care of it. I promise."
Finally seeing that the truth was told, Saelbeth nodded his acquiescence, and his joy, and his love. With a merry shout Orophin clasped the scribe to him, claiming his lips in a kiss as sweet as the honey obtained from the Lady's own flowers.
When at last they broke, he murmured, "Come back to the House with me now, my love. I had your chamber prepared with a roaring fire, hot spiced wine and a warm bath to defrost our frozen bodies! Let us return, and celebrate the Yule!"
At these words Saelbeth did shiver, seeing only now that the clouds had released their hold on their contents and the ground around them was coated in the beginnings of a fine white coat.
"It's snowing!" he exclaimed, and the warden laughed at the excited innocence of his cry, and he bent to kiss away the flakes that clung to the scribe's eyelashes.
"Aye, it is new snow, heralding a new year and hopefully a new life for us both, ind n�n. A fresh, new world."
He pulled Saelbeth to his feet and they stood naked, the snow falling softly onto their bare shoulders. Saelbeth placed his palm against his mate's cheek, stroking it softly.
"Then we should sing our new song then, my Wolf. My mate."
Orophin grinned and in unison, two wolves howled their love into the still night sky.
The End
Elvish:
ellon - male elf
meldir - my friend (m)
Glawaren - my sunlight
edhel - elf (sing.)
meleth n�n - my love
ind n�n - my heart
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