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Summary: none given
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Lothlórien, January 3019
Weary and full of grief, Legolas led the remaining Fellowship across the Nimrodel into Lothlórien. If even Mithrandir could fall into the shadows that surrounded them, stalked them, haunted them – then what hope was there for the rest of their company? Could his dream of peace; of the world free from fear; of Lasgalen cleansed of darkness; ever become reality?
Yet as the cool touch of the water washed over his feet, he felt a little of his despair and exhaustion lift, and a hint of hope touched his heart. Their journey through the golden wood would bring them all respite for a while. It was even possible that he would see Orophin again. It had been far too long since they had been together – the darkening times had kept them both tied to the defence of their own realms, and they seldom met now.
They had not gone far when he heard a soft whisper of warning, and an unspoken tug on his heart. He slowed and raised a hand to signal the others to stop, but suddenly they were surrounded by armed border guards and facing a thicket of arrows. Haldir stood before them, his expression cold and remote, and Legolas felt a slight qualm. Even Orophin himself held an arrow pointing straight at Legolas.
Legolas stared at him in disbelief. Surely they had not become that far estranged? He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, but then Orophin gave him a slow, sensual wink, and Legolas relaxed, suddenly able to see the humour in the situation.
At a signal from Haldir the weapons were lowered, and Legolas was not the only one to breathe a sigh of relief. “Come,” Haldir announced. “We will rest here tonight, and in the morning I will guide you to Caras Galadhon. I will send word ahead to warn of our coming.” His eyes swept over the guards, and he sighed slightly. “Orophin, you are the swiftest. Take a message to the Lord and Lady that we approach.”
Orophin, his face impassive, nodded. He locked eyes with Legolas for a moment, his regret clear, but sending a smouldering message that promised much more later. Then he turned and disappeared into the trees.
Legolas watched him go, torn with regret and relief. To be parted again after such a brief glimpse was hard – but it would have been far harder to spend the night with Orophin so close, yet so far away.
The next morning dawned bright and golden. Sunlight shone through the trees and into the glades, and the whole forest felt vibrant and alive. It was what Lasgalen had once been like, long, long ago, and Legolas mourned anew for the loss of the forest that had been his home.
After breakfast, Haldir turned to the travellers. “The way ahead is secret,” he explained, “And I must blindfold you, Master Dwarf.”
Gimli bristled, and Legolas bit back a sharp comment at the dwarf’s stiff-necked obstinacy. “And why me?” Gimli demanded. “Will you blindfold Legolas as well?”
“I am an elf and a kinsman here!” Legolas snapped, furious at the threat. Though it was many years since he had last walked here, he had always been a welcomed guest in Lórien.
Somehow, without him ever being too sure how it came to be, it was agreed that they would all be blindfolded. “Forgive me,” Haldir whispered under his breath. Then he smirked. “Though I wager you would not mind if this was Orophin’s doing!”
Legolas tried to ignore him, but Haldir’s words had conjured up some rather delightful possibilities. Maybe when he finally got Orophin alone …
o-o-o
Legolas did not go to Orophin the first night they arrived in Caras Galadhon, for the Company sat together far into the night, talking. The next day too crept past as they spoke of Mithrandir, of the meeting with Celeborn and Galadriel, and rested beneath the trees. But that night, after supper, he slipped away from the rest of the Fellowship and climbed to Orophin’s flet, where Orophin waited for him with a flagon of Dorwinion and two cups. He looked up with a smile. “And about time too,” he commented. “You have been here for two days now, yet you have only just come to me?”
Legolas sighed in deep regret. It had been a torment knowing that Orophin was so close. “I wanted to, you know that. But my first duty is to Frodo now. What I want – what we want – must take second place to that. I have sworn to protect him.”
Orophin drew him close and kissed him in response. “I know,” he said at last. “I understand. But do we have at least tonight?”
Legolas nodded wearily. “Tonight, at least,” he agreed. Frodo was safe, resting within the heart of the golden wood, under the protection of Galadriel and Celeborn themselves. There was certainly no more which he could do for now. Here, finally, he could set aside his ceaseless vigilance for a short while.
Orophin cupped his face between his hands. “You look tired,” he murmured. “Let me ease you so that you forget your weariness and grief. Lie down.”
As Legolas stretched out across the narrow bed, Orophin sat beside him, his hands gliding soothingly across Legolas’s back. “You are too tense,” he scolded. “Relax. Forget your cares and worries.” He continued to rub and caress the taut muscles, his voice a low, soothing murmur. Gradually, as Orophin’s gentle, skilled hands eased his aches and pains; and as his love and concern washed over him, Legolas finally began to relax. The grief and sorrow which had gripped him since Mithrandir had fallen began to seep away and was replaced with acceptance. He was a warrior, and lived with death and danger daily. None of the Fellowship truly expected to live to see the end of this quest and return home again. If he was prepared to pay that price, then why not Mithrandir?
Against his will – for he had other plans for the night – his eyes began to close. He had been constantly on the alert since they had left Rivendell, and was exhausted as he had been few times before in his life. Here, in this timeless land still mercifully free from shadow, he could at last rest. Lulled by Orophin’s gentle touch and his soft voice, Legolas drifted into dreams.
o-o-o
Orophin slowed, then stilled the rhythmic motion of his hands as he felt Legolas go limp beneath him, and gave a wry smile. He had done his work rather too well, it seemed. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the exposed shoulder. “Sleep then,” he murmured. “Have sweet dreams, my love.”
He lay back and eyed his aching erection with a sigh. This was not how he had planned the evening – or night. He touched himself lightly, but then shook his head and removed his hand again. No. He had waited this long – he could wait a little longer. Instead, he moved closer, cradling Legolas in his arms as he slept. This deep, rejuvenating rest was what he needed – and the mere fact that he slept with eyes closed spoke of both his utter exhaustion, and his complete trust in Orophin. Content that they were at least together again, he joined Legolas in dreams.
Orophin was awakened by the soft susurration of leaves as the dawn breeze stirred the branches around the flet. Legolas still slept, so he slid from the bed quietly to wash. He was about to dress again when there was a silent step behind him and two hands covered his eyes. He leaned back into the hard, lean body behind him with a sigh of pleasure. At last.
“Your brother blindfolded me, much to my indignation,” a low voice murmured. “But he suggested that had it been your idea, I might find it more … agreeable.” The hands over his eyes moved to embrace him, and a series of kisses traced down his neck and along his shoulder.
Orophin turned within Legolas’s arms, and looked into a sparkling green gaze. “A blindfold?”
“Yes. And all because of the Dwarf’s stubborn, stiff-necked obstinacy!” He sighed. “I am sorry to have wasted our first night together. Will you let me make amends?”
Orophin groaned as lips caressed the angle between his neck and shoulder, followed by a tongue flickering lightly across his ear. “Amends?” he gasped. “Aye …”
Deft, clever hands tied a strip of some silken fabric around his eyes in a single smooth movement, and he was pushed down onto the bed. “Good,” Legolas breathed. “I found that as I could not see, my other senses became sharper and clearer. More acute. More … sensitive.”
Orophin shivered in anticipation as Legolas continued.
“Taste.” A tongue tangled with his, as sweet as strawberries coated with honey.
“Hearing.” There was the faint chink of a glass phial being placed next to the bed and another as the stopper was removed.
“Smell.” The scent of sweet cedar oil crept through the air, enticing and resinous.
“And touch.” He traced a feather-light finger down Orophin’s spine, causing goose-flesh to appear.
Orophin shivered again and gave a soft moan. This sensual, seductive side of Legolas was one he saw far too infrequently, and it thrilled him beyond words.
“Ah, so you like that? There is more.” The light, gentle touch continued, outlining the shape of his ear, and brushing the back of his neck; while a soft tongue licked the other ear.
“Ahhh – stop that,” Orophin gasped. “Please …” He was so aroused that he feared he would spill in moments, before Legolas ever even touched his erection. Valar, but it felt good. “You were right about – about the blindfold,” he managed. He was finding it difficult to speak coherently.
Legolas chuckled and relented, moving away from the bed. Orophin listened intently as he moved about the flet, humming softly. He stopped somewhere near the desk, and laughed again. “Mmm – perfect. You will like this, my love.”
Orophin was tempted to remove the blindfold to see what new torment Legolas had in mind, but he resisted the urge. Being unable to see meant that he had to use his imagination instead, and it was proving amazingly fertile and erotic. He found he was quite content to continue with this game.
Legolas returned to the bed and kissed him again. “I have another idea,” he murmured. “If you cannot guess what this is, I win – and you have to pay a forfeit. If you win, I pay a forfeit – one of your choice.”
Orophin was silent as he considered the proposal for a moment. Then Legolas’s voice came again, sounding hesitant. “Orophin? Forgive me. If you do not want to play this game …”
“No!” Orophin exclaimed as Legolas began to remove the blindfold. “Stop. I was merely considering which path would be more pleasurable – to win or lose?”
Legolas laughed. “Then shall we find out? I will give you three guesses.” He began a slow, sensual stroking again as something petal-soft brushed against Orophin’s skin, the touch even lighter than before – too light to be a hand or finger. It felt like air dancing over him, moving down his spine, along his thigh, and lightly tickling the back of his knee before moving downward again. Orophin squirmed with pleasure at the sensation.
“Guess,” Legolas urged, as the sweet torment reached the sole of his foot. Orophin twitched uncontrollably.
“A flower?”
“No. Try again.”
The touch began to creep upwards again, even more slowly, as soft as thistledown. Orophin bit his lip. “A – a – a kitten’s tail?”
Legolas laughed with delight. “A lovely idea, but where would I find a kitten?”
Orophin swallowed another moan as the inside of his thigh was caressed. “Your hair?” he asked, remembering.
“Not this time. Last chance.”
The feathery touch swept upwards, swirling around his erection from base to tip in slow, languorous spirals. Orophin arched upwards with a gasp, swearing. “Curse you, Legolas! I cannot take much more!”
Legolas chuckled. “Do you give up?” he asked, continuing the feather-light torture.
Feather-light. Ah, of course …. Orophin hid a smile as he suddenly realised what Legolas was using to torment him.
“Do you give up?” Legolas asked again.
Orophin thought for a moment, then smiled again. “Yes. You will have to claim your forfeit from me.” He blinked as the blindfold was removed, and sneezed suddenly as Legolas tickled the end of his nose with the eagle-feather quill from Orophin’s desk.
“My forfeit? Hmm. I will have to think. But first, there are more pressing matters to attend to.” Legolas leaned forward and claimed Orophin’s mouth in a searing kiss that left them both breathless and panting. “Valar, but I missed you,” he murmured at last. “Now, my forfeit. I claim …” he paused awhile, in an obvious pretence of thinking. “I claim you. May I?”
In answer, Orophin reached for the phial of resinous oil Legolas had placed by the bed, and poured a lavish quantity into his hand. Slowly, drip by drip, he began to trickle it onto Legolas’s shaft, determined to exact a little gentle revenge for his own exquisite torment. Legolas drew a shuddering breath and his eyes darkened to the colour of pine. “Orophin …” he moaned. In answer, Orophin turned, pressing his back against Legolas.
Legolas needed no further invitation, and Orophin felt him push forward slowly and surely, soft breath caressing his neck. He stifled a desperate moan of longing as he was breached, revelling in the intense pleasure their joining always brought him, then pushed back against Legolas until his partner was sheathed deep inside him.
Neither of them now wanted to delay the ultimate ecstasy, and Legolas began to move within him with firm, deep strokes, taking him hard and fast. Orophin was already in such a state of rapture that the swirling spirals of passion began to rise up to engulf him in moments. With only a few hard, deep thrusts he came with a keening cry, trying to stifle his wail as Legolas stroked him to completion. His entire body shuddered helplessly as the relentless strokes both inside and out continued, and he jerked again as a fresh wave of ecstasy swept through him.
He lay there, spent and shaking, dimly aware that Legolas had also cried out his passion in the same instant, and had collapsed against him, limp and boneless, holding Orophin tightly against him. He could feel the hard thud of Legolas’s heart against his back, and hear the harshness of his breathing.
Content, sated and exhausted, Orophin pillowed his head against the arm beneath his cheek, and nestled further into the embrace. “Love you,” he murmured, fighting to keep awake.
Legolas kissed his shoulder. “Love you,” he agreed sleepily. Then he whispered, “You guessed. I know you did.”
“Mmm,” Orophin agreed lazily. “Of course I did. But I thought that to allow you to win would be far more … pleasurable.”
Legolas sighed. “A pity.” Orophin felt him smile. “Twas a game I rather looked forward to losing myself. Perhaps next time?”
“Aye. Next time.”
They slept, still entwined, as the morning sun slowly climbed into the sky, casting dappled shadows across the floor of the flet. A gentle breeze drifted through the leaves, stirring the downy fronds of the eagle-feather quill lying discarded and forgotten on the floor.