Request: A feather, a blindfold, chocolate, angst, the word callipygian, a misunderstanding, a happy ending, hot steamy drool on the keyboard sex, make up sex (Separate from the drool worthy part)

Summary: "To love and win is the best thing. To love and lose, the next best." -William M. Thackeray

Author�s Notes: #1: Elvish translations and credit for the poem used can be found on the last page. #2: Point of view switches between the two (as is indicated)

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Erestor�s POV:

I watch my lover while he�s conversing with a few travelling diplomats. The only light in the hall comes from the grand fireplace and the torches lined along the walls. A few of Thranduil�s crystals that hang from the ceiling reflect the warm glow, creating a cosy comfortable atmosphere. The King has always been one for exceptional parties. Everything must reflect the greatness of the Kingdom of Mirkwood, including himself and his son.

Legolas looks exceptionally fine this eve. His lean body is well defined by his green tunic, embroidered with gold and his dark brown leggings. He never cared much for more formal robes, but that does not matter, they would not serve him right. His tunic and leggings set off his lush body perfectly. They are of the finest fabric I have ever seen and I am grateful for it, because it does nothing to hide his muscular frame. Not that my lover is bulky, he�s more feline, like a lazy cat hunting its prey.

The flames of the fire cast a reddish glow over him, making shadows play across his angelic features and his tresses of liquid gold seem coppery. To me he has never been more beautiful. He is relaxed and unguarded, the strain of the past few weeks seems to have lost its hold on him. Then suddenly, when he is listening to one of the diplomats talking, his eyes meet mine. Even after all this time my breath catches as it is held by such fire, such desire. I am convinced he has been aware of my watching him all the time. His knowing eyes are still intensely fixed on me and though I know it has just been for a few seconds, it feels like an age. It even makes me blush a bit. I am millennia older than him, but none other can keep me spellbound like that. And no one else can make me blush, not even Glorfindel with a particularly raucous comment.

A self-satisfied smile plays around his lips and I can�t find it in me to feel indignant. I am not ashamed of the effect he has on me, because I know I do the same to him. His blue eyes are darker, his breathing is more laboured and his tongue darts out every now and again to wet his dry lips. I can almost smell the desire rolling off him. Smiling wolfishly I reverse the roles when he has to look at the Elf he was conversing with for propriety�s sake. My smouldering gaze must feel scorching to him, but not in an unpleasant way. My smile is seductive and my entire stance leaves little to imagination. We will have an early night, methinks.

I push away from the pillar and leisurely stroll towards the doors. I see Thranduil�s eyes dart from me to his almost squirming son, before he rolls them. Yet when he turns to me he smiles softly; he knows his son�s heart is safe with me. There was a time he was not so convinced of that fact, but our steady relationship and our growing love for each other persuaded him to stop seeing me as a merciless seducer of young beauties. If anything there was more danger of a youthful Legolas, sometimes fickle and whimsical, leaving me.

I knew I was in deep when after a few decades of an open relationship Legolas went spider hunting and did not return that day, nor that night. I convinced Thranduil to allow me to ride with the search party. We found him in a small cave with his two companions. One was out cold, another had a grave head injury and the Prince himself suffered from a broken ankle. I cannot describe what I felt when I saw that he was all right. I wanted to sob like a child, scream like a hysterical mother and kiss him like a lover all at the same time. In that moment I realised I could not lose him, in any way.

Not that I�m a sentimental old sod or anything, but I know when to surrender to the yearnings of the heart. For eras Elves and men alike have tried to woo and court me, but I did not budge. Sex was always welcome, but I shied away from a more intimate relationship. As a result I was often called cold and unfeeling, yet I was only protecting my suitors from disappointment and heartache. I am a sensible Elf, I know when my heart and soul are not involved. Yet with Legolas it was a different story. Out of all the Elves on Arda, my fe� had to start singing at the sight of the young, playful, gorgeous Prince of Mirkwood, the son of Thranduil for Valar�s sake� But even for all the obstacles we had to battle I would not have it any other way.

I reach our chambers and smirk a bit smugly; I have a surprise in store for my lover. I shed my clothes but for a pair of satin trousers. The kitchen has delivered everything I requested and I shiver in anticipation. Everything is in position; all I have to do is wait for the star to play out my fantasy.

It does not take him long to reach the door. I can almost hear his rapid breathing. Quickly, my golden god of a lover sneaks in and freezes at the sight of me on the bed, on luxurious sheets, between exotic cushions. I know I have a very comely pink colouring my cheeks from the heat raging in my body. As Legolas approaches I stand and move towards him with a seductive smile playing around my lips.

�Good of you to show up. I had nearly started without you�� I hear his rapid intake of breath and chuckle in satisfaction before pulling him in for a searing kiss. However proud and wilful the Prince can be, in my arms he yields willingly. I nip at his lips relaxing him completely, before I strike. In the blink of an eye I have him tossed onto the bed with one wrist locked in the cuffs hanging from our bed board. He is slow to react through the haze of his desire and with an easy movement I lock his other wrist too.

�Well, that was easier than I had anticipated. You�re getting slow melethron.� I can see his arm muscles strain to test his shackles. They�re strong and tight, he�ll have a difficult time getting out of them, if he even wants to. I grin a bit wickedly as I admire my work, as having Legolas chained to the bed, already blushing with desire, his chest heaving rapidly in this most enticing position, truly is a piece of art. I idly trace a finger down his neck, undoing the clasps of his tunic as I move down. His eyes are trained on my finger�s progression, hissing now and again when it comes into contact with his heated skin. Soon I have him squirming on the bed, making his tunic fall open and exposing his sculpted chest, white like ivory.

He has a hard time breathing, I can see his nostrils flaring, and his pupils are dilated with passion. I can see the considerable bulge in his leggings that must be uncomfortable. But I want to keep him that way for a few moments yet. Legolas always was an impatient one, giving in to his obvious desire to be freed from the troublesome garment would be too easy. Instead I settle across his hips an bend down to capture his lips in a teasing kiss, my hands travelling down to toy with his nipples until they are so sensitive it almost hurts when I touch them. He groans into my mouth, his body coiling and squirming beneath me, at the same time escaping and seeking my torturous touch.

Suddenly I pull away, eliciting the most adorable sound of protest. With a tilted head I allow him to admire the image I make. Ebony hair falling over marble shoulders, red kiss-bruised lips, eyes so dark with desire they�re almost black, I know he likes what he sees. I lick my bottom lip and I see him straining against his bonds and setting his jaw. So far he has not said a word. Good Elf. I like a challenge�

I lean over him to reach under the bed, bringing my chest dangerously close to his sinful mouth. My lover doesn�t waste the opportunity and curls his tongue around my nipple. I close my eyes and slowly let out my breath. He shifts his hips so that our erections brush together and I gasp. For a moment I forget what I was going to do, before I compose myself and grab a hold of the bowl I hid. I pull away, out of his reach and again he makes a sort of disappointed mewling sound.

�Patience, my love.� He knows I will make it worth the wait. I distract him by taking away the cloth that covered the bowl. The intoxicating scent of chocolate fills the room as soon as I do. His lips part and he makes a few impatient sounds. Oh he knows what�s coming, especially when I suggestively dip a finger into the rich, thick brown mixture and stir it for a few moments before bringing it up again and tracing the sweetness covering my finger with my tongue. I push it past my lips into my mouth, my eyelids flutter as I close them. I have a soft spot for anything sweet, chocolate in particular. I pull my finger free with a soft wet �pop�. He�s wetting his lips, trying very hard not to wriggle too much.

One corner of my mouth curls up as I dip my finger in again and I begin to paint Legolas�s chest. Soon the marble white of his soft skin is covered in a sea of dark delight. I take a few moments to admire the image he makes. I know the warm liquid is fuelling the heat running through his veins. I can sense he�s close to giving in to me. I smile wickedly at him, before gathering my hair and flipping it over my shoulder. His eyes never leave mine as I bend down while licking my lips. They for a perfect little �o� as I softly blow some air over his chest. He stifles a curse. I chuckle and do it again. This time he�s better prepared for what�s coming and he just moans. I know he won't keep this up much longer and so does he. I am therefore not disappointed when he curses loudly as I trace my tongue along his abdomen and dip it into his belly-button.

Ah, victory� Our game is to keep silent as long as possible in order to prolong the teasing. Little does my lover know that the foreplay has only just begun. I dip my tongue inside his abdomen and his hips buck up. I can only barely escape having my face smudged with dark chocolate.

�Erestor!� he calls out.

I just look at him sweetly and proceed with my exploration. In my mouth the sweetness of the Prince�s skin is mixed with the touch of bitter from the chocolate. I have never tasted anything more delicious. In my own eagerness it doesn�t take me long to clean his skin from ever last trace of chocolaty goodness, without so much as a smudge on me. All the while Legolas has let out a string of obscenities that would have made Melkor crawl back into whatever black hole he came from.

I�m not anywhere near done with him yet though. It�s too tempting, having him at my mercy while everyone else is at the party and no one will hear his screaming. I shudder at the thought alone because I know I�m going to be the one to make him cry out like that. There�s another treat in store for him. I pull my next surprise from underneath my pillow. It�s a long luxurious feather from an exotic bird from the South, a bird that cannot fly, but that runs like the wind.

My lover is not quite aware of his surroundings, his head is still filled with a haze of desire. It takes him a moment to process what I am twirling between my fingers, then his eyes widen as he realises what it is and what it can do.

�Erestor, what are you going to do with that feather?�

My answer is a wolfish grin; it does nothing to soothe him. He is so beautiful, his tunic hangs open and is gathered at his elbows, his hair is in disarray, his lips are moist, pink and slightly hanging open, his chest is gleaming with my saliva. Perfect.

I teasingly allow the feather to trace his jaw line down his neck and over his collar bone. His eyes follow its every movement and his body shies away from it before I even get the chance to tease his skin. We can�t have that now� I pull one of the satin ribbons keeping the curtains from the four-poster bed loose and blindfold the Prince. He doesn�t protest, yet I can see he�s nervous. Right before I pull the ribbon down over his eyes our gazes meet. He trusts me. It makes my heart flutter and I bend down to gently place a tender kiss on his lips.

Back to work; there�ll be enough time to cuddle up later. This isn�t about our making love; that will come afterwards. This is about animalistic lust. Love just happens to be involved. His breathing is shallow and rapid, I have to calm him down a bit if I want there to be anything left for me. The feather slowly makes its way to the centre of his chest. It doesn�t so much tickle as if caresses him. I can hear a soft sigh of delight and can�t stop myself from smiling. Bringing my love joy and pleasure is one of the most profoundly satisfying aspects of my life.

When the feather reaches his abdomen and circles his belly-button he inhales sharply and shies away from it. I correct its position and trace the outline of a hipbone. He�s biting his lip now in anticipation of what is coming. I smirk and swiftly untie his leggings, pushing them down and over his hips.

***

Legolas�s POV:

I cannot help myself from gasping when his cool fingers make quick work of my leggings. The cool air soothes my heated flesh as it springs free from its confinement, but I know he won�t allow me much respite. All I see is the darkness of my blindfold, but it does not matter. I trust him, I love him. If anything, it enhances my sensitivity, particularly since I do not know what is coming and have no way of preparing myself.

I try to relax my body as best as possible. It does not tickle so much then, but it does spread a fire underneath my skin. I can feel my blood pumping towards my hard cock. Every stroke of the feather seems like his touch, his kiss, his lips upon me. He�s driving me wild without actually touching me. I am nearly sobbing now, my body is so sensitive now that I am risking an overload.

�Erestor, saes, have mercy! Saes��

For a moment he removes the feather from my skin and I can feel his presence hovering over me.

Aaah! I nearly arch off the bed as the soft lightness of the feather strokes the sensitive head of my erection. I have to swallow and squeeze my eyes shut in order not to come just yet. It moves down along a tantalising path until it reaches my balls. I am gasping for air, desperately trying to regain some level of control over myself, but he won�t allow that. Somewhere along the way he must have settled on the bed aside me instead of straddling me. I am so close� I see stars sparkling behind my eyelids. Not yet, Elbereth not yet. I want to prolong this sweet torture just for a moment longer. Then he undoes me with his husky voice in my ear.

�Come for me, my Prince. Let me see your desire for me.� His voice is my undoing, it is too much, the passion, the desire, the love there draws me over the edge. With a long moan I climax. Waves and waves of hot, searing pleasure engulf me as every muscle in my body goes taut. Stars explode behind my eyelids. I don�t register his untying my arms, they just fall next to my body limply. There is a fine sheen of sweat covering my skin and the thing that draws me back to Middle-Earth from my ride on the stars is the feeling of his hot tongue tasting the salt on my chest.

He removes my blindfold and if I could I would come all over again, just then and there, from the sight of him alone. My raven. He is the most sensual Elf I have ever met. Even his movements when writing a report hold something tempting, something sinful. I whimper lightly and he chuckles. He knows how to play me so well.

�Oh no fear pet, I am not enar done with you��

Erestor reaches for the bowl on the nightstand and dribbles some chocolate on my lips. I lick it off eagerly, the mixture of sweetness and bitterness filling my mouth instantly. He watches the movement of my tongue mesmerised. His eyes darken even more and I can see his elfhood straining against the fabric of his trousers. I involuntarily lick my lips. He groans at the sinful image I make and rolls off of me to take off the bothersome garment. It also gives me enough time to become aware of my arms again and when he is finally naked I have thrown away my tunic as well.

Before he can do or say anything I flip him over and lose no time but immediately lick a wet trail from the base to the tip of his hardness. He lets out a strangled noise as I hum around the tip, sending the vibrations all the way to his spine. Oh how I love to do this. The taste of him alone makes me want to do things� I can feel every little spasm of his muscles in reaction to my ministrations and work my best to satisfy him. One hand strokes his cock in tandem with the movement of my mouth and the other one comes up to caress his balls.

His head falls back in sheer pleasure and I suddenly think we should have a mirror installed above the bed so that I can see his expression at all times. Not that I need any more incentive. His taste, his scent, the sounds he makes are enough to coax me into hardness again. Elvish stamina, you have got to love it. His legs fall open, one hand supports his weight as the other tangles in my hair. He controls my movements with it and I let him. It is his game tonight and I agreed to play along.

It does not take him long to pull my head up for a savage kiss. His tongue plunders my mouth and I surrender completely to him. That seems to arouse him even more and he releases me. He�s heaving for breath an so am I. His lips are red from the bruising kisses and I cannot help but feel a little flutter of pride at being the one to cause it. �On your knees. Now.�

It�s not a question and I eagerly obey as he settles behind me. Whenever he gets like this, good, wild and most satisfying sex is sure to ensue. He quickly pulls out the oil we use as lubricant and it doesn�t take long before I feel a finger teasing my entrance. He may be on the edge already, but Erestor never forgets my pleasure, he always makes sure to take his time on this. I moan and wriggle my hips to encourage him. I need this so bad I think I�m going to burst. Soon he adds a second finger and croons them. I let out a surprised yelp as he hits his mark dead centre. �Ah yes, scream for me, meleth. You seem surprised� Have you forgotten that I know your body inside out?� He makes his point by stroking the gland again.

I screw my eyes closed against the sensations threatening to overwhelm me. I want him to be inside of me when it happens. �Tell me, lover,� he whispers hoarsely in my ear, �what do you want?� I gasp and pant, I think he added a third finger, but I�m not sure. My arms tremble with the effort of holding my weight. I take a moment to gather my wits before replying. �I want you to fuck me so hard that I won�t be able to sit through a meeting tomorrow.� The rawness of my voice even surprises me, but apparently it also pleases him, because he nearly growls.

I can hear the slippery sounds of his own hand spreading the oil over his erection and soon his fingers at my entrance are replaced by something bigger, harder and better. I hiss as he slowly buries himself to the hilt with one long smooth stroke. �You are mine, Legolas. Tonight I will show you why again.� With that he pulls out of me as far as possible, before thrusting back in. He sets a brutal pace and I am lost from the first moment. All I can do is grab his muscular thigh and hold on for the ride. He hits his mark with nearly every stroke and just when I think I can�t take anymore, his long fingers curl around my cock and he begins pumping it.

It takes him only three strokes to make me come so hard I nearly black out. I know my internal muscles must be squeezing him almost painfully, but I cannot seem to be able to stop my muscles from convulsing. He shoots his hot semen inside of me moments later, my name on his lips. He rides out the waves, before the both of us collapse onto the tangled sheets. There is no sweeter exhaustion than that of the aftermath of good sex. Even though we are both sweaty and sticky with fluids, we just curl up around each other. Bathing will be for tomorrow.

�I love you,� I say, but I don�t expect him to say it back. He does love me and he has said so, but he doesn�t say the words too often. I really do not mind, I have the need to express my love verbally and he doesn�t. It makes it all the more special when he does.

�Sweet dreams, Ernilen,� he whispers in my ear and I smile, while already dozing off. In his arms I am safe from everything. I know I will sleep like an Elfling tonight.

***

Erestor�s POV:

The next day I find myself sitting in my study at the dead of night, trying to get some of the work done I should have finished yesterday. I smile at the memory of what caused this delay though. For a moment I indulge myself in a little reverie, but I catch myself in time before I truly get carried away. These reports are due tomorrow and lover of the Prince or no, the King does not like to make exceptions, as much I don�t like being an exception.

I am nearly finished when there�s a soft knock on my door. It is late and there can only be one person who comes into my office at this hour: Legolas. Did he come to mess up my schedule again? I smile as I call out a faint enter. Yet the Elf that comes in is not my lover, nor is he a Mirkwood Elf. I frown and look at him in surprise.

�Lindir? Do come in. Is there anything I can do for you?�

My friend seems nervous and even a bit skittish? What could bring the minstrel here at this hour? There is a faint blush on his cheeks and he fumbles with his hands as he comes in. I have known Lindir for a very long time, intimately even, and this is unlike him. We were lovers for some time, but we both realised it was no everlasting love. Even though Lindir may seem shy to others, he is in fact more cautious. Trust is something that does not come easily for him.

For a brief moment I consider the possibility that he still harbours feelings for me beyond friendship, but I soon dismiss it as impossible. He�s not a foolish Elf and he recognises our relationship for what it is. He�s never shown any signs of a hidden love for me and as Elrond�s chief Counsellor I am a master observer. If there had been a secret desire, I would have noticed over the centuries. He sits down on the edge a chair, ready to jump up any time. He clears his throat before lifting his eyes to look at me. His blush deepens and I start to worry something serious is off. It takes him a few breaths to open his mouth.

�Erestor, I am sorry to bother you at this hour, alone, but I need your help.�

His voice is pleading and my frown deepens as my concern grows. What is going on? �Of course you can count on me, Lindir.� I still don�t see where this is going, but Lindir�s entire posture promises nothing good. He seems to be thinking of what to ask me first, before he looks at me speculatively. �What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Legolas?� The question takes me aback. What is this about? Frankly the first word that flashes in my head is callipygian along with the alluring image of said buttocks, quite naked, when he gracefully stepped out of bed this morning, but I can�t really tell him that.

�Lindir, what is this? You are not entirely yourself it seems. Whatever is ailing you, we will find a solution.�

He looks at me and bites his lips, �I�m afraid there isn�t really a solution for this one�� He fidgets with the hem of his tunic for a moment before lifting his gaze and seeing worry in my eyes. Quickly he shakes his head and laughs a bit in embarrassment. �No, no, Erestor it is nothing serious� well it is, but it�s not� I mean curable� not that I want it to be!� he adds quickly and I just get more confused at every word that escapes his lips. My incomprehension of his babbling must have shown on my face, because he sighs and relaxes his posture.

�What I am trying to say is that� I�ve fallen in love with someone and� I don�t really know what to do.� I actually sigh in relief at his admission. He was really starting to scare me with his incoherent speech and uncharacteristic behaviour, not to mention his indiscreet question. It all makes sense now. I cannot help from smiling. �Oh don�t laugh at me Erestor!� he says, turning an even deep shade of red.

I regain control of the muscles around my mouth and nod. �Alright. What can I do to help you then?� Lindir licks his lips, as if thinking this idea over in his mind again, before deciding to trust me with this information.

He smiles partly in relief and partly because he is still a bit nervous and insecure. �You see the problem is this��

***

Legolas�s POV:

Sitting through a council is indeed a bit comfortable and I can see my father is trying very hard to pretend he does not know the reason for my squirming. Oh how I enjoy making him uncomfortable like this. I have never much cared for propriety and public decency, although I never will forget that I am a Prince and should act as such. But sometimes I cannot resist teasing my father. I swear he is this close from twitching his eye. I can�t wait for this to be over so that I can go to Erestor and do something a lot more fun than discussing the width of the roads between the Northern regions of the Wood and the Palace.

When this excruciatingly boring council is finally over, I see my father approaching me. Bugger. He�s going to want retribution. Never mess with a Second Age Elf. That is rule number one! I suppress the urge to facepalm and look at him resignedly as he stops in front of me. �Legolas, dear son, would you mind going over these summaries again to see if we can find a solution to the pressing matter?� I almost wince; father knows how much I hate the administrative side to ruling a Kingdom. I know better than to refuse though, so I just follow him to his office. I do kind of deserve it�

When he finally releases me, it�s well after midnight. I know my lover, however, and since I have not stopped by his study to drag him to our bed yet, that probably means he is still there. I almost run through the hallways, spurred by an inexplicable urgency to see him.

I reach his office and flip my hair over one shoulder, pull my tunic straight and moisten my lips before reaching up to knock when I hear him talking to someone. That�s odd. At this hour no one would disturb him. Perhaps out of fear of finding him and the Crown Prince in a compromising position. We do tend to do that in public places� The door is ajar and I can see my love sitting in his chair, smiling sweetly at someone while holding a paper. I know I shouldn�t peek like this, it looks like eavesdropping, but nothing of what is being said is actually registering. I�m just enjoying the view and�

Then I hear the voice of the person he is speaking to my intestines go cold as ice. Lindir. What is he doing here at this ungodly hour? My mind is reeling with possibilities and I have to steady myself against the doorframe. I don�t want them to know I am here, so I stay very still. I am one of the better warriors at stealth of the Kingdom after all. I can hear my lover chuckle and this time I do cock my ears. �Quite true songbird, perhaps this is better fitted for the occasion?� The mention of that old nickname, no, pet name is a better way to describe it, makes my blood boil. Erestor is mine, mine alone and I will not share!

He pulls the paper towards him and glances at it with a secretive smile. Then his beautiful melodious voice drifts through the room filling it with warm sounds, stabbing me through the chest with every word he says.

�I carry your heart with me (I carry it in

my heart) I am never without it (anywhere

I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

I fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)�

Erestor�s voice is a bit wistful, as if he is remembering all the sweet moments they shared together.

I can hear Lindir sigh delicately, �It is beautiful Erestor�� I cannot bear to hear anything more. I am nauseous and feel chilled to the bone. How can he do this to me? How can my raven betray me like that? I feel hot tears streaking my face. It does nothing to express the profound agony I feel at his betrayal. It is like an ugly beast is trying to claw its way out of my chest. I want to scream, I want to hit something, I want to curl up and cry, I want to� I� want this pain to go away.

I lock myself into our room and curl up on the bed. The sheets still hold his scent. Slowly I pull up walls around my pain, just like I did when naneth died. I will be completely numb by morning.

***

Erestor�s POV

Lindir and I talk for hours, we have not seen each other in years. Out lives are so different now. He talks of the Imladrin guard who captured his heart and I tell him things about Legolas and me I have never said to anyone else. It is in these moments that I realise just how much I miss him. He has always understood me on a level none but Glorfindel could in Imladris. Even Elrond frowned more at my peculiarities than the minstrel.

It is near morning when we finally part and I decide to spend the night in my study. It isn�t the first time I�ve done so, Legolas shouldn�t be too worried. The reports will be finished in the morning and then I will go and freshen up in my chambers. It is a bit odd that he hadn�t stopped by, even if only to wish me goodnight, but he had seemed tired and perhaps he does need the rest. I think no more of it and fall asleep on the sofa peacefully.

The next morning is not so merciful on me however. The fire in my study has gone out, it is cold without my lover at my side and after sleeping in a large comfortable bed I am unused to the hardness of the couch. Some of my muscles are cramped and I feel old for the first time in many years. Time for a hot bath methinks.

After I freshen up and dress for the day I decide to eat something and then find my lover. I have not seen him yet and he wasn�t in our rooms. That is slightly odd, but as Crown Prince of Mirkwood he has obligations and there are some periods in which he has little time for me. It is the same when I am called back to Imladris, but usually he lets me know when he is too tied up to see me. No one seems to have seen the Prince today and his horse is missing from the stables. Something is off, but I can�t tell what exactly. It is unlike him to just take off without informing anyone. Even Thranduil doesn�t know his whereabouts.

�Don�t worry Erestor, he is a grown Elf and an able warrior, perhaps he needs some time alone or perhaps there is something that requires his immediate attention. You know how impulsive he is.� I do and that is what worries me, the Prince is intelligent and cunning, but sometimes he just plunges in head first without thinking of the consequences. Thranduil comes up to me and actually puts his hand on my shoulder. We never did get along too well, there is too much that happened in the past and I am not exactly the chief counsellor of his best friend. Yet we are connected in our love for Legolas.

�I appreciate your concern, mellon. There was a time where I did doubt your attachment to him, but I know now that you think you are in the reverse situation. But I know my son, and I have never known him happier or more in love than with you. That is more than enough for me. He will come round fully and, Manw� help me, I hope he does. You are a worthy Elf Erestor.� I am surprised at his words, but also grateful that Thranduil is able to past my ancestry and our differences. The thing that baffles me the most is that he knows of the silent struggle, the problem that has been gnawing at me for years.

We have an established relationship now, have had one for neigh a century and we have been circling around each other for over two centuries more. But Legolas has never seemed to fully give himself to me as of yet. I know I am ready for the next step, but I don�t want to scare him. He is young and has so many things yet to see and discover. Not that I doubt his steadfastness or his loyalty, but perhaps he likes the idea of not being completely attached just yet. I sigh and nod, �I know, my Liege, I thank you for your wise words.�

But when I go to bed alone that night, I can�t shake the feeling of foreboding. Our f�ar share a bond on a certain level and I sense a disturbance, but it is as if he is fleeing me every time I reach for it. I do not get any sleep that night.

The first time I see him is the next day at breakfast. He enters the hall and I nearly jump up before hurrying to him, sick with worry. At first glance he seems fine, but then I look into his eyes and I see a chilling coldness that makes me stumble backwards. What has happened to him? He seems devoid of feeling and his icy stare cuts through me like a knife. Without a word he turns. The entire hall has fallen silent, but I care not. It only takes me a moment to run after him through the hallway. I don�t care if everyone thinks me a fool. �Legolas!�

***

Legolas�s POV:

I was in the Woods all day and night, steeling myself against any lingering feeling of affection towards him. He does not love me, he was playing with me. Father was right to warn me a century ago. I was a fool in love, I did not heed his advice, I believed Erestor to love me truthfully. I was wrong, absolutely wrong. Who knows for how long he has been striking up liaisons while I thought him faithful. My common sense is trying to reason with me, telling me I must not jump into conclusions. I kick it savagely. There is nothing to jump into, his actions and words were crystal clear to me.

When I finally do go back, I see him sitting at the table, conversing with some Elf I do not know. Are they involved as well? Despite all my intentions not to care and not to feel, my blood boils at the mere sight of him. He even has the audacity to dash towards me as if he missed me and worried over me. I bet he wasn�t worrying over me when lying in Lindir�s arms. It�s too much, I turn away before I make a scene in front of the entire court.

When he follows me into the hallway however and calls my name, the volcano, full of rage, inside of me erupts. �What?� I say after spinning. �What can you possibly have to say to me now? I truly thought I had found love, but it turns out you were laughing at me behind my back all the time. How many are there, Erestor, tell me, how many!� I see him flinch at my outburst and I derive a sick sort of satisfaction from that. I want him to feel the pain like I do.

�Legolas what are you talking about? How many what are there?� Is he truly too cowardly to admit it then? Part of my brain is telling me to stop, to keep silent, that it is clear that something else is going on, but I don't seem to be able to stop myself. �I saw you Erestor. How dare you deny it? Do you think me daft? Go back to your fuck-toy Erestor, I am done.� With that I walk away, both in relief and disappointment that he does not follow me. When I reach my old rooms, I slump against the door after I shut it. My eyes burn, but no tears come. Somehow I wish they would.

I don�t know how long I sit there like that, but after a while there is a gentle knock on my door. I don�t react to it, my entire body feels drained. I wish for it to go away, I wish for everyone and everything to go away and to leave me alone. I am afraid to let go of my anger for if I do there will be nothing but a large black hole of emptiness and grief. How could I have been so wrong? I�m so tired. I have not slept all night. I crawl towards the bed and curl up, hoping to be able to escape the situation in my dreams.

When I wake up, there�s a tray with food on it sitting in front of the door. There�s a note lying next to it saying my father wishes to see me in his study that night. I sigh and leave the meal untouched. I am not hungry. I really do not want to see my father now, but I know I cannot refuse a summons like this. I will have to face him sooner or later. Perhaps it would indeed be better if I got this over with as soon as possible. I spend my afternoon going over what I will tell my father when I see him.

As I walk up to his chambers though I do not know what to say. He was right about Erestor after all. I was toyed with for a century. I have made a fool out of myself and my family. Can I even look him in the eye? I should have trusted his wisdom. I am a disgrace of a son. I defied him and nothing good came of it. I take a steadying breath before knocking and entering.

My father is sitting behind his desk, his eyes clouded with concern for me. �I have come father.� My voice seems oddly strained to my own ears. �Sit down, Legolas,� he says, his tone gentle and soothing. Before he can say anything more, I cast my eyes down. �I wish to apologise, sir, for disregarding your advice regarding my love interests a century ago. I should have listened to you and not have pursued this relationship. I have brought shame upon myself by disrespecting you and for that I am deeply sorry.� It hurts to say these words and that surprises me. It feels as if they are untrue and it is a lie I am trying to convince myself of. Good has come off it and even through this pain I would not trade the years of happiness I had with Erestor for not being in this agony.

Thranduil stands and looks at me pointedly. �My son, you are smart and I love you, but this is the most crap I have ever heard from you.� I meet his gaze in confusion and frown. What does he mean? He has been against my relationship with the Counsellor from the very beginning. �You followed your heart, Legolas, that takes courage. You defied me and persisted and became happy with him. You proved me wrong now you want to throw it all away just like that? Relationships need work. It is true I have never really been a fan of Erestor, but I respect him and he loves you. He once told me that there was more danger of your leaving him than there ever was of his abandoning you and now I truly realise that he was right. It is time for you to think, son, and to assess the situation. Why are you really shying away from this? And don�t say you think he has other lovers because that is a lie and you know it. You may not wish to see it yet, but you have to solve this; the two of you will talk.�

During his speech my father moved to the door and stepped outside, I hear the key turn in the lock. My mind is reeling with everything he said to me. Is it possible that I am trying to find an excuse out of this relationship? My anger rears its ugly head in defiance. Of course not, I saw what happened! But doesn�t he deserve a bit more credit� Before I can think more on this, I hear Erestor stepping out of my father�s private bathing chamber. He looks pale, but his jaw is set and his eyes are hard. �Let�s talk,� he says as he leans back against the door he just came from.

***

Erestor�s POV:

I see his eyes flare at the sight of me, but it does not intimidate me in the least. The words he flung at me in the hallway still burn brightly in my memory, but I cannot find it in me to hold them against him. I asked myself where all this anger came from, this terrifying rage must have deeper seeds. I think I�ve found it, the strongest incentive for anger: fear. Even now I can sense it rolling off of him in waves. Thranduil recognised his son�s elusive behaviour and agreed to help me. �What is there to talk about?� my Prince lifts his chin in proud defiance and I can�t help myself from finding it utterly attractive in a way. I will not lose him.

�Why you are so angry with me, for starters,� I say, hoping he will give me some sort of real answer this time �You owe me that.�. Legolas eyes me for a moment until he sighs and leans against Thranduil�s desk. �Two nights ago I had been detained from seeing you by a long council session. When I finally do reach your study in the dead of night I find you there with Lindir, your former lover, reading love poetry to him. You did not even come to our rooms that night. Why do you think I am angry?�

I can see the colour rising to his cheeks and a small flicker of something in his eyes. I know my lover and his mind and it works faster than one might think. He is already second-guessing his own findings, but is too stubborn to admit to it yet. �Well if that is so, why aren�t you mad at Lindir?� I can see he is taken aback, �What?� I raise an eyebrow, �In all of this I have seen you lash out at me, yet Lindir has been around these two days as well, why did you not publicly scorn him?�

He does not grace me with an answer, but just crosses his arms. I push away from the door and take a few steps towards him. �You see, what I think is happening here is that you already know that there is nothing going on between Lindir and me. Let me explain why he was here and what really happened. You see, Lindir and I are very good friends, we always have been and always will be. Yes, we were lovers once, but we both know that we are better off as friends than as anything more. But we still go to each other with pressing matters that require special attention. The reason for Lindir�s visit was that he needed advice and he knew you still harboured some jealousy over our former relationship so he decided to bother me late at night rather than in broad daylight. The advice he needed did involve my love poetry, but not for the reasons you might think. You see, Lindir has never really been good with words, he works wonders with music, but all of his lyrics are written by other people. He claims he has fallen in love, for real this time, and he needed my help. The words you heard that night were not words I wrote for him, it was a poem about you and me. I wrote about what I feel for you, for us, hell, I even thought of us as I read it to him.� As I am speaking I involuntarily advance towards him. The need to touch him, to have some sort of contact with him nearly hurts physically.

�I love *you* Legolas, I may not say the words often, but that doesn�t mean that I don�t. I would never betray you and I want to spend the rest of my days here by your side, but I can�t do that if you don�t trust me. What is it that you are afraid of Legolas?�

I can see him get smaller at every word I say. His eyes are wide and he cannot bring himself to look at me. He is biting his lip, but I do not allow him to retreat in his shell. I lift his chin and make him look at me. �Tell me,� I almost whisper. I cannot show him the true depth of my desperation, he cannot know just how much weight lies on his decision now. If he clamps shut I will lose him and I do not know if I can bear that.

He swallows and nods as I let go of his chin. �It is not so much that I don�t trust you, it�s more� I don�t trust myself enough. You are millennia older than I am Erestor, how could I possibly interest you for long. That I have been able to keep you this past century is an achievement on its own. I guess I was just waiting for something like this to happen, for someone else to steal you from me.�

I shake my head and take a hold of his hand. �You don�t get it, do you? Exactly because I am so much older am I able to see this for what it is. I can tell you in all honesty that I have never felt this for anyone else before. I have been so ready for this for so long, I have been waiting for you for so long. What could you possibly want with an old sod like me? I could ask you that, but I already know the answer, it�s the same reason I will never abandon you.�

Legolas looks at our joined hands and suddenly embraces me. �I am such a fool� I am sorry for the things I said and did to you. You must believe me that my love for you was never shaken. It is perhaps why I was so angry, that even if you had betrayed me that I would not be able to stop loving you, and that terrifies me.�

I gently soothe him and kiss his forehead. �You do realise that if we continue this relationship, there is no going back for either of us. You must trust me and my love for you.�

My lover looks up from my shoulder and smiles gently. �I have something better, I will trust *our* love.�

That night is one I will never forget. For the first time I sense such a strong bond between our f�ar that it enhances every sensation, makes him that more beautiful than he already is. It is like we are kissing for the first time again, like we are making love for the first time. There is no rush in shedding our clothing, no passionate vulgarities escape our lips, it is just him and me. I map every inch of skin with the tips of my fingers and then again with my lips and tongue. He gasps and pants, looking more ethereal than ever clothed only in the moonlight that enters our room through the window. I cannot believe what a lucky Elf I am.

This time he takes the lead as if to show his devotion to me. His hair, almost like liquid silver in the moonlight, tickles my skin and we giggle like younglings. There seems to be something more to every touch every movement than there ever was before. Like this has more meaning than before. I relax my body as one of his oiled fingers enters me. All I can do is hold onto his shoulder and gasp his name. He takes his time preparing me, his eyes sparkle as he watches my facial expressions. Every now and then he places a tender kiss upon my temple, my nose, my collar bone, my chin and finally my mouth.

He pushes into me, never letting his eyes off of mine. When he is fully sheathed it feels as if I was somehow always broken, but am whole again now. I know he must be feeling it too, because he stays very still and groans. It is a most exquisite feeling, like a warm blanket enveloping us both, hiding us from the rest of the world. Finally Legolas gives into our need and begins thrusting. He sets a languorous pace, but just perfect for us. The things he does to me� My heart swells and I feel the absurd urge to cry, but don�t because I am tumbling, tumbling over the edge and it is taking me farther than I have ever been. I do not even know if he is coming with me, but he must be because he is chanting my name like a prayer. I have the strange notion that everything will be okay.

When he is curled up behind me, already sleeping peacefully I watch our hair. Ebony and ivory, forever entwined.

If one would care to look closely at them, they would see that it is unclear where the glow of one f�a ends and where the other one begins.

***

Elvish translations:

Melethron: lover

Saes: please

Meleth: love

Ernilen: my Prince

Naneth: mother

F�ar: plural (f�a: singular) soul

Ion n�n: my son

The poem is by the very talented E.E. Cummings. Even though it may have been read and quoted too many times before, even though it may have turned into a stupid clich� by too many readings, no one can deny that the text on its own is one of the most beautiful love poems in the world.