Title & Chapter Number: A Night In Galadriel's Absence 1/1
Author(s): - Author's Index
Fandom: Middle Earth
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or setting in this story, and I am making no profit from the writing and sharing of this tale.
Warnings: PWP, very light bondage
Betas: None
Cast: Erestor/Celeborn
Timeline: FotR AU
Spoilers: None
Summary: Galadriel makes a trade-off, and Celeborn invites Erestor up for a visit.
Notes: For Alex, who is tired of angst.
"I think a visit to Imladris is in order. It's been a while since I've seen my grandsons."
Celeborn blinked, jolted from his thoughts. He had not noticed Galadriel's arrival, and pale rose color flushed his cheeks as he turned his gaze to her. She ignored his blush, looked past him and downward to where the object of his fascination stood idling by the central fountain. Merriment danced in her eyes though her posture was as straight and elegant as always, the set of her face composed.
"Yes, it would be good to see the twins again before they are grown; young ones grow up so quickly. `Tis a shame you have not the time for a holiday of your own, Celeborn."
He nodded slowly, struggling to maintain his solemn mien. "Aye, but it seems my work is never at an end."
Galadriel inclined her head sympathetically. "'Tis true enough, yet still I think we might have the time, you and I, for a journey of our own."
Celeborn's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and he spoke his next words with care. "Would you like to go on a journey? A holiday, as you put it?"
"Aye, I would. Next spring perhaps, after the rains have ceased." She turned to face him, eyes still sparkling. "If it is your pleasure, my lord." Again her eyes shifted to the figure by the fountain, then back to Celeborn. He smiled.
"I think that would be lovely."
"I am deeply grateful." She smiled, and for a moment she looked no older than a human girl of sixteen; her face became an entrancing blend of impish mischief and perfect beauty. "Now I must send a message on to Elrond warning of my arrival. I intend to leave before midday, and I trust you will not work too hard in my absence."
She turned and left, her movements a graceful glide that did not stir the diaphanous folds of her gown nor the golden stream of her unbound hair. Celeborn smiled broadly. At times like these he did not know if her perceptions were evidence of her uncanny gifts, or if they were merely the intuitive understanding shared by all females. It mattered little, and he found himself grateful to have married an understanding elf who could read his mind whether by methods arcane or mundane.
~*~*~*~
Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel's private quarters were as lovely as all else in the royal talan, but they had been designed for personal comfort rather than as a display of power and dignity. "Comfortable" was the word Erestor would have used to describe them, though he found the varying shades of blues peach and violet slightly too cold for his own tastes. Even so, the colors set off Celeborn's silver beauty to perfection, and Erestor could find no fault with that.
He smiled languidly at the Lord of the Golden Wood, only half listening to the flow of idle small talk as he made himself more comfortable on the low divan. Celeborn had not asked him here to chatter about the weather, or about the fruit harvest, or about the time he'd accidentally dyed a lock of his hair fuschia in one of Galadriel's potions. Erestor knew by the look in his eyes that Celeborn had other, more interesting ideas on his mind. He was simply waiting, biding his time, making sure of his intended prey before making any move.
"My lord." He cut Celeborn off mid sentence, cut off the subtle posturing and careful flirtation. Silver eyes widened, but Erestor made no apology, tilted his head to peer over the rose wood table through a half veil of glistening black hair. "It seems to me that there is something more in your thoughts than…" He gestured vaguely with his hand and widened his own dark eyes, admirably concealing the fact that he had no idea what Celeborn had been speaking of.
"Truly?" Celeborn's words were a low purr. "But what could I possibly find more desirable, than conversing with you?"
"Ah, but I have come here to offer my services, and idle conversation is not among them. You have presented me with no matters of diplomacy or state, so I must wonder what services you would have me render." His smile widened, became dark, cat-like. "I am completely at your disposal, my lord."
"Are you?" The tone was suggestive, all care and subtlety forgotten. Celeborn rose, rounded the table in a whisper of swaying blue silk. Erestor leaned back, stared up at him in blatant invitation. He knew well the image he presented - dark and slender, relaxed, hands resting lightly on parted knees, making no attempt to conceal his desire revealed so plainly by the tight fit of his leggings. His posture was one of wanting passivity, lacking all inhibition, and it had its desired effect. Erestor offered no resistance when Celeborn pulled him to his feet.
Their lips met briefly, touched and parted in a kiss soft as a butterfly's wing. Celeborn's hands were warm steel on Erestor's back, holding him gently yet firmly. Silver eyes transfixed his own, and he could feel Celeborn's breath against his face when he spoke.
"You deserve to be made love to in the softness of down pillows and cool linens, my lovely raven. Let me take you to my bedchamber instead of remaining here where I can only offer a narrow couch or a hard floor."
Erestor hid his smile as he melted against Celeborn, nodded his acquiescence against a blue clad shoulder. Celeborn's gaze contradicted his words; the look in those gray blue eyes said that the couch would be just fine, or the floor, or perhaps even the table top. They said that they saw something beautiful and takeable, something that was begging to be taken. If he were anyone but Elrond's advisor and a figure of influence in his own right, he was sure Celeborn would not have even considered such niceties as beds and linen sheets. If he were a member of the Galadhrim or a servant of the royal talan he would be feeling the heat and strength of the elven lord's lust already instead of being danced slowly backwards toward the silver canopied bed.
Even so, this was a dance Celeborn was familiar with. Though more accustomed to the intricacies of divesting a lady of her gown, he managed the combination of movement, undressing and foreplay with skill. Erestor found himself bared to the waist, did not resist when Celeborn turned him in his arms, slipped a hand down to the fastenings of his leggings. He gave the silver elf exactly what he wanted – a body wanton and sensual, willing and shameless, twisting in his hands only to grant freer. By the time they reached the expanse of white sheets and ice blue covers Erestor was nude, pressed against Celeborn's silk covered body, and he shivered in delightful anticipation as he was lowered down onto soft, down filled pillows.
He watched Celeborn undress through half hooded eyes. His skin was pale, not the rich cream of Erestor's own flesh, but something more akin to steel gone to snow instead of blue-gray sharpness. His was a statesman's body, but the musculature still retained the memory of a warrior. There was definition to this body, proud firmness, strength that was revealed in easy grace and flexibility rather than in bulk. Erestor caught his breath as the last of Celeborn's garments fell away, as he smiled rapaciously down at him. Still evincing soft submissiveness, he reached to take the elven lord's hand.
A moment later the expression of predatory desire vanished from Celeborn's eyes as he was abruptly pulled downward, as the sweet suppleness of Erestor's limbs became iron. Surprise gave Erestor the advantage in spite of the vulnerability of his position, and the struggle was brief. Celeborn blinked in shock as the back of his head softly collided between satin covered pillows, as Erestor covered him, caught and held his wrists in a strong, sure grip. Raven hair hung in a smooth curtain at either side of his face, and he gasped as the advisor dipped his head lower, licked teasingly along the hollow of his cheek.
"I would have been perfectly content to take you on the couch or on the floor."
Erestor's words caused the struggle to briefly resume, but Celeborn found himself unable or unwilling to put up more than a token resistance. It was impossible to do more when Erestor's tongue had found the delicate curve of his ear, when the dark haired elf rode the rising and falling of his body as expertly as he might have ridden a restive horse. He could feel the hot weight of Erestor's desire pressed against his own, felt the vise-like strength of toned thighs squeezing his own, holding him yet paradoxically seeming to urge him on. At last he stilled, shuddering and softly moaning.
"I want you to remain exactly as you are." Erestor pressed his fingers more tightly against Celeborn's wrists, brought them together over the silver elf's head. "And if you do that, if you can be very good, my lord, you will be rewarded." His tone turned sardonic as he spoke Celeborn's title, his cherry lips twisting into something that was both lust inciting and menacing. Celeborn glared, but nevertheless he nodded his assent.
Pale hands clenched, knuckles whitened under Erestor's teasing assault. Erestor's hands moved over his body, explored the breadth of shoulders, danced over pectoral muscles, tantalized peaked nipples. Celeborn's stomach muscles quivered in anticipation soon fulfilled, and he arched his hips upward as Erestor's touch drifted over his flanks, traced over his abdomen, dipped down to firm thighs. Celeborn's fingernails dug into his palms, and he could imagine the crescent shaped impressions being left in soft skin, but Erestor was not granting surcease. Quite to the contrary, the lovely elf was working his way back upward, now interchanging fingertips with tongue tip, occasionally pausing to touch Celeborn's arms, to feel the aching tightness of muscles clenched in desperate desire and confused pride.
Then Erestor's lips touched the head of his cock. Celeborn arched upward, his body becoming a flexible blade bowed by an invisible finger. He imagined red lips parting, felt sweet suction and swirling tongue, forgot about fingernails and strained shoulders. His fists pressed into the mattress, as did his heels, and between those points his body rose, head thrown back and hips canted. Thigh and buttock muscles tightened, released, and tightened again, and Erestor was purring, swallowing, fondling his balls with gentle skill. There was no turning back. Within moments he reached his climax in a flood of silver swept darkness, cried out his release as Erestor swallowed his milky essence.
He was still lost in the daze of his ecstasy as Erestor folded his legs back and reached for the vial of massage oil left on the bedside table. Now he could once again feel the sharp ache in his palms, but it did not seem important to him, was not even a distraction from the warm slickness he felt at his cleft. Erestor's fingers penetrated, one and then two, and Celeborn sighed in warm rapture at the intermingling of sensation.
Tension returned as he was penetrated by something more thick and rigid than Erestor's fingers. He forced himself to relax, was grateful for Erestor's hands holding the backs of his knees. His memory of this act was more visceral than conscious, and by the slow care being taken, Erestor seemed to realize this.
"Been a while?" He asked gently, with no trace of sarcasm or superiority. Celeborn's answer was an abbreviated nod. Silver eyes opened to narrow slits, watched with mounting desire as Erestor held him open, stretched and filled him. There had been a jagged edge to the dark haired elf's voice, and Celeborn licked his lips as he took in Erestor's flushed face, the disarray of his midnight hair, felt the pressure of fingers buried in the flesh of his thighs and the backs of his knees. At last they were joined, and for a moment Erestor remained poised, jaw clenched, eyes closed. His face had become that of an angel, and at last Celeborn could wait no longer.
He rocked in the cradled hold Erestor had positioned him in, hissed as Erestor's length slid within his tight confines. Again he used his joined wrists to propel his movements, and this time it was Erestor who could not control his desire. They moved together, striving onward and upward, and Erestor did not hold back. Occasionally his cock brushed against Celeborn's sweet spot, creating a delicious fission of starlight and midnight, urging him on yet not enough to bring him over the edge. At last Erestor shuddered within him, convulsed in ecstasy rendered forth in darkness, gasped a heated stream of meaningless endearments as he filled Celeborn with his essence.
He maintained his position for yet a while longer before releasing Celeborn's legs, allowing them to fall in jittering bonelessness to the mattress. Smiling sweetly, he touched Celeborn's lower lip as he pulled out of his body.
"I think you've been very good, indeed, Celeborn." He lightly touched the elf lord's arms, swept his fingers to joined wrists and parted them. Celeborn blinked, reached upward to grasp the sloe eyed elf's shoulders.
"Then what is my reward?"
Erestor's gaze drifted lower, focused on Celeborn's renewed desire "Your reward?" He tilted his head to the side, the coyly flirtatious pose even more erotic than it had been earlier in the sitting room. "Your reward is that you may now do as you please with me."
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