Sun-Kissed Blood 6

Sun-Kissed Blood

Part 6

Posted: August 1, 2008
Title: Sun-Kissed Blood
Author: Elohir Mornedhel

*****

“Do you truly wish to go through with this?” Thranduil asked. “It is not necessary for you to complete this part of the ritual, Iônen.”

“I want to, Adar. It is important, not only to me but to our people as well. Already I am too different. This would just make one more thing that separates me from them,” Legolas said quietly.

“Very well,” the king sighed. “I will put together a list of those I think appropriate.”

“May I make a request?” Legolas asked, blushing profusely.

“Proceed.” Thranduil said.

“I would like to have Lord Erestor considered as a possible teacher,” the prince whispered.

“Indeed?”

To say his father was surprised was an understatement. Thranduil wasn’t sure it was a good idea for Legolas to go through with this particular aspect of the Majority ritual. That he should desire an elf from another realm was cause for concern. They had been fortunate so far to keep the prince’s secret, even after the Lady Galadriel’s arrival. The king felt this would be pushing things a bit. However, when he looked into his son’s eyes, he could not deny him.

“Very well, Legolas,” Thranduil sighed. “I will consider him.”

“Hannon le, Ada,” the prince smiled brightly, flashing his fangs in the process, something he did rarely and only in the presence of people he deeply loved and trusted.

It didn’t take long for the king to make his decision. He knew how much this meant to his son. It was a chance for Legolas to be like every other elf in the realm. In light of that, there was really only one choice to make. Knowing that the dark haired Imladrian elf harbored feelings for his son had helped make it a little easier. Now he waited in his study for Lord Elrond and his chief advisor, Lindir standing quietly by his side.

When the knock came, Thranduil straightened in his chair. He nodded to Lindir who opened the door. The two Imladrian elves entered and Thranduil gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk.

“Thank you for coming,” he said politely.

“You are most welcome, King Thranduil,” Lord Elrond said. “I must admit to a certain amount of curiosity concerning this meeting.”

“It is a matter I consider of the utmost importance,” the king answered. “Yet it is also deeply personal. “

“If there is anything we can do to help,” Erestor said. “Please let us know.”

“It is you in particular who will be of the most use to me, Lord Erestor,” Thranduil said. “However, you are also, quite possibly, the most dangerous elf in my realm at this moment.”

“I do not understand,” the councilor said softly.

“As you know, my son, Legolas, will turn fifty tomorrow. He will honor the ancient traditions of our people by taking his first lover, one who will educate him in the ways of love and pleasure. As his father, it is my duty to select his teacher. I want someone who has some care for him, someone who does not look upon his face and see only his beauty. I want someone I can trust not to hurt him for that I will never abide.”

“Of course,” Lord Elrond said nodding his head. “I would do the same for my sons.”

“I am still confused,” Erestor said. “I do not understand why you consider me dangerous. I would never hurt Prince Legolas. I…”

“You are dangerous because he cares for you,” Thranduil said quietly. “You have the power to hurt him more than anyone else. Yet, I must ask though I am hesitant to do so.”

“Saes, King Thranduil, ask.” Erestor encouraged.

“Lord Erestor of Imladris, would you accept the role of Prince Legolas’ teacher on his majority?” The king asked formally.

“Oh dear,” Elrond said as he took in his friend’s shocked expression.

“I…” Erestor paused to take a deep breath. “I would be honored, Hiren.”

“Then please, accept this symbol of your status. It will proclaim to one and all that the choice has been made. You may wear it now or you may wait until the celebration tomorrow.” Thranduil said as Lindir offered the opened box containing the headdress to the councilor.

When the two elves left his study, Thranduil sank back into his chair. He took off his crown and tossed it onto the desk, rubbing his forehead. He wasn’t sure if he had helped his son or hurt him. Whatever the outcome, he could not go back on the decision now.

“Everything will be fine, Hiren,” Lindir said softly as he rested a hand on the blond ellon’s shoulder. “You will see.”

“I pray to the Valar you are right Lindir. Legolas suffers enough as it is. I would do nothing to make it worse.” Thranduil answered.

Erestor sat in front of the fire in his chambers, the coronet box resting on the table next to him. Though the flames danced and twirled in the hearth, they could not grab his attention. That was held firmly by the delicately wrought silver swirls of leaves and branches that made up the headpiece.

Once he donned it, everyone would know he was to be Legolas’ lover that night. It was he who would teach the prince the joys of the flesh, give him his first taste of pleasure at the hands of another. It was every one of his fantasies come to fruition and he was scared to death. For such a private person as Erestor was, this situation was decidedly uncomfortable. His private life was exactly that, private.

The ceremony was only a few hours away. Butterflies danced in his stomach as he contemplated the night before him. Legolas was indeed beautiful but he was also a bit mysterious. Erestor felt there was something the prince was holding back despite how much they had conversed over the last few weeks. He thought the young elf trusted him, but there was a secret he was hiding. From his observations, it was clear Legolas was not like other elves. It struck him how often the ellon seemed alone even when standing in a group of people. It saddened the councilor to think such things but he could not deny what he saw with his own eyes.

Could he go through with it? Could he be Legolas’ lover with all he felt and knew? Yes. Though it had taken him awhile to admit it even to himself, Erestor was in love with the young prince. It had taken several conversations with Glorfindel for him to even say the words out loud. However, he was not ready to admit them to the prince. Legolas was still so young. Erestor had no delusions about what the wood elf might see in him, if indeed he saw anything at all. For all the councilor knew, Legolas viewed him as a favored uncle.

Legolas paced back and forth in his chambers. Though he had tried to rest, his nerves would not allow him. His father had not told him who his teacher would be. Though he knew the king loved him very much and respected him enough to consider Legolas’ request, the prince didn’t know if his father had approved of his choice. Erestor was, after all, from Imladris. He, like many of Legolas’ people, knew nothing of the prince’s… special needs.

Could he even go through with this? Erestor was everything he desired. The councilor made his blood burn through his veins, made his body ache with what could only be desire. And yet, whenever he saw the beautiful dark haired ellon, his fangs practically dripped with saliva, his stomach clenched, and his eyes glowed. These were not the reactions of a normal elf. Of course, Legolas was anything but normal. He was… other.

And he could never let Erestor know that fact. He knew the gorgeous elf would turn away from him in revulsion if he knew what Legolas needed to do to survive. Never had he hated his existence more than at this very moment, when his dreams were so close to fruition… well one of them at any rate. He knew better than to hope Erestor could love him. This one night was all he would have and it would be enough. It had to be.

The prince could feel his fangs pricking his lips. The hunger clenched his belly. He had not fed in the last few days. Before the sun rose on the morrow, he would have to. Legolas knew he couldn’t go much longer without feeding. Already he felt on edge, tense, like a rope pulled taunt. Thankfully his supply room was supposed to have been restocked that morning. He could only hope there were still enough goats to ease his hunger. He hated to think what might happen if there were not.

The time had come. Erestor took a deep breath and placed the silver coronet upon his brow. He looked at himself in the mirror and gasped. The rich deep green of his robes suited his fair skin. He had chosen to leave his inky black hair unbound, save for two simple braids holding it away from his face. Simple elegance had always been the councilor’s preference. He did not feel the need to draw that kind of attention to himself. As he continued to study his reflection, there was a knock upon his door.

“Come in,” he called as he brushed a bit of lint off his sleeve.

“By Elbereth,” Glorfindel whispered as he stared at his dear friend. “Erestor, you look… amazing.”

“Do you really think so?” the brunette asked a blush staining his cheeks.

“I would not say it if I did not mean it. Legolas will be the envy of every elf there, male and female.” Glorfindel smiled as he took his friend’s hands in his. “Such a vision can do nothing but move them to tears of rapture.”

“You are a terrible flirt, mellonen.” Erestor snorted.

“Only when the inspiration strikes me.” The warrior replied with a laugh. “Come, we must not keep them waiting. Such loveliness should be shared.”

“I am frightened, Glorfindel,” Erestor whispered softly. “This is more than I ever dreamed possible. I know it is only for the night but…”

“There is nothing to be scared of, pen vain,” the golden elf answered as he gathered his friend into his arms. “Of all the elves in this land, King Thranduil chose you to be Legolas’ teacher. Obviously the king saw what everyone in Imladris has known for years. You are a special ellon. Your heart is generous and your nature is caring and true. Who better to teach Legolas the ways of pleasure? He trusts you with his son, Erestor, which is a rare thing for any father to do.”

“What would I do without you?” Erestor sighed as he laid his head on Glorfindel’s chest.

“Be incredibly bored.” The warrior smiled.

“Ha,” the councilor snorted. “No doubt my life would be nice and quiet without you causing havoc everywhere you go.”

“As I said… boring.” Glorfindel said cheekily.

“Good evening, Lord Erestor,” Lindir said quietly as he approached the two ellyn. “As Prince Legolas’ chosen teacher, you will be seated on the dais with the royal family. May I escort you there now?”

“Oh lucky you,” Glorfindel snorted. “You get to sit at the same table with Galadriel.”

“She is perfectly fine, Glorfindel,” Erestor chuckled. “Just because she does not find you amusing.”

“Actually…” the golden elf said with a saucy grin. “She found me VERY satisfying as did Celeborn. However, that does not negate the fact she is a very strange ellith.”

“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘too much information’?” Erestor sighed, giving Lindir an apologetic glance.

“You say it all the time,” the warrior sighed. “Quite tedious really.”

“Please, Lindir,” Erestor said. “Take me away from this egotistical oaf.”

“Of course, Hiren,” Lindir smiled as he nodded to Lord Glorfindel. For his part, he liked the golden elf, finding him highly amusing. Not to mention the fact that Thranduil’s chief advisor found the seneschal incredibly sexy.

Legolas looked around the room, not paying attention to the conversation around him. Indeed it was more political talk between his father and their guests. Though he knew he should be listening, he could not stop from searching the hall for Erestor. He longed to feast his eyes on the dark-haired councilor and could only hope the elf was his teacher.

Finally, he spotted Erestor and his breath caught in his throat. The advisor was absolutely stunning in his simplistic elegance. Cerulean eyes darted to the coronet resting upon Erestor’s brow and Legolas turned to his father, a smile making his entire face light up.

“You are welcome, iônen,” Thranduil chuckled.

Legolas rose to his feet as Lindir and Erestor approached the dais. When he looked at the councilor, he felt his heart take flight, pounding rapidly in his chest. Heat suffused him and he knew he was blushing furiously. He caught the gentle smile on the advisor’s face and immediately dropped his gaze to the floor. A gasp escaped his lips when he felt long fingers caress his cheek and then lift his chin.

“No,” Erestor said softly. “There will be no hiding. You need not be shy or embarrassed with me. Not tonight, not ever.”

“I just…” the prince breathed.

Erestor couldn’t help but smile when he noted the blush on Legolas’ face. He knew the young elf was nervous. In all honesty, he was nervous too. Leaning forward, he placed a light kiss on Legolas’ cheek.

“Let us sit down and enjoy this wonderful meal. We have all night, Ernilen, and we will use it if we need to,” he whispered. “We will take this at your pace.”

“Hannon le, Erestor.” Legolas answered.

The prince didn’t know how the councilor managed it. Within moments, his nervousness had disappeared and he felt as comfortable with Erestor as he had during their many nighttime conversations. He laughed at the stories the advisor told him about the many residents of Imladris and some of Gondolin. Knowing the beautiful ellon had lived in the famed city was an awe-inspiring thought. Erestor often had amusing anecdotes concerning Lord Glorfindel but Legolas could see that he cared for the golden warrior very much. Soon the prince no longer thought about what time it was or how much longer the dinner would last. He was enjoying himself for the first time in a long while.

All good things must come to an end. However, that didn’t mean that what came after was a negative thing. Erestor smiled as he rose to his feet, pulling Legolas with him. He touched his forehead to the prince’s and whispered.

“It is time, Ernilen,” he said. “Let us bid our farewells.”

“Time?” Legolas croaked.

“Yes,” Erestor laughed softly. “Do not fear, pen neth. I promise to make this a night you will always remember with pleasure.”

“How could I not?” the prince whispered so quietly Erestor didn’t hear him. “It is you.”

Turning to the other guests at the head table, Erestor made his farewells. Taking the prince’s hand, he escorted him to the spot in front of the king and bowed to Thranduil. Then he tucked Legolas’ hand in the curve of his arm and led him from the great hall. In Imladris, such an exit would have been accompanied by catcalls and rowdy laughter. Most of it would have been led by Glorfindel. With that thought in mind, Erestor turned to look at the seneschal. He caught the wink tossed his way and was given a silent salute with the golden elf’s wine glass. Nodding in acknowledgement, he continued out of the hall with his secret love on his arm.

The walk from the great hall to his chambers was the longest walk of Legolas’ life. Perhaps it was because they made the trip in silence, neither one saying a word. Legolas felt the butterflies return to his stomach and jumped slightly when Erestor laid his hand on his shoulder. The councilor gave him another gentle smile before opening the door to the prince’s chambers.

“We are here,” he said quietly and then ushered Legolas inside.

What happened next? The young wood elf had no clue and so he stood in the center of his sitting room with his hands nervously fidgeting with his robes. He carefully watched Erestor as the older elf moved around the room, lighting candles as he went. Each candelabrum gave a warmer glow to their surroundings when its light was added.

Pausing by a divan placed near the prince’s bedchambers, Erestor carefully removed his robes until only his tunic and leggings remained. Turning, he faced Legolas with a smile and noted how very awkward the ellon was feeling. He looked everywhere but at the councilor. Taking pity on him, Erestor glided over to him, lifting his chin with long elegant fingers. He kissed the prince, soft, gentle, a sweet kiss meant to relax and to sooth.

“Come sit down,” he whispered softly as he escorted Legolas to the couch.

Before the young elf could sit, Erestor grasped his shoulders. He shook his head before moving to the fine robes draping the prince’s shoulders. Slowly he pushed the fabric down Legolas’ arms until it pooled on the floor. Soon the wood elf was clad the same as he, in just tunic and leggings. Then Erestor allowed him to sit.

Turning Legolas to face in the opposite direction, the councilor sat down, taking the prince with him. He drew the young elf back into his arms before reaching for the first braid. Slowly he began to unravel the intricate plaits decorating Legolas’ hair. No further words passed between them while Erestor focused on his task. He kept at it until he could comb his fingers through the pale silken locks and revel in the feel of them sliding against his flesh. How many times had he longed to do that while conversing with the young ellon?

Once he had completed his task, he pulled Legolas back until he was resting against Erestor’s chest. Long elegant fingers, often seen holding papers or quills, danced over concealed flesh in a slow ballet. He wanted the prince to become accustomed to his touch. A small smile graced his features when he felt the tremor that ran through Legolas’ body. His sensitive ears picked up the soft gasp of pleasure and, glancing at the prince’s face, Erestor saw his eyelids flutter closed.

“What do you want from this night, Ernilen?” Erestor asked softly never letting his hands rest as they circled turgid peaks and skirted smooth plains.

“To be with you,” Legolas gasped as the dark-haired elf’s heated breath teased his sensitive ears. “I want to experience pleasure with you.”

“Then that is what you shall do, pen vain,” the councilor whispered, nipping at the sensitive flesh. “To give and receive pleasure is to share something wonderful and special. To share it with one you love is the greatest gift. Always treat your lovers with the utmost respect and discretion. They give you much as you give in return.”

Legolas felt his gut clench at those words. There would be no other for him. Deep inside, he knew this. He could never share his body with another when Erestor held his heart. Before his mind could continue down that shadowy path, clever fingers slid beneath the fabric of his tunic to finally caress bare flesh. A loud moan of pleasure echoed through the room as he arched into the dark elf’s touch.

“Aye, pen melui,” Erestor purred against his ear. “Let me hear your pleasure. Never be ashamed of it.”

The councilor took a deep breath as he watched Legolas writhe in his arms. The young elf was so very responsive to his touch as if he were made just for Erestor, a dreamy notion to be sure. Slowly he drew the fabric up the wood elf’s body, pulling it over his head and tossing it to one side. Taking a moment, he just savored the sight before him. Legolas’ skin was so pale, so luminescent; it seemed to glow with a light of its own. His muscles moved sleekly beneath his smooth flesh, rippling and undulating in a teasing dance of innocent seduction.

Urging Legolas to sit up just a tiny bit, Erestor removed his own tunic. He needed to feel the prince pressed against him, skin to skin. As he slid his hands over the sinda’s stomach, he could not help but picture his sigil there, a permanent declaration of possession, of ownership. He wanted to mark Legolas as his. Shaking his head to dispel such thoughts, Erestor turned his attention back to giving his young lover as much pleasure as he could handle.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes to hours. Legolas could not have focused on any one thing. He was swept away on a sea of pleasure that built within him with each stroke of those luscious fingers. He wanted more, needed more, and craved it with a hunger that rivaled his desire for blood. Arching his back, his head over Erestor’s shoulder, he felt his fangs distend and opened his lips to accommodate them. They pulsed within his mouth as if they had a life of their own.

Whimpers and moans flowed from his lips as he felt Erestor’s mouth along the bare flesh of his shoulder. He buried his fingers into inky black strands, trying to find something to anchor his senses. It was useless. He was cast adrift as this elf; this beautiful ellon swamped him in a sea of sensation. Legolas could not have said when they both became completely naked, though he would bemoan the fact that he’d missed it. He could not have said when they had moved from his sitting room to his bed and, once he felt the press of Erestor’s body above his own, he didn’t care. All that concerned him was finally being one with his lover. All he wanted to know was the feel of Erestor claiming him, of claiming in return.

Working his way slowly down the prince’s body, Erestor nipped, licked and kissed every pale inch of flesh. His fingers followed, teasing along ribs, circling oversensitive nipples until the ellon cried out in pleasure. He dipped his tongue into the well of Legolas’ navel, once, twice, three times, before nipping the flesh below it.

Looking from beneath his lashes, he caught his lover’s gaze. For a moment, he could have sworn those cerulean eyes had gone white, glowing in the darkened bedchamber. Then it was gone. With a negligent shrug, he continued his journey, teasing his way around the base of Legolas’ shaft until those slender hips bucked beneath him. Chuckling softly, he pinned the prince to the bed with his arms and then slowly circled the tip of Legolas’ aching shaft with his tongue. The act earned him a loud cry of his name.

The councilor placed deliberately light licks over the highly sensitive flesh, relishing the sounds Legolas made. Soft moans, loud whimpers and deep groans echoed through the chamber as he took the young elf’s shaft into his mouth. Erestor took great pride in his ability to give pleasure orally. It was an act he had enjoyed with many other lovers. Yet, this time it seemed different. There was a hunger inside him, a desire to drive Legolas over the edge and follow after. It was a primitive feeling the councilor had never experienced before. All he could do was accept it and so he did.

Nothing could have prepared Legolas for this experience. Until this night, the prince had not received even the most innocent of lover’s kisses. His body was untouched save by his own hand. Never had he imagined he could feel like this, as if his body was one tingling mass, without weight, floating on a sea of sensation that carried him anywhere and everywhere. The lips wrapped around his shaft were the only solid coherent feeling in his world. Everything focused between his straining thighs as he tried to shift his hips, to achieve that intangible something just out of his reach.

Tingling began at the base of his spine and he growled deep in his chest. Then the wave broke upon him and he was screaming Erestor’s name. His body shook violently as he spilled his essence into his lover’s eager mouth. The contraction of Erestor’s throat only enhanced the sensations and the prince’s eyes rolled back into his head. Never had he felt anything so incredible and his last sensible thought was that it was only the beginning.

The councilor smiled at the ellon in his arms. Gently he caressed the pale cheek, watched as the pale gold of his eyelashes fluttered open and rational thought returned to those cerulean eyes. He leaned down and leisurely kissed Legolas, his fingers curling around the prince’s neck.

“I… passed out?” Legolas questioned.

“Yes,” the councilor answered. “It has only been a few moments though. How do you feel?”

“Incredible,” the ellon blurted out quickly. His hand shot to his mouth and his eyes went wide at the admission. “I… “

“Legolas,” Erestor chuckled. “You must always been honest with how you feel, with me and with yourself. When we try to hide things that is when trouble happens.”

Suddenly the prince could not look the councilor in the eye. He was hiding something and though he wanted to tell Erestor everything, he feared the beautiful ellon would turn away from him in disgust. Such honesty was not worth the risk of losing Erestor’s affections and regard.

“I… “ he began but didn’t honestly know what to say. It wasn’t until he felt the hard evidence of Erestor’s arousal that he spoke again.”You have not… I mean… we… you are still hard.”

“Yes,” Erestor said with a light chuckle as he shifted his arousal against Legolas’ hip. “What do you think we should do about that?”

A furious blush raced over the prince’s fair skin and his shaft twitched in renewed interest. After a few moments of hesitation, the young elf reached up and gently speared his fingers into Erestor’s silky black hair. With a deep purr of pleasure, he pulled the older elf’s mouth down to his and slowly feasted on him, the predator inside him raising its head in keen interest. Stretching like a cat, the instinctive part of Legolas took control, sliding his tongue aggressively into the councilor’s mouth and claiming it as his own. Erestor gave a delightedly surprised moan of approval.

Hands wandered, mouths roamed and explored smooth flesh. The two lovers savored each touch and caress until they craved more intimate contact, desired more than just to be pressed together chest to chest. Grasping Legolas’ leg behind the knee and drawing it up to hook over his hip, Erestor leaned in and nipped at the tip of the Sinda’s ear, earning a delighted yelp.

“The night is still young, Ernilen,” the councilor purred. “First, I will show you what it feels like to receive, to feel the press of my body inside yours. I will drive you insane with pleasure, make you scream with it and you will know what it is to be thoroughly taken. Then we shall see how well you have learned your lesson.”

With more kisses and hot caresses, Erestor urged Legolas to his knees. He soothed the prince’s returning nerves with light teasing touches and gentle strokes along his heated flesh. Never did he let Legolas come completely down from his peak. He kept the sinda’s body at a steady hum as he positioned the wood elf on his hands and knees.

Savoring the sensation, Erestor drew his long fingers down the strong line of Legolas’ back, delighting in the way the prince arched into his touch. Keeping contact with his young lover at all times, the councilor reached for the phial of oil that had been placed upon the bedside table. Easily he opened it and poured the contents on the smooth curves of Legolas’ buttocks. Letting the glistening fluid slide along the sweet crevice between those tempting mounds, Erestor gently slid his finger along the crease. He watched how the prince’s body trembled in anticipation and sensed a hint of fear.

“Easy, melethen,” Erestor whispered as he leaned over to kiss the sinda’s back. “I will not hurt you intentionally. There will be some pain but I will do all I can to lessen it.”

“I do not care,” Legolas whispered. “Just saes keep touching me, Erestor. I… it… Saes.”

“As you wish,” the dark-haired ellon smiled.

With gentle patience and the utmost care, Erestor prepared the prince. He took his time, heightening Legolas’ arousal even as he stretched the virgin passage with first one, then two and finally three fingers. He waited for a sign that the prince was ready to accept him and almost crowed in delight when it was received. The slender body pushed back upon his hand, unconsciously telling him what the wood elf wanted even as Legolas moaned sweetly.

Grabbing onto his control tightly, Erestor moved into position. He gently pressed the head of his straining arousal against Legolas’ opening, groaning softly as pleasure raced through him like lightning. Never had he felt like this with any of his previous lovers. He had enjoyed them, but none had made him burn almost out of control with desire. No, Legolas, sweet innocent Legolas, held that honor. The prince would never know how much control the iron willed councilor was exerting at that very moment. He had to fight hard not to simply plunge into the waiting passage and feel Legolas wrapped tightly around his hard cock.

The younger ellon whimpered softly at the first touch of Erestor’s burning flesh against sensitive skin. His body quivered in anticipation, fear and something more primitive. He could feel his blood coursing through his veins, burning and seething beneath the surface of his skin until he had to fight to keep what little control he had at the moment. He could feel the hunger within him, right at the edge of his senses. He could feel Erestor’s shaft posed at the entrance to his body and all he wanted was to feel them joined as one. With a whimper of pure desire, Legolas pressed back against the older elf.

“Erestor,” he whispered. “Please… make us one. Make love to me. Let me feel you inside, bringing me so much pleasure.”

How could he resist such a sweet plea? The councilor could not and so he pressed forward, pushing the head of his shaft passed the guardian ring and regretting the hiss of pain the prince tried to hide. Then there was nothing but sensation, the feel of Legolas around him and the sound of the prince’s delighted whimpers. Steadily he pressed, pausing only when the moans took on a more pained tone.

And then he was there, seated deep inside Legolas’ body, pressed against the smooth sweat slicked skin of his back, his arms wrapped around the slender archer’s frame. Giving into a baser urge, Erestor scraped his teeth along Legolas’ shoulder blade, nipping a bit harder than he intended and leaving red mark on the fair skin. A part of him didn’t care, was proud to see his mark on the young ellon. Another part was urging him to take them both to the heights of pleasure, to fulfill his promise and make Legolas scream.

He could not think, could not have formed one sensible word at that moment. The prince felt full, stretched and claimed. His body trembled, his legs quivered and all he could do was moan at the first slow movement of Erestor’s body deep within his. No, there was nothing that could have prepared him for that overwhelming sensation. Desire, raw and primal, shot through him. He wanted more and he growled deep in his chest. His eyes took on that blue/white glow and his nails tore the sheets as he curled his fingers. The hunger stirred.

Hot, tight, perfect, those were the words dancing around Erestor’s head. All of them described the sensation of being buried deep inside Legolas’ tantalizing body. His hands caressed everywhere he could reach until he wrapped long elegant fingers around the sinda’s hard shaft. Erestor kept the pace slow as he began to stroke the straining flesh. He wanted to make this last for as long as possible. He wanted Legolas to scream his name until the wood elf was hoarse from it.

The room was silent save for the sound of flesh against flesh, sweet moans and primitive growls of two lovers seeking that place only they knew. Faster and faster they moved, Legolas pressing back against him just as often as he thrust forward. The entire bed shook with their movement. Panting and snarls of denied release echoed around them. And then he heard it. The sweet sound of his name on his lover’s lips as Legolas cried out his release.

He knew nothing. He thought of nothing beyond the feelings overwhelming his body and the way it jerked and clenched as he released his seed upon the mattress. He could not think beyond the sound of Erestor’s name rushing in a scream from his lips nor the feel of the dark-haired elf’s essence pumping into his body in hot bursts. He collapsed forward, blackness surrounding him as he took the older ellon with him and silken hair billowed around them.

Something surged deep within his body, in his very soul and he felt his fangs drop sharply. He could feel the hunger rushing up from deep within his belly, stronger than he had ever felt it before. Legolas’ eyes narrowed to the vein pumping sweet blood through Erestor’s tempting flesh. The prince shifted and the councilor slipped from inside his body. A deep rumbling growl echoed from within the sinda as he rolled to face the other elf. His eyes glowed with his hunger and it clenched at his belly, tearing at his insides.

Clawed fingers reached out to pull the dark-haired ellon forward. Legolas buried his face against the smooth skin of Erestor’s neck and inhaled deeply, giving a delighted purr. His tongue flashed out to lick at the salty sweaty flesh and the taste was ambrosia. How much better would his blood be? Legolas could practically feel the sweet liquid sliding down his throat and he pressed his tongue more firmly against the councilor’s neck.

Bite, his spirit whispered. Drink deep. Take his life into us. He is ours. We are his. Make him one with us.

“Erestor.” He whimpered in a low guttural voice.

“Mm,” the other elf murmured. “Feels good.”

With his eyes closed, the councilor had no idea what danger he was in. All he knew was the unique sensation of being whole, at peace and complete with this elf beside him. The sharp prick against his flesh drew his attention and he gasped. Legolas’ eyes were glowing a hot blue/white.

“Legolas?” he whispered, surprise evident in his voice.

The sound of his name brought the prince back to himself. He shook his head and looked at his lover. He felt his fangs pricking his lips, piercing them in places and a rock of dread settled in his stomach. And then it didn’t matter. His spirit surged forward, demanding blood, demanding to be sated even as his body had been sated.

With an anguished cry, Legolas flung himself from the bed. He shoved his own wrist in his mouth, feeling the coppery taste of his blood flowing against his tongue. His belly clenched sharply and he nearly doubled over with the pain. Too long, he had gone without blood for too long and now, if he didn’t run, Erestor would pay the price. He knew it as he knew his own soul. He would feed from his beloved if he stayed in the room another moment.

“Legolas?” Erestor said, reaching a hand out to the prince.

“NO!” came the guttural denial.

Legolas tore his wrist from his mouth and surged to his feet. He lunged towards the door, ripping it off its hinges in his haste to get away, to save Erestor from his beast. He smashed through the outer doors to his chambers and ran down the hall on flying feet.

Erestor was a rational elf. He prided himself on his ability to use his mind clearly and concisely in any given situation. However, he’d be damned if he could figure out exactly what had just happened. Of course, Elrond had always commented on his stubbornness… mule headedness as Glorfindel had called it. He knew there was something going on with the prince. It was clearly evident. Now, Erestor decided he was going to get to the bottom of it whether they liked it or not.

Calmly rising from the rumpled bed, the Chief advisor to Lord Elrond Eárendilion took one of the robes that had been left for them and donned it. He gracefully closed the garment and secured it with a simple knot. Then he went in search of his lover… and answers.

Legolas ran as if the Dark Lord himself was behind him. The distance had never seemed so far until that moment. He smashed into walls and collided with archways in a way he never had before, making a horrendous amount of noise. His desperation made him continue on even when his flesh was scraped raw and bleeding. The scent only made his stomach clench and pain lance through his insides.

Finally he reached it, his destination, his sanctuary and haven. Reaching up with shaking hands, he pulled the key down from the door frame. Fumbling with it, Legolas dropped the key several times before he managed get it into the lock. Turning it a little harder than necessary, the lock clicked open and he rushed into the room, sighing in relief.

The room was empty.

*****

Hiren = My Lord
Eárendilion = Son of Eárendil

*****

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