This close to midwinter, night had fallen long before Legolas and his warriors arrived back at the stronghold. The spiders’ nest they had been sent to destroy had turned out to hold many more spiders than had been anticipated, and the fight had been long and hard. Thankfully, there had been no serious injuries, but most bore scrapes and bruises. Legolas himself had a painful bruise on his flank, as a result of being slammed against a tree by a particularly savage spider. The biting cold was doing nothing to help the stiffening muscles and he longed for a hot bath to ease his aches.
As soon as he had shut the door to his chambers behind him, he stripped off his clothes and staggered through to his bathing chamber. Profoundly grateful for the servant who had foreseen his requirements, he sank into the steaming hot bath that awaited him. He groaned with relief as the heat gradually worked its way into his chilled bones. As the tension drained from his muscles, he sank back and closed his eyes. Now that he was alone, he could finally seek out Elrohir in his dreams.
Maybe it was due to his exhaustion, but never before had his dreams of Elrohir been so vivid. He was cradled against his lover’s bare chest, acutely aware of the press of taut muscle against his back, and a tell-tale hardness digging into his thigh. Deft hands untangled his braids, and then, slick with aromatic oil, circled down his chest, belly and thighs. All the while, a melodious voice murmured endearments into his ear, telling of pleasures yet to come. He hesitated to speak, afraid that if he did the dream would end and he would find himself alone once again. But when one hand slid up his thigh and wrapped around his shaft, he could hold back no longer.
“Ai, so good!” He moaned approvingly as the other hand slid around his hip and into the cleft of his backside. He arched up to allow the probing fingers greater access. “Yes, my love. Don’t stop; have me now.”
A soft chuckle accompanied a nip to the tip of an ear. “As you wish, beloved. I could never say no to you.”
With that, Legolas felt his hips grasped in a strong grip, and he was guided back onto the waiting shaft. He sobbed at the pleasure of being filled, and as he was taken to the brink of ecstasy by the feel of Elrohir’s shaft deep inside him, he prayed that this dream would never end.
Many leagues away, Elrohir lay upon the divan in his chambers, gazing unseeingly at the pale midwinter moon. He may be in Imladris, with miles of wilderness separating him from Legolas, but right now all he was aware of was the feel of Legolas in his arms and the sounds of their loving. He groaned as the echoes of his lover’s joy washed over him and then gasped as he reached his own climax, revelling in the sensation of spilling deep inside his lover.
It was many heartbeats before he recovered his awareness of where he was, and reluctantly withdrew the connection with Legolas’ mind. He gazed out at the snow-covered gardens and gave a wistful sigh. It would be some months before the mountain passes would be clear enough for him to make the trip to Eryn Galen. But until then, at least now he knew they would be able to meet in their dreams.