The Perfect Solution
A brisk breeze gusted around the Last Homely House, stirring up the piles of sweet-smelling apple blossom that lay in drifts against the walls. Some of it wafted in through an archway and into the bedchamber that lay beyond. There it settled upon the pack and the trail of strewn clothing that led from the door to the bed. Two stray petals landed upon the face of the gloriously naked, golden-haired Elf who lay upon the bed, his wrists tied firmly to the bedposts.
Elrohir looked down upon his captive and chuckled softly, admiring the contrast of the pale petals against Legolas’ flushed skin. He bent down and softly blew them away. “By the Valar, I missed you so. Promise me you won’t think of leaving for at least a full turn of the seasons.”
Legolas smiled radiantly. “Then I have good news for you: my father has promised to release me from duty for five years. I am all yours for that time.”
With a whoop of joy, Elrohir claimed Legolas’ lips in an ardent kiss. When the need to breathe forced them to separate, he began to work his way down Legolas’ body, using lips, tongue and teeth to renew his claim upon his lover’s flesh. Soon Legolas was gasping, writhing upon the bed as far as his bonds would allow. He moaned when Elrohir created a wet trail around his navel with his tongue and then blew gently across it; then he cried out when Elrohir’s mouth moved even lower. But suddenly he squealed sharply.
“No, no – not there! You know I can’t help myself when you…Ai!” Legolas punctuated his last cry with a determined kick.
Elrohir pulled himself back up to lie facing Legolas. He ran soothing fingers down Legolas’ cheek, a concerned frown furrowing his brow. “What is it? I thought you liked it.”
“I do. I love it, but you know I can’t keep quiet when you do that.”
“Well, what’s wrong with that? You know how much I like to hear you scream and beg.” Elrohir lowered his voice to a seductive murmur. “Sometimes I think I could spend myself, just listening to you, knowing that it is my hands, my tongue and my shaft deep inside you that has reduced you to such a frenzy.”
Legolas bit back a groan. Elbereth, but Elrohir was so hard to resist! Somehow he managed to hold his lust in check. “I know. I’m sorry, but please not here where everyone can hear us. I’ll never forget how everyone used to smirk at us when we came down for breakfast on my last visit. And when little Arwen asked me if I had hurt myself in the night…” If possible, Legolas’ face burned an even deeper shade of red. He shook his head. “I just don’t feel comfortable doing it here where everyone can hear. I’m not happy with everyone discussing us. I cherish each and every moment between us, but I want it to remain private.”
Elrohir leant down and kissed him tenderly. “I understand. I treasure our time together too and I don’t want you to be discomfited.” He leaned over and opened the drawer in his bedside table. “So for now, until I can think of a better solution, I shall either have to refrain from that particular act, or we shall have to use this.” He produced a length of silk with a flourish, which he then tied firmly around Legolas’ mouth, stifling his indignant cries of protest.
In the weeks that followed, never once did Elrohir mention their discussion of Legolas’ first day. He remained considerate of Legolas’ wishes and Legolas was spared his blushes at the breakfast table. On occasion, Legolas would catch Elrohir in hushed conversation with Elladan or one of the valley’s craftsmen. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it except that he got the impression that they had changed the subject just when he’d walked in. When he asked Elrohir about it, his lover would just shrug and say he had been discussing some improvements. Legolas burned with curiosity, but knew better than to press Elrohir further. He trusted Elrohir completely and knew that all would be revealed when he was ready. As his begetting day was rapidly approaching, Legolas suspected Elrohir was arranging for his gift. Perhaps it was a new bow, or maybe even a sword. The thought of a sword crafted by the renowned smiths of Imladris heartened him considerably and he began to look forward to his begetting day with more eagerness than he had for many a year.
On the morning of his begetting day, Legolas was woken by a soft kiss. “Happy begetting day, beloved. It’s time to get up and see your gift.”
Legolas smiled drowsily and ran his hand up his lover’s thigh. “Why get up when I have all I want right here?”
Elrohir chuckled. “All in good time. Right now I need you to get dressed and come with me.” With that he stripped off the sheet and rolled Legolas from the bed, ignoring the indignant squawks this provoked.
Half an hour later, a very puzzled Legolas was fully dressed and riding out of the stables, Elrohir at his side. “Where are we going?” he asked, not for the first time. “And what does this have to do with my gift?”
“You will just have to wait and see.” Beyond that, Elrohir refused to be drawn. Legolas reflected that a new sword was looking less and less likely.
An hour later they were deep in the woods that climbed up out of the valley. Presently Legolas heard the sound of water and before long they arrived at a tranquil pool, fed by a spring that trickled from some overhanging rocks. For the most part the pool was surrounded by slender birches, but a majestic oak spread its roots close to the spring.
“Well, there it is,” said Elrohir.
At first, Legolas could not see what Elrohir meant, but then he gasped as he looked up into the oak’s branches. For there, surrounding the entire trunk was one of the finest treehouses he had ever seen. The house was divided into two rings that encircled the trunk. The innermost ring was behind sturdy walls, but the outer ring was simply an open platform. The entire structure was canopied by a sloping thatched roof.
“Well? Don’t you want to go up and take a closer look at your gift?” asked Elrohir after Legolas had stood and stared in silence for what felt like an eternity.
Legolas whirled round to face him, his eyes ablaze. “That is my gift?” When Elrohir nodded, grinning from ear to ear, Legolas threw himself into his arms. “Oh thank you; It’s beautiful!” Then after an enthusiastic kiss, Legolas sprang up into the branches, eager to inspect the treehouse at closer quarters. As soon as he reached the platform, Legolas tore off his shoes to enjoy the feel of the smoothly polished boards under his bare feet. The planks creaked pleasantly as he strolled about, pausing to admire each detail as it met his eyes. The first thing he noticed was a small stove, already stacked with firewood. A little further around the perimeter was a beautifully carved table and two chairs. From here, a gap in the trees enabled Legolas to look down across the valley. Nestled at the bottom, he could see the halls and outbuildings of Imladris, looking impossibly tiny against the backdrop of the hills and mountains that rose up beyond.
He started as arms wove around him from behind. “I thought you would appreciate the view from here,” Elrohir murmured into his ear. “We can sit out here each evening and eat our meal as the sun sets over the mountains.”
“The view is incredible,” whispered Legolas. “I can’t believe you did all this just for me.”
At that, Elrohir laughed softly. “Well, as much as I did this for you, I can’t pretend that there’s nothing in it for me. Perhaps you’d like to look inside now?” At Legolas’ eager nod, he slipped an arm around the Wood-elf’s waist and guided him through the door.
Inside was a large room, divided up into separate areas by ornately carved screens. There was a small kitchen area by the door, a cosy nook containing a bookcase and two armchairs and there was even a bathing area. But Legolas’ eyes were inexorably drawn to the huge curtained bed that stood beside the window. The view was the one they had just been admiring.
“You see,” continued Elrohir, steering Legolas towards the bed, “just think of all the things we can get up to here, with no one else to hear us.”
Legolas’ heart sped up as he began to think of just that. He scarcely noticed that Elrohir was backing him into the bed until the mattress caught him in the back of the knees. He fell backwards and sprawled across the bed. Elrohir knelt over him, his eyes darkened with passion.
“All the time I’ve been planning this house, I’ve been longing for this moment,” Elrohir whispered. “Just the two of us here all alone with no one to hear you scream.”
At that, he lifted Legolas’ foot up and ran his fingers almost reverently under the heel and around the delicate instep. Immediately Legolas began to gasp and squirm. Elrohir chuckled. “Admit it, my love, you enjoy this. Now I want to hear just how much.”
So saying, he bent down and suckled upon a slender toe. And cradled in the branches of the ancient oak, Legolas gave in to the pleasure of the moment. He cried out his ecstasy secure in the knowledge that there was no one to hear. No one save Elrohir, to whom he willingly surrendered his all.