Disclaimer: Legolas belongs to Tolkien. I just borrowed him for a morning of passion.

A big thank you to alliwantisanelfforchristmas for the beta job and writing the beautiful summary. This is dedicated to her for all she does for me.

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Nedh Elei

She lay upon the bed, a pale blue sheet draped across her body. The last remnants of sleep were just beginning to drift away in the cool breeze coming in from the eastern window, fluttering the sheer white curtains in its wake. Rolling onto her side to face the window, she felt the pleasant contrast of the warmth of the sun. Her eyes started to focus, the vivid colors she had walked among during her sleep sifting back to the muted hues of a waking life, the shapes and forms of her dreams molding into the pieces of furniture scattered within her chamber. Eyes focused further, and to her delight she found two sea-blue eyes beaming back at her.

“Legolas,” she whispered languidly, believing to be caught still in a dream.

A finger placed gently against her lips stopped her from speaking any more words, but did nothing to stop the smile that alighted on her face. He treasured that glorious look of lazy recognition and wonder upon her countenance, and treasured even more that it should be there because of him. Hair the color of honey framed her face in silken waves, piling lustrously at her shoulders. One delicate hand lay clutched at her breasts, the other hid beneath her pillow. A single light sheet clung to her generous and graceful curves. Truly, she was a vision to behold.

“Shhhh, meleth,” he hushed, smiling kindly at her.

His form seemed to extricate itself out of the haziness of dreams as he crouched there beside the bed. The pale yellow light of the morning star gilded the already rich hue of his hair. His face was lit with love and compassion and a hint of mirth. He continued to just barely stroke her lips. She felt the slightly coarse skin of the archer’s forefinger as it traced the curves of her mouth. She reveled in his touch, and yearned for more.

“Legolas?” she said, still disbelieving he was truly there.

He knew she wanted more of his touch. He delighted in the effect he had on her, and in the effect she had on him. She was entranced by him, powerless to move and to protest his scant caress of her lips. He wanted to touch her more, but he was unsure, still uncertain of what this was. Besides, he reveled in making her wait.

“Legolas,” she repeated, slightly annoyed.

His eyes sparkled like jewels as he gazed upon her. A loving smirk flitted across his face and he shook his head.

“Shhhh....”

He stood, and she rolled over onto her back to make room for him to sit beside her. Eyes the same soft color of her hair followed all his movements. He sat leaning over her, each hand resting at her sides upon the mattress, and drank of her exquisiteness. Her face was bathed in soft golden sunlight, and anticipation swirled in the honeyed pools of her eyes. The air in the room was crisp and fresh, causing her nipples to peak under the thinness of the sheet. She stared up at him, waiting. Her eyes closed as he leaned down and placed a kiss upon her brow.

“Legolas,” she said. Disappointment was clear in her liquid voice.

Her plea was quelled when his lips brushed lightly against hers. She started up in a desperate effort to maintain their brief contact, but he drew away and his hand upon her shoulder pushed her gently back down. She glared at him in frustration, and pouted at her denial.

“Patience, meleth,” he requested. “Patience.”

Her lower lip stuck out even further. The soft flesh beckoned to him and he could not resist leaning down to take that single rose petal within his mouth. He allowed himself a moment to taste her sweetness, to nibble on her pliant flesh, before drawing back slightly again.

“I’ve missed you so, Legolas,” she sighed.

He remained leaning over her, his face just above hers as he searched her eyes deeply with his. She longed for the feel of his skin against hers, but she knew he would only make her wait longer if she gave voice to her need. No doubt he already knew.

“I’ve worried greatly for you, Legolas,” she said. “I’ve feared for your safety.”

He brushed stray strands of soft hair off her forehead. He loathed that they should be separated and that he had caused her fear and worry. Yet even though fear and worry were written upon her features, she was still beautiful.

“I know, meleth,” he replied. “I know.”

She risked bringing a hand up to caress the side of his face. He shied away at first and then leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. Her heart sung as her hand molded around the familiar curve of his cheek.

“I have feared for your safety as well,” he said simply.

He opened his eyes to look upon her once more. A single wet pearl began to form in the corner of one eye. He watched with sadness and regret as it trickled down the side of her face. His thumb trailed after the teardrop.

“Please, meleth,” he beseeched. “Please...do not.”

Her heart began to ache with sadness and joy. His voice still held all its love for her, and it was clear he ached for her too. His bright eyes were drowned in sorrow and enflamed with desire.

“Where are you, Legolas?” she asked.

His eyes darted over her face, trying in vain to settle upon the one feature he would want to remember forever—the satiny spill of her hair, the rich color of her eyes, the soft line of her nose, the fullness of her lips, the delicate points of her ears.

“I am right here,” he answered vaguely.

She looked at him questionably. He leaned down and placed his lips against hers. She kissed him back fervently, opening her mouth in invitation to him. He tasted just like she remembered—of springtime and summer and the fruits they bore. She breathed in his scent—the same wooded pine after a cleansing rain.

“I must know,” she implored as their lips parted.

He withdrew completely and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. He sighed painfully. He did not want to burden her, to worry her further.

“I wish not to speak of it, meleth,” he said, casting up a forlorn look. “You and I are all that exist right now. Nothing else. I wish us to simply enjoy each other’s presence for what time we may have.”

She sat up in the bed and leaned back against the headboard. It was a wonder to her how he could look so impermeable yet so pained in the same instant. She placed her hand gently over his.

“Then I will abide by that wish,” she soothed.

He looked down at their hands, observing how easily their fingers mingled together again. He wanted nothing more than for their entire bodies to do the same.

“You have other wishes as well, Legolas?”

Her question was more a statement of fact. She knew he had other wishes, else he would not be here, and his boots and socks would not be resting just inside her door. She knew his wishes were the same as hers.

“I would abide by these as well,” she told him, leaning towards him.

Her breath tickled his ear as she traced the outline of the other with the fingers of her free hand. He reached up and brought her hand to his mouth, planting a kiss on each fingertip.

“Abide, or fulfill, meleth?” he asked puckishly.

His eyes glinted with mischievous desire as he gazed at her over her fingertips. Shivers coursed up and down her spine as she thought about where his kisses would soon travel. She envisioned him taking her to places she had never been, never even known existed.

“I would do my best to satisfy you, Legolas,” she answered.

He trailed his kisses down to the inside of her wrist and sucked on the warmth of her pulse point there. His need for her rushed through his body just as steadily as the blood rushed through her veins. He brought her hand to the side of his face and pressed her damp wrist to his temple.

“I wish you not to serve me, meleth,” he corrected, fixing his eyes on hers.

She moved closer to him and tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear with her other hand. She loved how he recoiled in pleasure at the lightest touch of her fingers upon his delicate point.

“Who says it is not my destiny to serve you, Legolas?” she asked seductively in his ear. “To let you control me?”

He hated how she could make him recoil in pleasure with the simplest of her touches. Already he could feel the strain of his desire for her against his trousers.

“Must I control you? Would you not have me otherwise?” he asked, feigning dejection.

His body shifted towards her and he gathered her up in a strong embrace. She had never felt so secure in his arms before. Nothing could touch them, nothing would come between them. All that existed was the two of them and their desire for one another.

“I would have you always,” she gave her assurance, though he needed it not. “Tell me, what is your want?”

He released his tight hold on her slightly, and she leaned back from him a ways, supported by his strong arms. He gazed at her face and then down the slender and graceful line of her long neck.

“I want only you,” he told her.

She gasped as his lips seared her neck with passionate kisses. He immediately found her sensitive spot along the side, and teased it with a flick of his tongue before moving off to his personal favorite, the hollow of her throat. He sucked greedily, his tongue swirling around and around.

“And how do you want me?” she asked between panted breaths.

He took in her scent deeply—the rich aromas of lavender and vanilla danced within his nose, raising his desire for her. He wanted her scent all over his body, and his all over hers.

“Exactly how you are,” he answered, pulling away from her momentarily.

It was a melodramatic thing for him to say, she knew, but it still sent a thrilling wave crashing down upon her, and it was exactly how she felt about him. She wanted nothing more than to sing through his body as he sang through hers.

“Then take me,” she bade him.

Joy radiated within him at the look of sheer delight on her face when he said his words to her, and he fought hard not to burst with anticipated excitement at her words to him. He drew himself up to his knees on the bed, and brought her up to kneel before him as well. His finger traced interwoven curves just over the low neckline of her simple nightshift.

“Where?” he asked.

A smile tugged on his succulent lips and stars shimmered upon the surface of his blue pools. She could feel his stiffening member against her belly. It was begging for release, and she was anxious to rid him of his trousers and herself of the shift she wore. She dug her fingers into his firm buttocks, pulling him even closer to her. She swept her tongue along his jaw, then nipped at his earlobe to scold him for his cheekiness.

“Here,” she answered obviously.

He yelped when she bit his ear, then laughed at her answer. She was too easy. He knew he would be reprimanded again for his response, but he cared not. In fact, he was rather looking forward to it. He cupped her face in his hands and nibbled on the full lower lip he liked so much, then dropped his hands down to grasp her hips. He brushed the side of her breasts lightly along the way, just how she liked, which elicited a tremor through her body.

“You are here,” he pointed out. “I am done with the task.”

She pulled away from him and sat back on her heels, glowering at him. She hated how easily he could play her. She had her own methods of playing with him however, and she was not about to be bested.

“You are far from done, my prince.”

He tried not to squirm as she coddled him, her fingers wrapping fully around the rising bulge in his trousers, squeezing gently yet firmly. Really, the squirming made her touch all the more pleasurable. His eyes began to roll back in his head as she applied even more pressure.

“Meleth,” he gasped.

Her own muscles tightened with desire as she watched him squirm under her touch. He was ready for her, rigid and hard, and she was ready for him, wet and hot.

“What?” she cooed. “You wish me to cease?”

He could not hold back the whimper of protest he made when she drew her hand away, and she let out a chime of laughter at him as his pelvis bucked forward in an attempt to maintain the tormenting contact. His want for her was near excruciating, and he hoped his desperation did not show too badly as he began to hastily tug at the lacings of his trousers.

“I wish to assist,” he said huskily.

For the moment, she was content to sit back and watch him as he tried to unlace his trousers. His hastened efforts only managed to tangle the leather ties, and his growing frustration hindered his labors even further. He finally threw up his hands in defeat, the ties now in a taut knot.

“Help,” he entreated.

His cheeks burned. He felt like the fumbling elf of only nine decades all over again. She was laughing at him, at his rush, at his clumsiness. His cheeks burned hot, and so did his desire.

“Nay,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “You are doing fine on your own.”

She enjoyed watching him suffer as his need became more apparent, more urgent. She enjoyed the glowering look he shot her. She enjoyed the crush of his lips hard against hers as he locked her in a deep kiss. She enjoyed the familiar rhythm their hips immediately fell into as they ground against one another, and she enjoyed the feel of his desire as it pushed into her belly.

“’Tis only to your benefit to help me, meleth,” he pointed out after his lips finally released hers.

Though he much enjoyed the feel of her fingers massaging the muscles of his buttocks, he took her hands in his own and placed her lissome fingers upon the lacings of his trousers. He greatly hoped he had pleaded his case to her successfully.

“Hmmmmm...,” she considered, smiling with her eyes. “Not just yet.”

She moved her hands up and over the cool skin of his firm abdomen instead, bringing up his white tunic undershirt. He helped her by untying the woven lacings, rather diligently this time she noted, and pulling the garment off over his head. She ran her hands over his smooth solid chest, then up over his strong shoulders and down his arms.

“Let us make you wait a little longer,” she stated.

The sensation of her hands moving over him sent tingles of pleasure all through him. He found himself unable to object to her decision to keep him corralled for the time being. Her arms crossed over her belly and she pulled her white shift over her head. She wore no undergarments, as was her wont when she slept, and so was exposed fully to him. Confidence oozed from her being as she knelt there before him, allowing him to gaze at her in wonderment.

“Meleth,” he whispered, looking deeply into her eyes.

As if reluctant, his hands moved up from his sides and ghosted a touch on the undersides of her breasts and then up over her taut nipples. She shivered from the cool air feathering over her bare skin and in anticipation of his eager caresses that she knew would come. He cupped both breasts in his hands along the sides and began to rub the aching nubs in gentle circles with his thumbs.

“I fear I am caught in a conundrum, meleth,” he said. “I find myself wishing I had two heads, for I know not which one I want to devour first.”

She sighed deeply and her eyes fluttered as he continued to play with her nipples, now rolling the hard dusky peaks between each thumb and forefinger. Moaning sonorously, she pulled him towards her and crushed her body up against his, engaging him in a wet and fevered kiss. A bolt of lightning shocked through his entire being at the feel of her breasts pressing against his bare chest.

“Legolas,” she gasped out, parting her mouth from his only briefly before diving back in to the passionate kiss.

Her tongue danced with his as they each pushed against and twisted around the other. Her fingers entwined in his long silken hair, and she desperately pulled him toward her, seeking to plunge her tongue deeper into his mouth. His fingers kneaded the flesh of her buttocks, and soon she felt herself being lowered down to lie on the bed. She made a sound of protest as his tongue rammed into hers, driving it out of his mouth. He trailed wet kisses down her jaw and her neck, making only brief stops to suck as he made his way to his ultimate destination.

“Lay still, meleth,” he commanded. “I’ve made up my mind.”

He took the nipple of her right breast into his mouth, running his tongue around and then over the taut flesh. She started beneath him, but he held her down with a firm hand placed upon her belly. He began to suckle her, feeding thirstily on their love and passion for one another. He sucked so hungrily he feared his teeth were cutting marks into her tender flesh, but he worried not that he was hurting her as she quailed and cooed her pleasure.

“Please, Legolas,” she panted. “Please.”

She twisted her hands into the sheets, trying to still the quakes that racked her body because of his attentions. Her breast ached as he sucked on her hard, like a starved pup. That he should desire her, want her, need her so badly.... Tears of pure joy threatened to pour forth. She wanted him, needed him, inside her, filling her up.

“Meleth?” he exclaimed.

He was caught off guard by her sudden powerful move and was shocked to find himself now lying on his back on the bed, his head between her knees. He was disappointed, having just begun to feast on her other breast, but only slightly so, as this new position was one he had not seen her in before. She was bent over him, head down towards his feet, her fingers and teeth working on untying the knots of his trouser lacings. She strayed from her task several times to tease him, rubbing and squeezing and biting at his cock through the material. She was in a rather precarious position to be engaging in such behavior, he thought, and he knew exactly how to get his revenge on her.

“Hasten, meleth!” he urged. “Hasten!”

She stopped dead in her efforts to unknot the delinquent lacings of his trousers and her eyes went wide. One long finger wormed its way through her wet folds and burrowed deep inside her, where it was currently wriggling about. She willed her mind to focus on uncaging his hard desire, but her attempts were all in vain. Her body writhed and her muscles spasmed. Her fingers dug into his thighs.

“I cannot hasten, Legolas,” was all she managed to say through gritted teeth.

She shot him a look through her legs, and he smiled back smugly at her. This view of her was new, amazing—rounded rump up in the air, the slant of her back leading down to her glorious spill of hair, the beauty of her upside-down face framed by slender thighs, his finger disappearing into furry curls. His musings on her enticing form were halted abruptly as her hand snaked inside his tight trousers and constricted around his stiff cock.

“To Mordor with it!” he swore.

He withdrew his finger from inside her and grabbed her around the waist, flipping her onto her back on the bed. In one fluid motion, she watched him lunge to the side and seize the long knife she kept on the nightstand. He stood on the bed towering above her, eyes aflame with love and lust, and cut hastily but carefully through the knotted ties. She helped him by ripping down his trousers, and he kicked them off hurriedly, throwing the knife aside to land on top of the discarded clothing. His rigid cock leapt up with new-found freedom and beads of arousal glistened on the head. He pounced down on her and slid inside.

“At last!” she cried.

Her muscles clenched around his girth as he thrust wildly into her over and over. She wrapped her legs around him tight. All she could do was sound her amazing bliss as she relished in the feel of him moving inside her, filling her up completely, taking her as his.

“Meleth,” he rasped.

He pushed himself farther into her one last time as she voiced her climax. Her back arched up and sent him over the edge as well. He spilled into her as if the River Isen had been dammed for years and had finally been unleashed. He clung to her, riding the wave of passion to its end before placing a tender kiss on her lips and withdrawing.

“Legolas,” she purred.

She snuggled up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist as one of his wrapped around her shoulders. Gazing up at him, she smiled contentedly and nuzzled in a little closer. Her eyes found his, and she knew they would remember this moment in time forever. He took to tracing the outline of her lips once more.

“Meleth,” he whispered.

He savored the feeling of her bare skin against his naked body, for he knew it would not last forever. The vividness of her looks, her voice, her scent, her taste, her touch—all seem to fade and go faint in a single heartbeat. He winced inwardly in anguish but not regret as her naked form blurred. Her voice continued calling desperately out to him, becoming oddly gruff.

“Legolas. Legolas! Wake up, Legolas! ‘Tis time for your watch, Master Elf.”

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Nedh Elei – In Dreams

meleth – love