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Nov. 17th, 2012 12:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfwannabeTitle: Until Next We Meet
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings/Tolkien Universe
Characters/Pairings: Galadriel/Celeborn
Summary: Their last night in Lórien together
Warnings: NSFW, fairly non-graphic sex, Overload of married elf feelings
They sat before the fire talking late into the night, until the moon was high in the sky and the wine bottle between them had been emptied. They spoke of what had been and what will be- of joys and sorrows, of shared pains, fears, hopes, and dreams. There were promises and reassurances, things they both knew but still felt need to declare. She would wait for him, though she must leave. And he would come to her, in his own time.
And then there was no more to say.
He was the first to stand, taking her hands and raising her to her feet, pressing his forehead against hers and closing his eyes, just breathing and lingering in the moment. Then, with a firm but gentle hand, he reached up to cup her cheek and catch her lips in a kiss.
His lips were soft against her own and still tasted faintly of wine, his touch as tender as the day they were first wed, and it only worsened the ache in her heart. He had seen her through so much; he had wiped away her tears, soothed her when she could not sleep for fear of what was to come, and together they had brought new life into this world. He was so much more than she deserved and it broke her heart to know that she was breaking his. Yet she could remain here no longer. The sea called her, as it had for so many years, and, at last, she could answer. Old wounds could finally be healed. But here and now she could not help but wonder if she was only creating new ones to take their place. It added an urgency to her kiss, a desperation to her embrace- she did not want to let go. Not just yet. A moment more.
Finally, she stopped, took a breath, and pulled back, placing his hands once again in hers and guiding him towards her as she stepped backwards towards their bed.
"Come." Her voice broke the silence, rich, deep, and warm. It sent shivers up his spine. "Lie with me."
He spoke no answer but followed her without hesitation, pausing to kiss her again when they reached the edge of the mattress. Nimble fingers ran down the bodice of her gown, unlacing it with ease. Dress and shift fell to the floor, his robes following swiftly.
It was hard to say who moved first, if he pushed her forward or she pulled him back. Perhaps they moved as one. It would not have surprised Galadriel. They knew each other as they knew themselves, after all. Regardless, she found herself on her back, looking up at him. She smiled, gliding her fingertips over his collar bone and down his bare chest before pulling him close in another kiss.
They took their time. This was not the eager, hungry lovemaking of young lovers, but the slow, heartfelt act of two life-long partners trying desperately to make each moment last, to memorize each sensation, each sight and sound- the way his fingers curled into her hair, her soft little gasps when he touched her just so, the timbre of his voice when he moaned her name.
Feeling his wife nearing her peak, Celeborn paused to take her hand, interlacing her fingers with his own. But he kept his gaze on her face, relishing in sharing this with her. She was watching his eyes when she came; she fell into his eyes and she brought him with her.
He lay on his back, catching his breath, and she curled up beside him, resting her chin on his shoulder. And so they remained for a long while, silent and still. Galadriel had almost drifted off into sleep when Celeborn finally spoke.
"You will give our daughter my love."
She moved a hand up to stroke his cheek. "I will."
And then there was nothing to do but wait for the morn.
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings/Tolkien Universe
Characters/Pairings: Galadriel/Celeborn
Summary: Their last night in Lórien together
Warnings: NSFW, fairly non-graphic sex, Overload of married elf feelings
They sat before the fire talking late into the night, until the moon was high in the sky and the wine bottle between them had been emptied. They spoke of what had been and what will be- of joys and sorrows, of shared pains, fears, hopes, and dreams. There were promises and reassurances, things they both knew but still felt need to declare. She would wait for him, though she must leave. And he would come to her, in his own time.
And then there was no more to say.
He was the first to stand, taking her hands and raising her to her feet, pressing his forehead against hers and closing his eyes, just breathing and lingering in the moment. Then, with a firm but gentle hand, he reached up to cup her cheek and catch her lips in a kiss.
His lips were soft against her own and still tasted faintly of wine, his touch as tender as the day they were first wed, and it only worsened the ache in her heart. He had seen her through so much; he had wiped away her tears, soothed her when she could not sleep for fear of what was to come, and together they had brought new life into this world. He was so much more than she deserved and it broke her heart to know that she was breaking his. Yet she could remain here no longer. The sea called her, as it had for so many years, and, at last, she could answer. Old wounds could finally be healed. But here and now she could not help but wonder if she was only creating new ones to take their place. It added an urgency to her kiss, a desperation to her embrace- she did not want to let go. Not just yet. A moment more.
Finally, she stopped, took a breath, and pulled back, placing his hands once again in hers and guiding him towards her as she stepped backwards towards their bed.
"Come." Her voice broke the silence, rich, deep, and warm. It sent shivers up his spine. "Lie with me."
He spoke no answer but followed her without hesitation, pausing to kiss her again when they reached the edge of the mattress. Nimble fingers ran down the bodice of her gown, unlacing it with ease. Dress and shift fell to the floor, his robes following swiftly.
It was hard to say who moved first, if he pushed her forward or she pulled him back. Perhaps they moved as one. It would not have surprised Galadriel. They knew each other as they knew themselves, after all. Regardless, she found herself on her back, looking up at him. She smiled, gliding her fingertips over his collar bone and down his bare chest before pulling him close in another kiss.
They took their time. This was not the eager, hungry lovemaking of young lovers, but the slow, heartfelt act of two life-long partners trying desperately to make each moment last, to memorize each sensation, each sight and sound- the way his fingers curled into her hair, her soft little gasps when he touched her just so, the timbre of his voice when he moaned her name.
Feeling his wife nearing her peak, Celeborn paused to take her hand, interlacing her fingers with his own. But he kept his gaze on her face, relishing in sharing this with her. She was watching his eyes when she came; she fell into his eyes and she brought him with her.
He lay on his back, catching his breath, and she curled up beside him, resting her chin on his shoulder. And so they remained for a long while, silent and still. Galadriel had almost drifted off into sleep when Celeborn finally spoke.
"You will give our daughter my love."
She moved a hand up to stroke his cheek. "I will."
And then there was nothing to do but wait for the morn.