On a Clear Night

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An elfin warden takes his toll from promising lips.
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It was a clear night, the full moon rising high in a brilliantly starlit sky. It was the 7th hour of Glorophin’s uneasy watch, but there was nothing to be found. There generally wasn’t any disturbances this far East of Lothlorien, but he stood his watch faithfully as he had for a thousand years, perched on a tree limb, his keen gray eyes scanning the distance. He reached into his pack, and found the flask he kept there of the strong elf brew, and took a long draught against the dryness in his throat. A soft voice like the falling of leaves reached his sensitive ears; somebody was singing, nearby. He looked down from his perch, and spied an elf maiden strolling along the path beneath him, gathering yarrow by moonlight, singing an old song of unrequited desire. Glorophin’s eyes flashed hungrily as he took in her silken red hair, her smooth curves beneath the thin linen gown she wore, her large, almond shaped eyes, whose color he could not discern in moonlight at a distance. Never taking his eyes off her, he reached into his pack and drew forth a gleaming silver coin in his long fingers, tossing it onto the path before her. She drew back, her song stopping abruptly, casting about for the source of the seeming ghostly gift. Glorophin dropped soundlessly from the treebranch, and straightened, graceful as a cat, behind her. Her back stiffened as he pursed his sensuous lips and blew warm air over the back of her pointed ears. She turned quickly, and he caught her up in his arms.

“Well, hello, my lady,” he drawled in bemused tones, “what brings you so far from home on a night like this?”

Her wide eyes were brilliant green, even in the moonlight. She gasped, “I… I’m gathering yarrow for me mother… Who are you?”

“I am Glorophin Fingolfin, Guardsman of the Eastern wood… and who might you be, my pretty lass?”

“Raswen Silvenfen…”

“Indeed, Raswen, you have trespassed in my wood, and you’ll not be leaving without paying the price for your wickedness.”

She smiled, bemused, “Oh truly, now? And what would be the price for my transgression, Lord Glorophin?”

“First, a kiss, my lady… then, if you show no sign of repentance, I may require more of thee.” With this, he pressed his lips against hers, and she melted willingly into his arms. His fingers stroked through her silken hair, loosening the braids that held it. The basket of herbs she had been gathering dropped by the side of the path as her hands came up along his shoulders. She was breathless as he parted from the kiss, holding her close against him. He cast his piercing gray gaze into her green eyes as she came around. “Well, my lady, do you admit to your sin?”

“Indeed… I admit I trespassed in your ward… as for my repentance, I’m afraid I am just not that sorry for it!”

Glorophin grinned wickedly, drew his cloak around her shapely shoulders, and swept her feet out from beneath her, guiding her gently down to the ferny undergrowth by the side of the road. Her laugh was like running water, and he covered her lips again in another burning kiss. She ran her delicate hands over his back, through his golden hair, and gave him a purely unrepentant grin. Glorophin purred in her ear, “I see more punishment may be in order here for such a remorseless creature!”

Her eyes widened as she felt his long-fingered hands slide up along her bare thighs, pulling her dress along with them, exposing her bare belly and sex to the cool night air. He cocked a finely arched eyebrow at her bareness, and she had the grace to blush prettily. “I certainly did not think to be apprehended whilst out herb gathering…”

He curled his lip viciously, pinching the tender flesh of her thigh and eliciting a gasp from his prey. With a soft chuckle at her discomfiture, he bent his head to kiss her neck, his hair brushing her shoulder. She sighed with pleasure. In the soft dappled shadows of the trees in the moonlight, her skin appeared luminous, of alabaster clarity, and Glorophin lavished her in kisses all over her body, pulling the thin linen shift free of her easily. He ran a callused finger across her exposed nipple, watching it harden, and flicked his warm tongue over it. When she arched her back with a gasp, he slipped a hand behind the small of her back to steady her, nipping the flesh of her breast with his sharp teeth. She struggled briefly in his embrace, but he was much stronger than she, having a soldier’s training, and she was left to writhe with pleasure in his grip as he sucked on her nipples, his tongue tasting the flesh. “Ahhhh… sweet,” he whispered against her skin, and reached up into the surrounding flora, plucking a fragrant bloom of delicate violet. He traced the flower across her skin, along her breasts, down her belly, tickling the soft mound of her sex tantalizingly. Her breathing quickened, and a soft moan escaped her parted lips as he followed the flower with his own lips and burning tongue within the downy cleft there. He hooked his muscular arms under her legs and nuzzled down to pleasure her with tongue and lips and warm breath.

“Ah!” she cried, “Ah yes, my Lord!” Her fingers twined in his long, spun gold hair, and she panted breathlessly. His arms tightened around her waist as her back arched, her cries becoming desperate. He drew back, just short of bringing her climax, and pulled himself up along her bare body. “You…” she panted, “you are still much too clothed for this …ah… punishment, my lord…”

“Indeed,” he chuckled, softly, and kissed her mouth. Her deft fingers untied his tunic, and she pulled it off over his head. He reached down himself, and loosened his leather breeches. A small smile of interest crossed her face as she felt his intention pressed against her thigh. She kissed his bare chest tenderly, breathing warmly on his skin, running her hands over his lean, muscular body, her desire evident. Licking her lips invitingly, she pressed her breasts against his chest, her nails light on his shoulders.

“Do you want me, little one?” he breathed into her ear, grinding his lean hips against her.

“Gods, yes,” she whispered breathlessly.

Glorophin grabbed her shoulders roughly and plunged deep into her with a growl. She submitted willingly, matching his thrusts with her hips, clutching him close in her need. Their breaths came faster, soft cries of pleasure turning to agonized howls of desire as they moved together, their sweat slick bodies sliding sensuously over one another. He thrust harder, faster into her softly yielding body, growling deep in his throat, his gray eyes feral, almost cruel. She pleaded with her green eyes for release… and found herself suddenly over an edge she hadn’t realized she was so close to, screaming with rapture. His low howl of release complimented and harmonized with her cry, and they collapsed in a heap in each other’s arms.

Glorophin kissed her face, tender now, almost loving, and tucked the violet blossom behind her delicately pointed ear. “Remember me, Raswen…”

“I could not forget thee, Lord Glorophin Fingolfen,” she whispered.

Dressed at last, Raswen smiled defiantly at her lover, “Perhaps I might come back sometime… and trespass your stake again?”

“It gets lonely out here, my lady… I will be here…”

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