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Celeborn sighed as the rain outside his window continued to pour down in sheets. It was the first rainstorm that Lothlórien had had in one hundred years, and it was not a very welcome change. A sudden powerful gust of wind blew the window upon, spraying droplets of rain inside the study. Celeborn strode over and closed the window securely, cursing softly as he saw that his ancient texts had been soaked by the onslaught.

He closed his eyes a moment, one hand resting on the Sindarin scrolls, and listened to the howling of the wind outside. “A day that only Melkor could enjoy,” he sighed to himself. A soft knock sounded at his door, startling the elf lord, and he withdrew his hand and straightened himself.

“Enter,” he commanded, and the door opened and the one whom interrupted his peace stepped inside the room. Celeborn immediately recognized his Marchwarden. “Haldir,” Celeborn greeted the soaked elf, “please come in, you look dreadful!”

“Much obliged,” Haldir returned as he walked up to his lord near the window and removed his drenched tunic, tossing it aside, revealing his tight jerkin. He then ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to untangle the knots caused by the offending moisture outside.

“So, you came, even in this horrid weather,” Celeborn said lightly, and Haldir bowed his head. “I always come when needed, my lord.” Celeborn smiled wickedly when Haldir’s eyes were not him. “I hope to think so, Haldir.”

“Pardon?” The Guardian looked up only to start when he saw that his lord’s eyes were now alive with something distinct, something deadly…lust. “My lord?” Haldir tried again, swallowing hard. In response, Celeborn smiled slightly and brought up his hand, lightly trailing his fingertips over Haldir’s cheek and jawbone. Haldir flinched away, horrified.

“What do you mean by this?” he demanded, his voice not above a strained whisper. Celeborn refused to answer and, with a predatory grin, he put his hands up again to grip behind Haldir’s neck and scalp and brought the startled elf’s body forward, pressing him against the elf lord.

Haldir cried out in protest, but Celeborn crushed his lips on the younger elf’s, muffling the offending noises. Haldir struggled, but the lord held him securely, one hand behind his neck and the other planted firmly in the middle of his back. Celeborn slid his tongue along Haldir’s lips, demanding entry.

Remembering that his hands were free, he pushed against Celeborn’s chest roughly with his palms, attempting to throw the elf lord off balance, but it had not effect and caused Celeborn to hold him even closer. Haldir gasped in disgust when his thigh was brought in contact with the elder elf’s searing erection.

Grinning wickedly, Celeborn moved the hand on Haldir’s back down, and painfully squeezed one of the rounded, shapely buttocks, eliciting a cry of pain from Haldir. Taking advantage of the outburst, Celeborn pushed his tongue between the Marchwarden’s open, full lips and fervently explored his mouth, slinking against Haldir’s own silky tongue and the roof of his hot cave.

Blind with rage and disgust that Celeborn had penetrated him, Haldir bit down, hard, on the violating tongue that engorged him. Celeborn pulled back, screaming, blood streaming down his chin. He let go of Haldir in his shock, but Haldir found that he could not leave. Of course, he wanted to flee more than anything, and run deep into the Golden Wood and hide, rainstorm or not.

But deep down, intense fear replaced his desire of flight. After all, he had injured his lord, an action that had never been committed on the elder, especially not from a fellow Galadhrim. “My lord,” Haldir said softly, surprised to find his voice thick with concern, “are you alright?”

It wasn’t the best question. Celeborn had stopped screaming, one hand over his mouth, hot blood slowly seeping between his fingers. In response, the lord groaned, his eyes closed tightly. Without thinking, Haldir slowly advanced toward Celeborn and rested his hand on the elder’s shoulder. “My lord, I am terribly sorry,” Haldir whispered, and he felt anger boil up in him when he apologized. After all, he should not be the one that was sorry. Celeborn had brought this upon himself in the most appalling manner.

A moment passed before the lord straightened himself and lowered his hand, the blood now drying and caked on his fingers and chin. He did not look at Haldir, and without a word he strode over to his washroom. Haldir stood silently, heart hammering in his chest, his head light as he listened to running water and soft splashes as Celeborn cleaned his face. The taste of his lord’s blood was strong in his mouth…a chilling reminder of the unwanted intimacy. Why had Celeborn done this? He had betrayed his Lady…

Celeborn stepped out of the washroom, sighing. Haldir looked at him, and Celeborn returned the gaze. The blood was now gone, but the gleam in his eyes was not. The corners of Celeborn’s mouth twitched into a half-grin, and he said huskily, “You were always so feisty.” With that said, he advanced on the Guardian again.

Horrified, Haldir made for the door, but Celeborn was closer and jumped out in front of him, blocking his way. “Let me go!” Haldir screamed as the elf lord painfully gripped both of his wrists captive, struggling violently but to no avail. “My lord, please, what ails you?” Ignoring his pleas, Celeborn took out the struggling elf’s legs with his heel, and Haldir fell onto his back, Celeborn going down with him but never weakening his hold.

The elder quickly pinned his thighs against Haldir’s own, assuring the younger elf’s security as he took the Marchwarden’s wrists tightly in one hand and brought them above Haldir’s head. Celeborn then swiftly removed his belt and tied it around the pale, slender wrists, finally securing the end of the belt to the sturdy leg of the wooden desk behind the Galadhrim.

“Saes,” Haldir cried softly, his voice shaking. He no longer felt humiliated, but terrified. What was his own lord going to do to him? Sensing the younger elf’s distress, Celeborn leaned down and used his now free hands to stroke his face, fingers exploring his smooth skin. Celeborn mercilessly traced the ridge of one of Haldir’s ears with his fingertips; the mere butterfly-light touch setting off sparks of pleasure in the Guardian’s belly.

Celeborn lowered his face to Haldir’s and brushed his moist lips against the other elf’s, his injured tongue darting at Haldir’s lips, now filled with blood at the contact and consequently ruby red in colour, planting soft kisses against the corners of his mouth. Celeborn trailed light kisses, up, up, to Haldir’s ear, his tongue sliding along the ridge, stroking the sensitive tip and grazing it gently between his teeth, eliciting a powerless moan from the body beneath him.

Celeborn immediately pulled away to look at the Guardian, grinning widely at his accomplishment. “What a beautiful sound,” Celeborn whispered, leaning down again to lick at the full lips that tempted him, “I hope to hear it again…and I will.” Haldir shuddered at this promise and flinched when his lord opened his jerkin (he would much rather remove it, but Haldir’s captive arms prevented him from doing so) and moved his hands over the searing flesh of his sculpted abdomen and broad, smooth chest.

Haldir whimpered in his throat, his eyes closed tightly, not wanting to open them and witness that triumphant grin on his lord’s face. His whimper turned into a shout when he felt Celeborn’s lips close over one nipple, moving his tongue on it and biting gently, drawing the teat up tightly under his ministrations, and moved to the other repeating the process, his wandering hands moving down to the hard bulge in Haldir’s leggings. He began to stroke it lightly, torturously, making Haldir thrash beneath him in agony.

Celeborn lifted his head and looked at Haldir, the Guard’s eyes now open and wide, dilated and dark as night. Celeborn was not smiling; instead, he looked quite serious, and that unnerved Haldir with great unease. “Pen-neth, lirimaer,” he sighed, resting his hand against a hot cheek, stroking his thumb over Haldir’s lips. The elf lord’s gaze was heavy with insatiable lust, his meaning clear when he slowly glided his hips over the guard’s, their erections making fierce contact.

“Saes,” Haldir begged almost silently, a tear running down his cheek. Celeborn felt the moisture on his hand and smiled almost sincerely. “Do not be afraid, beriadir,” he whispered, kissing the droplet away and once more moved his hand down to where a hidden treasure longed to be free, cupping it, squeezing gently. Haldir moaned loudly and bucked his hips, his erection becoming more painful by the minute, longing release.

Celeborn suddenly sat up and swiftly removed his tunic, throwing it aside carelessly, his pale, strong torso revealed as he wore no jerkin, and began to work on his leggings. Petrified, Haldir could not help but watch as Celeborn finally removed them and presented his weeping column to the younger elf. The lord looked down at the Guardian and smiled wickedly. “Impressed?” he mused. When Haldir did not respond, Celeborn went to work on the lacings of the guard’s tight leggings. “Let’s see what you have to offer,” he said huskily, drunken with lust and desire.

Haldir clenched his jaw as he prayed for someone, anyone, preferably the Lady, to suddenly stride into the room, and pull Celeborn off of him, to end this nightmare. But it seemed that Ilúvatar was off-duty that dreary, stormy night, and he gasped as the evidence of his arousal suddenly sprang forth. Celeborn cast aside Haldir’s boots and leggings, and his eyes widened at the sight before him.

“Well, I am most certainly impressed,” he said finally, tracing his fingers along Haldir’s aching length. Haldir groaned and automatically thrust up his hips at the contact, and Celeborn grinned at his eagerness. “Patience, my warrior, patience,” he cooed, and Haldir’s face flushed. He could not believe that, after all Celeborn had done to him, he would submit so easily. It shamed him, and he hated himself for it. How could he take pleasure out of this violation?

As if answering his mental question, Celeborn flicked out his tongue to tease the sensitive slit on the head of the Marchwarden’s penis, lapping up the crystal droplets that oozed from the tiny opening, eliciting a loud gasp of helpless pleasure from Haldir. He cried out in defeat when Celeborn took his long, thick member into his watering mouth, the elf lord’s tongue working the length of his shaft, stroking the smooth, hard skin and abusing the weeping slit.

Haldir pushed his hips up again, driving his length further into his lord’s mouth and throat, almost to the hilt, moaning loudly and throwing his head back, longing for his hands to be free so that he may thread his fingers through the elder’s fair, silver hair.

Celeborn began to suck on him hard, his mouth moving up and down, teeth lightly grazing the jerking length, raping the hard flesh with his tongue. With a free hand, Celeborn paid homage to the twin plump sacs that resided beneath, both tight as they filled with semen, gently squeezing the satiny skin between his fingers. Haldir’s moans were like music to his ears, and it was a continuous melody. He began to wonder how long it had been since Haldir had had this much attention.

The elf lord moved up again, encasing the head and sucking with great need, tongue stroking the weeping opening, swiping at it voraciously, lapping up Haldir’s pearly need, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his slender body. He screamed and thrust up once more, spending long rivers of his seed down Celeborn’s throat, and the elder swallowed eagerly to the last drop.

Haldir let his head fall back, panting, his eyes closed and sweat-slicked chest rising quickly. He whimpered slightly as the lord’s inviting mouth left his flagging length, desiring that lovely warmth. He lifted his hips again, trying to seek out contact, but all he felt were Celeborn’s swollen lips on his kissing him gently.

This time, Haldir opened his mouth eagerly and Celeborn cautiously slid his tongue inside, hungrily seeking out Haldir’s. The Guardian moved his tongue against his lord’s, tasting himself in Celeborn’s mouth, and he sighed in contentment as the two muscles entwined each other like courting snakes. They kissed for a moment, Haldir’s shame and Celeborn’s lust replaced with true passion.

Celeborn was the one who broke the kiss, and Haldir looked up at him pleadingly. Celeborn smiled at him and cupped his tear-stained face in his hands. “Like I said before, my beautiful warrior, patience,” he whispered tenderly. With that, he moved down to lick a trail along Haldir’s jaw and down his throat, feeling the younger elf’s steady pulse beneath his tongue, kissing and grazing his bobbing Adam’s apple. The elf lord continued his journey down the buff chest and abdomen, briefly darting at the indentation in his belly before reaching the soft dusting of hair at the base of his penis.

Assuming that Celeborn was going to take him in his mouth again, Haldir groaned in protest and frustration, lifting his buttocks off the floor and opening his legs. He would not tolerate being taken orally again; he wanted so much more than that. Celeborn smiled at Haldir’s apparent eagerness, a good sign for the lord, for not twenty minutes ago the Guardian wanted nothing to do with him.

“You have been very good, my Guardian…well, with the obvious exception of my injury,” he said quietly, stroking a soft inner thigh and kissing it tenderly. “But I forgive you,” he added, looking Haldir in the eye, “and I am willing to take you, take your beautiful body and make you writhe in pleasure, to make you scream my name as you spend yourself again, and I in you.”

Haldir gasped lightly at this sudden change of tone, but he found it undeniably erotic, and arousing. Already the blood began to pool into his flaccid penis, slowly filling it, aching for friction to assist its growth. “Then by the Valar, take me,” Haldir groaned, “I cannot stand to wait any longer. Saes, pen-vaelui...”

Without another word, Celeborn hooked his hands behind Haldir’s raised knees and pushed the long, smooth legs back, until the Marchwarden’s knees nearly touched his ears. Holding one hand under one leg and moving the other leg to rest on his shoulder, Celeborn used his spare hand to lightly brush a finger across Haldir’s puckered entrance and then pushed into the tight ring of muscle.

The Guard gasped at the intrusion and struggled to move his hips, trying to take the lord in further. There was no need to, for Celeborn continued to push into Haldir’s entrance, stroking the velvet walls of his hot, tight channel. A second finger was added, and Celeborn began to gently stretch Haldir, pushing in and out of him, questing for that hidden gland that causes all defenses to crumble. Celeborn tried a third finger, groaning as Haldir’s muscles clamped tightly around his digits.

Celeborn leaned forward to kiss the Guardian tenderly, to get him to relax, and slowly his muscles loosened enough for Celeborn to move inside him again. After a moment of prodding, his fingers found that special gland, that sweet spot that caused Haldir to arch his back gracefully and moan deep in his chest, and like magic the muscles in his channel relaxed completely. Celeborn withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his aching member, immediately thrusting into the dark entrance of the younger elf’s body.

The sudden forced entry ripped a cry of pain from Haldir’s throat, and he bit back hot tears. “It is alright, pen-neth,” Celeborn cooed, now moving slowly back and forth, each slight thrust bringing his member in closer to the hilt. Haldir’s pain was replaced with growing pleasure as he adjusted to his lord’s length. He moaned softly and closed his eyes, savouring the feel of the hard cock moving within him, feeling its strong pulse tickle his insides.

When he was convinced that Haldir had adjusted to his length, Celeborn began to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming more rough and fervent. The Galadhrim lord started to move his free hand on Haldir’s length, quickly bringing it back to an erect state and timing his movements in rhythm with his thrusts. The tip of Haldir’s penis made contact with the elf lord’s belly with every thrust, the friction causing it to jerk violently in Celeborn’s closed fist, closer and closer to completion. Haldir suddenly screamed in defeat when Celeborn finally hit his prostate, his back arching perfectly at the contact, his swollen cock jumping in anticipation.

“Celeborn…” The elf lord’s eyes widened in surprise when he heard the Guard finally moan his name, and it went straight to his heart, and his sex. He thrust even harder, striking the hidden gland again, wrenching another scream from Haldir as that single thrust became his undoing. His pearly seed spilled over Celeborn’s hand as he cried out his lord’s name once more.

Celeborn’s length jerked at the intensity of Haldir’s release and his cries, and with a desperate shout, rivers of his own seed shot deep inside the silver-haired Marchwarden. Spending himself completely, Celeborn collapsed full-length against Haldir, both elves struggling to catch their breaths. A moment passed and Celeborn withdrew his softening length from Haldir’s body and reached over, untying the belt from the Guard’s wrists and the desk.

He then pulled Haldir close, resting his head on the smooth chest, listening to the younger elf’s heart beat slower and slower with every controlled breath. They stayed that way for a while, not speaking, Haldir threading his hands through his lord’s hair and Celeborn lounging against him.

“I must go,” Haldir said finally, and Celeborn lifted his head to look at him, blinking. “So soon?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. “I’m sorry, my lord, but I cannot return the affection you gave me,” Haldir explained softly, “For I do not feel that way toward you. My heart belongs to another.”

Celeborn nodded solemnly, not showing a hint of anger or sadness. “As does mine,” he said quietly, and sat up, allowing Haldir to stand and gather his strewn-about clothes. “I made a mistake asking you to come here,” Celeborn confessed, watching as the younger elf adjusted his jerkin and pulled on his leggings, “and I feel regret for tricking you, using you for my pleasure.”

When Haldir gave no response and did not look at him, Celeborn stood and moved closer to the Guardian, forgetting for a moment that he was still naked. “I suppose it would be ridiculous to ask for your forgiveness,” he said, and Haldir finally looked up at him, his gray eyes clouded with mixed emotions. “Of course you are forgiven,” he whispered, reaching out to lightly stroke Celeborn’s face, “but I shall remain dead to your affections.”

“Of course,” Celeborn responded simply, taking Haldir’s hand in his and kissing it. “Farewell, my Guardian, and hold your heart true to the one you love.” Haldir looked at him a moment, bowed his head, and then strode out of the door without a second glance.

After the younger elf had disappeared, Celeborn leaned against the desk and let out a shaky sigh, resting his head in his hands. Outside, the wind had died down, and the rain had let up. It will be another beautiful day.
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