Categories > Books > Lord of the Rings
An Arranged Marriage
3 reviews"Do not despair, King of the Humans," Galadriel said, "we came here for a wedding, and a wedding there shall be..."
1OOC
Twenty years. He still could not believe it; it had started out so badly.
He had taken a fancy for Legolas the first time he met him, but he had never intended to do something about it. After all he was engaged to Arwen, even if it was against the will of her father, and he would not be able to marry her until he would reach his destiny, it would well be worth the wait.
Therefore, he had repressed his feelings for the beautiful Wood Elf and tried to build a friendship with him instead, which had worked quite well. It had been difficult though, especially when Legolas had joined the mission to destroy the One Ring and they had been in close company for a long time. His repressed feelings reared their head more than he would like to admit, and it did make him somewhat more grouchy and melancholy than was his nature. The rest of the company did not know this though, and seemed to think it was the many responsibilities he bore that were weighing on him.
He had been ecstatically happy when all had gone to plan - more or less - and he had been crowned King of Gondor. Soon after, Mithrandir and he had found a young shoot from the White Tree and planted it within his garden, and the Elves arrived to celebrate his wedding.
Arwen was not among them. Anger flashed in his eyes as he looked at Elrond, believing him to have forbidden his daughter to marry a human and forsake her immortality, and while she no longer was his heart's desire, he did not like the insult. He was soon enlightened of the truth though when the impressive Half-Elf passed him a letter, written by Arwen. In it, she explained her reasons to renounce her promises, and while he found them shallow and inconsiderate, he could hardly say so - the lady Evenstar was not there, she had fled to the Undying Lands.
"Do not despair, King of the Humans," Galadriel said, "we came here for a wedding, and a wedding there shall be. We, the Rulers of the Elvin Realms, have conferred over this matter, and decided it would be best if you did marry an Elf even if it was not the one you had in mind. Do not fear, it is not one below you, nor is it someone you dislike. Legolas Thranduilion, step forward, and meet your husband to be."
His head swam, but he clearly saw Legolas' blank expression. How could this be - how dared they? Who gave them the right to lock him into a marriage with one that did not desire him? Oh, he knew that Kings often married for reasons of state, but never did he dream he would be one of them. The worst part of this was not that this was a loveless marriage, no, that would have been bearable; they would have managed to build on their existing friendship. What made this truly unbearable was that he did feel for Legolas - but, from the Wood Elf's stony expression, those feelings clearly were not returned.
If he had not known the entire race would soon be leaving, he would have started a war against them there and then. As it was, there was nothing he could do, so he gritted his teeth, and endured the whole charade as graciously as he could. Legolas tried to speak to him several times in the days leading to their wedding, but he refused every time, refusing curtly and hiding behind the many duties he had to his new people.
He did throw the jewel Arwen gave him into one of the city's cesspools though.
Not a living soul had remained in the city of Minas Tirith, it seemed. Their new King was marrying an Elf, now that was something to be seen, a once in a lifetime event, something to tell your children's children; and so they swarmed out of their houses, and flocked to the street he and his Elf would walk, cheering as loud as they could and waving hastily made banners and flowering branches.
The words of the promise they made to each other at their wedding were touching, he was sure, but tasted like sand in his mouth. They did seem to move everybody who witnessed them nevertheless - pity he could not feel the same.
The following banquet was sumptuous and lengthy, and he hated every minute of it. His friends came to him and Legolas, offering congratulations, and he forced himself to respond gracefully. Others came, people he hardly knew or had never met, wishing him well in their turn, in a tedious procession. He would have been happy when the feast ended, had he not dreaded what followed.
When he had thought about his wedding night before, he had wished for a night of passion, but he guessed that was out of the question now. He loved Legolas, and had wanted him for a long time now. He also assumed his feelings were not returned, and that whatever they would end up to do, it would not have the same meaning for Legolas as it did for him. Still, he fully intended to have the attractive Elf, the one thing he never had expected to happen.
Thoughtful servants had draped two nightshirts over the foot of his - now their - bed. He undressed efficiently, and was about to pick up one of them when he saw Legolas in bed, already naked; and clearly intending to stay that way. He could not help but smile; his husband obviously had no more intention to stay chaste this night than he did. He jumped into bed, and decisively reached out to the beautiful Elf next to him.
He somehow had assumed Legolas to be more ... feminine than himself, based on his slender figure and hairless face. While he never had made love to a male before, he had somehow expected to be the one to take the Elf, despite only having indistinct ideas about the technicalities of said taking. The reaction to his light touch came as quite a surprise. As soon as his fingertips touched the smooth skin of his husband, he was pushed back on his back. Legolas' hands were roaming freely over his body, skilfully seeking out the most sensitive spots, and soon he was lost in a sensual haze.
Before he fully realised what was happening, his legs were wide open and Legolas was kneeling in between them and rubbing some sort of oil into his anus. It felt surprisingly good, and instead of the objections he had wanted to voice, he moaned his husband's name. A slippery finger easily slid inside of him, soon joined by another, gently stretching the tight muscle, preparing him for the Elf's slender cock.
He screamed as Legolas took his virginity, the piercing pain overcoming the pleasure he had been feeling up to now. He struggled to move away from the pain he was feeling, tried to push out the cruel invader, but Legolas easily overcame him, pinning him down securely, pushing in further, until he was fully inside.
The burning subsided somewhat as Legolas waited a while, giving him a short time to adapt. It returned when the Elf started to move again, but before long he neglected that, as Legolas touched something deep inside of him that made him feel a jolt of pleasure. He managed to utter a groggy "wha..." before it happened again, and again, and he no longer had any words left. Soon he was moaning with pleasure again, and writhing against his husband to invite more of those wonderful thrusts, wanting to experience that breathtaking feeling over and over again.
It did not last long enough by far before he reached his climax, and felt Legolas reach his, and then a great sadness overcame him. Here he was, completely fulfilled by the one he loved, while that precious beloved one had experienced nothing of the kind - just the completion of his marital duties. Restraint weakened by his recent orgasm, he cried silently. Not silently enough, obviously, because Legolas noticed it, and wanted to know the reason of his sadness.
He started stuttering an apology, haltingly explaining the reasons of his distress, but was soon interrupted by Legolas' silvery laughter. Surprised, he struggled to sit up and take a closer look at his husband - was it cruelty that caused him to ridicule the admission of his feelings? But no, Legolas' face did not express cruelty, or disdain, he was radiating true happiness. Was it possible at all? Were his feelings returned? His head swam, and he found it difficult to understand what Legolas was saying at first. When he finally realised that yes, his husband did love him, had loved him for a long time now, but had believed his love to be unrequited just as he had, he too laughed at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
The happiness he had felt that very moment had never completely left him or his beloved Legolas, and at times it soared; leaving him wanting, needing to confirm their love through the touch of their bodies.
Times such as now. He reached for his husband, faking a mixture of shyness and determination...
He had taken a fancy for Legolas the first time he met him, but he had never intended to do something about it. After all he was engaged to Arwen, even if it was against the will of her father, and he would not be able to marry her until he would reach his destiny, it would well be worth the wait.
Therefore, he had repressed his feelings for the beautiful Wood Elf and tried to build a friendship with him instead, which had worked quite well. It had been difficult though, especially when Legolas had joined the mission to destroy the One Ring and they had been in close company for a long time. His repressed feelings reared their head more than he would like to admit, and it did make him somewhat more grouchy and melancholy than was his nature. The rest of the company did not know this though, and seemed to think it was the many responsibilities he bore that were weighing on him.
He had been ecstatically happy when all had gone to plan - more or less - and he had been crowned King of Gondor. Soon after, Mithrandir and he had found a young shoot from the White Tree and planted it within his garden, and the Elves arrived to celebrate his wedding.
Arwen was not among them. Anger flashed in his eyes as he looked at Elrond, believing him to have forbidden his daughter to marry a human and forsake her immortality, and while she no longer was his heart's desire, he did not like the insult. He was soon enlightened of the truth though when the impressive Half-Elf passed him a letter, written by Arwen. In it, she explained her reasons to renounce her promises, and while he found them shallow and inconsiderate, he could hardly say so - the lady Evenstar was not there, she had fled to the Undying Lands.
"Do not despair, King of the Humans," Galadriel said, "we came here for a wedding, and a wedding there shall be. We, the Rulers of the Elvin Realms, have conferred over this matter, and decided it would be best if you did marry an Elf even if it was not the one you had in mind. Do not fear, it is not one below you, nor is it someone you dislike. Legolas Thranduilion, step forward, and meet your husband to be."
His head swam, but he clearly saw Legolas' blank expression. How could this be - how dared they? Who gave them the right to lock him into a marriage with one that did not desire him? Oh, he knew that Kings often married for reasons of state, but never did he dream he would be one of them. The worst part of this was not that this was a loveless marriage, no, that would have been bearable; they would have managed to build on their existing friendship. What made this truly unbearable was that he did feel for Legolas - but, from the Wood Elf's stony expression, those feelings clearly were not returned.
If he had not known the entire race would soon be leaving, he would have started a war against them there and then. As it was, there was nothing he could do, so he gritted his teeth, and endured the whole charade as graciously as he could. Legolas tried to speak to him several times in the days leading to their wedding, but he refused every time, refusing curtly and hiding behind the many duties he had to his new people.
He did throw the jewel Arwen gave him into one of the city's cesspools though.
Not a living soul had remained in the city of Minas Tirith, it seemed. Their new King was marrying an Elf, now that was something to be seen, a once in a lifetime event, something to tell your children's children; and so they swarmed out of their houses, and flocked to the street he and his Elf would walk, cheering as loud as they could and waving hastily made banners and flowering branches.
The words of the promise they made to each other at their wedding were touching, he was sure, but tasted like sand in his mouth. They did seem to move everybody who witnessed them nevertheless - pity he could not feel the same.
The following banquet was sumptuous and lengthy, and he hated every minute of it. His friends came to him and Legolas, offering congratulations, and he forced himself to respond gracefully. Others came, people he hardly knew or had never met, wishing him well in their turn, in a tedious procession. He would have been happy when the feast ended, had he not dreaded what followed.
When he had thought about his wedding night before, he had wished for a night of passion, but he guessed that was out of the question now. He loved Legolas, and had wanted him for a long time now. He also assumed his feelings were not returned, and that whatever they would end up to do, it would not have the same meaning for Legolas as it did for him. Still, he fully intended to have the attractive Elf, the one thing he never had expected to happen.
Thoughtful servants had draped two nightshirts over the foot of his - now their - bed. He undressed efficiently, and was about to pick up one of them when he saw Legolas in bed, already naked; and clearly intending to stay that way. He could not help but smile; his husband obviously had no more intention to stay chaste this night than he did. He jumped into bed, and decisively reached out to the beautiful Elf next to him.
He somehow had assumed Legolas to be more ... feminine than himself, based on his slender figure and hairless face. While he never had made love to a male before, he had somehow expected to be the one to take the Elf, despite only having indistinct ideas about the technicalities of said taking. The reaction to his light touch came as quite a surprise. As soon as his fingertips touched the smooth skin of his husband, he was pushed back on his back. Legolas' hands were roaming freely over his body, skilfully seeking out the most sensitive spots, and soon he was lost in a sensual haze.
Before he fully realised what was happening, his legs were wide open and Legolas was kneeling in between them and rubbing some sort of oil into his anus. It felt surprisingly good, and instead of the objections he had wanted to voice, he moaned his husband's name. A slippery finger easily slid inside of him, soon joined by another, gently stretching the tight muscle, preparing him for the Elf's slender cock.
He screamed as Legolas took his virginity, the piercing pain overcoming the pleasure he had been feeling up to now. He struggled to move away from the pain he was feeling, tried to push out the cruel invader, but Legolas easily overcame him, pinning him down securely, pushing in further, until he was fully inside.
The burning subsided somewhat as Legolas waited a while, giving him a short time to adapt. It returned when the Elf started to move again, but before long he neglected that, as Legolas touched something deep inside of him that made him feel a jolt of pleasure. He managed to utter a groggy "wha..." before it happened again, and again, and he no longer had any words left. Soon he was moaning with pleasure again, and writhing against his husband to invite more of those wonderful thrusts, wanting to experience that breathtaking feeling over and over again.
It did not last long enough by far before he reached his climax, and felt Legolas reach his, and then a great sadness overcame him. Here he was, completely fulfilled by the one he loved, while that precious beloved one had experienced nothing of the kind - just the completion of his marital duties. Restraint weakened by his recent orgasm, he cried silently. Not silently enough, obviously, because Legolas noticed it, and wanted to know the reason of his sadness.
He started stuttering an apology, haltingly explaining the reasons of his distress, but was soon interrupted by Legolas' silvery laughter. Surprised, he struggled to sit up and take a closer look at his husband - was it cruelty that caused him to ridicule the admission of his feelings? But no, Legolas' face did not express cruelty, or disdain, he was radiating true happiness. Was it possible at all? Were his feelings returned? His head swam, and he found it difficult to understand what Legolas was saying at first. When he finally realised that yes, his husband did love him, had loved him for a long time now, but had believed his love to be unrequited just as he had, he too laughed at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
The happiness he had felt that very moment had never completely left him or his beloved Legolas, and at times it soared; leaving him wanting, needing to confirm their love through the touch of their bodies.
Times such as now. He reached for his husband, faking a mixture of shyness and determination...
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