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b2mem2015-03-22 01:26 pm
zopyrus.livejournal.com) wrote in b2mem2015-03-22 01:26 pm
50 Shades of Little Grey Birds Spying on Your Sex Life, by Zopyrus
B2MeM Challenge: Galadriel/Celeborn, het, 50 Shades of Teleporno, sexual content (I hope) ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moetushie
Format: Short Story
Genre: Het
Rating: Mature
Characters: Galadriel, Celeborn, Melian
Pairings: Galadriel/Celeborn
Summary: After a disturbing dream, Galadriel turns to her Telerin lover, Teleporno, for comfort.
~~~
Galadriel woke, as she often did, with the weight of dreams heavy upon her. Shadows from the fireplace flickered against the wall, and, still half asleep, she thought she saw the fluttering shapes of birds in the darkness.
The warmth in her bedchamber was stifling. She threw aside the curtains of her bed and walked to the window, welcoming the cold of the flagstones on her bare feet. Her fingers fumbled with the latch of her window. When she flung it open at last, the winter air rushed in, and she breathed deeply, gasping with relief as the cold air filled her lungs.
There was no moon, and the sky was clear. As she gazed over the white-shrouded fields of Talath Dirnen, Galadriel thought: this is how my land was meant to look. This is what my grandparents saw, before they gave up their birthright forever.
Just as well they renounced it; now it is mine for the claiming.
There was a rustle in the bed behind her, as Teleporno stirred in his sleep. For a moment, distracted, she thought about waking her lover—but a different kind of longing pulled at her, and she turned back to the window.
The stars twinkled above her, cold and bright. Somewhere, far off, a nightingale was singing; and Galadriel stood still as a stone as she listened to the bird spin out its melody, heedless of the wind or the dying flames in the fireplace.
The room around her grew colder, but she did not feel it. The song went on and on. Her senses dimmed, until all she knew was the music of the nightingale, clear and beautiful, and all else was darkness.
Come to me, the nightingale seemed to say. Leave your cares behind, and come.
But then she heard another voice, and hesitated.
“Altáriel.”
It was barely a whisper, as if it came from very far away.
“Alatáriellë. Wake up.”
The window slammed, and the song cut off abruptly.
She was on her knees on the stone floor, naked and shaking with cold. Teleporno’s hands gripped her shoulders.
“Was I dreaming?” she asked, confused. It had not felt like a dream—more like a summons. Was that even possible? “How long—”
“Long enough,” said Teleporno, reproachfully. “You’re freezing.”
The fire was long dead. He took her elbow and guided her gently back to the bed, catching her as she stumbled. He brushed her hair back from her face and wrapped the furs around her.
“What did you see?” he asked softly.
“Nothing. But I heard…”
She could not explain what she had heard. Usually, her dreams came from deep within her, like memories. But the song had come from somewhere else.
“I don’t know what it was,” she admitted, helplessly. “And if it was meant for me, I don’t—I don’t know what I am supposed to do.”
Her lover waited silently as she gathered her thoughts. It was not the first time Teleporno’s strong arms had awakened her from a dream; over the years, he had sat up with her through countless small hours of the night, listening as she haltingly recalled what she had seen, helping her to tease out the meaning of scattered, half-remembered images.
The sight of him calmed her. The memory of her dream had not faded; but Galadriel thought she might know a way to thrust it from her mind.
Teleporno gazed at her, his eyes wide and dark.
“Come here,” said Galadriel, voice cracking slightly. She cringed at the effect: she sounded weak and afraid.
That wouldn’t do.
“No, come to me,” she tried again, and this time she pitched her voice lower, imbuing the words with as much power as she could muster.
Teleporno’s breath hitched. He surged forward.
Her cold mouth melted against his burning lips, and as she kissed him greedily, Teleporno reached under the furs to uncover her body, sliding his hands up against the cool skin of her belly until he was cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing lightly over her taut nipples. He broke their kiss to nuzzle against the curve of her jaw, and then pressed gentle kisses against the column of her throat.
Too gentle. With a low growl, Galadriel pushed against him, raking her nails against his chest and pulling his mind into her own, showing him what she wanted.
“Yes,” she moaned, as he sank his teeth into the flesh just above her collarbone. “Ai, Teleporno!”
His mouth was busy; but his answer echoed in her mind as they moved against each other, a wordless rush of lust and affection. With a little huff of laughter, he pushed her long, shining hair out of both of their faces, smoothing it out over the pillow before he returned his attention to her body.
“Alatáriellë,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. She could hear the smirk in his voice. “Maiden no longer.”
She had barely begun to think of an appropriate retort when he reached down between her legs, thrusting his long fingers into her damp curls. She pushed against his hand with a gasp as Teleporno began to touch her in earnest, his wet fingers circling her clit in ever-quickening strokes.
Belatedly, she remembered her manners and reached for him, too. Her fingers closed gently around his length, and she stroked him, distractedly—but he pushed her hand away.
“Later,” he breathed. “First, let me just—”
His teeth brushed against her throat again, but this time her lover did not linger, mouthing his way down her body until he was settled between her legs, his dark eyes locked adoringly on hers. Impatient, she watched as he moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, his teasing smile infuriating and arousing in equal measure.
At last, he lowered his head. She tangled her hands in his smooth silver hair and closed her eyes, surrendering completely to the touch of his tongue and the pressure of his hands.
Abruptly, she remembered the darkness in her dream, and the music; but it was driven away by her cry of pleasure.
She pulled Teleporno into her arms, murmuring his name.
~~~
Next morning, Galadriel woke to the song of a perfectly ordinary—if unseasonable—nightingale, warbling its heart out on her windowsill. In the bright light of day, the sound was rather pedestrian. Galadriel opened the windowsill, and unwrapped the silken message that was bound around the nightingale’s leg.
Queen Melian of Doriath to Queen Galadriel of the Guarded Plain: My lord Elu Thingol greatly desires the company of his family, and requests that you (and your brothers) might honor him with a visit, for as long as you so desire. Tuilérë, the Equinox, is nearly upon us: will you celebrate the festival with us?
PS. Hope you had a nice night!
Well, she and Melian would certainly have to have a talk about boundaries; but that didn’t change what Galadriel wanted to do.
“Fly back to your Queen,” she told the grey little bird. “My answer is yes.”
~~~
Notes:
0. Thank you totehta and suzll for the beta, you guys are the best!
1. For anyone who is unfamiliar with Unfinished Tales, one of Celeborn’s unpublished backstories is that he was Telerin, not Sindarin. My reasons for preferring this version are shallow, and probably obvious.
2. This is actually an excerpt from a longer, unpublished fic that will eventually, I hope, see the light of day. So if you enjoyed this, stay tuned! :D
moetushie Format: Short Story
Genre: Het
Rating: Mature
Characters: Galadriel, Celeborn, Melian
Pairings: Galadriel/Celeborn
Summary: After a disturbing dream, Galadriel turns to her Telerin lover, Teleporno, for comfort.
~~~
Galadriel woke, as she often did, with the weight of dreams heavy upon her. Shadows from the fireplace flickered against the wall, and, still half asleep, she thought she saw the fluttering shapes of birds in the darkness.
The warmth in her bedchamber was stifling. She threw aside the curtains of her bed and walked to the window, welcoming the cold of the flagstones on her bare feet. Her fingers fumbled with the latch of her window. When she flung it open at last, the winter air rushed in, and she breathed deeply, gasping with relief as the cold air filled her lungs.
There was no moon, and the sky was clear. As she gazed over the white-shrouded fields of Talath Dirnen, Galadriel thought: this is how my land was meant to look. This is what my grandparents saw, before they gave up their birthright forever.
Just as well they renounced it; now it is mine for the claiming.
There was a rustle in the bed behind her, as Teleporno stirred in his sleep. For a moment, distracted, she thought about waking her lover—but a different kind of longing pulled at her, and she turned back to the window.
The stars twinkled above her, cold and bright. Somewhere, far off, a nightingale was singing; and Galadriel stood still as a stone as she listened to the bird spin out its melody, heedless of the wind or the dying flames in the fireplace.
The room around her grew colder, but she did not feel it. The song went on and on. Her senses dimmed, until all she knew was the music of the nightingale, clear and beautiful, and all else was darkness.
Come to me, the nightingale seemed to say. Leave your cares behind, and come.
But then she heard another voice, and hesitated.
“Altáriel.”
It was barely a whisper, as if it came from very far away.
“Alatáriellë. Wake up.”
The window slammed, and the song cut off abruptly.
She was on her knees on the stone floor, naked and shaking with cold. Teleporno’s hands gripped her shoulders.
“Was I dreaming?” she asked, confused. It had not felt like a dream—more like a summons. Was that even possible? “How long—”
“Long enough,” said Teleporno, reproachfully. “You’re freezing.”
The fire was long dead. He took her elbow and guided her gently back to the bed, catching her as she stumbled. He brushed her hair back from her face and wrapped the furs around her.
“What did you see?” he asked softly.
“Nothing. But I heard…”
She could not explain what she had heard. Usually, her dreams came from deep within her, like memories. But the song had come from somewhere else.
“I don’t know what it was,” she admitted, helplessly. “And if it was meant for me, I don’t—I don’t know what I am supposed to do.”
Her lover waited silently as she gathered her thoughts. It was not the first time Teleporno’s strong arms had awakened her from a dream; over the years, he had sat up with her through countless small hours of the night, listening as she haltingly recalled what she had seen, helping her to tease out the meaning of scattered, half-remembered images.
The sight of him calmed her. The memory of her dream had not faded; but Galadriel thought she might know a way to thrust it from her mind.
Teleporno gazed at her, his eyes wide and dark.
“Come here,” said Galadriel, voice cracking slightly. She cringed at the effect: she sounded weak and afraid.
That wouldn’t do.
“No, come to me,” she tried again, and this time she pitched her voice lower, imbuing the words with as much power as she could muster.
Teleporno’s breath hitched. He surged forward.
Her cold mouth melted against his burning lips, and as she kissed him greedily, Teleporno reached under the furs to uncover her body, sliding his hands up against the cool skin of her belly until he was cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing lightly over her taut nipples. He broke their kiss to nuzzle against the curve of her jaw, and then pressed gentle kisses against the column of her throat.
Too gentle. With a low growl, Galadriel pushed against him, raking her nails against his chest and pulling his mind into her own, showing him what she wanted.
“Yes,” she moaned, as he sank his teeth into the flesh just above her collarbone. “Ai, Teleporno!”
His mouth was busy; but his answer echoed in her mind as they moved against each other, a wordless rush of lust and affection. With a little huff of laughter, he pushed her long, shining hair out of both of their faces, smoothing it out over the pillow before he returned his attention to her body.
“Alatáriellë,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. She could hear the smirk in his voice. “Maiden no longer.”
She had barely begun to think of an appropriate retort when he reached down between her legs, thrusting his long fingers into her damp curls. She pushed against his hand with a gasp as Teleporno began to touch her in earnest, his wet fingers circling her clit in ever-quickening strokes.
Belatedly, she remembered her manners and reached for him, too. Her fingers closed gently around his length, and she stroked him, distractedly—but he pushed her hand away.
“Later,” he breathed. “First, let me just—”
His teeth brushed against her throat again, but this time her lover did not linger, mouthing his way down her body until he was settled between her legs, his dark eyes locked adoringly on hers. Impatient, she watched as he moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, his teasing smile infuriating and arousing in equal measure.
At last, he lowered his head. She tangled her hands in his smooth silver hair and closed her eyes, surrendering completely to the touch of his tongue and the pressure of his hands.
Abruptly, she remembered the darkness in her dream, and the music; but it was driven away by her cry of pleasure.
She pulled Teleporno into her arms, murmuring his name.
~~~
Next morning, Galadriel woke to the song of a perfectly ordinary—if unseasonable—nightingale, warbling its heart out on her windowsill. In the bright light of day, the sound was rather pedestrian. Galadriel opened the windowsill, and unwrapped the silken message that was bound around the nightingale’s leg.
Queen Melian of Doriath to Queen Galadriel of the Guarded Plain: My lord Elu Thingol greatly desires the company of his family, and requests that you (and your brothers) might honor him with a visit, for as long as you so desire. Tuilérë, the Equinox, is nearly upon us: will you celebrate the festival with us?
PS. Hope you had a nice night!
Well, she and Melian would certainly have to have a talk about boundaries; but that didn’t change what Galadriel wanted to do.
“Fly back to your Queen,” she told the grey little bird. “My answer is yes.”
~~~
Notes:
0. Thank you to
tehta and suzll for the beta, you guys are the best!1. For anyone who is unfamiliar with Unfinished Tales, one of Celeborn’s unpublished backstories is that he was Telerin, not Sindarin. My reasons for preferring this version are shallow, and probably obvious.
2. This is actually an excerpt from a longer, unpublished fic that will eventually, I hope, see the light of day. So if you enjoyed this, stay tuned! :D