[identity profile] cbpotts.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] lotr_sesa
Title: Inspiration
Pairing: Gimli/Legolas
Rating: R-light
Warnings: Tending toward sweetness
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not his plot




***

"What's so important, Sam?" Frodo asked, his voice closer to a whine than was perhaps fitting the bearer of the Ring, although his loyal gardener would never have told him that. "I'm tired. I need to sleep."

"You need to see this." Sam's voice was low, intense, insistent. "Three times I've seen it, and I've not been able to think of aught else."

"What?" Frodo leaned forward. Sam was easily excitable, true -- the lure of Rivendale had helped his feet cover many a mile, speeding his steps. But this need, this urging, this compulsion...it was quite unlike him.

The journey had taught Frodo many things, thus far. Every step away from the Shire delivered its own lesson. But one lesson he'd already known: that he could absolutely, positively trust Sam's judgement.

That knowledge was enough to get him out of the bedroll, past the edge of the fire and, moving ever so slowly, behind the slow warm river murmur of Boromir and Aragorn, talking together as they kept watch.

***

"The little ones," Boromir said. "Frodo, I think, and Sam." He half rose from his seat. "They're going..."

"Hold," Aragorn said, reaching up and grabbing Boromir's forearm. "They're not going far, and no harm will come to them."

Boromir cocked an ash-gold eyebrow. "Is this some Ranger magic, that you can see their future?"

Aragorn smiled. "Merely the ears of a man," he said. "Not as sensitive as a Hobbit's, perhaps. Surely not as sharp as those of Good Sam. But I can hear their passage, and I know their trail will be a short one."

***

The journey was not long, indeed: the passage from fireside to the secluded knot at the base of a tree the smallest fraction of the distance small furred feet had already covered. The roots of the tree curved along the ground, creating a hollow just large enough for two small bodies to stand.

If they stood on tip toe, they could peer over the top of the knot into the hollow on the other side. The grassy, sloping hollow, that was completely and totally not empty.

"That's Legolas!" Frodo hissed, grabbing Sam's arm. "And Gimli!"

"I know!" Sam hissed back. "Be quiet! It gets better!"

***

"You fought well today," Gimli said. He was seated on the ground, short legs spread wide, elbows propped against the slight rise of the earth behind him. His leggings were beside him, piled haphazardly atop his boots. "For such a pretty creature."

"Pretty creatures," Legolas replied, long hair hanging free, "can be deadly." He bowed his head, slowing tracing his tongue along the length of Gimli's cock, taking an eternity to traverse the distance from the soft furred balls at the base to the heavy, bulbous crown.

"You're sure to kill me if you keep that up," Gimli said, letting thick fingers rest atop Legolas' head. "I'm sure that's your intention."

There was no answer, save a thinning of a smile, a swallow of swollen flesh. Gimli likewise was silent, his eyes closed against the starry night. Bared feet flattened against the earth as stocky, columnar legs bent, a cradle of furred flesh surrounding Legolas' head.

***

"I can't see when he does that," Sam protested, only half under his breath. "I want to see..."

***

Gimli smiled, without moving his head. He let his leg drop, thick fingers pulling heavy blond hair away from Legolas' cheek.

"We've an audience," he murmured, low, in the way only Dwarves can. This is the language of stones, old, eternal, impossible to ignore -- if you are old enough and wise enough to hear it.

Legolas heard, his motions becoming more feline, more graceful, drawing more from art than need. Lips moved slowly, releasing trapped flesh inch by shuddering inch, until only the very crown of Gimli's cock rested against the pale curve of Legolas' lower lip.

His eyes rose to meet Gimli's, a knowing smile dancing between the pair of them.

And then Legolas turned, for just the shortest of seconds, toward the knoll, before swallowing Gimli's length again.

"Sweet standing stones," Gimli growled, settling into the embrace. "I do have to fight tomorrow, you know."

***

"He saw us! He saw us!" Sam collapsed into a heap of mortification, barely supported by Frodo's arms. "He looked right over and saw us, Mr. Frodo, I know he did."

"I know he did, Sam." Frodo's eyes were shining, bright blue in the moonlight. "And I think he meant us to see him."

"But why, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo thought long on this, his grip on Sam slackening not one bit through the contemplation. "Perhaps they would have us see, Sam, so we might know what may be."

Sam's blush was not invisible, even in the night's wan light. "Do you think so?" He looked down for a moment, before meeting Frodo's gaze most intently. "Because I thought that same thing."

"Let's see if we might watch them again," Frodo said, turning to peer over the embankment.

Sam's hand fell heavy on his shoulder, pulling him back. "I've seen enough, Mr. Frodo. I know what to do."

***



Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy!

Date: 2008-12-24 10:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wdnsdyschld.livejournal.com
Whew! What a way to wake up on Christmas Eve! Lovely, lovely lovely, thank you so much!!!!!!!!!!

I'm not going to be able to get the mental image of this out of my head for the rest of the day and my co-workers are going to wonder why I'm grinning like a fool, LOL!

Date: 2009-01-02 04:31 am (UTC)
ext_1611: Isis statue (Default)
From: [identity profile] isiscolo.livejournal.com
Eeee, this is lovely! And not just Legolas/Gimli (mmm!) but implied Frodo/Sam, and, dare I infer a tiny bit of Boromir/Aragorn? La la la. Anyway, beautifully done in tasty little snippets.

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