Night
Magic
By Rhapsody
Contact Email:
rhapsody74@gmail.com
Betas:
Rating: R
Main Characters: Eöl & Aredhel; Lómion (Maeglin)/Aearwen
Written For: Marina (Aearwen)
Request: Eöl & Aredhel, their first night after he lured her to his
house; Maeglin/me
Word Count: 3277
Aearwen = Sindarin for sea-maiden but also the name of the requestee
of this story.
Lómion: 'Son of Twilight', the Quenya name that Aredhel gave to Maeglin.
Itarillë (or Itarildë ) is the Quenya name of Idril which was the
Sindarized form.
Pairing or Character Request = , Things you should try to include =
rated R, their first night after Eol lured Aredhel to his house...
Things you should NOT include = incest Ratings to use = R and up!
*Special Notes: The person you have pulled is named Aearwen (one of her
pairings requests herself).
Author’s foreword: This is written for my friend Aearwen, a great
person who I just wish to give her anything: the moon, the stars, all
the happiness in the world. Thank you for your friendship.
My name is Aearwen, begotten by my parents during the big journey
West when they tried to follow their Lord Elwë. My mother gave birth to
me shortly before we could pass the mountains, much to my father’s
sadness, still too far away from the sea. This was something my father
longed to see after our Lord Elwë returned to us with his tales of
splendour from the other realm. My father wanted my name to mirror his
hope that one day I would fulfil his promise and as a reminder to
himself that we might linger now, but we still would be set to reach the
shores of Aman. Often he told me that my fragile voice, gaining more in
power as both my parents became used to the setting of the sun, filled
him what with that hope. My family lingered with Lord Elmo for a while
before my father decided to journey across the mountains after he heard
that our King dwelled there.
During our journey, we passed the boundaries of Nan Elmoth, woods
renowned for their legacy of love and enchantments, which had been set
upon Lord Elwë and the Maiar Melian. It was a fair day, just like the
one that recently passed, when I wandered between the trees, listening
to the old magic woven there, and I never left for I found my home and
my destiny to become a silversmith one day. Where once Elu Thingol and
Melian dwelled, now lived our fair lord Eöl and he accepted my presence,
giving me my own tasks amongst his apprentices. Once I sent word to my
parents in Doriath, my father met me on the border of his realm and the
river kept us apart. There we conversed quietly and even though he was
saddened at first, he more than ever understood that I should claim my
own destiny instead of fulfilling his.
Eöl was an honest lord who excelled in mastering his craft and did
anything in his power to protect us and keep us happy; yet, he was not
content himself and on days when that surfaced, we learnt to walk on our
toes, simply giving him that which he asked. Many yens passed, until the
day came that our sheltered lives changed drastically.
Aredhel Ar-Feiniel was her name and we rejoiced in accepting her as a
new Lady of our own, yet she would not yield easily to our lord. There
was pride mirrored in her eyes and she carried herself with a dignity of
splendour my father once related to me when he told Lord Elwë’s
descriptions to me. Our lord’s eyes were fixed on her and for the first
time in many yens we saw something we never thought him capable of
possessing: blind love. We all heard of tales of outside the realm when
conversing with the Dwarves, but we knew that our lord’s compassion for
us was held fast, but calculated. His reign was a firm one, but it all
gave us something to depend on every day. This evening, as the needle
dives into the tunic I am repairing, I remember the evening when I
watched the feverish body on my bed, remembering the resemblance in his
royal features and remember the day when he claimed her as his wife.
The day had been unusually warm; we all had sought shelter under the
thick leaves, only to come alive during the evening and busied ourselves
with our tasks. Aredhel was happy here, she told me so the day before
when I gifted her with a basket of berries. We all had noticed the
stolen glances between the two of them, but Aredhel seemed to wait for
something. Just like my father waited for my mother to move on to the
West. I have heard about the difficulties of the exiles and often I
wondered if they ever were permitted to journey across the ocean as Elwë
once did. My parents did leave the safety of Doriath behind them to make
this dream come true, just as I journeyed after them once I saw what
fulfilment I saw happening in front of my eyes. I knew that something
like that was waiting for me as well.
I remember how I asked myself those questions when I nursed the
dark-haired stranger that stumbled into my life. I recall whispering to
him if he knew the answer and why he came to my place, which I found
deserted after so many years of travelling. Eöl and Aredhel gone: my
fellow smiths moved on to other places where they could perform their
arts. It felt strange wandering around here, finding the house and
smithies abandoned. I remember so many great events, but the grandest of
which I recall so vividly was what I saw just as I turned left on the
clearing that would lead me to a field with blueberry bushes, I saw
them.
Eöl held her in his arms and much to my joy: they shared a kiss. The
intimacy between them grew rapidly and it was my lord who divested his
tunic the first. A gasp escaped me as I watched how the rays of the
sinking sun gave his hair this auburn glance. Aredhel accepted him
willingly in her embrace and I simply could not avert my eyes, being
completely spellbound.
Once both broke off the kiss, Eöl first divested her of her gown and
while he gently placed it beside them, he looked up in my direction and
our eyes met. ‘Be my witness,’ his eyes seemed to tell me, but it was
his command in them and so I obeyed. My lips ran dry when her naked
bosom was revealed to him for his reaction to it made me wish to be in
her stead. My lord caressed her breasts in tender strokes, but increased
his movements, and soon her nipples stood erect while his strong hands
squeezed them. Aredhel turned her face in my direction with a hoarse cry
as he bent in and suckled on her now erect nipples. Even if the White
Lady was aware of my presence: she did not object and so I became a
silent witness to their union. Their dance of bonding was sheer beauty:
after he admired her breasts, his lips wandered downwards to her belly
and her hips.
Aredhel encouraged his wandering lips by burying her hands in his
hair and I could hear how she encouraged him to give her the stars and
the moon, but he gave her much more. I often wondered how it would be,
to be totally loved by someone who worships someone like Eöl admired
Aredhel that day. I heard often of finding love and a mate to marry, but
I never expected that it could be so intense. With this question in my
mind, to find love again, I first considered seeking answers with my
parents, but wherever I journeyed, I learnt too late that they did set
sail for the Valinor. I was confronted back then with the decision to
follow them or find my own way. I did choose the latter because their
decision made me realise that I needed to find my own path as Eöl and
Aredhel did that day. Which I did and I conquered my own destiny.
How could this be? How could fate turn into one’s own favour so
rapidly? I wondered when Eöl, now fully naked, knelt between Aredhel’s
thighs and placed his strong hands under her legs. In full benediction,
he lowered his lips between the apex of her thighs and tasted her while
she promised him all she could give. His face often disappeared from my
sight, leaving Aredhel to show me what she asked for the most: a sweet
release given in complete surrender to him. It surely must have been
intense for I felt the heat building up inside me and my legs started to
quiver. Neither did I want to leave them, so I sank down against an oak
tree, watching how Eöl showed his love his erection, I quivered in
anticipation, but Aredhel’s sweet voice had now turned husky: her pride
shining through as she encouraged him to make their bond complete. And
so he did.
As of that day I pondered how a dance so ancient: the melting of
those two bodies could create a bond of fear so strong between them.
Where at first she willingly accepted him between her thighs, they
continued their coupling as he lifted her on his rod, securing her hips
while she could feel free. I could only wish to be in her place: to
experience that exquisite feeling as she sank down on him and started to
ride him in the same way on the day she entered the woods. Their hands
laced as Eöl sang to them in the tongue I was raised in and which I
recall still. Thusly I sat there, in the woods and feeling just as hot
and bothered during the night with the stranger on my bed.
Often I wondered why he found this place, as it seemed to be so far
off route whence he came from. Later when he told me more, I was in
wonder how this could have happened. There was something about this
stranger who lay still on my bed while fever coursed through his body.
His hair was wet and damp with sweat, sticking to his skin while he
fought whatever haunted him in his unconsciousness, yet the way he lay
there reminded me of the final moments between that magical moment of
the two lovers in the woods. Aredhel’s hands joined with his and both
threw their heads backwards while utterly coarse cries stated their
happiness and bliss. Sometimes, during my journey throughout Beleriand,
I often tried to mimic their emotions, my hands wandered off to my
private parts often as they did that evening as well. I knew I had to
leave the stranger soon before he started to hear my abandoned cries as
well. I did know that I could not withstand staying there any longer and
I saw to it that I cooled his forehead with a wet cloth.
“I have to go, but I will be back.” I whispered to him, fully aware
that he could not hear me.
“No you shan’t.” His arm seized my hand and carried much more
strength than I imagined. “I watched you next to me while you were
daydreaming.”
I tried to hide my embarrassment: what more has he seen?
“I can smell you and I am wondering how you will taste,” the stranger
propped himself up and enchanted me with his eyes. “Stay.”
Whatever madness seized me, I could not tell. It felt as if time was
frozen while my body battled against reason, but soon even reason told
me that he might be the one I had been looking for all these years.
Still he waited for me, was he the sanest one of the two of us?
Nay, I told myself that I would not deny myself this pleasure. I
thought, for who knows if this has been written in the stars all along.
That I, Aearwen, was destined to return here to realise that I would be
bound to Nan Elmoth since the day I crossed its borders. Just as he had
today.
“Do you want to taste me or is there more you desire?” I asked him
while I placed the wet cloth in the bowl.
“I want all of it.” The stranger answered in a feverish delirium. “I
want these hauntings to be replaced by something more solid. My name is
Lómion, fair lady.”
“I wish you bliss. I, Aearwen, wish you to be freed of your hauntings,”
I whispered to him.
“And I shall receive it.”
A shiver of anticipation passed through me when he spoke to me. The
tension between us felt almost palpable and I sat down on the bed next
to him. It felt so natural to me: two bodies touching each other
self-consciously, as if our own inner feär asked this to happen. My soul
sang and my fingers reached the laces of my dress, but he brushed them
away. I heard a growl coming from him when he stumbled upon my chemise
and I stood up to let the dress fall at my feet. A fire so wild burnt in
his eyes while my trembling fingers tried to unfasten those fragile
ties. A shiver crawled over my skin as I heard how a growl built up in
his throat once my chemise was loosened enough to have it divested.
His movements were fast and I nearly jumped when his hands touched my
skin to frame my waist. I did not hesitate when he pulled me close, but
I nearly lost myself when his lips tasted my skin. Lómion twirled his
tongue over my stomach, licking and kissing his way down until he
reached my throbbing centre to nuzzle his nose there for a moment. I
could not move, frozen by my desires for more.
“Lay down.” He simply commanded me and slowly I sank down on the
mattress while I wondered what spell he had cast on me. Then I
remembered, I remembered the thrall of Eöl and Aredhel. How both
surrendered themselves to their moment of being united. Would mine, no,
ours be so different? Lómion held me close: his body radiated heat and I
wanted to see his eyes that confined me up in his spell. As I turned my
head, I felt his lips on me, tender and yet urgent. What else could I do
than to kiss him back and I parted my lips slightly for this handsome
elf. We held each other close as our tongues whirled around each other:
he challenged me and I answered. Ever so slowly he kissed me while his
hands roamed over my body. I wanted so much more and he knew it.
His hands parted my legs and even though I felt a moment of
hesitation, I did not want to retreat now. Yet, there was a moment of
silence and I could not feel him near. Just as I wanted to see where he
was, he returned to me, now fully undressed while the candlelight
illuminated his marred body with a golden glow. His body however was so
warm that I relished in the contact we made; his hands parted my legs as
he slid upwards to my inner fire. I wondered if this would be the moment
where he would let me soar to the heights as Aredhel did that day. Soon
I forgot about it once his fingers found their way to my inner core,
parting them slightly for my first intrusion by his skilled hands. All
memories forsook me while Lómion filled my mind with new ones: his
fingers stretching me as he moved in and out, his thumb played its
wicked game and I started to soar on the wings of what I discovered to
be the zenith of my desires. I floated while he carried me, whispered
words of passion to me: how beautiful his Itarillë was to him and how I
belonged to him.
“Take me,” I whispered to him and his dark eyes found me, “make me
yours forever, please.”
Just as I spoke my wish, he loomed above me, resting on his strong
arms while he watched my face and bent in to kiss my lips. As I parted
my lips for him, he impaled me on his hardness in one move, causing me
to break away and gasp in surprise.
“You are mine,” I heard him whisper in my ears as I sensed how he
stretched me: while my passion rose, he rose deep inside me, “this is
our moment, our destiny, Itarillë, and our child shall be our testimony.
None shall take you.”
Tears started to course down my face as I adjusted myself to his
fierce lovemaking and I followed every soft-spoken command he issued.
When he withdrew, I followed him and offered my body to him once more as
I rested on my hands and knees. If I thought to lie under him was the
deepest pleasure, I was mistaken as he filled me again, and his
movements increased as our breathing became shallow. I tried to talk as
we gave into each other and managed to say: “I want to ride you.”
“Later,” his hoarse reply came and his hand left my hip to grasp my
breast.
At a certain moment, I could not tell where he ended and I began. I
felt how his mind touched the outer edges of my mind and I let him slip
in. There he conjured our dream, but instead of the dark woods, there
were white walls and our child ran around freely.
“Do you want this?” he spoke to me as his other hand left my hips as
well, his thumb flickered across my small fire again. As I exploded into
the pinnacle of my wanton, our feär mingled into a glorious climax,
where before I had felt my mind being confounded by my body as he thrust
deep inside me, it now seemed endless. Yet it created a delicious
euphoria we only would share for the rest of our lives. I knew that in
the eyes of Iluvatar, I became his wife and consort. No experience could
have prepared me for this and I knew I found my place at Lómion’s side
until the end of Arda.
Just as my senses slowly started to register where I was, I realised
I lay on my back while my husband looked down on me.
“The night is ours and I believe you wanted to take another ride,” he
spoke to me with a mischievous sparkle. And so I did. I wanted to learn
everything as if I thought we only had this night. The night magic we
created and continued to make fulfilled every fantasy or thought I could
ever imagine. Even more so, what I saw that evening happening between
Eöl and Aredhel seemed nothing compared to the bond we forged. I knew I
would carry his child and I started to dream, as I took him inside me
many times over, how my life would be drastically changed as of this
evening. He continued to name me Itarillë over and over again, a token
of his love to me as he fisted my dark hair as I rode him with all the
fury I had buried inside of me.
We fell asleep exhausted from our lovemaking at the crack of dawn, I
nestled myself into the crook of his neck while I wondered if the
feverish drops on his skin came from our wild love play or that he still
was not hale.
Lómion remained with me for days, which we mostly spent inside our
room and he taught me many passionate movements and actions. Up until
the day he left, I realised that something else haunted him as if he had
a task to complete. I could not ask him to stay as long if this longing,
which drove me away from Nan Elmoth as well, would not be quenched. Our
parting was passionate and asked him to return as swiftly as I could to
enjoy more years together in the bond that crafted. Still as of this
day, as I sit here working on the clothing of our child, my heart wishes
that my husband would be returned to me swiftly, Iluvatar willing.
