Beyond Canon
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A few hours later, Elrond opened the door that led to the hallway and peeked around. He was about to sneak to the kitchen to leave a note of apology for Rozalia and to gather a little food, but was pleasantly surprised to see a tray with covered plates sitting on a small trolley right next to his door. He pulled it inside quickly and shut and locked the door behind him.

He brought it into the bedroom and pushed it right up to the bedside. As he lifted the covers, he found that simple food that would not readily spoil was prepared for them. One plate had red and green grapes on it, and another had sweet rolls and honey. The third lid was lifted to reveal the strawberries covered in chocolate. “It looks like Rozalia wanted to be sure we would have something for later. Hopefully, she will not suspect the truth...” Elrond looked up. “Unless of course you hope she does.”

“She seems like a smart lady. She probably knows, or at least suspects.” Gilraen sat up and pulled the sheet with her to allow a little modesty. She plucked one of the strawberries from the tray by the green stem. “This hardly seems the usual fare.” Her green eyes sparkled as she held the chocolate to her lips.

“I may have requested them earlier,” Elrond mumbled, cheeks tinting a slightly rosy color. “Do you like chocolate?”

“And strawberries,” said Gilraen before she bit into the treat. She licked the juice that tried to escape from the berry. “I had them very few times in my life before I came here.”

“You can have them every day now if you like,” said Elrond as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Even in the winter, we have two greenhouses where we produce fresh fruits and vegetables.”

“Are you going to eat?” asked Gilraen when she picked up a fourth berry.

“I will.” His smile widened. “I enjoy watching you.” He brushed her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “You are a very beautiful woman,” he said, hand caressing her cheek.

“Even without pointed ears?” she questioned.

“You know that does not matter to me,” answered Elrond.

Gilraen smiled back, licked the end of the dipped strawberry, and held it up to Elrond’s lips. He bit into it slowly, keeping his eyes focused on Gilraen’s. She pulled it away and ate the remainder of the fruit, watching Elrond the entire time. As she swallowed the last bite, she flicked the stem onto the trolley and leaned forward towards Elrond. The sheet fell to an ivory puddle of fabric in her lap as their lips met in a somewhat sloppy and needful kiss. Elrond’s hands wrapped around Gilraen’s back to pull her closer, then moved around forward where strong fingers squeezed and kneaded pliant breasts.

With an encouraging moan, Gilraen arched her back and tilted her head, eyes closed, throat revealed to Elrond. He lunged at her with his mouth—biting, nipping, kissing, nibbling—from her chin down her neck, her chest, to her nipples, suckling at one and then the other as he kept a firm hold, one hand beneath each of them. Her fingers snuck under the collar of his robe and clawed at his shoulders, down his back, up again.

Elrond let go with one hand in order to give the trolley a shove out of the way while Gilraen reclined on the bed again, the sheet barely covering anything. Elrond reached down and pulled one end of his sash. As soon as it was loose, the robe parted, and a simple roll of his shoulders caused the fabric to slide back over his shoulders and onto the ground. He slowly joined Gilraen on the bed, crawling onto the mattress and over her until he was peering down into her eyes.

Gilraen turned her head to the side, closed her eyes, and parted her lips. The silky sheet still created a barrier between them as Elrond lowered himself down, neck stretching so that his tongue ventured between those parted lips to run along the edge of her teeth before delving in further. The sheet, once threatening to slip away, now clung to them, moisture soaking into it from both sides.

Elrond claimed several more lingering kisses before he leaned back on his haunches. One hand traveled unhurriedly from one of her breasts to the other, where his fingers varied their play, ghosting caresses, needy grabs, and playful pinches and twists that made Gilraen arch, moan, and tighten her thighs. His other hand moved to the moist cloth between them, disappearing into the folds of the fabric, teasing at the flesh just barely veiled from him. Sometimes his fingers danced along the surface, and sometimes, they thrust in deeply, needfully, completely.

He was aroused, had been since he watched her take the first taste of the strawberry, caught sight of her tongue chasing after the dribble of juice. But he was an Elf, and not about to let himself be so overtaken with passion that he would lose himelf prematurely, and he let go of her breast so that he could part her legs further.

The sheet remained in the way, drenched, infused with her scent. He breathed in deeply as he moved the tip of his nose across it, and then his tongue. At first it was a taste, a lick, a lap, and then he pressed forward greedily, hungrily, seemingly starved as he sucked and flicked his tongue around, attempting to drain from her every drop of her essense through the thin barrier, constant reminder that no matter how close they were, there was always something that would keep them apart.

But then, he was also a man, and some situations required less patience than others. He paused to lick his lips and yanked at the sheet. He pulled it down and bowed his head. Gilraen’s hands tangled in his hair to encourage him as his slid around to grab at her thighs, her ass, pull those legs apart further, fingers joining his tongue until he had her half-levitated, whimpering and clinging. He pumped his fingers in a few more times, withdrawing them, slick and warm. Elrond closed his eyes, listened to Gilraen’s ragged breathing, and wrapped his slippery fingers around his erection. He grunted a few times, fist beginning to tighten, legs trembling as he held the semi-upright position. Delicate fingers reached out for his, slid past, and felt about for a moment before beginning to massage his scrotum.

Elrond groaned as he squeezed his fingers a few more times and then looked down at his work. There was a milky puddle between Gilraen’s breasts and several more droplets speckling her skin. As Elrond took hold of the already stained sheet in order to sop up the evidence, he heard someone timidly knock on the main doors of the suite.

“Tell Rozalia she can bring up more strawberries,” mumbled Gilraen after Elrond kissed her and began a search for his robe.

“No.. Rozalia never knocks like that. She kicks at the door.” Elrond wiped his hands, and on second thought, wiped his face. He managed to find the robe, but not the sash, and stumbled out of the bedroom to hear another hesitant knock.

“Coming!” shouted Elrond as he went to the curtains and yanked one of the sashes away from them to use around his robe for the time being. He ducked into the washroom to clean up a little more and run a brush through his hair a few times. Confident that he could fool whomever was at the door into thinking he had just awoken, he strolled through the parlor and unlocked the door.

Melpomaen’s hand was poised to knock again, but it was lowered swiftly. “Good morning, sir. Did you sleep well, sir? We, uh, we—“

“We have an issue,” interrupted Lindir.

“But there is no reason to worry,” insisted his brother swiftly.

Lindir nodded in agreement with Melpomaen. “We have it all taken care of.”

“Except one small issue.”

“Very minor.”

Elrond looked back and forth between them, waiting for the answer. “Well? What is it?”

Simultaneously, the brothers answered, “The Dwarves.”

Elrond squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The what? Dwarves? What Dwarves?”

Lindir held up a report. “We just received a word back from the Summerguard. While they have not seen Glorfindel and Erestor pass through yet, they did spot some travelers.”

“Dwarven travelers.”

The pair nodded.

“On their way to the valley.”

Again, they nodded.

Elrond took a moment to look over his shoulder to the bedroom door and the soft glow of candlelight emanating from within. “That sounds like a task for a seneschal-in-training,” he informed them as he shut and locked the door.
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