3. A Dark Fire Lit
Unable to help himself Elrond leaned over to touch the Uruk’s thick forearm. His fine fingers stood pale against the dark skin.
Uglúk looked round to meet the eyes of the Elf.
In one face, everything of beauty, of lightness, of joy, the eyes full with the wisdom of many years.
The other, born in darkness, knowing but pain and hate, the torment of a few brutal years his only life knowledge.
And yet, as Elrond looked on that face, that ruined mockery of Elven beauty, it seemed to him that from the depths of those embittered eyes, amid the awful fatalism, there shone an unexpected nobility.
Fixated, he felt himself powerless as never before. Slowly, almost without realising, he lifted a hand and traced his fingers over the dreadful features. The broad, high forehead, the heavy brow, the hewn cheekbones, and the baleful mouth.
Uglúk growled low in his throat, but the sound was one of pleasure.
Moving closer, the Elf-Lord took the great head between both of his hands. Fascinated, he ran his fingertips over it, lightly stroking the eyes, touching the strangely familiar ears, and pushing his fingers through the dark, neglected hair. His breath quickened, eyes dilated. Some part of him cried out with reason, but he pushed it aside.
The Uruk groaned aloud, and reaching out his strong arms, wrapped them around the Elf and pulled him close.
For a long moment they stayed thus, eye to eye, body to body. Each searching the depths of the other, the opposite, the antithesis to himself. Then Uglúk raised a hand, his fingers solid but gentle, and touched Elrond’s elegant face.
“So beautiful,” he crooned, stroking the long dark hair away from the Elf-Lord’s face, and down his naked back.
Elrond gave a deep moan, eyes closing, his sculptured lips parting with pleasure, and Uglúk bent forward to steal a taste. That taboo tongue lit a dark fire in the Elf, spreading, consuming him, and he lifted his perfect mouth again, hungry with desire. The flawed lips and tainted teeth of the other mouth pressed down upon his, insistent, and he welcomed the invasion. Abandoning himself to the Uruk’s greater strength, he surrendered his body to the powerful arms and felt himself lowered gently to the floor. Ardent hands brushed over him, caressing his shoulders, chest, loins; stoking the heat in him. He writhed, gasping with pleasure, wrapping one long leg about Uglúk’s powerful thighs, his long fingers exploring the curves and clefts of the other body.
The Uruk’s eyes devoured the Elf-Lord’s exquisite form, the silken skin, the delicate ears, the perfect limbs, and the face……a rumble rose again from his throat as he bent his mouth, and pressed his body, once more to that font of beauty.
Gasping, Elrond found himself almost beyond endurance, and turning, he pressed his supple back against that mighty chest, one arm flung carelessly above his head, the other reaching urgently to grip Uglúk’s mighty thigh.
The Elf-lord’s invitation was unmistakeable, and the Uruk did not hesitate to accept. Together, they shuddered, and as the pleasure built, Elrond dug his fingers hard into the other’s leg, while Uglúk lowered his dreadful teeth to the Elf’s marble shoulder. Above their heads their hands interlocked. The dark, heavy hand of the Orc, and the long, fine fingers of the Elf, clutching together in pleasure, and then slowly softening with release.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.