11. Chapter 11
The ancient elf leaned toward the Vala. "Is there anything I should know about Vala bindings?" he whispered.
Námo smirked. "The standard Eldar ceremony will do."
"Wait!" Súrelindë suddenly said in a hushed voice. Námo felt a moment of panic before his love continued, "I have no ring for you; and you have no witness!"
"The rings, it seems, have been taken care of by my kinswoman." Námo deposited his ring into the palm of her hands. His beloved closed her fingers around it and said a silent prayer of thanks to the Valar. Just then, a gentle wind blew through the hall. Candles sputtered as the doors to the porch opened. The crowed turned and stood in awe as a willowy being with silver hair, pale ice blue eyes and alabaster skin entered. Círdan bowed low, his people following suite.
"Tôr!" Námo said, leaving his place next to Súrelindë to greet his brother. Turning back, he continued with a rare blinding smile, "It seems my witness is here." Irmo advanced with his brother, a mischievous smile on his face.
"I was beginning to think you would never get around to asking her!" Irmo turned to Súrelindë who quickly dropped to a low curtsy. The Vala of Dreams pulled her into an embrace. "Welcome to the family, gwathel dithen [little sister]." He kissed her forehead.
The shocked peredhel blushed as the cool lips left her brow.
"It is time." Irmo said to Círdan, and the shipwright began, speaking loud and clear. The Master of Dreams took his place beside his brother as Gildor stood by his iell.
A loud cheer rang out as Círdan bid Námo kiss his new wife. The Vala obliged, delivering a kiss that made the innocent bride's toes curl. Descending from the dais, the couple, especially Súrelindë, was swarmed by well-wishers. The blind minstrel felt quite overwhelmed. Suddenly everyone wanted to talk to her, to congratulate her, to inspect her ring.
Námo stood close. When it was clear that his bride became overwhelmed, he intervened and led his love to the dance floor. With a sigh of contentment, Súrelindë let her husband dance her around the floor.
"You are tired," Námo stated.
"Just a bit overwhelmed. Everything happened so fast."
"I am sorry I could not court you properly. When you come to Mandos, things will be different. I will court you then. I am also sorry you did not get to plan your dream binding. I however, wanted your father present and if we waited for me to court you and then planned the ceremony, it would have had to be held in Valinor…without him, for I could not wait till he sailed."
"I have no regrets. There is no need to court me; I already bound myself to you. As for the quick ceremony, thank you for allowing it to be here. I would have missed my Ada if he had not been able to see this," Súrelindë said with a smile. "There is nothing I would change. Even one of your kinsmen came."
"Actually, they all came. Only Irmo choose to reveal himself."
Súrelindë's eyes grew wide and Námo chuckled. His wife's blush caused him to laugh harder.
Súrelindë buried her head in his shoulder. "Are they still here?" her voice was muffled by his robes.
"No, they have returned home."
"When do we…go home?" It sounded odd to her. She never really thought about going to Valinor.
"I will leave tomorrow as things are beginning that will require my presence. You will come by ship when you are ready."
Súrelindë protested. "I am ready now and would leave with you come morning. I do not wish to be separated from you."
I know, melethril, but you cannot come and go as I do. You must come to Valinor first. I will meet you at the dock and take you to my home."
"Our home," she corrected with a smile.
Námo kissed her chastely as the music stopped. "Our home," he repeated. "Come, it is getting late. You are tired. Let us retire."
Súrelindë nodded although her stomach began doing flips. The couple bid good night to friends and family. Námo walked with his arm around his wife's waist. As the neared a split in the hall he stopped. "I assume you would be more comfortable in your rooms?"
Súrelindë shivered. She had never been intimate with anyone before. "I am not sure, I guess so." Her voice quivered. Námo tightened his hold, noticing the uncertainty. Yes, her rooms would be best. When the reached the door, he opened it and allowed her to enter first. She moved about with ease; walking with her measured steps, she moved to the center of her sitting room and waited.
Námo removed his outer robe, draping it over a chair. Before he could say anything, Súrelindë began speaking. "Hîr nín, I know not what to do. I have never…"
"Shh," Námo said softly as he approached her. Taking her hand and kissing it gently, he continued. "There is no need to take so big a step tonight. As you said, everything happened fast. It is not necessary to complete the binding tonight. I would have you comfortable with me first. We can wait until you arrive in Valinor."
"But the bond must be completed. It is my duty as your wife…"
Námo took a breath before he began, "No. It is not a duty. Making love is something you must desire as much as I. I will never demand it of you. I want to share it with you, but only when you are ready."
Súrelindë moved her trembling hands to the silver sash at Námo's waist. "Then I desire to be with you tonight. I want you to teach me how to make love. I want to feel you, know you." Her hands released the simmering material and it fell to the floor. She skimmed her fingers over his chest, memorizing each contour, smiling shyly as she ghosted over hardened nipples and Námo shuddered.
The great Vala felt his passion build. He had to maintain control or he might frighten or hurt his beautiful mate. This was her time to explore him.
Súrelindë let her hands and intuition be her guide. She touched his chest, arms, neck and regal face. She walked behind him, touching his back, shoulders and hair. She realized for the first time just how much taller than she he was, how much bigger, stronger. The peredhel found she desired to be wrapped safe in his embrace. Delicate fingers combed through the thick mass of inky hair; it was cool, like the rest of him and reminded her of a gentle waterfall. Coming back around him, she snaked her hand around his neck and pulled him down for a loving kiss. Letting something inside guide her, Súrelindë's tongue licked at Námo's lips and he opened in invitation. Tentatively, her tongue sought out its counterpart and together they danced, twisting and twining together in a loving embrace. Námo allowed his arms to come around the small waist and roam his wife's back. Námo wanted her so badly, but reigned in his passion; she was in control for now.
Súrelindë's desire grew and with it her courage. Maintaining the kisses, her nimble fingers worked on the buttons securing the front of Námo's under robe. Deftly she undid them one by one, exposing the pale neck. Hot kisses followed the line of newly exposed skin.
Námo sighed with pleasure. Now Súrelindë saw him with hands, lips and…oh, tongue. A moan escaped kiss swollen lips as a hot tongue lapped at the juncture of neck and shoulder.
The young half-elf smiled, happy that her ministrations brought her mate such pleasure. Having unbuttoned the garment to his waist, Súrelindë pushed the silk from Námo's shoulders. Her hungry lips, guided by primal instinct, latched onto a rosy nipple. Námo gasped and threaded his fingers into her silken hair. Lapping and nipping at the bud, Súrelindë busied her hand with the other nipple.
Námo found her touch the most erotic thing he had ever felt. Her touches were gentle and teasing, "seeing' him more thoroughly than any eye could. He never knew such exquisite pleasure. His member throbbed and leaked with desire. Still, he did not move. He said nothing; letting the moans and sighs she pulled from him be her guide.
Gracefully, Súrelindë slid to her knees, her lips leaving a burning trail down the rippled abdomen. Námo let out a gasp was warm fingers skimmed over his hips and around to knead his arse. His young wife nuzzled and kissed the sensitive patch at his thigh. It appeared that the minstrel was gifted in more than just music. For one with little experience in intimacy, Súrelindë seemed to know exactly what to do. The Doomsman of the Valar found himself brought low and needy by the ministrations of the peredhel. Strong legs almost gave way when Námo's ridged member vanished into a moist cavity.
"Aye, melethron," the Vala panted. His body hummed and fire pooled in his stomach; he was close. Súrelindë sensed this and let his member slide from her mouth. Ignoring his mewl of protest, she kissed her way up his body, moving to stand behind him. She pressed her body against his muscled back and reached around him. As shetook his member in hand and began to stroke him opened his eyes and found himself sface to face with their mirror image. He watched through heavy lids as she stroked him. His pleasure fogged mind briefy wondered if Súrelindë was aware that they faced the mirror.
"Forgive me Hîr nín, I am not sure exactly what you desire,but I will do my best to satisfy you." His wife whispered, her breath hot on his back. Námo began to thrust, encouraging her to stroke him faster.
"Aye, bain nin [my beautiful] Súrelindë," Námo choked out as his bodytensed in anticipation, "You have satisfied…oh, aya…yes…more than any oth…" He could speak no more as the most incredible orgasm ripped through him. He dropped his head back, resting it on Súrelindë's shoulder as he rode out the waves of pleasure and regained his breath.
Súrelindë wrapped her arms around the powerful chest, supporting as best she could the strong body. "Was I able to please you? I am sorry I am inexperienced…I mean I know…"
Námo turned in her embrace and kissed her into silence. "You brought me pleasure as I have never felt. I love you and will be content with what ever you are comfortable giving. In all my days, never has anyone brought me to such heights." He kissed her again, this time with more passion. "I would return the pleasure if you would allow it." He watched her closely when she replied.
"I would like that," she answered shyly. Sweeping her up in his arms he moved towards the bedroom.
Námo wanted this to be the most wonderful, loving night of his new bride's life. Setting his precious cargo down next to the bed, the majestic being carefully removed the circlet from Súrelindë's head and set in on the bedside table.
"Would not want anything to happen to that," he said softy, undoing the clips that held her hair. He combed through the soft curls with his long fingers. "You are so beautiful, inside and out. I thank Ilúvatar for you." His breath brushed her cheek and she shivered. Making sure to keep a hand on her at all times, allowing her to know where he was, he moved behind her. He pushed her hair over her shoulder and kissed the nape of her neck.
Súrelindë let her head drop forward to allow better access. She felt his hands at the laces of her gown but the persistent lips on her neck made it hard to focus.
Námo deftly loosed the laces. He pushed the silk down her arms, exposing her upper body to the cool night air. Her body trembled with anticipation, her arms caught in her sleeves, and the gown caught on the curve of her hips. Continuing to kiss her neck and shoulders, Námo's hands came up to cup and kneed her firm breasts. Pressing back against his chest, Súrelindë sighed as heat began to pool in her core. Cool fingers teased the sensitive nubs to hard peaks. One strong hand left its tender mound to travel south, over the plains of her stomach and under the silk of both her gown and undergarments. Súrelindë moaned and arched back wantonly. Námo continued his assault on her neck and ear, while fondling first one and then the other breast, his other hand seeking hidden treasures. He smiled against the warm skin at the pants and gasps, moans and whimpers that the beauty in his arms made. Skilled fingers caressed the mound between her legs; just teasing the hidden nub that Súrelindë so wanted him to touch.
"So warm and welcoming," Námo whispered. His questing finger slipped between her folds, gliding along the slick lips, stroking her clitoris. "And so wet."
Súrelindë could form no coherent thought as pleasure assailed her untried body. She was vaguely aware of Námo's rigid shaft pressing against her backside. She gasped and slid her legs apart when she felt the first finger enter her.
"Saes," Súrelindë begged, though for what she was not sure. "Aye!" she gasped as an incredible pressure built, two fingers now thrusting into her slowly.
"So wanton, so responsive, so mine." Námo nipped at her neck, leaving the mark of his desire.
"Need you…now…oh gods…" Námo smiled at the plea. Loosening the remaining laces, he pushed the gown and undergarment from her body, freeing her arms. Immediately his little bride reached up and fisted her hand in his hair. This caused her body to arch against his. Now they stood skin to skin and Námo's reawakened member throbbed against her backside. Ignoring his own burning desire, he continued to stroke and fondle her. Súrelindë's breathing was ragged and moans and cries of pleasure escaped her parched lips. Finally, her body could take no more and she exploded with desire, her core clenching around Námo's thrusting fingers. She leaned boneless against her lover as she tried to regain control.
Lifting his heart's desire, the Vala carefully set her on the bed. Immediately, she reached out for him. Not wishing to startle her, he climbed on the bed and took her hand, kissing the delicate fingertips. She smiled up at him and caressed his face.
The Vala stretched out next to Súrelindë. He kissed her lips, this time more demanding. Soon the flames of passion were fanned again, and hands and lips began to roam.
"Seas, melethron, I need you," Súrelindë panted, pulling his strong body over hers.
"You do not…" Námo began.
"I know, but I wish to complete the bond. I need to complete it, saes. Now," she begged.
Námo could deny her nothing. Rolling onto his writhing beloved, he settled between her legs. Instantly, the young minstrel wrapped her legs around his narrow waist, locking the Vala in place.
"This may hurt a bit," Námo whispered.
"I know." Súrelindë may have had little experience, but she heard more talk than most thought. She heard the ladies whisper about their experiences.
"I will go slow and be as gentle as I can."
Námo positioned his member at her slick opening and pushed in slowly. He stilled when she gasped at the intrusion. "Relax, mîr nín; breathe deep. It will get better, I promise."
"I know," Súrelindë ground out, willing her body to relax. Námo kissed her gently and when she nodded, he pushed in again, stopping when he was buried to the hilt. Súrelindë sighed, relishing the full feeling. The fire deep inside her however began to build again and demanded release. She pushed up against her husband.
Námo growled possessively. "Impatient."
She responded only by repeating the movement. The Vala chuckled. "Very well." With slow, deliberate thrusts, Námo made love to his soul mate. Though he desired to take it slow, Súrelindë's moans and whispered pleas fanned his inner fire. So he was thrusting in earnest, the supple body below him moving in rhythm. Súrelindë tightened her legs as her orgasm built, pulling the velvety shaft deeper. She cried out in ecstasy for a second time that night. Her quivering passage milked Námo's member dry as he came with her name on his lips.
Námo slid from her warmth and collapsed next to her. He pulled her sated body to him and wrapped his wife in a loving embrace.
Súrelindë snuggled close, barely able to keep awake. "That was incredible," she murmured.
"Indeed." Námo placed a kiss on the crown of her head.
"We are bound. I felt it…in my fëa."
"We are. Now you will never be alone, no matter how far apart we may be. I will sense you, also. It will sustain me until you come to Mandos."
"Must you leave come morning?"
Námo tightened his strong arms about her. "Yes, I must return to my duties. Know this, though: not a moment will pass that you will not be in my thoughts."
Súrelindë smiled against his cool chest. "I will not tarry. There is little to keep me here and I will sail as soon as Círdan can arrange a ship." A yawn escaped her sated body. She felt a silent chuckle rumble in Námo's chest.
"Rest now, meleth. I will be here when you wake."
"Blanket." Súrelindë muttered as she burrowed deeper into his strong arms. With little effort, Námo managed to get them under the soft bedding. The newly bonded couple held each other through the night as each found the most pleasant rest they ever had.
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.