Conversaton Held in a Small Antechamber, A: 1. 1/1

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1. 1/1

“Legolas . . . “


“Yes, my friend?”


“I never really noticed before, but . . . “


“What?”


“It’s so big. I’m kind of surprised it fits between your legs like that.”


“Ah. Yes, it is impressive, do you not think so?”


“Hm.”


“And let me see your . . . ah, yes.”


“Do you want to touch it?”


“It is slightly longer than those to which I have become accustomed.”


“Longer is better.”


“And do you think that bigger is better as well?”


“I certainly hope so.”


“So . . . so smooth . . . and so dark!”


“Yes . . . “


“Well, then.”


“Hm?”


“Shall we?”


“Yes, I think so. . . . Oh . . . “


“Yes, Faramir?”


“I’ve never seen you hold it like that.”


“Trust me, Faramir, it may look odd to you, but you shall see, the results are far superior than the alternate way.”


“Well . . . if you insist.”


“Trust me, Faramir.”


“Hm.”


“Well?”


“Well what?”


“Are you not planning to begin?”


“I was waiting for you, Legolas.”


“Are you certain you are prepared?”


“Yes . . . “


“Ah . . . yes.”


A pause.


“Wait – Legolas!”


“Yes, Faramir?”


“I think . . . I think I need you to, um, well . . . “


“To what, my friend?”


“Erm . . . let me watch you . . . oh . . . oh!”


“Is that the rhythm that you prefer, then?”


“Mmmm . . . .”


“Yes? Better?”


“Yes . . . “


“Do you think you can match my movement?”


“I . . . I think so . . . oh . . . “


“Tell me if this makes you uneasy. I would not rush you for all the world, Faramir.”


“Hmm . . . yes, I . . . “


“Yes?”


“Nothing. I love watching the way your hands move, that’s all.”


“You like this?”


“Yes . . . so firm and sure. Not tentative at all.”


“It is simply practice, my friend. You shall do as well as I, when some months have passed . . . now.”


“ . . . yes?”


“Put it to your lips, my friend.”


“Oh! Uh . . . “


“Yes?”


“Like that?”


“Yes! Do not stop, else I must stop!”


“Then I guess I’d better keep going, then.”


“An excellent idea, my good Faramir. Yes . . . that’s it . . . “


“Mmmm . . . “


“I pray you, do not hum!”


“Hmmff . . . sorry!”


“You are disturbing my concentration! Now, then . . . “


Another pause, longer this time.


“Yes . . . that is good . . . oh, yes! Ah, you have improved greatly!”


“Hmm hm hmmm. . . “


“Yes . . . yes . . . yes . . . “


“Hmm hm hmmm!”


“ . . . . what? What is it?”


“I want to go faster.”


“Faster than this?”


“Yes.”


“Very well. I shall increase my rhythm as well. Be sure to match it. Oh! Have a care!”


“What?”


“Your teeth!”


“Sorry!”


Another pause.


“Yes . . . that is better, is it not? Watch my hands . . . keep up with me, Faramir. We must needs finish as one . . . . ah . . . yes . . . “


A pause.


“Your fingers are so nimble! I have never seen them move so fast . . . and the use of your tongue, too . . . oh yes . . . “


Another pause.


“We are close, my Faramir. Almost . . . keep a steady rhythm or we shall not finish together as we ought . . . yes . . . yes . . . oh, perfect . . . oh, that your lips can work such magic! Yes, Faramir, yes! Finish with me!”


The door opens. Éowyn and Arwen enter, staring at them in shock. Faramir and Legolas stare guiltily back.


“What is this? Faramir?”


“Umm . . . “


“Legolas! What are you doing? What are you doing with Faramir, closeted so closely here?”


“Well . . . my Queen . . . we . . . “


“We, um, didn’t want to tell you.”


“I had no idea you could play the viola da gamba, Legolas. It’s a lovely instrument.”


“It belonged to my mother, Lady Edlothiel.”


“I pray you, Lady Éowyn, is that the tenor recorder that you gave your husband last spring?”


“Yes. I had no idea he’d been practicing.”


“It was meant to be a surprise, Éowyn.”


“Then we do humbly beg your pardon, my lords both! We have done you great discourtesy by so arresting you as you were producing such melting harmony.”


“Nice counterpoint, too. A little fast though.”


“Faramir has been much improved of late.”


“Very well, then, you two, carry on. We’ll leave you alone and see you at dinner.”


They leave, shutting the door behind them. The two men look at each other.


“I hate having to stop before I’m finished.”


“It is of no consequence, my friend. Shall we begin again, or do you require a moment to rest your jaw?”


“No. Nothing wrong with my mouth. You ought to know that by now, Legolas!”


Legolas smiles coyly.


“Well I do, my dear Faramir, to my great gratification.”


“Need to rest your hand?”


“When have you seen my arm grow fatigued in the process of repetitious movement?”


“Hmmm . . . “


“Like this one . . . . “


“Ah . . . “


“Perhaps . . . perhaps we should . . . continue with the music later . . . “


“Yessss . . . “


“Lock the door.”

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.

Story Information

Author: Le Rouret

Status: General

Completion: Complete

Era: 3rd Age - Post-Ring War

Genre: Humor

Rating: Adult

Last Updated: 01/17/12

Original Post: 04/19/04

Go to Conversaton Held in a Small Antechamber, A overview

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