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Whispering Winds by tinni

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Whispering Winds

Wedding Night


Caranthir waited in breathless anticipation as Ninglorrīn went off to gather the flowers needed for their wedding wreaths. It was going to take sometime he knew, but simply could not cool the fire that had kindled in his blood, in his very soul. So it was the way with the Quendi, they could go through their entire life not knowing the desires of the flesh or caring for it, but upon meeting one who they wished to wed the desire was kindled within them and their was no way to sate it save with the act itself.

Yet, he had to wait. He had to… Caranthir’s jaws dropped when Ninglorrīn stepped out of the woods holding to a wreath of red poppies, white daisies and yellow buttercups. That, however, was not what caught Caranthir’s attention. His attention was caught by Ninglorrīn’s dress, or rather the lack of it. She had taken off her green gown and was now dressed only in leaves and shoots, held together with a sticky substance that glistened in the faint light of the stars, another wreath identical to the one she was holding adorned her hair.

Heat pooled in Caranthir’s groin and it took all his will power not to rush to her and ravage her where she stood. Feeling a need to say something, anything, Caranthir finally asked, “Is this what the Laiquendi wear to their wedding?”

Ninglorrīn laughed, “Nay, but we do dress like this on our first coupling.” She blushed,

Caranthir blushed but added, “Come then, my love, let us bind our souls together for all eternity and get to coupling.”

Ninglorrīn feigned a scandalised look, “You Noldor are so…”

“Irresistible,” whispered Caranthir as he drew close to her, “so are certain Laiquendi maidens and some of us Noldor cannot wait to taste the sweetness of their nectar.”

Ninglorrīn smiled a faint smile and placed the wreath upon his head. They said the scared vows that no mortal has ever heard, invoking Manwė, Varda and Eru Ilśvatar himself. Than they kissed a heady kiss, long and deep, their tongues duelling for dominance, the fire in their blood now blazing to hot that each thought that they would be burn alive if they were not joined and joined soon.

Caranthir did not know what was happening, whether he was standing or sitting or lying on his back. All he knew was that leaves were clincing to the skin of his new wife really, really well. “Damn leaves,” he growled when they finally broke the kiss, “why won’t they come off?”

Ninglorrīn laughed and stepped away from him, “That’s the idea,” she whispered.

“What do you mean?” he demanded, even as he reached for her blindly, suddenly aware that he was standing but not very steadily.

Ninglorrīn reached for the tip of a large leaf that covered most of her right breast, “Do you love me?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Ninglorrīn ripped the leaf away, Caranthir started salivating, “What do you think of the Laiquendi now?”

Caranthir’s mind started formulating a reply that would make her rip all the damned leaves away, but Ninglorrīn would have none of it, “If you lie the leaf will go right back on.”

“Damn!” thought Caranthir, “I think your skill in woodcraft is without equal.” He answered truthfully. Ninglorrīn look of a smaller leaf. “You empathy for animals are admirable.” Another small leaf came off, “Your lack of desire for material goods is something the dwarves should learn.” lots of leaves came off for that one. Caranthir grinned, getting cocky, “And you are undoubtedly good at matters of the flesh, seeing that you have seen countless animals do it. Ninglorrīn started putting the leaves back on, “No! No! Don’t put the leaves back on, don’t put the leave back on!” Suddenly a thought occurred to him, “Why do I need the leaves off any way?”

Before Ninglorrīn could answer Caranthir swept her up in a powerful embrace, kissing her lips, leaves and licked the exposed skin, “Um… sweet.” He whispered.

“I used honey…” her breath hitched as his kisses got bolder, “to stick the leaves.”

“You are sweet even with out the honey.” Said Caranthir as he claimed her lips once again, exploring every inch of the warm mouth that was his to explore and his alone, “Hold, my love, I must have or I will go insane.”

“We can’t have that now can we.” She whispered as she was felt herself lowered to the forest floor. “I would like my husband to be sane, well as sane as it is possible for a Feanorian to be, gasp!”

“You are going to pay for that!” he growled.

His hands, lips, tongue were everywhere, scattering her thoughts, inflaming her sense, driving her crazy, “Please!” than she screamed.

Caranthir enclosed her in a comforting hug, “The pain will pass.”

“You know that how??” she screamed.

“Um…. Instinct.”

“Caranthir, move!”

“It’s kind of hard to move when I am buried in,” Ninglorrīn slapped him hard, Caranthir laughed but began to build up a steady rhythm.

Ninglorrīn let out a frustrated sigh, but than all thought fled her mind when Caranthir started a rhythm that drowned the pain in great waves of pleasure. The waves got every higher, building into a tidal wave several miles high. Finally the wave clashed, sweeping away all but each other. He hugged her to him, holding her tight, “I love you, I love you.” He kept repeating, without even realising.

She laughed, “I love you, too.” Delighting in the knowledge that now they belonged to each other.


Author's Notes: According to the Laws and Customs of the Eldar, History of Middle-earth: Morgoth's Ring, elves were virgins upon until their wedding nights. So yes, this is both Caranthir and Ninglorrīn's first time.

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