The Road Goes Ever On

by Emma Keigh

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Gandalf/Legolas

Summary: Reportedly, Sir Ian McKellen suggested to Peter Jackson that Gandalf would enjoy a little romance - with Legolas.


Category: PWP, romance

Disclaimer: The characters and milieux from The Lord of the Rings are the property of the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema (AOL). I only play with them from time to time for my own amusement and without compensation. No harm; no foul; no profit. Anything or anyone new, however, is mine (left-overs again!).

Warning: This story contains explicit scenes of sex between consenting adult males of different species. If you are under age or don't care for this, LEAVE NOW. Beta-read by Nikki Memmott. Thanks, merci beaucoup, tapadh leibh, gracias, danke, grazie, spazebo, arigato, obrigado. Feedback will be cherished.

The Great West Road

The road seemed to stretch on forever, though the wizard knew it only went as far as the shore, ending at the Grey Havens on the west coast of Middle-earth. From where he stood though, at the top of a slight rise on the outskirts of the Shire, it seemed endless.

"Well," he commented to no one in particular, "standing here won't make the journey any shorter." He shifted the strap of his pack and stepped forward, his long robes dragging in the dust of the road. He swung his staff like a walking stick, not leaning on it despite his aged appearance. Once his feet had found their rhythm, he hummed a sprightly melody under his breath.

An hour later he was a league to the west, around a bend and over two more hills, when he heard the beat of horse's hooves behind him. He cocked his head to listen carefully, and when he was certain there was but a single rider on the road, he continued walking, moving closer to the verge than before.

The horse's gallop gave way to a trot and stopped abruptly when the horse and rider reached the walker. Calmly the wizard stopped and turned to watch the rider vault from the horse's back. "It took you long enough," he said as the green-clad rider approached on foot. The unattended horse stood still for a moment, then stepped to the side of the road to graze.

"Arundil is still talking," the Elf said. "I don't think he noticed my departure."

Gandalf looked at Legolas from under the wide brim of his hat, a sly smile spreading across his wizened face. "Some diplomat you are," he teased. He dropped his pack and staff and spread his arms, welcoming the Elf into his embrace.

Legolas ducked his head under the brim of Gandalf's hat and kissed him, a slender hand on either side of the grey-bearded face. The grey-clad arms wrapped around the lithe-bodied Elf.

Gandalf allowed the kiss of greeting to evolve into a deep, searching kiss of passion. "You are eager this day," he said when finally the Elf released him. "We still have a long journey before us," he reminded Legolas, extricating himself from the Elf's embrace. The fair Elf looked crestfallen for a brief moment, but a quick caress of gnarled fingers on a smooth-skinned cheek brought the light back to the indigo eyes.

After securing the wizard's pack to the horse's back, Legolas and Gandalf walked side by side down the dusty road, bound for Lindon and a stay with Lord Círdan. Legolas bore missives from both Thranduil his father and from Rivendell's lord Elrond for the shipwright. Gandalf's mission was of wider scope, encompassing the eventual and ultimate destruction of Sauron and his evil minions.

At midday they stopped and rested beneath a chestnut tree, lounging in its shade from the bright sun. While the Elf's horse grazed nearby, they divided a loaf of hearty brown bread and a chunk of sharp cheese between them. "'Tis a pity ale does not travel well," Gandalf bemoaned as they ate.

"No," Legolas replied, a sly smile on is face, "but wine does." He produced a plump wineskin from his gear, and offered it to the wizard. "Have you ever known me to travel unprepared?"

Gandalf took a healthy swig from the wineskin and passed it back to Legolas. "Never," he answered, coarsely wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He leaned against the tree trunk and sighed. "I could sit here for days," the wizard mused. "Watching the play of light on the millpond yonder and the cattle in the field."

"You would change your mind when the fall rains come, and the winter snows." Legolas turned to sit on one hip so he could look into the wizard's sky-blue eyes. "You like the warmth of the Hall of Fire too much."

Gandalf raised a hand to stroke the Elf's cheek. "You know me too well, Greenleaf," he said. Sliding his hand beneath the golden strands, he pulled the full lips to his own, and wrapped his other arm around the slender body.

Legolas swung one leg over the wizard's recumbent form, pressing their bodies together from shoulder to hip. Gandalf moaned as the kiss deepened and the Elf's arousal made itself known against his own.

Suddenly Legolas pulled away from the kiss and out of the wizard's embrace. He sat up, and pulled his jerkin and shirt from his body. They both breathed heavily, and once his upper body was bared, the Elf resumed his position atop the still-robed wizard.

The wizard's gnarled hands skimmed over the smooth skin above the snug leggings, then lower to cup and knead the firm mounds of the Elf's rear. Legolas gasped at the caress, and wriggled lasciviously in the wizard's clutches. "You would have me here," he asked breathlessly, "in the open?"

"I would have you in the Hall of Fire, before all of Elrond's court, when you kiss me like that," Gandalf replied. He brought his hands between them once more, running the flats of his palms over the strongly muscled chest, tweaking the rosy nipples into hardened nubs. "There's no one about," he went on, his voice roughened with passion. "Unless you think our joining would shock your horse."

Legolas laughed as only an Elf can, a melody rivaling the songs of birds. He reached for the abandoned wineskin and drank deeply, then put the spout to the wizard's mouth. Gandalf swallowed the sweet red wine, gesturing with his shaggy eyebrows that he had had enough.

Setting aside the wineskin once more, Legolas bent to kiss Gandalf again. Just before their lips met, he whispered, "You may have me wherever and whenever you will, my dear one." He brushed a soft, chaste kiss across the waiting mouth. "Here, or in Elrond's hall, even before my father's throne, I am yours."

Though they appeared gnarled with age, Gandalf's fingers were nimble, and quickly loosened the laces that fastened the Elf's leggings. At the same time, long fingers made short work of the stout leather belt that held the grey robes closed, then of the polished buttons down the front of the simple shirt. As Legolas bared the wizard's chest, Gandalf released the Elf's engorged member from the constriction of his clothing, stroking its length from root to crown and back, his touch eliciting a moan of pleasure.

With an unspoken suggestion, they paused in their explorations of each other to strip the remaining clothes from their bodies, the urgency of their passions building with each discarded garment. A mere shrug dropped the wizard's shirt and outer robe to the ground, soon to be joined by his boots and trousers. He leaned back against the pile of clothes and watched the Elf disrobe.

Legolas pulled off his soft suede boots, then stood and pushed the tight leggings over his hips and thighs. He bent to free his feet, first one leg, then the other, moving fluidly, the muscles rippling under the alabaster skin.

"You are all too obvious, Greenleaf," Gandalf informed him. "You needn't try so hard to entice me." His hand strayed to his rigid member, absently stroking himself as his eyes drank in every line and angle of the perfect body before him.

"I don't know what you mean," the Elf teased, straightening to his full height. He stretched his arms high and his head back so his long, golden hair reached to the small of his back.

The wizard's need was rampant and leaking, his body responding to the inviting display Legolas made. He groaned in frustration as the Elf continued to tease him, standing just out of reach. "Mercy, oh Prince of Mirkwood, king of my heart." Gandalf patted the ground at his side, still stroking himself. The shaft of his organ was steel-hard, quivering with tension, the velvety crown was engorged, nearly purple, and pearly fluid, thicker than the finest cream, seeped from the dark slit.

Legolas grinned and threw himself to the ground. "Shall I ready myself for you?"

"And rob me of that pleasure?" Gandalf pulled the slender Elf close, their erections pressed together between their loins. "No, my Greenleaf," he went on, his hands stroking long slow paths from shoulder to rump and back, "I shall take that task, delightful as it is." He pushed the Elf flat onto his back and stretched his pale form alongside the golden-skinned prince, capturing the full, rosy lips with his own.

No more words were exchanged between them, only the playful and erotic sounds of their passions. With both his hands and his mouth, the wizard mapped the entirety of the Elf's body, taking the prince to the edge of ecstacy over and over. Collecting the leaking fluids from them both, Gandalf plied his not insubstantial skills to prepare the Elf for their joining. He took the rosy-headed organ deep into his mouth and throat as he teased at the puckered opening, his fingers opening and stretching the tight muscles that guarded the Elf's channel. Slicked with their fluids, the wizard's fingers found the deep-set gland. His first touch sent Legolas into a shuddering climax that flooded the wizard's throat with the prince's seed.

More than ready himself, the wizard's member was slick with his own juices. Positioning his body between the Elf-prince's upraised knees, Gandalf pushed just the sensitive head of his organ into the still tight entrance. Orgasmic spasms gripped the intruding flesh, sending waves of ecstacy through the wizard's ivory-skinned body. Unable to restrain his ardor any further, the wizard thrust strongly, pumping his sex in and out of the hot channel, each stroke deeper than the last, until finally he could go no farther.

Legolas wrapped his long legs around the slender form of the wizard, locking his heels behind the strong thighs, and when they were indeed one flesh, he drew Gandalf's lips to his own, their tongues dueling back and forth, sharing first one mouth then the other. Their bodies moved together in a ever-increasing rhythm until with one last thrust the wizard filled the Elf's body with his potent essence.

Their bodies, their minds, their very souls were joined as they lay on the sward beneath the chestnut tree at the side of the Great West Road. The lords of Amman, watchful of all things in Middle-earth, smiled at the passion they shared, and veiled their naked forms from passersby. The doughty Hobbit who drove his ale-cart along the road that afternoon saw only an Elven-bred horse grazing in the sun, his mane and tail flowing in the breeze.


Author's notes:

[1] Dedicated to Sir Ian McKellen, who reportedly suggested a romance between Gandalf and Legolas to PJ.

[2] I hereby witness that J.R.R. Tolkien is god, and Peter Jackson is his prophet.

[3] According to canon, the Istari (wizards) have the aspect of old men, but are hale and hearty -- which I interpret to mean that under those robes, Gandalf is a hunk!