sparkindarkness | Celebration of Pornography week post

In honour of pornography celebration week, declared by the esteemed Giogio, the faery boys have decided to make the sacrifice and get busy again. I even managed to link it inot the main plot! Go me.

Anyway, some elf-bois doing their bit to fight against censorship (that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it)

Sitharensor lay silently in the dark, eyes glued to the lightening sky outside his window. Ilatheril lay next to him silent, eyes closed breathing strong and steady. It was the closest the sidhe ever came to sleep, that deep meditative trance where they lay alone with their thoughts, free to watch them play pout before them. Sitharensor often wondered if these drifting thoughts were close to what others called dreams.

Sometimes he envied other creature’s their sleep. It seemed very peaceful, a blissful lack of awareness, freedom from thought and introspection, a time of ultimate freedom, even from yourself. No such mercy existed for the sidhe. None existed for Sitharensor.

He had lain the full night unable to hide from his thoughts. Thoughts grown dark and angry, fed by the presence of the beauty curled against him. Thoughts of last night and the crimes committed during the dying of the sun. Ilatheril had had a point. Their marriage was not valid until it was consummated. In the name of peace between the courts it was essential the marriage be finalised as soon as possible, so the plan could move forwards and the fae could try to reclaim some of their lost greatness. Ilatheril had been right. His methods had been so terribly wrong. In that one finalising act he had placed the peace accord in greater danger than ever before. This could spark a renewal of open hostilities, another five decades of conflict, death, oppression and genocide.

Sitharensor’s heart cried out in anger. He wanted justice. He wanted restitution. He wanted his personal honour restored, his shame exorcised. He wanted revenge and reaffirmation of self. Last night Ilatheril had destroyed him in many ways far more than he could have done with a blade or dark magic spell. He had destroyed his honour, his self image, undermined his very position as a sidhe. He hated it. He was Seelie, and he hated - another terrible crime to lay at the feet of the Unseelie who lay next to him.

He sat up in the first rays of the sun, regarding the rising globe with burning lilac eyes. He took deep breaths of the morning air, forcing down the anger, letting his mind chain his emotions. This is what it meant to be Seelie. Under the unflinching gaze of his mind he knew he had to swallow his anger, ignore the crippling slight on his honour. It was a monumental injustice to allow it go unpunished, but it had to be, or the war would start again. He would not be the cause of more bloodshed, not even for this. He turned to look down at the Unseelie, to see Ilatheril’s eyes open and a confident smile playing along his lips.

“You’re good, Sith. Reaaaaal good. Guess all that repression you Seelie do make for explosive sex.”

Sitharensor flinched away from him, standing in one graceful motion to stand embraced by the sun’s morning light. He stood unselfconsciously naked, apparently unaware of the dazzling effect the sun had on his gorgeous divine body and how it made his long golden hair glow, as if the sunlight itself had been spun into a cloak around his perfect nakedness. His eyes were hard though, and cruel.

“There will be no repeat of last night.”

Ilatheril’s jaw dropped. He had never been courtly trained and his shock was painted savagely across his face. “What?! How can you say that!? You mean we’re married but bloody celibate? Let me, guess an Unseelie not good enough for your bloody bed?!”

“I would have welcomed you to my bed, and will again. It will harm the treaty if we are not lovers.”

Ilatheril stormed to his feet. “I’m not fucking anyone who does it only because they’re duty bound! What’s with this no repeat thing?”

Sitharensor wavered a little... he had known Ilatheril was ignorant, but this ignorant? Or could this be acceptable among the Dark Court? “You used magic last night.”

“We’re sidhe Sith. We use magic for everything you know that better than me! Is this some arcane Seelie law?” His mouth twisted with the Unseelie contempt for laws.

“We use magic during lovemaking. It can enhance the experience beautifully. You didn't use magic during sex, you used magic to start sex. You used magic to convince me to sleep with you. You basically sued magical seduction.”

“If you wanna put it that way, yeah, I called our lust and fed it into the Earth’s life urge, the growing urge. Powerful wasn’t it?” He grinned. He was proud. Proud!

“Yes. Very powerful. So powerful I could never resist it, no matter that I am a sidhe, one of the most magical creatures in the world. Magical seduction I could not resist. I was magically forced into sex. In the Seelie court, we call that rape.”

He blinked and froze. “C’mon Sith, don’t be...”

“Forcing sex on someone against their will is rape, regardless of how it is achieved. Using magic to make my attraction for you uncontrollable to the point where I cannot think fits that description, don’t you think?”

Ilatheril looked down, a little colour entering his pale cheeks. He really did need at least some basic training on hiding his emotions it was almost embarrassing to watch. “Balor’s Eye, Sith! I never thought of it like that. I mean, I dunno, maybe it’s an Unseelie thing. I’m not arguing with you, I mean, I can't really, but gods, I didn’t know! I didn't think... we use it a lot in the Unseelie court and no-one’s ever cried rape!”

“And how many of these people you have tried it on are sidhe? How many would think they could complain against a noble sidhe’s actions? How many would never complain about the touch of the sidhe simply because they adore us so much? I am sidhe, Ilatheril. You do not use magic to coerce a sidhe for any reason. It is the highest insult you can inflict.”

The Unseelie stood, looking at his feet. He tried to pull his ankle length obsidian hair around him to hide his nakedness. Shame came off him in waves. “I’m sorry Sith, err, Sitharensor. I didn’t... I don’t have any excuses.” He licked his lips with a nervous tongue. “What, what happens now?”

Sitharensor closed his eyes. He knew what happened now, and wasn’t happy. It was his duty. His duty.

“First, we will retire to the bedroom.”

“What?!”

“One thing you were right about last night - the treaty is dependant on our marriage. Our marriage needs consummating. The... circumstances of last night render it invalid.” He stood, gathering himself mentally and physically. “Come, we have much to do today.”

Ilatheril followed mutely, more than a little in awe of the Seelie, and showing it on every line of his face. The bed room was an astonishing place. The sidhe were civilised creatures, the Seelie doubly so, surrounding themselves with decadent luxury and all the rich pleasures they could lay their hands on. But Sitharensor’s bedroom cried out the other half of the Sidhe soul. The sidhe were the most magical creatures in the world, they were closer to the arcane forces of the world, the sweet blessings of the Lord and Lady. The power of nature flowed through them at every step, it was part of them, one with them and they were part of it, more than any other being imaginable.

The bed was a mound of earth, shaped by the roots of a great tree that reached up, it’s thick interwoven branches and draperies of vines created a verdant ceiling. The mound of earth was alive with thick moss and flowering heather, sharp branches pulled down and softened in deference to the sidhe’s comfort. Sheets of silk lay near the bed, but threads from the sheet lead to the silk worms laid in the lush foliage that framed the bed. Everything was alive, vibrant and growing. Nature had provided a bounty that far exceeded the most depraved mortal’s luxury.

Sitharensor took Ilatheril’s arm and moved the silent Unseelie to the bed. With that one touch he guided Ilatheril to climb onto the heavy mass of moss. The Unseelie obeyed, and lay back on the bed, arranging his hair into a blanket underneath him. He lay vulnerable and exposed to the harsh lilac eyes he could not bring himself to meet. Sitharensor stood and examined the Unseelie for the first time without the clouding effects of magic. He had all the divine beauty of the sidhe, from the night black sheet of hair, to the slightly up-tilted purple eyes and the slightly feline, beautiful face. He was tall and slender, like all sidhe Sitharensor knew. But he was no indolent noble, his body was toned with powerful muscles. His skin was smooth, and glowed slightly in the greenish light of the room. Sitharensor could see the marks of last night scattered around the Unseelie’s flesh, startling bruises and cuts, and long deep furrows at each wrist.

Sitharensor climbed onto the bed, and stood over the prone Unseelie on all fours, looking down into Ilatheril’s face and his averted eyes. He leaned down and kissed the Unseelie on the corner of his mouth. He was gentle, Ilatheril’s lips under his were soft, warm velvet. The Unseelie didn’t move.

Sitharensor gently touched Ilatheril’s should, stroking gently up the Unseelie’s neck, tracing his chin. He pushed gently, forcing Ilatheril to look at him, to make their eyes meet. Those dark purple eyes were mirrors of guilt and worry, and terribly uncertain. They reminded Sitharensor how young he was, how ignorant and naive, and part of the hardness in the Seelie’s heart softened. He leaned forward, slowly enough for Ilatheril to move his head if he wanted, and kissed those velvet lips again. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the rapturous feel of their lips together. The muscles of Ilatheril’s face moved under his hand, their unnaturally smooth skin flowing easily together. Sitharensor sighed gently and began to push harder. He cracked his lips, ever so slightly, and touched Ilatheril’s with his tongue. Ilatheril shyly opened his mouth freely to the Seelie.

The kiss was long and unhurried, with each gently exploring the other's mouth. It was an incredible contrast to the night before, whereas that had been mad, animal passion and insane lust, this was soft and careful, each moving as if the other was made of the finest glass, and their beauty would shatter under clumsy handling.

After an age, Sitharensor pulled back from his husband, who now wore an uncertain smile. The Seelie’s face was a mask that revealed nothing and implied everything, only the low fires in his lilac eyes gave any clue to any emotion, that and the automatic response of his body pressing down against the erect straining of Ilatheril’s. The remained in perfect tableaux, their manhoods pressed together, their eyes locked, Sitharensor’s hand still cradling Ilatheril’s chin.

Sitharensor’s hand moved down Ilatheril’s body, his eyes locked in gentle questioning on Ilatheril’s. He didn't pause, nodding instantly to the unspoken request. Sitharensor dropped his mask, lips curving into a smile, the banked fires in his eyes flaring to raging life.

Sitharensor cupped Ilatheril in his hand, stroking gently and teasingly slowly. Ilatheril closed his eyes, his breath coming sharply. Pre-come leaked from Ilatheril's throbbing organ, coating Sitharensor’s hand as he pumped a little faster. Ilatheril began to move under the Seelie, making small, helpless sounds, his breath increasing in tempo. Ilatheril arched his back, mouth opening... and Sitharensor stopped, moving his wet hand away with a tiny smile.

Ilatheril’s eyes flew open, he stared up at Sitharensor, silently pleading with his eyes. Sitharensor grinned, and spread Ilatheril’s legs with his knees, forcing them gently, but inexorably apart. Comprehension dawned in Ilatheril's eyes as Sitharensor eased one damp finger inside the Unseelie, pushing in and out slowly and gently, aware that Ilatheril could still be aching after last night.

If Ilatheril suffered any discomfort he did not show it, his eyes remaining bright and eager. Even when Sitharensor inserted a second, then a third finger, the Seelie was pretty certain the noises that passed Ilatheril’s lips did not indicate pain. Ilatheril's hands coming up and grabbing the Seelie’s shoulders, desperately pulling him closer also seemed to indicate he was content with the situation.

Sitharensor knelt up and raised Ilatheril’s legs to his shoulders, holding them why and high to present Ilatheril’s hole perfectly to the golden sidhe. Carefully he pushed himself into the Unseelie as slowly and tenderly as he could. Ilatheril groaned, savouring every inch as Sitharensor pressed himself deeply into him. The Seelie eased himself in and out of the Unseelie several times, with each stroke increasing the speed only slightly, applying only a little more force. He leaned down and kissed Ilatheril, never pausing the movement of his slowly accelerating hips. The kiss was full and long, soft, yet passionate, gentle but strong. The tenderness of the kiss made it more meaningful than any that had gone before it.

The sidhe didn't break their kiss, but synchronised its rhythm with the growing pressure and tempo of Sitharensor's pumping hips, and Ilatheril's arching back. They pushed against each other in perfect counterpoint, every motion controlled and perfect, no mad wild rutting, it was a sublime dance of two divine beings. It was hauntingly beautiful and frighteningly erotic.

Sitharensor felt Ilatheril’s muscles contract around his manhood, felt the Unseelie’s member trapped between their bodies stir and throb. Sitharensor’s hands gripped Ilatheril’s hands tightly, pulling their bodies as close as possible, pulling their flesh together in a long unbroken line that slid and rubbed in time to the sound of the Seelie’s hips hitting the Unseelie’s buttocks. Sitharensor felt the orgasm build, felt the surge in Ilatheril. He kissed the Unseelie hard, their tongues mashing together as they both came at exactly the same moment. As the great hot sea of the orgasm took them, Sitharensor felt his magic slip loose, flowing round the room like thick rich sunlight. Underneath him Ilatheril gasped in rapture, his power flowing outwards, soft moonlight to dapple the sun. Their hearts united in perfect ecstasy, their bodies joined in the ultimate intimacy, they both felt their powers mingle, merge and join; in one shining moment they were one being basking in pure pleasure and joyous love.

The orgasm faded in strength sapping jolts, spasming their lower bodies as the burning sea receded. Sitharensor collapsed full length on top of the Unseelie, feeling the hot slick wetness of Ilatheril's seed on his stomach. Only then did they break the kiss and stare into each others eyes with gentle, unfettered wonder.

It was beautiful, it was wonderful. It was awe inspiring. And in Sitharensor’s heart, he felt a kernel of power that was not his own, but now called his body home.