FIC: Finding Freedom (Elena, Gen) NC-17
Sep. 13th, 2012 08:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
marguerite_26Good evening. Here have some porn. (God, I'm so spammy lately. Sorry about that!)
Title: Finding Freedom
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
marguerite_26
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Elena-centric (Merlin fandom, Gen)
Word Count: 750ish
Content Notes: horse riding induced orgasm
Summary: Elena rides off into the night until she finds freedom.
Author's Notes: Thank you toxsmoonshine for the beta. Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
summerpornathon Week 4: Minor Characters... but not the one I submitted.
Tonight, Elena doesn’t bother with a saddle; she only does when someone is watching, and the stables are empty save for the horses. She steals out into the night on her favourite mare while the stablehands lose their wages in card games and ale at the village inn.
She’s only in her nightshift and the cold air rushing through the thin cotton makes her feel alive.
“You will marry, Elena.” Her father’s words still echo in her ears, seem to haunt the evening air. She taps her mare’s rump and urges her faster than her father would ever allow her to go were he around to see.
She squeals in delight as her mare hits full stride, leaping over fallen trees and swerving around low-hanging branches. This may be the happiest she’s ever been, she thinks. Her skin no longer feels tight, wrong, like if she could only crawl out of it she could find herself. Here, she is at one with the forest.
Behind her, out of sight and lost in the darkness, is the castle and the shackles of marriage.
She will not think of it. Not tonight. What she has left behind is lost to her and she will not return to claim them. Banquets and dresses and servants chafe her like heavy iron manacles. All she wishes for is to put another mile between them.
She kicks off her shoes.
The night is glorious. Warm wind tangles in her hair and the reflection of moonlight off a stream glints in and out of sight as she thunders past. She reaches down and tugs her shift free from where it’s pinned to her thighs and strips herself of its bindings. She tosses it over her shoulder with a laugh. Looking back, she sees it caught high in the branches of an oak. It dances in the wind like a spectre.
She moves on, never breaking her gallop. Her breasts ache with each bounce but her nipples peak like they are rejoicing in this newfound freedom. Her thighs never tense to lessen the impact as her bare arse smacks onto the soft fur. Pleasure spikes through her that she’s never felt before. Her mare is hot and powerful between her naked legs, its muscles working with every stride. She’s wet like she often is after a ride, but tonight, with nothing confining her, the intensity of it is shocking, dizzying. For the first time in her life she is unembarrassed by the warmth throbbing in her groin.
She leans forward, clutching the mare’s mane and shivers run down her spine that have nothing to do with the coming autumn. There is a spot, she knows, where even a single touch can make her breath catch, and she rocks her hips, sliding in her own wetness against her mare’s back. The fur tickles her inner thighs and rubs with perfect friction at the most sensitive part of her mound.
She shuts out the voices in her head that whisper improper, unladylike -- the same ones that tell her, “sit straight, eat slowly, brush your hair. Eat from the kitchen, not from the pond.” Tonight she only listens to the forest and her body.
Closing her eyes, she wraps her arms about her mare’s neck and rocks her hips. A thrum of pleasure heats her from the inside until she’s flushed and trembling, lost to everything but the sounds of the forest, the beat of her mare’s heart and the pleasure between her legs.
Her orgasm crashes upon her. It twists itself at her core, up her spine like the sharp heat of candle wax on her fingers -- just on the edge of pain before tumbling into pleasure. All the while, her mare thunders on, taking her farther and farther from her prison.
--
Grunhilde finds her asleep by a stream the next morning. She doesn’t lecture Elena, mentions nothing of disappointments or responsibilities. Her maid says nothing about how her father had been so worried, though Elena knows it’s true.
She simply dresses Elena, having come with a pretty yellow dress with too many ribbons and a bodice that steals Elena’s breath. She combs the grass from Elena’s hair and scrubs the dirt from her face.
And then takes Elena back to the duty from which there is no escape.
They pause outside the city walls and Grunhilde kindly offers her a handkerchief to dry her eyes before anyone can see.
Title: Finding Freedom
Author:
marguerite_26Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Elena-centric (Merlin fandom, Gen)
Word Count: 750ish
Content Notes: horse riding induced orgasm
Summary: Elena rides off into the night until she finds freedom.
Author's Notes: Thank you to
xsmoonshine for the beta. Written for summerpornathon Week 4: Minor Characters... but not the one I submitted.Tonight, Elena doesn’t bother with a saddle; she only does when someone is watching, and the stables are empty save for the horses. She steals out into the night on her favourite mare while the stablehands lose their wages in card games and ale at the village inn.
She’s only in her nightshift and the cold air rushing through the thin cotton makes her feel alive.
“You will marry, Elena.” Her father’s words still echo in her ears, seem to haunt the evening air. She taps her mare’s rump and urges her faster than her father would ever allow her to go were he around to see.
She squeals in delight as her mare hits full stride, leaping over fallen trees and swerving around low-hanging branches. This may be the happiest she’s ever been, she thinks. Her skin no longer feels tight, wrong, like if she could only crawl out of it she could find herself. Here, she is at one with the forest.
Behind her, out of sight and lost in the darkness, is the castle and the shackles of marriage.
She will not think of it. Not tonight. What she has left behind is lost to her and she will not return to claim them. Banquets and dresses and servants chafe her like heavy iron manacles. All she wishes for is to put another mile between them.
She kicks off her shoes.
The night is glorious. Warm wind tangles in her hair and the reflection of moonlight off a stream glints in and out of sight as she thunders past. She reaches down and tugs her shift free from where it’s pinned to her thighs and strips herself of its bindings. She tosses it over her shoulder with a laugh. Looking back, she sees it caught high in the branches of an oak. It dances in the wind like a spectre.
She moves on, never breaking her gallop. Her breasts ache with each bounce but her nipples peak like they are rejoicing in this newfound freedom. Her thighs never tense to lessen the impact as her bare arse smacks onto the soft fur. Pleasure spikes through her that she’s never felt before. Her mare is hot and powerful between her naked legs, its muscles working with every stride. She’s wet like she often is after a ride, but tonight, with nothing confining her, the intensity of it is shocking, dizzying. For the first time in her life she is unembarrassed by the warmth throbbing in her groin.
She leans forward, clutching the mare’s mane and shivers run down her spine that have nothing to do with the coming autumn. There is a spot, she knows, where even a single touch can make her breath catch, and she rocks her hips, sliding in her own wetness against her mare’s back. The fur tickles her inner thighs and rubs with perfect friction at the most sensitive part of her mound.
She shuts out the voices in her head that whisper improper, unladylike -- the same ones that tell her, “sit straight, eat slowly, brush your hair. Eat from the kitchen, not from the pond.” Tonight she only listens to the forest and her body.
Closing her eyes, she wraps her arms about her mare’s neck and rocks her hips. A thrum of pleasure heats her from the inside until she’s flushed and trembling, lost to everything but the sounds of the forest, the beat of her mare’s heart and the pleasure between her legs.
Her orgasm crashes upon her. It twists itself at her core, up her spine like the sharp heat of candle wax on her fingers -- just on the edge of pain before tumbling into pleasure. All the while, her mare thunders on, taking her farther and farther from her prison.
--
Grunhilde finds her asleep by a stream the next morning. She doesn’t lecture Elena, mentions nothing of disappointments or responsibilities. Her maid says nothing about how her father had been so worried, though Elena knows it’s true.
She simply dresses Elena, having come with a pretty yellow dress with too many ribbons and a bodice that steals Elena’s breath. She combs the grass from Elena’s hair and scrubs the dirt from her face.
And then takes Elena back to the duty from which there is no escape.
They pause outside the city walls and Grunhilde kindly offers her a handkerchief to dry her eyes before anyone can see.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-09-14 12:30 am (UTC)Thanks
Peace,
Bubba
no subject
Date: 2012-09-14 01:11 am (UTC):D
no subject
Date: 2012-09-14 01:46 am (UTC)Peace,
Bubba
no subject
Date: 2012-09-14 06:57 am (UTC)This was lovely!
no subject
Date: 2012-09-14 10:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-15 05:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-20 12:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-23 08:38 pm (UTC)