#cilewin

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The hobbit festival had been a lively affair, something Naewin would especially enjoy, which was the reason Cileveth had suggested it when she agreed to travel. They had married some years ago now, and slowly the dark-haired elf had changed her mind about her willingness to depart from Lorien, even if it was only a short trip here or there.

This journey to The Shire had been their longest trip yet. Naewin had described the place in such glowing terms, seeming to know how much Cileveth would enjoy the beauty of the area and the charm of the hobbits, and she had not been wrong at all. They had gone to the festival at the height of summer, when the land was warm and fragrant and full of life, and it all made Cileveth's heart feel as though it might burst from joy.

There was much delicious food, mirthful dances, handmade crafts to admire, and games with prizes to be won. Naewin and Cileveth participated in a rather odd race which involved carrying a small block of ice with a pair of tongs, and the fastest would of course cross the finish line before the ice melted in the summer heat. Cileveth somehow finished before Naewin despite thinking she could not run faster in a dress, and even if neither won, they laughed the entire time. Later there were musicians performing, and the hobbits had seen Naewin's lute and begged her to sing them some songs. They had been delighted to find elves in their midst, naturally, and thoroughly enjoyed the raucous music the minstrel was most fond of, filled with appreciation for good food and ale and the pleasure of a being in a lover's arms.

The day wore away, and it was soon dark in The Shire, with a sprinkling of stars showing the promise of more soon to appear. The elf women walked hand in hand down the lanes, chattering lightly, and eventually made their way off the path and well into the darkness of a field of soft grass, where a scattering of bushes provided a shield aside from the night sky overhead. It seemed only natural then for them to lay down together, tightly entwined, and discuss their day while gazing at the stars.

"What a marvelous race," Naewin chuckled, one hand idly stroking through Cileveth's dark cloud of hair. "I might have won, but..."

"Oh?" Cileveth smiled, sensing a story to come. "What was the trouble?"

"I might have won, but I was terribly distracted. The way your bottom wiggled in your dress as you carried the ice that particular way... well. Can you blame me, my dear?"

"Naewin!" Cileveth gasped quietly, pressing a hand to her own mouth to cover a shocked giggle. "That is a terribly cheeky thing to say. Perhaps you should not confess to staring at my bottom in public."

"It wasn't just me," Naewin protested, still mirthful. "There was a hobbit lass in between us, and I daresay she was eyeing your bottom as well, the way she dropped her ice constantly."

With a sigh that contained more laughter than frustration, Cileveth leaned closer to kiss Naewin's mouth sweetly. "I confess to being distracted tonight as well, though it did not cost me a victory..." she admitted with a little shyness, even after all their time together.

Naewin seemed to delight in this, pulling her even nearer. "And what distracted you, my beautiful blossom?"

"I... well, as you were singing, the front of your bodice... the very tops of your breasts were peeking out, looking so white and soft, and I... I thought about seeing more of them later."

"Ah," Naewin breathed, moving her head down to kiss her lover's neck. "Now who is saying cheeky things?"

For several minutes they said nothing more. Naewin was kissing Cileveth's mouth again, both of them aroused by their topic of conversation. She reached down to cup the swell of Cileveth's bottom in one hand, squeezing and kneading in a way which brought forth the slightest moan. Cileveth was meanwhile caressing one breast through Naewin's bodice, her thumb cresting over the tip and also drawing a breathy sigh of pleasure.