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Celeborn woke up to the sound of his lovers breathings.
His heart stopped for a beat as he listened to them, unable to stop himself from thinking of the worst. Yet the rhythm was stable and calm, Halbrand’s chest below his head and Galadriel’s on his back going up and down steadily. Celeborn regained his own breathing at that.
He moved his head just slightly, trying to put his ear right above his husband’s heartbeat. The hearts of humans were so much more sensitive, their beats increasing or decreasing from one minute to the next and for the most inconsequential of matters. And it scared him, how fragile life was, and it was especially terrifying this day, eventough he knew birthdays were supposed to be a time of enjoyment and not of worry.
Perhaps his birthday spanking will settle him, as it always had.
The tradition of celebration started by Halbrand’s suggestion. Humans and dwarves celebrated birthdays, but the day they were born was easier to track, with how little they lived compared to the elves. The task of finding a birthday was especially difficult for Galadriel and Celeborn, who were born before the sun and moon even existed, in a time where the concept of days as it was now known was incomprehensible. After explaining this to him Halbrand dropped the subject, but he was still in secret stubbornly looking for a day to call their birthdays.
Finally, one night, he found one. – Celeborn’s birthday should be the day he came back to us – he explained, his head in the crook of Celeborn’s neck, Galadriel’s arms on his waist. – It is tomorrow –
Celeborn smiles at Galadriel’s eyeroll, evidently exasperated with her husband’s insistence.
– What happens on birthdays? – he asked, deciding to go along with it. Although most of his life was spend near mortals, especially men, he did not engage much with them, thus never truly understood their customs.
Halbrand almost straightened with his excitement, only stopped by Galadriel forcing him to lay down again. – We celebrate, because it is a joy and a blessing to have you here. We will spoil you all day and show you our love and give you presents – he said, beaming with barely contained exhilaration.
Celeborn smiled, running a hand through his hair to calm him down. – What kind of presents? – he questioned, and Halbrand shrugged.
– Whatever you want, my love –
Celeborn thought about it for a minute. Then, he blurted out. – Can it be a spanking? – he had been wanting one for a time now, and it seemed now like the perfect moment to express it.
Halbrand’s eyes widened before he broke into a giggle. – Well, of course! It is an unusual gift, but I did say whatever you want – he laid his head in the pillows again, his earlier agitation replaced with tranquility. – And as strange as it was for me before, I did hear of other people practicing what they call birthday spankings: a smack for every year you have lived – he explained. – I would suppose that, since we are celebrating the day you came back, we should be counting the years since your return. It would be six tomorrow –
Celeborn dropped a kiss to his forehead. – I will be waiting for the morning, then –
The morning came, and the spanking was different than he expected. Halbrand insisted on no hurt being done to him, not in a day of merriment, so the smacks ended up being playful slaps that blushed his backside for a minute or two. Despite this change of plans Celeborn was not upset: rather he found the whole ordeal oddly amusing and took the promised six spanks, first from Halbrand and then from Galadriel, with a cheerful attitude.
That had been twelve years ago, and many things have changed since his first birthday.
Halbrand starts to stir beneath him, and Celeborn straightens slightly to make room for him, causing Galadriel to woke up, too. She embraces him tightly as she yawns. – Good morning, my loves – her voice was thick and slow with sleep, and she drawled out the words in a way that Celeborn found endearing.
Halbrand settled a hand over his husband’s head, softly stroking his scalp. – Happy birthday, dear – he used that hand as a leverage to pull Celeborn closer, planting a kiss to his forehead and then claiming his lips. Celeborn smiled indulgently, but his eyes remained thoughtful.
Galadriel knelt beside them. – What is it that worries you so, our sweet? – she asked, running gentle fingers through his bare back beneath his sleepclothes. Even with her mind barely conscious after her slumber, she could feel how distressed Celeborn was. He merely sighed.
– Can I have my spanking now? Please? – his voice was small and pleading, causing his wife and husband to look at each other for answers. Halbrand sat on the bed, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes. He would normally insist on properly waking up and maybe even refreshing themselves in the bathroom before Celeborn’s birthday spanking, but he could already tell something was making his husband upset, and he recognized that the spanking was a way of settling him.
– Well, of course, my heart. Let Galadriel begin, it’s her turn this year – he gave her a mischievous look, which she returned. She positioned herself against the headboard with her legs spread, giving Celeborn a large space to lay on the bed, while at the same time having Halbrand close enough for comfort. The silver-haired elf laid across his wife’s knees and rested his head on his husband’s lap.
Galadriel continued running a hand through his back as her other hand lifted his nightgown. It was large enough to cover his modesty but short enough to be easily moved out of the way, which proved to be necessary when you shared a bed with two voracious lovers. His smallclothes were kept in place with laces, and his wife untied them as slowly as she could manage to, making Celeborn’s breathing accelerate with mere anticipation.
Sooner than later even the smallclothes were pulled down and out of Galadriel’s target. Celeborn’s bare backside shivered from the soft breeze in the room, but the strike of his lady’s palm quickly changed that. Her slaps, although playful, still carried a small strenght, just enough to flush his cheeks and make him gasp.
The smacks are paused, delivered leisurely all over his backside: the center of each cheek, the highest point, the undercurve and sitspots, all feeling the color rise to the surface under Galadriel’s expert hand. She knows how to make hurt, but she deliberately doesn’t. This is not a day for hurt.
Yet why does Celeborn’s mind betray him so? Why does the feeling of dread loom over him still? He is safe here, protected in his home, surrounded by the people who love him most in the world. But that knowledge does not stop the torrent of emotions that were pouring down on him, clouding his mind, bringing tears to his eyes, suffocating him.
– Breathe, Celeborn – Halbrand demanded, with a soft yet commanding voice.
– I’m sorry – Celeborn mutters. He could not help apologizing: his birthday had barely even started and he was already ruining it with his bawling. So much for a day of merriment!
Galadriel stops the spanking, instead caressing the light pink handprints on her husband’s bottom. – It is alright, sweet boy. You just have to let it all go – the male elf nodded, breathing deeply just like they expected him to. He held onto Halbrand’s legs for support and reassurance, and his husband started to stroke his head.
The last slaps are just as light as the rest before them, but Celeborn’s breath shudders and his back trembles all the same. Galadriel lets him lie over her knees for some moments after she is done, simply continuing to caress the color away until his backside returned to its pale complexion. In that time both her and Halbrand took over comforting their husband, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear and assuring him he was safe and allowed to let it all out.
– That’s such a good boy. Do you still want the rest of your spanking? – Halbrand questions, holding his cheeks with his palms gently. Celeborn leans into the touch.
– Please – he whispers. He fears his voice might break if he tries to speak any louder.
– No need to beg, my life – his husband caresses his face with his thumbs and kisses his lips once more before helping him move. Celeborn lets himself be mandhandled into an inverse position: now with his head in Galadriel’s lap and his backside over Halbrand’s.
The man’s arm encircled his hips, holding him down with more tenderness than force. – Do you feel safe, Celeborn? – he asks, and the question throws the male elf off balance. He cranes his neck to look back, bewilderement written on his face.
– Yes – Celeborn has never, once, felt anything less than safe when it comes to his husband and wife. This is one of the less dangerous things they have done in their marriage, and even in those that could have ended in him being harmed no damage ever came his way. Neither Galadriel nor Halbrand would ever permit it.
– Good. Then I’m going to ask you to do something – the man said, lifting his nightgown once more. He rested his palm over the center of Celeborn’s bare bottom. – I want you to let it all go. All those thoughts that are haunting you, the tears you are trying to contain – his husband gave a trembling nod at that. – They have to leave –
– We only want what’s best for you, melethron. Let yourself remember and feel and weep now, so you do not carry that burden anymore – Galadriel said, reasuming Halbrand’s strokes on his head as he reasumed the smacks. Celeborn wanted to be good for them, so even against his will he did as he was told. This particular birthday was making some terrible memories resurface, and as much as he did not want to think about them, he had to in order to move on from the feelings they provoked.
Fate had been merciless. Loss and tragedy have marked his life, going to the extreme point of taking his own, too. And he remembered many horrible things: the warm blood of friends dying in his arms, a sacked Doriath succumbing to the chaos during the kinslaying, the everlasting grief towards his family, forever lost to him. Piercing pain gave way to burning lungs, and then the unyielding cold in the Halls of Mandos, where space and time made no sense and where those memories became a curse, because they were the only thing left to remember.
Aye, fate had been so very cruel, but also so very kind, giving them gifts of immeasurable value. Letting Celeborn return to his wife was the first to come, and when he finally found himself safe in her embrace he thought he would not ever find a moment of more happiness.
The day Halbrand put his own ring on his right hand rapidly changed his mind. Now there were two tokens of love from each of his lovers: a silver ring of engagement, and his golden wedding rings. Celeborn kept both in his hand, showing the world he belonged to a husband and a wife who loved his very bones, and who were loved deeply in return.
Celebrían was born ten years after that, to change his perception of everything once again. Their silver-haired, green-eyed, heart-faced babygirl was their biggest blessing. She claimed possession of their hearts since they first learned of her existence, and as she grew older the adoration remained strong, if not stronger.
The tears started to pour from his eyes as memories of his daughter hit him. There had been many sacrifices done and many hardships endured to have what he has now: a family and a home. After all that he had lost and how much he had suffered, it was nothing short of a blessing to live in a peaceful time, govern a beautiful land, marry his two favorite persons and raise their babygirl together.
Halbrand finishes the eighteen smacks, but Celeborn does not notice. He is too preoccupied crying, which, against his earlier judgment, was bringing him the relief and absolution he needed right now.
Hands are all over his body now, readjusting his clothes, helping him sit, embracing him. Halbrand’s strong arms surround him from behind while Galadriel’s arms are tight against his waist. Celeborn is being completely held, but he is not trapped: he is safe. So he cries, until he is spent, until the past remains behind them, until his more atrocious memories are buried beneath the pleasant ones, until his mind is focused on the present, the best present he could ask for.