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Lilith Wydenbrooke -- Romance, Hurt/Comfort -- Posted: 27/09/2012 -- Updated: 27/09/2012
“She hit you again, didn’t she?”

Eledhwen looked flornly at the man standing at the window, looking out at the rain. She sniffled, a single diamond tear slipping down her pale cheeks.

The man standing at the window turned to face her, his blond hair shining pale in the half-light, his thick brows furrowed over piercing blue eyes. He looked a lot like Benedict Cumberbatch (Author’s Note: but less so than Mr Ben, who looked exactly like Benedict!).

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, walking over and cupping Eledhwen’s face, looking into the elleth’s silvery orbs. His eyes casted across her bruises and cuts at the hands of her evil abusive ‘lover’. “I’m sorry she does this to you.”

“You have to save me,” Eledhwen whispered. “Please, I beg of you, Hugh. Take me away.”

Hugh’s eyes filled with tears. “IAHF can never be your home, though. It’s too far removed from Arda.”

“Anything is better than going back to her,” sobbed Eledhwen. “You must save me.”

Mr Hugh nods, eyes silent. “I will,” he agrees, and leans in to kiss her.

Eledhwen leaned up into the kiss, opening her mouth to his probing tongue as they deepened it, made it more and more passionate. She moaned into his mouth, her breath a soft whisper against his, and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.

“Thank you,” she breathed when they broke apart. She pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, and more along his jawline. “Thank you so much.”

“I love you,” he replied.


“They’re writing fanfiction about us again,” Christianne groaned as she slammed the sheaf of papers onto Eledhwen’s bed. Eledhwen looked up, blinking wildly.

“Fanfiction about us?” she echoed. “Wait, no, I thought…”

“That the authoress writing about you and Lori was done? Nope.” Christianne cackled. “She ships you with Mr Hugh now, too.”

The elleth gaped. “That’s preposterous,” she said.

“I know,” agreed Christianne. “He’s still hung over whats-her-face, Takara. Stockholm Syndrome much?”

Eledhwen laughed. “She did turn out okay in the end,” she pointed out, before picking up the papers and beginning to read.


Eledhwen started kissing Hugh’s neck more and more, her kisses getting sloppier and sloppier in her haste. They’d started out nice and orderly but now they were wild, passionate; she was lost in her desperation to escape her demons and the demon she had once called her friend.

“Are you sure about this?” Mr Hugh asked, one finger running along th eelleths pointed ear.

“Absolutely,” Eledhwen breathed, kissing the course coodrinatr of IAHF firmly on the mouth once more, pushing him back towards the window as outside the rain began to fall more and more steadily. “Make love to me. Make me forget.”

“I will,” agreed Hugh, tugging at his sweatervest.


“Eru,” whistled Eledhwen, staring at the papers in morbid fascination. “Lilith Wydenbrooke hates you.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Christianne sat down on the bed next to her partner; Eledhwen’s brows furrowed as she did so. “Apparently I abuse you half to hell; sitting on your bed’s the least I can do.”

“Preposterous,” declared the elleth, as if it was a new word and she wanted to use it as much as possible. “You’d sooner abuse someone who even looked the wrong way at me.”

“I’m not that defensive.”

“That boy at MBSFA – wasn’t his name Alan Cablen? – Well, he’d certainly beg to differ.”

“Yes, well,” Christianne coughed, shifting uncomfortably, “he’s just an idiot who was trying to touch your ears.”

Eledhwen huffed, and returned to the story.


Mr Hugh pushed Eledwhen up against the window more insistently now, tugging lightly at her bottom lip with his teeth, his own fingers fumbling with his trousers; he was already –


Eledhwen made a disgusted noise at the back of her throat. “Tasteless descriptions about our states of arousal, more tasteless description, more urple prose, more comparing my nether regions to secret hollows and wells of purity and…” she turned a faint shade of chartreuse at the next segment. “Yavanna’s fruits!”

“What?” Christianne demanded, peering over her partner’s shoulder.

“She compares… compares his… to a… to a…” Eledhwen’s hands were shaking. “I refuse to read this.”

“Skip it,” Christianne consoled. Eledhwen sighed, and turned the page.


“Have you done this before?” asked Mr Hugh. Eledhwen shook her head.

“Well, with Christianne, but that was rape so it’s not legitimate,” Eledhwen sniffed. “And besides she’s a girl it doesn’t count.”


“I should’ve been fading, then, if that were the case,” Eledhwen growled at the paper.

“As non-consensual as whatever happened to you in this fic was, you’re still not a virgin,” Christianne added. “Not that I give a toss about that. Virginity’s a concept.”


“She didn’t put anything in you right?”


“Then you’re still a virgin.”


Christianne slammed her palm against her forehead. Repeatedly. With brutal force. Eledhwen caught her by the wrist before she could do it again, and for a moment they simply paused and looked at each other.

“Don’t harm yourself,” Eledhwen said after a moment.

Christianne looked like she was about to argue about what exactly should constitute ‘legitimate’ sex, but thought better of it. She sighed, subsiding.

Neither of them pulled their hands away.


Embolded, Hugh kissed Eledhwen again as she wrapped her legs around him, positioning herself for his –


“I will skip ahead,” Eledhwen declared, clutching at the paper so tightly that her knuckles shone white. “You don’t mind?”

“Go on,” Christianne agreed, squeezing Eledhwen’s hand reassuringly. The elleth turned several pages, skimming over the words with a nauseated expression on her face.

“It’s not a muscle; even I know that,” she grumbled.


“He broke through her virginal muscle with a smooth thrust,” Eledhwen read, grimacing. Christianne cringed.



Christianne bit her lip. “Wait, what did you mean by ‘even I know that’?” she asked.

Eledhwen shrugged. “Elves do not indulge in carnal pleasures, for doing so would bind them to each other in a bond much like that of marriage. Indeed, such an act –”

“Plain English, please.”

“Sex equals marriage.”

“Ah. So you
are a virgin.”

“Does it matter?”

Christianne shrugged. “No.”


Eledhwen threw back her head and moaned aloud as she climaxed, star bursting behind her eyes. A single tear slid down her cheek once more; Hugh kissed it away, lips feather-light against her pale skin as he followed with a groan, spilling himself inside her.

“I love you,” breathed Eledhwen, her arms going about Hugh’s neck as she kissed him desperately, as if she wanted to breathe him into her and keep him next to her heart. Hugh kissed her back, arms going around her delicate waist, strong and protective.


“The maudlin post-coital cuddling goes on for pages,” complained Christianne, looking ahead.

“Yes, but that’s all there is, isn’t there?” Eledhwen skipped ahead as well. “Yes, that’s all there is, thank Elbereth.”

“It’s funny how Lilith seems to be the only one who doesn’t want to see us together. Judging by the writings of some of the other fanbrats in FanficWorld…” Christianne rolled her eyes. “Lori wasn’t kidding about the pool, was she?”

“I doubt it,” Eledhwen replied, looking at Christianne as she set the fic down on the bed next to them. “Those… fanbrats… function under the rationale that because we work in the BBC Sherlock fandom –”

“We should make like John and Sherlock and just kiss already,” finished Christianne. “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

Eledhwen snorted. “A likely occurrence, given your decidedly straightforward statement about your heterosexuality. I won’t press.”

Christianne looked down at their hands, at their entwined fingers. “I don’t think so,” she said after a moment. “I can make exceptions.”

Eledhwen laughed. “Whatever you’d like,” she replied, smiling at her partner. The fanfic lay to the side, long forgotten.

OMG ur storys r so sad and romantic. i luv ellie so much, its bad that u got hackd and the hacer mad her meen. u shud rit mor. <3 <3 <3 is the best.
I really like your story. its so stouching.
Yes, quite. I am writing these reviews becauze I have nothing else to do.

Reading all of this dreadful ideas is giving me a real headache. Why is it that people can't spellcheque anymore? Its not difficult.
Troll or no troll you're account security is lamentable.

I'll tell you what: the next time your banging your head against you're keyboard to write this pitiful excuse for a fanfic, go to you're profile settings, click on "change password" and continue headbanging, you mewling guts-griping puttock!

I weep for the litteracy rates of our generation. Its pathetic.
Lilith Wydenbrooke
Loser, that's the point! The italicised parts aren't mine some stupid troll put them in!
That's your fault. Not only do you write these repulsive hurt/comfort stories, you also have to shift the focus of the narrative with these incessant italysized sections where two bit characters comment on the action like some srt of failed MST.

You also have the worst account security Ive ever seen. Its like you're password is "12345" or "Eledhwenizawesum". My cat walking across my keyboard probably produces a better password than whatever you're using.

At least you seem to have a handle on proper grammer.

(1*10^-99)/10 for your efforts.
Lilith Wydenbrooke
oh no! Someone hacked my story again! I'm so sorry!