Title & Chapter Number: Legends 2/16
Author(s): - Author's Index
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: This world and its creatures belong to J.R.R Tolkien, New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson. I've just bullied my way in long enough to right a wrong. You know the one I mean. (Haldir deserves better…) I receive no financial compensation for the following tale. I "do this for love."
Warnings: Explicit het sex; a few slashy references
Betas: Telbeth the Indefatigable
Cast: Haldir/OCF (a Maia, no less!); Rumil, Orophin, Galadriel, Celeborn, Aragorn, and a few original critter characterizations
Timeline: 3rd Age of Middle Earth during the War of the Rings -After the visit of the Fellowship to Lothlorien through the Battle at Helm's Deep
Spoilers: None
Summary: During a border patrol, Haldir discovers a lone Nazgul horse and a strange visitor with an annoying attitude and some very spooky skills. Things unfold deliciously until a deception and a surfeit of pride cause them to separate. They are re-united at Helm's Deep with an entirely different outcome, of course. Horses and dragons and crows…oh, my!
Notes: Dedication - Hennaid to my friend Sulien for nagging me into this romp and forcing me to learn Sindarin (well, pidgin Sindarin); to Craig Parker for gifting us with his interpretation of Haldir, and to my amazing husband for being…well…amazing!
Sunlight was a dappled memory in the treetops when the female finally roused from her nap. She felt more rested than she had for many days and her feet were tingling pleasantly under a coat of fragrant green muck. She sat up to inspect them closely. The angry punctures and scrapes were already sealing up. This Elf had healing powers of his own….She flexed one foot then the other, then rolled over onto her knees and crawled to the edge of the flet.
On the ground directly below her lay a neat pile of nails and horseshoes. She searched for the Guardian and the horse and found them standing knee deep in the pool. The black was whiffling at the Elf's hair while he inspected one of the beast's wounded forefeet.
Her grip on the smooth planks tightened involuntarily when she realized the Guardian was naked, spectacularly naked. While she watched, he led his new charge deeper into the pool until water lapped at both of their bellies and the black's tail fanned out on the surface. Her mouth fell open when Haldir pulled himself astride the horse and began to splash water over his withers and neck. The black answered this new experience by snaking his head back to lip the Elf's leg. Haldir gave his muzzle a good-natured shove and continued rinsing the dust and muck from his coat.
The female settled down on her stomach with her head propped on crossed arms and drank in the tableau. The Guardian's skin glowed pale gold against the newly gleaming jet of the horse's coat. They fit together like a fine sculpture…two-pieces-that-are-one…A serendipitous pairing of dark and light, her horse and her Elf…
Her head snapped up. 'Her horse and her Elf'…? What thoughts were these? No creature belonged to her. Not to keep! Just to heal, only to heal.
Haldir had turned the black to swim him into the deepest part of the pool, but caught her movement in the corner of his eye. He leaned over to direct the horse back toward shore, and the female was afforded the erotic vista of the parting of firm buttocks, the dusky furrow between and a hint of rounded sacs pressed against the horse's broad back.
By the Valar, this was too much. One day in his presence and already he pulled at her like an ocean tide. The urge to join this Elf in the water was almost painful. She wanted to splash him and tweak his pride, then make him laugh. She wanted to tussle with him and ruffle those sleek locks until they hung wildly about his shoulders. And she wanted to touch him in all those secret, shadowy places…
…Too much. These feelings must not become attachment. It would not do. She closed her eyes tight.
~*~*~*~
After Haldir had dressed and rubbed the black down with handfuls of sweet, dry grass, he rejoined the female on the flet. She was propped up against the tree trunk, arms crossed, chin tilted militantly.
"You promised food," she intoned. "'Bathed, FED and rested', you said."
"And so you shall be, "Haldir remarked mildly, assessing the sharp edge forming on his charge. "You slept well?" he inquired, while rummaging in his pack.
"Well enough despite the two of you splashing around like fools not a pond's width away," she snapped.
Haldir stole a glance at her beneath impossibly long lashes. She had just delivered her longest speech to date, and it had been designed to offend. She was trying to create distance between them. This he would not allow. He had not finished his study of her yet. He would not be chased away by a scold over a noisy bath.
"If you are not civil, I shall not feed you," the Guardian warned in a carefully neutral voice.
"Will feed myself, then," she flared and pushed herself to her feet. As quickly, the Elf scooped her up against his chest. He was becoming dangerously fond of this sparring - and of capturing this disheveled armful in his grasp.
"No. You will be civil," he corrected, and settled to the floor with the female secured in his lap. "Here, drink this. It will improve your health and your temper."
He pressed a horn flask against her lips. She opened her mouth to retort and found herself swallowing a draught of tasty Elven broth.
"There, you see? Already you have less to say and more to enjoy," Haldir teased, tipping the flask to her mouth again to staunch the expected retort.
Suddenly, she stiffened and twisted her head away. "Visitors," she whispered. Haldir calmly tipped her face back toward him and was trickling more broth between her lips when his brother Rumil appeared in the hatchway.
"Haldir, there is a big, black horse at the foot of…Ho, brother. Is our timing amiss?" The Elf sighted down his blade straight nose at the female inhabiting his brother's lap.
The female stared back, wondering if all Lothlorien Elves were as stunning as these two. Her thoughts were partially answered when Rumil moved onto the flet to make room in the hatchway for the equally stunning Orophin. The third Elf eyed the female in Haldir's lap and indulged in the faintest of smiles.
"This explains why we could not find you on patrol, brother. A powerful distraction, you have. Had we been Orcs, you would be dead."
"Had you been Orcs, that 'big, black horse' would have kicked you to Udun," Haldir retorted. "And if you are both here, who has your patrols?" This last remark was delivered in a smoothly ominous tone that the brothers immediately recognized as an invitation to resume their duties.
"Good evening to you and your lady," Orophin said politely as he sank back through the hatch. Rumil slid one last glance toward the pair before following his brother.
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