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Summary: Haldir presses his luck with Galadriel and finds himself out on a limb.
~*~
Haldir thundered up the stairs to the royal talan in the throes of a blind rage. Rages were nothing new to him, and the off-duty guards who happened to stand between him and the focus of his ire knew to leap out of harm’s way lest they be trampled underfoot. So legendary were his fits of anger that they had obtained a descriptor all their own. Nobody could quite remember when the term, “having a Haldir” was first coined, or to whom the witty remark could be attributed, but it stuck like tree sap to the bottom of a riding boot. Haldir detested it, which of course, made it all the more fun to use.
“Elbereth! He’s having a Haldir!”
Warning cries rained down from the golden treetops as he ascended the spiraling staircase of the royal talan, and by the time his boot hit the top step, a pair of armed guards stood stiffly between him and the shuttered entrance to Lady Galadriel’s suite.
“Stand aside,” Haldir snarled. “She has gone too far this time!”
The guards exchanged a nervous glance before the one on the right offered a shaky reply. “Sir, we have been specifically instructed not to let anyone through unless they know the password given directly from the Lady herself.”
Haldir’s eyes narrowed until they were tiny slits of fury under his furrowed brows. “Move.”
“Erm…well, we could move if you knew the correct password…”
“NOW!!” bellowed Haldir.
“That would be the one,” cried the guard as he dove for cover. The other Elf froze like a frightened rabbit until Haldir shoved him out of the way with a meaty hand.
It could be called insubordination to burst into his Lady’s talan unannounced and demanding an audience. Haldir could not have cared less. He blew into the room in a gale force of blustery wrath. If Galadriel had the gall to fire him after everything she had put him through, then so be it. He would find another job, even if it meant mucking out stables in Rivendell, but he would not stand idly by while she made a mockery of his guards.
Because of his fury, he needed a moment to fully register the decidedly peculiar scene currently under production in Lady Galadriel’s sitting room. On the chaise lounge next to the window lay the Lady herself, sprawled out like a cat in the sunshine, while several of Lorien’s finest soldiers huddled in a cluster next to her feet. Two of the guards engaged a third in a vigorous debate on the pros and cons of red nail polish. Haldir’s Lt. Commander busied himself massaging linseed oil into her calves, while his own brother, Orophin, sawed away at her toenails with an emery board.
Haldir was appalled. “What is the meaning of this?! Have you no shame?!” He already knew the answer to that question, but he asked it anyway.
Orophin’s head snapped up at the sound of Haldir’s voice, and his hand froze mid-scrape. “Haldir,” he squeaked, suddenly quite embarrassed that he’d been caught. “I…um…”
“Darling, that question was for me,” cooed Galadriel from her perch on the sofa. “When it comes to handsome soldiers, I have absolutely no shame. None. Besides, the war is over. What evil beasts are there left to fight? Rabid squirrels?”
“These are MY soldiers! They’re highly trained warriors, meant to be out patrolling the borders and protecting Lorien from Orcs, and you have them up here giving you a pedicure!” cried Haldir.
“It could be worse,” noted a voice behind Haldir. “Last week it was a bikini wax.”
Haldir spun around to see his other brother, Rumil, standing behind him. At first glance, Rumil seemed perfectly normal. The second glance revealed, however, that each toe of his bare feet was painted a different shade of red. Rumil wiggled them playfully.
“Oh, yes! That was fun, wasn’t it? I especially enjoyed the group bubble bath afterward,” Galadriel chirped. She arched her foot toward Orophin and he promptly responded, sending a cloud of toenail dust upward as he resumed filing duty.
Haldir’s face flushed bright with anger. “This is an outrage!! You’ve taken an elite guard and reduced them to little more than a flock of uniformed servants who come at your beck and call! And what’s more, I cannot believe that Lord Celeborn allows this sort of behavior in his kingdom!! The moment he walks through that door, I will tell him all about the shameful demands you make of the Galadhrim! He’ll certainly put an end to this foolishness,” he cried. “Or, have you already emasculated him, as the rumor goes? If I searched your dressing table, would I find his testicles nestled in a satin box?!”
A deadly silence dropped over the sitting room, shrouding it with impending doom. The guards held their breath. Though it had long been rumored that Lady Galadriel had Lord Celeborn on a short leash, no Elf had ever said such things aloud, and certainly not in such crude language.
“Haldir, Marchwarden of Lorien, you have overstepped your authority,” Galadriel began. Though her words were calm, the first undercurrents of anger tinged her voice with darkness that caused the guards at her feet to tremble with fright. She rose slowly to her feet, raised her arms and transformed into a vision of terrible beauty. “I will not tolerate your insults!”
Haldir was unimpressed. He’d seen her magical sideshow act more than once. Perhaps glowing eyes and windswept hair scared lesser Elves, but he’d faced down howling Wargs and sword wielding Orcs. Not much frightened him anymore, especially not a barefoot Galadriel with a poor excuse for a pedicure. He folded his arms over his chest, cocked one eyebrow and gave her his best glare.
Perhaps it was Haldir’s cavalier disdain that spurred her to action. Perhaps it was the cowering guards who crouched at her feet. Perhaps it was the accusation that Lord Celeborn’s balls were in the sock drawer. Regardless of the provocation, Galadriel’s reaction was nothing short of spectacular. With a wild shriek and an emphatic point of her finger, Galadriel hit Haldir squarely in his chest with a jolt of energy and cried, “Be gone from my presence, Haldir, until you learn humility!!”
The blast knocked Haldir clean off his feet, and for a few moments, his vision went black. Wind howled past his ears. Icy fingers clawed at his skin. He felt as if he were flying upward…and then hurtling to the ground with a sickening rush. It all ended when he landed on his back with a thud, and he simply lay where he was for a few moments, unwilling to do so much as open his eyes. In fact, he would have lain there indefinitely if not for a familiar voice from above that startled him out of his stupor.
“I see someone else has pissed off my beautiful bride. Ah, well. Misery loves company, especially naked company.”
Haldir’s eyes popped open and he sat bolt upright in surprise. Naked? A quick glance downward proved that statement true, and he covered himself as best he could with his hands.
“Don’t bother, Haldir. It’s not like I haven’t been appreciating your obvious charms for well over five minutes. Besides, you and I are in the same condition. Why don’t you climb up here and join me?”
Shielding his eyes with a hand, Haldir peered up into the tree under which he had been deposited. Perched among the branches sat Lord Celeborn himself, wearing nothing but a smile…and a fully functional set of testicles. So much for rumors.
“How did you…I mean, why are you…”
“…sitting naked in a tree?” Celeborn finished with a chuckle. “Apparently, for the same reason you are sitting naked under a tree. I angered my lovely wife, and she hurled me out here to the far edge of Lorien, nude as the day I was born.”
Haldir squinted up at Celeborn in disbelief. “She has done this before, I take it.”
“Oh, yes. Once a month, every month, for the past six months” Celeborn said, counting on his fingers as he spoke. “I should have seen it coming. Next time I will know better than to suggest she not eat a second piece of chocolate.”
“Wonderful,” muttered Haldir. He slumped back against the tree and sighed loudly. “What do we do now? It’s too far to walk all the way back into the center of the Golden Wood.”
Celeborn sprawled out on the limb like a lazy cat. “I suggest you join me up here on the branch. It would be a shame if a random Elf were to happen upon you in your current state of undress. And we all know how fast gossip travels.”
That much was true. A juicy nugget of gossip traveled through Lorien faster than a flaming arrow. If word got out that he, the Marchwarden of Lorien, were traipsing about the borders in the altogether, his reputation would be utterly ruined. Reluctantly, Haldir stood and began the slow ascent up the tree. As he climbed, the branches bent and swayed precariously. If the limbs bent under the weight of just one Elf, how could a single branch possibly hold both of them? He paused and asked Celeborn, “Where exactly on that limb am I to sit? There isn’t room for two Elves.”
The blond lord leaned back against the tree trunk, spread his legs and gestured to the spot right between them. “Sure there is. Sit right here. The limb is more than strong enough to hold us both,” said Celeborn, with only a tiny hint of smirk. “Of course, if you are afraid of heights, I certainly understand. Many Elves are, you know.
Haldir paled, caught between apprehension and pride. He certainly could not admit that the thought of snuggling up to a naked Celeborn scared him far more than perching on a wobbly tree limb. So, he gritted his teeth and scrambled up to the spot in front of Celeborn.
Immediately, strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him firmly back against a solid, muscular chest. Haldir gasped aloud, which caused Celeborn to chuckle.
“For an Elf who seems so sure of himself, you suddenly are acting like a maiden on the eve of her wedding,” mused Celeborn, leaning forward to rest his chin on Haldir’s shoulder.
“I am not,” denied Haldir, even as a tremor of nervous anticipation raced up his spine. “I’m simply uncomfortable and cold and…ooohhhh…”
Celeborn’s free hand wandered lazily up Haldir’s torso, skimming over taut muscles and rounded curves until it found a peaked nipple, which it rolled gently until it hardened beneath his touch. “You don’t seem cold to me,” Celeborn purred against Haldir’s flushed cheek. “In fact, you’re warming up quite nicely.”
Haldir squirmed under Celeborn’s increasingly bold caresses, wriggling about so that his bottom brushed teasingly against Celeborn’s rising interest. This time it was Celeborn’s turn to groan. His grip on Haldir’s waist tightened, and he rubbed himself wantonly against Haldir’s firm backside.
“Such a sensual Elf you are, Haldir. I had long suspected that one so given to such fiery anger would be equally as passionate under different circumstances,” breathed Celeborn into Haldir’s pointed ear. His hands grew bolder, straying between Haldir’s splayed legs and stroking his strong thighs. Haldir’s body responded eagerly, stiffening with anticipation and quivering with delight. “Hmm…let’s see if I can ‘have a Haldir’ myself…”
Haldir’s mind, unlike his body, raced with half-crazed panic. “No…no, we cannot! The Lady will make both of us eunuchs and ship us off to sing soprano in the Rivendell choir!”
“Haven’t you heard? My testicles are detachable, and Galadriel stores them in a box next to the bed. I wear them on an as-needed basis,” quipped Celeborn as his hand snaked lower still to curl around Haldir’s tightening flesh. “It’s a good thing, then, that I thought to ask her for them this morning. Otherwise, I’d be unable to fully appreciate you in the manner you so rightly deserve.”
The evidence of Celeborn’s desire pressed against Haldir’s bottom as a not-so-subtle reminder of exactly how much the Elf really did appreciate him. Haldir groaned and rocked his own rising interest into Celeborn’s smooth hand. He had not been fully appreciated in a long, long time.
Appreciation soon escalated into mutual admiration as Haldir reached behind him and fumbled to stroke Celeborn’s substantial length. “Whoever said that you were an unappreciative jerk was sorely mistaken,” Celeborn said with marked admiration. Moments later, Haldir found he had an even more precarious perch atop Lord Celeborn’s lap.
At first, their movements were slow and unsteady, but as their enthusiasm increased, so did the vigorous nature of their coupling. The tree showered leaves down to the ground below, sending more than a few squirrels scurrying for cover. In the branches above them, a blue jay squawked his displeasure. Celeborn did not care. He threw back his head, rolled his hips and howled his deeply rooted appreciation for Haldir at the top of his lungs.
A few moments later, Haldir lay back against Celeborn’s chest in a post-coital daze. “You’re a complicated Elf, Lord Celeborn,” said Haldir as he snuggled back into his lover’s arms. “You mastered me with ease, yet you allow Galadriel to do exactly as she pleases. I find that odd.”
“And what makes you think that she does as she pleases? Haldir, a good marriage is based on compromise. I allow her to frolic with the Galadhrim and she lets me have the occasional forest romp. It’s a win-win situation,” Celeborn replied, with a nuzzle to Haldir’s earlobe for added emphasis.
Haldir whipped his head around to stare at Celeborn in slackjawed shock. “Then, you and she planned this from the start?!”
Celeborn chuckled and nodded his head. “Oh, absolutely. We had an agreement. She wanted you out of the way. I wanted you any way I could get you. As it turns out, it was naked, in a treetop.”
For quite possibly the first time ever, Haldir was speechless. It was all just a scheme to get him out of Galadriel’s way and into Celeborn’s arms? He wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or offended, so he crossed his arms over his chest and settled for mildly annoyed.
“Don’t pout, Blossom,” Celeborn cooed as soothingly as he could manage while stroking Haldir’s arms. “We went through all of this effort just for you. And, really…didn’t you enjoy being appreciated?”
Haldir blushed and tried not to smile. “Well, maybe just a little bit. But that doesn’t mean this should be a regular thing. Once is enough.”
“Of course,” Celeborn replied. “Absolutely. No need for another meeting. Except, on the off-chance that she tosses me out on my ear next month, as she is prone to do.”
His interest piqued, Haldir half-turned his head to glance over his shoulder at Lord Celeborn. “Oh, that is a shame. I suppose my brothers will be summoned to her talan to pluck her eyebrows, and I will be forced to charge in and defend their honor.”
“She’ll fling you to the far regions of the northern border, if you do that. Tragedy. It would be even more tragic if I were already there, waiting for you by the river.”
Haldir could not help but chuckle. “I agree. It would be a shame. We’ll be forced to tolerate the wilds until she sees fit to bring us back home again.”
Celeborn nodded and made a mental note to specifically request that she toss them into the “wilds” of the cabin near the river.
“So…how do we get back home?” asked Haldir. The tree branch was rapidly losing its appeal.
“Once her pedicure is over, she will transport us back to the talan, unless you really did make a reckless comment about her keeping my testicles in a drawer. Then, we may be better off sleeping under the stars.”
Haldir swallowed hard and recalled with aching clarity the barrage of pointed insults he’d hurled at her in a fit of anger. Maybe the tree limb wasn’t so bad after all.
~*~
The End