When Muses Attack!

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A/N: Yes, Naira, he can be quite intimidating and very possessive. Not so much jealous. His thinking is "what's mine is MINE, dammit! And no one is going to take it away!" But it's part of what makes him so sexy.

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“Ya know, cupcake, it’s not really nice to torment my – er - YOUR readers like that,” I say to him after work one day. He’s sitting outside on the balcony, enjoying the first warm day of the year. I pull up a lawn chair next to him.

He casts a sideways glance at me then grunts softly acknowledging my existence.

“I mean it’s one thing to jerk my chain. It’s an entirely different matter to jerk THEIR chains,” I warn him gently.

“I am not ‘jerking’ any ‘chains’,” he sniffs.

“Then why are you doing this? Why did you say that you have to leave middle earth?” I demand.

“Because I do,” he replies softly, finally turning to look at me.

The sunlight catching his eyes and shining on his hair nearly takes my breath away. He smiles wickedly at the stunned expression on my face. Deliberately he adjusts himself in the chair to give me a better “view” of his “finer points”.

I scowl. “Shut up!” I snap at him although he’s not said a word. He doesn’t have to – that look says it all.

“Are you going to tell me the truth or not?” I demand. Sometimes I wish he WERE corporeal so I could smack the piss out of him. Just once.

He sighs and stops posing when he finally realizes I’m not going to pay any attention to him. You’d think he’d know me better by now but apparently he does not. Or he just doesn’t care.

“I have told you the truth. I have to leave middle earth,” he says.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because it is time. I have heard the call,” he explains. “We have discussed this before.”

“Yes, I know but why did you hear the call?” I press. I want an answer and “because” just doesn’t cut it.

He grunts. “I do not know why I was called. It was time. Why must you question me in circles when I have no answers for you?” He frowns.

I sigh and lean back in my chair, staring at the sky. “They are not happy,” I say softly. “Not happy at all. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Silence. I turn my head to look at him. He is grinning like a fool. I close my eyes and groan. I’ve done it now.

“Show me their words,” he demands, rising from his chair and grabbing my arm.

I groan again and open my eyes. He’s tugging on my arm. Reluctantly, I get up and show him what he wants. I know I’m going to have to listen to his puffery for the next – well, God only knows how long. Judging by the grin on his face it’s going to be a very long time.

I can almost see him swelling up and feel him inflating with each review. I shake my head and grunt in disgust at him. It’s almost comical but oddly sexy, too. I must be losing my mind!

“They don’t want me to leave,” he smirks in satisfaction. “They want more ‘hawt’ sex, I think!”

I snort derisively. His single-minded purpose boggles even MY cynical mind.

“Perhaps it is your charming personality they would miss, instead?” I ask sweetly.

He scoffs. I guess the sarcasm was totally lost on him.

“Annowe and I still have to make it to the Gray Havens,” he murmurs excitedly. “That leaves plenty of time for more ‘hawt’ sex.”

“Dude, no,” I say, getting up from the computer to flop down on the couch.

He scowls and folds his arms across his chest, unhappy with my answer.

Obviously I’m going to have to spell it out for him. “Don’t you think she’d be just as upset as my – uh – your readers at the thought of you leaving? Especially since she’s so desperate to get to Legolas and now you’ve screwed that whole plan up by declaring that you have to go home?” I remind him.

He grunts and considers this for a moment. We eye each other over the coffee table.

“It’s always Legolas,” he scowls, pouting slightly. “Why Legolas? Why not me?”

“She loves Legolas. She would move heaven hell and earth to get to him,” I explaining it. Maybe I should relate that to sex somehow for him to totally “get it”.

“And Legolas loves her” He muses.

“Yes,” I say. “He’s not quite as dramatic about it as she is but it’s there just the same.”

Mr. Wicked grunts.

“Who loves me?” He asks softly. The question catches me completely off guard.

“Are you serious?” I laugh. I can’t help it. What the fuck is he thinking? “Besides yourself?”

The look he gives me is pure evil. I guess I must’ve hit pretty close to home or he was serious. I stop laughing immediately and clear my throat at his look.

“Sorry, dude, I thought you were kidding,” I say lamely. He glares at me and tosses his flaxen head petulantly. I sigh. “Did you not read those reviews? You’re gathering up all sorts of swooning women – and maybe even men for all I know – and you’ve got the cajones to ask me who loves you?”

Slowly the smile begins to return to his face. “Perhaps I should visit them. They would be pleased to have me,” he points out. “Unlike you or Annowe. You don’t pay enough attention to me, always worried about work or some such and Annowe loves Legolas.”

I sigh. “I said I was sorry,” I repeat. He can’t leave without the rest of this being written. Not that I think he will but it’s almost over and I’m getting anxious.

“Say it again,” he demands, sitting next to me on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” I dutifully repeat and look him in the eye. And I really am. I didn’t mean to be so brutal with him. For all his puffery he is very sensitive.

He studies me for a minute and I can see myself there in his eyes. I lean forward to get a better look. It’s weird. I never noticed how large his pupils were before. And the color – it is quite lovely. Mostly blue with only a touch of green but dark. He has dark smoky gray eyes. And his eyelashes are dark and thick. Of course he has thick eyelashes, he’s supposed to be perfect, isn’t he?

He leans closer to me and tilts his head. “What do you see?” He whispers curiously. It is unlike me to stare at him for so long of my own accord. Usually I’m studying him for writing purposes – like the empirically minded being I am but not now. Now I am looking at him for sheer pleasure. He’ll become insufferable later because of it, of that I am certain but it doesn’t concern me now.

“The color of your eyes,” I say softly, unable to look away. “It is very pretty. Dark and moody. Like your soul I think.”

A flicker of a smile crosses his face and suddenly his lips are on mine. I gasp in surprise and jerk back instinctively, clutching my chest as my heart races. That was not what I had expected at all. Serves me right for being stupid I guess.

“What’d you do that for?” I breathe, still grasping my chest. “You trying to kill me?”

He chuckles horridly. “Do you think it would be that pleasurable, then? To kiss me?”

I scowl evilly at him. “No. Not die from pleasure. Die from horror!” I spit. The bastard is so full of himself it’s disgusting.

He actually laughs out loud at this and it is a very warm and rich sound. Probably like Santa Claus would have laughed if he had been nefarious. I turn my head in loathing away from him but he intends to make me fully pay for my earlier insult.

“Come now, Mel,” he purrs, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. “Would it be that horrible to kiss me?”

I sigh heavily and fold my arms across my chest defiantly, still refusing to look at him. “No, but it wouldn’t be pleasurable enough to die from, either.”

The deep chuckle again. “I cannot understand you. You are a strange creature,” he murmurs softly to me, continuing to rub my cheek. “You know others desire me while I am here with you and yet you do nothing to endear yourself to me.”

I snort and pull my head away. “You’re here with me because you want me to write your sordid story. You chose ME – not the other way around, bub,” I remind him. “It’s not for me to keep you at all.”

He sighs and leans back on the couch, dropping his hand to his side. “You think too much,” he murmurs. “Anyone else would not care why. They would just enjoy my presence and all I have to offer.”

I laugh sharply. “You’re probably right,” I agree. “So why are you so determined to get into my pants, then?”

Silence. I watch him closely, gauging his reaction. His eyes narrow at me but he doesn’t answer. How can I resist pressing the matter? I can’t.

“I mean, we both know that there are several people who would just love for you to pay them a visit,” I smile. “And they would be more than happy to indulge in ‘all you have to offer’. There must be a reason you haven’t left me.”

He sighs. “Indeed. I cannot leave until the story is complete,” he admits.

“So we’re stuck with each other,” I say.

“Therefore we should make it as enjoyable as possible, yes?” He purrs reaching out to squeeze my thigh. I look at him and shake my head in disbelief. He is completely beyond redemption.

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