ELANOR'S REVENGE

Chapter Two

Haldir stretched out on his bed, crossed his ankles, and threw his arm over his eyes with a heavy sigh. Ever since last night, he had been in a vile mood.

It had been a long time since a maiden had attracted him as much as this unknown elleth had done. He had recognized her at once; she was the one he had seen in the courtyard two years ago, the one who had so often fluttered through his thoughts during those lonely nights on watch at Lothlórien’s border. And for a few seconds last night, he thought the Valar had smiled upon him and sent her into the garden just so they could meet.

Instead, he had been insulted, sneered at, harassed, and rejected. He had even had his hair pulled! And for what reason? None! He had never met her, never spoken to her. She was raving mad, completely insane. Just his luck. The only redeeming aspect of the entire episode was that when he had kissed her, she had kissed him back. Fleetingly. Before she had attacked his hair.

He scowled, wondering why, despite all this, he still had half a mind to pursue her. Only rarely did he go to such trouble; the maidens usually came to him willingly. The inclination to go to such effort had not moved him in a long time, however, he had to admit that along with his acute displeasure and annoyance, he was intrigued by this maiden. That kiss lingered in his mind, nudging him to do something about it, and about her and her strange misconceptions.

Who was she? And what had motivated her to behave as she had? Did she have him confused with someone else? No, she had spoken his name. Then what in Varda’s name was the meaning of it?

He sighed again. Sometimes he grew weary of visiting Rivendell, despite its exotic beauty that was so different from Lothlórien. His presence was often required for meetings between Galadriel, Celeborn, Lord Elrond, and his various advisors. His presence and no others. He could not even send his brothers in his place. Today had been long and this was the first chance he’d had to rest and gather his thoughts. He was sure it would not last long.

He was right. Not two minutes later, the door flew open and the early spring breeze rushed in to lift a few strands of his hair from where it lay on his pillow. Haldir removed his arm from his eyes and glared at his visitors.

“I do not believe I heard a knock,” he said sardonically, “or a request to enter.”

“Since when do we ever knock?” Rúmil asked, plopping himself down on the edge of the bed.

“Aye, when do you ever knock?” Haldir shot back irritably. “I do not want visitors. I have just returned to my room and would like to rest.” Orophin was leaning out the window, waving cheerfully to someone below.

Rúmil eyed him with a speculative look. “You need no rest; you are only bored. We thought we’d come to cheer you up. You were certainly in the dumps last night. Look, even now Orophin has found some friends. This will be a night to remember.”

Orophin brought his head inside, a smile creasing his face. “Haldir, do you remember Minden and Telrion? I invited them to join us for the evening. They will be here in just a moment.”

Haldir groaned inwardly. He recalled those two all right, but since his brothers had already invited them, there was little to be done. “You give me no choice,” he grumbled as he sat up.

“Why are you so gloomy?” Rúmil asked, looking curious. “You will enjoy the evening, I promise. For once you will be able to relax. Really relax,” he added. Haldir thought he sounded a bit sly.

A knock soon sounded on the door. By this time, Haldir had risen and moved to the table where the remainder of his dinner still sat. He picked up a slice of bread and bit into it as Orophin admitted the two visitors.

Minden smiled and nodded a greeting. “March Warden, it has been awhile since last we met. Since then, I have learned you are quite the wine connoisseur.”

Relaxing slightly, Haldir leaned back in his chair. “I know what I like.”

Telrion smiled. “I am sure you do. We have brought several flasks for you to try. I even borrowed some of Lord Elrond’s special blend. You will want to try it if you have not already.”

Rúmil and Orophin grinned, and the elves pulled up more chairs to the table to settle into some serious drinking and tale-telling.

Haldir sat back, his goblet empty, a warm glow spreading through him that banished much of his former gloom. Perhaps for once his brothers were right. An evening of wine and male company was far preferable than one spent alone, stewing over a reluctant, slightly deranged maiden. Or even an evening with a reluctant maiden, he thought. But if she had not been reluctant . . .

Suddenly, he noticed that his brothers were laughing softly, and for no discernable reason. Orophin was gazing at the flask of wine. “Is there a problem with the wine?” he inquired, watching them closely.

Their heads jerked in his direction. “Nay, Haldir,” Orophin replied, “we were only recalling the last time we drank like this with our good friends Minden and Telrion.” He grinned, winking at the two Rivendell elves. “Do you remember the trouble we got into that night? Or rather, that you got into? Of course, Rúmil and I were only innocent bystanders.”

Haldir yawned and leaned forward to accept a refilled goblet. “I was not with you that night, but I recall hearing the story, if it is the one to do with snipping the end off Erestor’s braid. Thank the Valar I was not there. You four are incorrigible! Speaking of which, why do I feel like you are up to something tonight?”

Rúmil smiled innocently. “Up to something? Us? Ha! Well, likely we shall be up to something later, but we have nothing planned as yet. Perhaps you have an idea?”

Haldir paused in the motion of sipping his wine, studying his two brothers and the two Rivendell elves. Were they truly up to something or was he just imagining it? Perhaps he was overreacting. So often had they played tricks on him that he was now in the habit of expecting it.

“I have no ideas for mischief,” he said, “and if I did, I would not tell you. But I will admit that you were right about my need to relax. Your companionship tonight is most welcome.” Indeed, he felt very good indeed, even a little hopeful regarding the unknown maiden. Perhaps there was a way to straighten out whatever misunderstanding he occurred.

They had started the second flask before Minden had the opportunity to sprinkle the sleeping powder into Haldir’s wine when he left the room to relieve himself. It would take a while before the powder would begin to take effect. Both his brothers knew that Haldir was aware of such drugs and their effects. Would he realize what had been done?

The shadows of night had fallen by the time they left the room. Rúmil sighed, his head fuzzy from trying to keep up with Haldir's drinking. He staggered along next to Haldir and Orophin as they headed down the stone steps toward the river. Though Minden and Telrion had imbibed far less than the Lórien elves, they too were drunk, and were at this moment arguing about the words to a particularly bawdy song, each singing a different version as they lurched along behind the three brothers.

“Haldir,” Rúmil bragged, slurring his words, “you will never outdrink me. I can drink two goblets of wine to every one of yours. We’ve gone through all of Telrion’s wine and I am still not drunk.”

Haldir snorted, noting how unsteadily Rúmil leaned against the stone wall overlooking the river. His brother’s claim was untrue and they all knew it, but it was just like Rúmil to try to argue about it. Still, Haldir rubbed his forehead and frowned, wondering why his vision was so blurry. Their voices seemed distant, echoing strangely in his head.

Orophin dragged his arm from Haldir’s shoulders. “Nay, Rúmil, Haldir can put us both under the table. But this Rivendell wine is good and strong, do you not agree, Haldir?”

Haldir glared at his brothers, a difficult process since his head was so foggy. He shook his head, trying to clear it, then gazed down at the empty goblet that had somehow remained in his hand. He lifted the goblet and sniffed it. “I find this wine yields strange effects,” he mumbled. His vision blurred as he stared at one of the torches that lit a nearby Rivendell street, the flickering flame multiplying into three. He blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “There was something wrong with the wine.”

“Nonsense, you’re imagining things,” Rúmil said. “We can drink another flask when we get to Telrion’s place. How much farther, Telrion?”

Haldir barely heard the reply. He was so groggy he could hardly think, and a moment later, he nearly tripped over Orophin, who appeared to be sliding down a wall to the ground.

Orophin looked up at Haldir with a silly grin. “I do believe I drank more tonight than ever before in my life. I think my feet were once at the end of my legs, but I cannot feel them now. Dear brother Hal, you will have to carry me.”

Haldir reached down to grip his brother’s tunic and haul him to his feet. He braced himself with one hand against the wall, but held onto Orophin’s tunic with the other, drawing his surprised brother close to him.

“What have you done?” he demanded, his voice bleary

“Done?” Orophin giggled. “Nothing, it’s just the wine.”

Haldir did not release Orophin’s tunic, but reached out and gripped Rúmil’s as well. He was losing his balance, something that never happened, even when he was drunk. They had put something into his drink, those bastards!

“You will pay for this, mark my word . . .” He got no further as the drug finally took effect, and he dropped heavily to his knees. He felt his brothers seize his arms just in time to keep him from falling facedown on the cobbled path. And then everything went black.

“By Sauron’s balls, I didn’t think it was ever going to work!” Orophin gasped, pushing the heel of his hand to his temple to curb the swirling. He stared as Telrion, who was crouching down to check Haldir’s pulse.

“Well, it would have been better if we could have gotten him as far as Telrion’s room before this happened.” Rúmil muttered. “Do you realize how heavy he is?”

Orophin groaned in dismay. “Aye, I realize.”

Telrion pushed open the door to his room, stumbling inside along with the others, all four falling into a pile onto the stone floor along with the unconscious March Warden. Rúmil’s knees hurt from the impact, but not very much because he could barely feel anything at all.

“Blessed Elbereth, I didn’t think we’d ever get here,” Minden groaned, pulling the unconscious Haldir off Telrion. Telrion scrambled to his feet, but Orophin and Rúmil both continued to lie on the floor.

“You have no idea how long we will pay for this,” Rúmil told them, his head swirling, the room spinning madly around him. If he could think at all, he might be having second thoughts about all this. But it was too late for that.

“You do realize that Haldir understands exactly what we’ve done to him,” he heard Orophin slur as he attempted and failed to rise to his knees.

Watching his brother, Rúmil uttered a sound that to his own ears sounded like a sick giggle, then turned his attention to Telrion and Minden. “I suggest you two find yourself a duty far from Rivendell before our Haldir wakes,” he told them. With monumental effort, he staggered to his feet, grabbed a chair and heaved himself heavily into it.

“You two can stay here,” Minden said. “Elanor’s home is near. We can get him the rest of the way without your aid.”

Rúmil pushed himself into a standing position. “Nay, we must go with you. Get up, Orophin. We have yet to tell them the rest of our plan.”

Orophin dragged himself to his knees, and then somehow managed to rise to his feet. “Let us get him there first. Then we will explain.”

Elanor paced back and forth along the bridge, bolstering her courage with the memory of Lana’s tears and lamentations. All day she had been forced to listen to Lana’s weeping, her tales of betrayal and heartbreak enough to make Elanor’s face turn white. Never had she seen Lana this distressed over a romantic interest; her poor little sister must truly have cared a great deal for Haldir. Not to mention that Lana had given herself to him! He had taken her heart, and then carelessly tossed away such a precious gift as though it meant nothing.

She had lost count of how many times had she paced this bridge tonight. Where were Telrion and Minden? They should have been able to accomplish the task by now. How difficult could it be? Tilting her head, she gazed upward at the twinkling stars set so perfectly into the night sky by Elbereth herself. The air was balmy, the night sweet, though not as sweet as Elanor’s revenge was going to be.

Just you wait, Haldir of Lórien! You arrogant scoundrel!

She wrapped her arms around herself. What was she going to do with him, once she had him where she wanted him? She didn’t know for certain, but she had a few ideas. Humbling him was the primary goal, along with explaining to him just what his crimes had been and what she thought of him. When done, she would walk away, and later send Telrion or Minden to set him loose. No doubt Haldir would be so glad to be free and so mortified that he would slink off to his own rooms and never speak to any of them again; or tell anyone what happened to him, for that matter.. At least that is what she was hoping.

Oh, dear Elbereth, she wished they would hurry before she lost her courage!

She stiffened suddenly when several shadows separated from the street below, and headed toward her. It was Telrion, Minden and—she gasped with dismay—Rúmil and Orophin, Haldir’s brothers! What were they all doing together? Had the whole plan gone awry? Were they coming here to rebuke her? Or worse?

Whatever the case, she was not about to cower and hide. Raising her chin, she hurried down the path to meet them, noting that Minden had an arm wrapped around Orophin, who looked exceedingly unwell.

Eying the four male elves with suspicion, she stopped a few steps away from them. “What is wrong? What’s happened?”

Minden grinned foolishly. “Nothing yet, dear Elanor. Your package has been delivered per your instructions.”

Elanor looked at Orophin, who seemed to have lost control of his limbs. “What is wrong with him? And all the rest of you?”

“Drunk,” Telrion informed her succinctly. “Drunk, drunk, drunk.”

Orophin enforced Telrion’s statement with a loud hiccup.

Rúmil smiled at her. “Our aid was enlisted, pretty elf.” He seemed to be testing his balance as he tilted his head to study her, then came over and settled a hand on her shoulder. “You do not know what this night will cost us, sweetling. I hope you make it worth your while. I must warn you, Haldir will not be a nice elf when he awakes. You will have to be brave and very persuasive.” He laughed, then belched loudly.

Elanor turned back to Telrion with a disapproving frown. “You sought their help? Why?”

Telrion helped Minden lower Orophin to the ground, where he leaned against the stone wall of the bridge. “No other way to get him to your house, Ellie. What does it matter? He is there, now go and have your fun. He is strong, and will not be long affected by your sleeping powder.” He gave her a peculiar smile, his eyes seeming to dance with inner merriment of some sort. It must be the drink affecting him.

With a short nod, Elanor pressed a hand to her chest, knowing her heart was racing. She turned to go, but paused at the sound of Orophin’s voice. “We left you a surprise, my dear. Make whatever use of it you like while you are able.”

All four of them roared with laughter as she hurried away.

Elanor pushed open the door to her house, listening intently for any sounds within. She heard nothing. Good. He must still be asleep. She closed the door behind her, thankful she did not have to contend with Lana. Lana had mournfully allowed herself to be persuaded to continue with her plans to spend the night at her friend’s house at the other end of Rivendell. This friend was Lana’s only female friend, the only one who seemed willing to put up with her tantrums. Now where did that come from? For shame, Ellie!

Even knowing that Haldir was asleep, she found herself tiptoeing through the parlor and down the hall to the farthest chamber, which was actually her parents’ room. Her mother and father had left three years ago for an extended visit to Mirkwood, and Elanor had been using their room while they were gone since her own was so tiny. Lana had the only other large bedchamber.

Elanor reached the door to the chamber and drew a deep breath, her heart beating furiously in her chest. Never before had she indulged in pranks or jokes the way so many others had. Everyone in Rivendell thought she was dull and serious and quiet, but little did they know what lay beneath. The stillness of her soul hid a deep passion and a fiery lust to experience life, needs she had been suppressing for longer than she cared to remember. And she was nigh to bursting with the desire to break free. It was about time for a prank, if such this could be called. Nay, this was deadly serious. This was well-deserved retribution, she reminded herself as she pushed open the door of her bedchamber.

And nearly died.

Paralyzed with shock, Elanor clutched at the doorframe, her eyes wider than they had ever been in her life. Blessed Elbereth, she was going to kill them, all four of them. Minden and Telrion and Rúmil and Orophin. Kill them, kill them, kill them.

Just as she asked, Haldir of Lórien was tied to the four posts of the bed, his wrists and ankles bound with strong elven rope. They had gotten that part right.

But he was naked. Naked! Not a stitch of clothing! And no gag.

Elanor swallowed hard. Her mind seemed to have stopped functioning. Now she understood the meaning of some of those odd looks and remarks. Haldir’s brothers must be thinking she wanted to . . . to . . . oh! What they must think of her! And Telrion and Minden! Why would they have gone along with this? Perhaps . . . perhaps because once, not too long ago, she had confessed to Telrion that her life was boring. He had told her that, if given the chance, he would help her to liven it up. This would fit his sense of humor, that much was certain.

Now what was she going to do? Run away?

No.

Raising her chin, she entered the room, her gaze drawn to Haldir’s form as though by magic. She couldn’t not look at him! He had a magnificent physique, well-muscled yet sleek, solid yet lean. He was beautifully proportioned, with long, sturdy legs and broad shoulders, his silvery blond hair spread around his head. And still asleep, Eru be praised.

She moved closer, still admiring him. She had never seen a totally naked male elf before, at least not an adult. Of course she knew what male anatomy looked like, but for some reason she had never thought it very interesting. Until this moment. Oh, what was wrong with her? How could she think such thoughts? This was the elf she disliked, nay, abhorred! Still, oh my, he was a handsome elf. She shivered at the sight. What a pity he was so arrogant and coldhearted.

She moved around the bed and sat down in the chair she had left beside it. How long before he awoke? She considered fetching a blanket to cover him, but even as this thought went through her head, she knew, she just knew, that he would mock her for it. She would not give him the satisfaction. To Mordor with his modesty! He likely would not care anyway. And truth be told, this would heighten his punishment to a most satisfying level.

At last she was having an adventure. But where would it end?

Haldir’s head throbbed painfully, a solitary pinpoint of light hurting his eyes even while they remained closed. He knew at once that his brothers had played some kind of trick on him. What had they done this time? He stretched his fingers, finding they tingled oddly, and realized he could not move his wrists. Or his ankles. He was lying on something soft. A cot? No, a bed.

Whose bed? Several possibilities crossed his mind, none good. Was he in Elrond’s palace? The unwelcome thought crossed his mind that it was the bed of that blonde brat, the one with the fluttering eyelashes and amorous fantasies. No, not even his brothers would do that to him.

He lay still, willing away his headache while he assessed the situation. He could feel the air on his chest, his legs. He was tied hand and foot. And he was naked, completely naked. They had drugged him, and done this to him. He was going to kill them.

He did not open his eyes, but used his hearing first. It was quiet, but not silent. He could hear someone breathing, though not evenly. This was good. Whoever it was, he made them nervous. Not one of his brothers, then. The breathing was soft. An elleth?

Haldir cracked open his eyes, just enough to see that it was still night. The room was lit by a single candle. He flexed his wrists.

“The ropes are secure.” It was a low, female voice. Familiar.

Haldir opened his eyes fully, and turned to look at her; and it took all his self-discipline not to betray his shock. It was the maiden from the garden, the lovely lunatic, his dream elleth. Fury swept through him, and he clenched his jaw. She would regret the day she was born.

Elanor rose, trying to ignore the fact that one of the most powerful elves in Arda was trussed up tightly in front of her, completely at her mercy. She slid to the side of the bed, swallowing as the grey eyes fixed on her in a way that made her extremely uncomfortable. He did not seem to notice his nakedness, but she saw the way he flexed his arms, his muscles rippling with the movement. His arms fascinated her, but she tore her gaze away from his muscles and forced herself to look at his face. She could see that he was angry. Good.

“Why am I here?” he asked, his voice hard and slightly raspy. It would be an effect of the sleeping powder.

“I wish to talk to you.” She drew a breath, willing the anger and feelings of betrayal to remain strong. Why did she suddenly feel a twinge of guilt?

“Talk?” He sneered slightly. “Is that what you call it? If you wanted me in your bed, there are easier ways of achieving it.”

“I do not want you in my bed!” she snapped, losing the control she was fighting so hard to maintain. “You are being punished.” She drew back at the flare of fury in his eyes.

“Punished? For what?” His eyes narrowed; his wrists flexed again.

She looked away, trying to recapture her nerve, which wobbled each time she met those penetrating eyes. Frantically, she summoned the memory of Lana’s reddened eyes and heart-wrenching sobs. Remember what Haldir did to Lana, hang on to that. He had behaved dishonorably; he was cruel and heartless and had taken advantage of Lana’s innocence. He needed to be taught a lesson, and—Elanor straightened her spine—she was going to do it.

Resolving to stay strong, she sat down on the edge of the bed, her body angled toward his head and away from his lower body. Very slowly, she reached out and traced her finger up his arm, starting with the bicep, along the inside of his elbow all the way out to his wrist. One long, slow, teasing line using the tip of her finger. It caused a very slight tremor, though she saw him try to hide it.

“How does it feel to have someone toy with you?” she inquired, her tone detached. “Does it trouble you? Annoy you?”

He did not answer. His stony stare drilled into her.

“Do you know who I am?” She turned her gaze to his chest, and cautiously touched him there, in the center. Her hand looked small on that wide expanse of male flesh and sculpted muscle. His skin was warm, and she could feel his heartbeat beneath her palm.

“Yes. You are the insane maiden I met in the garden last night.”

She drew back her hand as though he had bitten her. “I am not insane! I have a legitimate grievance against you, March Warden. And you know very well what it is. I am talking about Lana!”

“Lana?” he scoffed. “I know no one named Lana. I do not even know you.”

“You lie,” she shot back, and saw the muscles in his jaw harden. To accuse him of lying was an extreme measure, yet she felt within her rights. He was lying. He must be.

He lifted his chin, looking incredibly haughty for one in his situation. “You will untie me at once,” he ordered, his voice domineering. “If you obey me, I will go easier on you than I would otherwise.”

“Not a chance,” Elanor said, her mouth curving. “I am the one in charge here. You are going to stay right where you are.” To punish him further, she again placed her hand on his chest, this time being bolder, letting it travel around, making circles, not quite touching his nipples. His face was utterly impassive, she noted. He had a great deal of self-control. How far could she push him?

“Exactly what am I supposed to have done to so offend you?” he asked scathingly.

He shifted his legs slightly, but she did not look around. She touched one of his nipples with her index finger, and was a little shocked to find that it puckered. She withdrew her hand and took a deep breath.

“To me? Why, you have done nothing to me, Haldir of Lórien. It is Lana you have injured. Why do you pretend otherwise?”

Again, he flexed his wrists. “You are making a huge mistake. This is my last warning to you. What is your name?”

“My name is no concern of yours.”

“You will answer my question,” he countered, his voice a cold command.

Elanor’s anger took an upward leap. “You are the most arrogant elf I have ever encountered!” Seeking to discomfit him, she let her gaze slide over his nakedness, slowly and deliberately. He did not seem at all affected, but she felt the color rise in her own cheeks.

“Does my nakedness make you uncomfortable?” he mocked. “Your eyes seem drawn to it.”

Provoked, Elanor glared at him. “You are insolent!”

He actually laughed. “What am I supposed to have done to this Lana, whom I do not know?” He kept his voice level, though he was clearly boiling with anger. Good.

“You hurt her. You are cruel and care nothing for the feelings of others. You play your game with hearts that are tender. You tempt and take advantage. Well, I can play that game too.” In an attempt to prove this, she let her hand slide lower, across the hard plane of his stomach, almost brushing his male member, which was beginning to stir. It was an unexpected result, one she would never have planned, and it made her both uneasy and strangely excited.

Haldir struggled to curb his body’s response to her teasing, while at the same time trying to make sense of her words. What in Mordor’s name was she talking about? He knew no Lana. He searched his memory, but instead found himself focusing on the fingers that were dragging along his chest and over his ribs. He gritted his teeth as they continued down the line of his hip, his thigh, to his ankle. Then she moved around to the other side of the bed and started up the other leg. Again, his body stirred, responding to the stimulation of her touch.

Shoving aside his rage, he looked at her critically, trying to discern how he could gain the upper hand. Without intending to, he noted how elegant she was, in a quiet, unassuming sort of way. Her long hair was very dark, heavy, with a sheen that reflected the light of the candle. Her blue eyes were stormy. She was not as beautiful as some of the others, but there was something uncommon about her, something alluring and unique. Something he liked.

Had liked. Until now, of course. Gods, he would kill his brothers for this.

“For two years, she has loved you. Does that mean nothing?” Her hand trailed up his other leg, along his calf, over his knee, up his thigh as far as his hipbone where she paused, once more surveying his nakedness, as though debating whether to grow bolder. Yet he could see the high color in her cheekbones as she took in how much he had increased in size. She was embarrassed and he was not, and he knew he could use it to his advantage.

Needing to keep her off her guard, he jeered, “Perhaps there is no Lana, and you seek to attract my attention in this eccentric way. But you are weak. You are afraid to do that which you wish to do. You touch, yet do not touch.”

Ah, he had made her angry all right. She suddenly used her nails on him, digging deep into his abdomen. It caused him little pain, but he knew that if he looked there would be five long, red scratches. He could see that she was trembling with rage. He flexed his wrists again, trying to loosen the knots a little more than he already had. Whoever had tied them had not done as fine a job as she believed.

“You are a liar and a scoundrel!” Her voice shook with anger. “I would have expected the March Warden of Lothlórien to have some sense of honor, but you have none!” She knelt on the edge of the bed, her hair falling over her shoulder to pool on his stomach as she leaned over him, its light touch sending an automatic tremor over his flesh. “You claim not to know Lana, but we both know you stole her innocence. Why will you not admit it?”

He gazed up into the blue depths of her eyes. “Perhaps there was nothing to steal. Perhaps she was not as innocent as you believe,” he taunted, just to see what effect it would have on her, distracting her as he moved his wrist. Yes, the knot was loosened. He flexed the other wrist, and an ankle, carefully.

She drew back. “So you admit it!” she said triumphantly. He thought he saw a measure of relief in her face. Her hand moved higher, her fingers feathering over his collarbone and the muscles of his neck, then sliding over his chest and down his abdomen again. He found he could no longer subdue his reaction; her teasing had resulted in the inevitable physical outcome. No matter; that could also be used to advantage.

Haldir smiled, knowing it would annoy her. “I admit nothing.” He flexed the muscles of his arms, then resumed his first strategy. “I do not believe there is a Lana. I think you desire me for yourself. Come, untie me, and I will give you what you want. I am willing and able. I think that has become quite evident.”

She slapped him. “You are contemptible!”

“Strike me again,” he warned, his temper frayed, “and you will regret it more than you can imagine.”

He saw the way she shivered at his words, and knew he was making progress. That time he had used the full force of his power to intimidate.

“I will not strike you again,” she told him with dignity, “but not because I am frightened of you.”

He went on the attack. “Are you expecting company? Is this to be a threesome?”

That did it. He saw the way her eyes widened with dismay. “What?”

“Someone just entered your house. Did you not notice? Or perhaps you could hear nothing over your own heavy breathing.”

“Oooh!” With interest, he watched the way she clenched her fists, barely able to resist clawing him again. And then, as he had expected, she took the bait. She spun around and left the room. And Haldir smiled to himself as he quickly freed himself from knots he suspected had been left deliberately loose.

tbc