Strange Allies

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A/N:

Disclaimer - I don't own any of this aside from Annowe and I have not made any money from this story.

Sandra: Yes, well, everything happens for a reason and this is how Haldir wanted it to be. There is more going on here than meets the eye! I’m glad you are enjoying this. I wish I could take credit for it but I feel as if all I am doing is putting my fingers on the keys and words come out. It's Haldir’s story, not really mine. I’m just the scribe. (Yes, he is a horrid, vile bastard but oh so hot and sexy! Makes me wanna just throw him down and do such naughty things to him, you know?)

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“We cannot stop until daybreak,” Haldir said. “We have frightened them but they will soon return.”

“Let them return,” Annowe glared. “I need to dress that wound before you lose any more blood.” She grabbed at his arm and he jerked it away to march off into the darkness.

“Haldir!” She stomped her foot in frustration. “Damn you! Listen to me! You’re losing too much blood! You will collapse if you keep going. And, while I might find the thought of that enjoyable, I certainly don’t want your stinking carcass drawing even MORE vile creatures to me!” She shouted at him.

He paused momentarily, considering her logic. “Very well, let us find a safe place to stop, then,” he agreed.

Annowe ran to catch up to him and the two of them started off again. They walked farther east away from the foothills until Haldir felt they were a safe distance away. Should the wolves return he would easily see their approach over the flat plain.

When he finally stopped, Annowe ordered him to sit and rest as she built a fire. She did not want him aggravating his condition since she was not sure how badly he had been wounded. He ignored her and stared off into the darkness, listening and smelling, his eyes alert and watchful.

The fire gradually grew, encircling them in its glow and she sighed in relief. Even Haldir relaxed slightly as he sat down to face the flames, gingerly removing his cloak and backpack. The wolves would not come near the fire. They would be safe as long as it burned brightly and Annowe was not in a mind to let it die out.

Gently, she helped him remove his tunics. She did not want to look at the wound. His blood had soaked through to his outer tunic and Annowe could only imagine what lay underneath. She had seen many flesh wounds from her days fighting in the south but those were usually clean – from swords - not jagged tears from the claws of wolves.

Thankfully he had only been scratched and not bitten. The thought of Haldir being bitten by a werewolf was quite unnerving. He was bad enough now she couldn’t imagine him getting worse!

As he began to remove his inner tunic, Annowe stopped him. The blood had partially dried and she saw that it was stuck to the wound.

“No,” she murmured, placing a restraining hand on his arm. “Wait. Let me do this part.”

He paused suspiciously.

Annowe couldn’t help but grin. “It would appear that you trust me no more than I trust you,” she said ruefully.

Haldir snorted. “We are indeed strange allies, daughter of Ulmo,” he admitted.

Her burst of laughter startled him and he smiled despite himself. Without another word, she dampened a small towel with water from their water skin and held it near the fire. When it had become warm enough, she placed it gently against the wound, smoothing his hair over his opposite shoulder to keep it out of the way.

Haldir shivered at the sensation of her small hands in his hair and he closed his eyes. It was such an innocuous gesture but it sent a surge of desire through his loins. He wanted her hands tangling in his hair as he buried his face between her soft breasts. He quivered and bit his lip but Annowe appeared not to notice his reaction, intent on her task and he was thankful for that.

“If we wet this again, we should be able to work your tunic away from the wound without causing more damage,” she muttered, examining the area as she wetted it.

Several times she patiently repeated the action then carefully pulled his tunic away from the scratches as she murmured encouragingly to him. Haldir smiled to himself. Given the opportunity to physically cause him pain she had declined. Instead, she had been as gentle with him as if he were an elfling with a skinned knee.

“Take it off,” she ordered when she was sure he could safely remove his tunic without re-injuring himself.

Slowly, Haldir removed the garment and laid it aside as Annowe watched him anxiously for any sign of pain. He just couldn’t resist flexing his muscles for her benefit and she rolled her eyes in exasperation at him, but not before stealing an admiring glance at his lithe form.

“You are incorrigible, you realize this, don’t you?” She sighed. He was obviously not too seriously hurt if he could still find it in himself to torment her and for once, she was glad of it.

“Yes. But you would not have me any other way,” he smiled wickedly at her despite his pain.

She grunted noncommittally and rolled her eyes at him. He was completely vile.

“Turn your back to the fire so I can see it better,” she requested.

He obeyed and she drew in a sharp breath when she saw the extent of the damage. The jagged claw marks cut a bloody diagonal swatch from the top of his collarbone to the bottom of his shoulder blade. The area was red and swollen but there was so much dried blood that Annowe could not see how bad it truly was.

Fortunately, he had sensed the creature and moved so that the animal only caught him on one side and not full on the back. But the wound still appeared quite vicious. Perhaps if it had struck him full on the back, it would have caught more of his backpack than flesh but Haldir had tried to move away, inadvertently exposing more of him to the wolfs slashing claws.

“This will hurt,” she warned him, her fingers hovering over the gashes.

“Yes, I know,” he sighed. “Get on with it.”

Gritting her teeth against the pain she knew she would cause him, she gently began cleaning the dried blood from the area, using the damp towel and water. He could hear her murmuring quietly, giving him her running assessment of the size, depth and terrible appearance of the wound as she tenderly cleaned it.

She was so close to him that he could feel her breath against his skin as she talked and smell the warm inviting scent of her. He must not think of it! He must not think of her leaning over him, kissing the back of his exposed neck as she pressed her firm breasts into his back and her hands stroked his bare chest. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the pain instead.

Then she lightly probed the first gash, trying to discern its depth and breadth. Haldir hissed but did not move, his lustful thoughts immediately forgotten as he concentrated on the pain only. He would not think of the pleasure she could give him. There was only the pain now. Quickly, Annowe moved her fingers over the other gashes. They seemed more shallow the farther out they were and she sighed gratefully. He would heal quickly if she could properly dress the wounds.

She crawled over to her carryall, trying to find anything to use as a bandage when he interrupted her.

“Annowe,” Haldir’s soft voice called. “I have some bandages and herbs in my pack. Hand it to me and I will get them for you.”

“Oh,” she looked at him in surprise and moved to retrieve his pack.

She just caught a glimpse of his bare torso, his alabaster skin shining in the firelight with his taut muscles giving off a tantalizing glow as she turned to grab his backpack. She frowned at herself. She should not be thinking of him in such a manner.

Nervously she handed the bundle to him, keeping her eyes on his. His skin was perfect and the way the firelight shone over his smooth chest was so tempting. She wanted to place her lips against his hard warm skin and taste it. He smiled slightly as he took the pack from her and bent his head to search it.

She examined his profile as he carefully picked through the items. Certainly he was not as beautiful as Legolas and he was much older. Annowe reckoned he was even older than she was although she could not be certain. Again, the thought of him with Legolas crept into her mind and her heart skipped a beat. How beautiful the two of them would be, she mused but she cut the thought short – no good could come of that and there were more important matters to attend to now.

Instead, she watched Haldir, his thick dark lashes contrasted starkly against his pale skin as he lowered his eyes to peer inside the pack. She stole a look at his solid broad chest, watching the hard muscles of his shoulder ripple as he reached farther into the pack in search of the wayward items. She wanted to touch him, to feel his firm body under her eager hands. What was wrong with her? Her mind scolded.

After a few moments, she had the distinct impression that he knew she was studying him and that he was thoroughly enjoying it. He was enjoying it to the point that he had stopped searching for the items and was just sitting there, posing and flexing for her.

She cleared her throat angrily and, magically, the sought after items appeared in one of his large hands. Scowling darkly at him and angry with herself for admiring his form, she snatched the items from his grasp and moved to finish her task.

Haldir grinned shamelessly. He nearly giggled despite his pain. Certainly she would extract a price on him but he did not care. He had seen the admiration in her eyes and knew she was not as impervious to his desire as she let on. “Soon,” he mentally promised her, “soon I will see that look openly in your eyes.”

His gleeful thoughts were cut short as Annowe roughly wiped his wound dry. He yelped then gnashed his teeth against the pain.

“Oh, sorry,” she said in a tone that was not.

The March Warden growled but, once she had exacted her vengeance, her touch became more gentle and careful. He knew she had touched Legolas in such a manner, her small hands gently stroking his skin as she moaned in pleasure. Suddenly, the image of Legolas between her thighs crept back into his mind and he had to willfully shut it out.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on her delicate fingers, gently applying the salve, lightly running over his skin. He wanted her hands on him, all over him, touching him, stroking him, pleasing him. The way he had seen her hands run over Legolas. Yes! Her small soft hands running over his hard flesh as her hungry lips quickly followed in their wake. He should know such pleasure from her! And he would know such pleasure from her!

Annowe’s hands began to shake as she applied the salve. She could feel him again, feel his desire and he was so very close – indeed, right at the ends of her fingertips. She could have easily touched or kissed him anywhere she wanted and his skin was so warm and inviting under her fingers. Would he notice if she kissed him there? Would he notice if she placed her lips ever so gently on the back of his shoulder and breathed in his scent as her light kiss soothed his wound? Would he notice if her hand just happened to slip over his broad shoulder and tremble against his solid chest as her teeth found the tip of his pointed ear?

She bit her lip in consternation. What was wrong with her? She cursed herself. This is the hated March Warden – voyeur in the garden, antagonist of Legolas, merciless tormentor of her! She must be going mad to be having such lustful thoughts of him!

She shook her head. No, she was just missing Legolas. She was missing Legolas and Haldir was an elf, therefore he reminded her of Legolas. It was all quite logical, she assured herself. It was just because Haldir was an elf. A half naked elf sitting close enough to her that she could smell him and feel the warmth of his skin, making her miss Legolas that much more. Not because she felt any sort of lustful desire for Haldir. That could not be. No, he was much too vile and arrogant for her to be having such perverse thoughts of him.

“And yet,” the little voice in her mind whispered, “when he held you in those arms, against his solid body, it stirred in you then.” “Shut up!” She hissed to that voice. “It is just because he is an elf. Nothing more.” She rationalized.

“I am finished,” she said quietly and snatched his tunic from the ground, thrusting it to him.

Haldir suppressed a smile. “Perhaps I would like to allow this salve to dry,” he murmured. “So I do not disturb the bandage when I put my tunic on.”

Annowe grunted and stuffed the tunic into his hands before carefully packing the remaining items away. If he wanted to sit around half naked in the cold then let him. She would not give him the satisfaction of looking at him again.

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