Greetings

GREETINGS

Author: Ennorwen
Pairing: Haldir/OFC
Summary: The Marchwarden is welcomed home after many weeks at the borders
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Very Slight BDSM – spanking, graphic sex
Beta: Rozzan
A/N: Written informally but inspired by the Livejournal Fanfic 100 Challenge – Category: Weeks


The day was bright and fair as she leaned on a railing high in a mallorn and watched the activity go on around her. The elves of Lothlorien were busy, getting ready for that night’s feast of welcome for the watchers at the border, who had only recently returned from many weeks at the Northern fences.

She spoke to many of the ellon and ellyth who passed by her, some carrying linens and some carrying wineskins or any of the other provisions that would be placed in the talans of the returning Galadhrim by way of welcome. She felt full of anticipation, with not a care in Arda as she lolled while others worked. Many wondered at the secret smile she held, but none asked.

Some of the wardens had already returned and been welcomed by their mates and many were the reunions that she witnessed from her perch high above the floor of the Golden Wood.

So involved was she in her reverie that the first she felt of him was a slight brush at her back and her skin prickled as her hair was drawn away from one side of her neck. She felt his breath at her ear and the small hairs at her nape rose as he whispered to her,

“Come with me.”

Slowly closing her eyes for a moment, she shivered and let a small smile play over her lips. He was home.

She turned and saw he was already striding away, tall and lean and with the longbow and quiver slung over his broad shoulders. She watched for a moment before taking a step and once again marveled at the sinewy thighs and manifest strength that he evoked. Shuddering, and with small hesitant steps, she followed.

They wound their way up through the tree and he turned not once to see if she was there. He knew that she was and deliberately ignored the soft footsteps behind him, acknowledging words of welcome from the other elves he passed by, all the while determinately nearing his own flet.

He reached the entry and waited, back turned to her, as she came up behind him. Stepping slightly to the side, he pulled the fabric from the doorway and held it for her as she entered. All this time not a word had been spoken between them but for the initial request; nay, command.

She followed him inside and stood at the doorway as he pulled the fabric tight, shutting out the noise and activity of Caras Galadhon outside and below them. Turning to face the room itself, she watched in silence as the great Marchwarden placed his bow and quiver in their place in the corner. Turning to face her, his fingers moved to the clasp at the top of his cloak and she watched as he unhooked it and unwound the grey fabric before letting it slide down and off of his body.

She had moved not an inch and watched silently as he turned the chair at the table to face her. He draped his body over it, letting his legs splay languidly before him, hands moving slowly up and down long muscled thighs. His eyes wandered over her form, and he shook his head in disappointment before taking a long closed mouth breath.

“You have not prepared the talan for my return.”

Her eyes closed in contrition and she swallowed hard as she took a quivering step toward the cabinet and brought out the decanter and glass. She poured the wine and looked at him as if awaiting further instructions. As his right hand closed around the glass, his left bade her to step back.

She moved back to the doorway and watched as he drank deep from the goblet, swirling the wine through his mouth and swallowing the draft. She saw the long fingers of his left hand stroking upward over his crotch and noted that his burgeoning arousal had begun to strain the fabric of his leggings. He smiled slightly as he spoke,

“Take off your dress.”

Her shaking hands moved to the bodice and began to unknot the laces. She pulled them free and at her waist pulled the threads through. The dress wafted to the floor and encircled her feet, leaving her in a light blue chemise. She shivered, but she was not cold and her nipples peaked under the filmy cloth. She felt her nether lips open as the sweet liquor within her began to flow.

He quirked a lip upward as he motioned her to come closer. Her legs felt molten and slowly she lifted one foot forward. With three hesitant steps she stood before him.

Her breath came faster as she stared into the mithril eyes and she let out a gasp when he once more spoke,

“Hold your chemise at your waist and gather it there.”

She allowed her hands a light pass over her breasts before they came to rest at her waist. This was not lost on the riveted Marchwarden and he stifled a small smirk that had unconsciously come to his lips.

She pinched the fabric at her waist between her thumb and fingers and began to enfold it. The hem at her ankles slowly rose to her knees and as she pulled it upward it caressed her thighs and she moaned...

“Higher.” Said he, “To your waist.”

Holding her breath she inched the fabric upward. Her wetness had dampened her undergarment and she felt the thin film of the muslin cling to her folds.

“Part your legs. Not too far.”

His body sank further into his chair as she exhaled the long held breath and slowly parted her thighs. As they widened he mirrored her, slowly opening his own. His left hand came to his waist, slightly lifting his tunic and he pulled the tie at the base of his navel. He loosened the lacing and pulled the closure apart, stroking his now less burdened erection with the fingers of his right hand, but not freeing it completely from its confinement. With his left he caressed a tensile long thigh.

He held out his hand to her and with trembling fingers she clasped it lightly. He pulled her one step closer until she stood between his widened thighs. He dropped her fingers from his and inserted a finger under the muslin at her waist. He drew it slowly back and forth, with each stroke lowering the garment further until it rested just above her mound and then moved his finger lower and limned it down through her cleft. Sliding it between cloth and lips he worked his finger up and down separating the cloth from the dripping flesh it clung to.

She grasped for breath and felt herself falling falling….until the finger abruptly withdrew and the Marchwarden came to a stern posture and leaned into her. Holding her eyes, his own narrowed, he issued a reminder,

“The talan was not ready for my return.”

Now refocused directly at him, she took a step back as he stood. He took her by the hand and brought her to his left, facing the table. He took her head in his large hand and turned her face to his. His hair brushed her face as he leaned in to kiss her, oh so lightly he ghosted his lips over hers. He moved his head back and her eyes, beseeching, caught his and he shook his head sadly.

“No.” he mouthed and she turned her head to the side as he lowered her body to lay over the table.

He made sure her chemise was tucked securely around her waist and then he caressed her bottom, running his fingers between flesh and cloth in slow circles and then longer strokes. She quivered with each touch and she clenched and unclenched with every movement as his hands gently worked over her buttocks.

He grasped the sides of the garment and pulled it slowly down over her hips, stopping when he felt it cling underneath. She heard a moan escape his mouth as he pulled the cloth free and drew it lower until it rested at mid-thigh.

He brought the chair around and sat down behind her. She could not see him and her fingers curled into balls as she rested her hands beside her head. She lay over the table, nether lips bared as he reclined and beheld her.

He sat poised like this for a while and then she heard him stand up. She could not see his hands, stroking his now fully awakened erection and then struggling to withhold himself. He stood straight up and took a deep breath, placing one large hand on her buttocks. With the other he reached near the table and she felt him place soft leather on her backside.

He took one glove up from its place on her body and put it on his left hand. He drew the other over her flesh before pulling it firmly over his right. Now with two gloved hands he cupped her round bottom. Slowly they drew an arc over her white globes and then one rose up quickly and came down hard on the shuddering flesh.

Again the hand rose and it fell. Five times in succession and it burned and it ached and her breath came in long gasps. She gripped the table edge above her and held on while her flesh reddened under his hands.

He then cupped her bottom and rubbed gently, soothing and blowing on her now burning cheeks. His left hand reached down to the cloth holding her legs together and roughly pulled it down to her ankles. Standing behind her he parted and widened her thighs with his legs and she felt him reach down through her cleft, touching her pearl with one long still gloved finger.

He circled it slowly before drawing it back deeper in through the crevice and pausing at her entrance. Slowly he worked the finger inside and the feel of the glove’s texture against her soft flesh was almost too much to bear. She rotated her hips trying for more, or for less or for movement or for something….

Smiling to himself and nudging her thigh with his rock hard erection, he added another and now two gloved fingers plied her deep secrets plunging forward and withdrawing.
Responding to his touch she worked with him and soon he could take no more.

Stepping behind her and withdrawing his fingers, he used both hands to widen her opening and poised his fully engorged member at her entrance. Slowly he worked in the tip and then plunged deeply and hard.

Jolted and reeling, she clung to the edge of the table and let out a voiceless scream as he slowly withdrew and then thrust again. She clenched as she felt him hit the mouth of her womb and momentarily lost all consciousness as his rhythm became overwhelming. She flew from peak to peak as he ravished her and finally could climb no higher.

The molecules in her body flew apart and split off into a million pieces before they came back together in her now grasping passage.

He laid his body over hers, and made one last deep plunge. Roaring his pleasure and holding her tightly he came, the molten liquid spilling forth deep inside her and his teeth bit into the nape of her neck.

He stilled then, holding her to the table while he softened and then slowly withdrew.

Removing the gloves and throwing them to the floor, he drew her up with him and turned her to face him. He embraced her tightly and their lips met in a contented and tender kiss.

Smiling up into his eyes, she spoke her first words to him,

“Welcome home, Haldir.”