Monday, January 25, 2016

A Haldir Lemon -- March Back To You

 Character: Haldir

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings

OC: Alana, wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, cheerful, a bit of a tease

Inspiration: I have no idea how this happened, but apparently Haldir is kinkier than I imagined cause this story just wrote itself.  ;)  And with that, I’ll leave you all to enjoy the read~

Caras Galadhon has never looked so lovely, nor so welcoming, as its Marchwarden steps foot back into the borders.  His heart sings at the familiar sight of the city, and his pace quickens.  He has only one destination tonight, only one desire, and it has everything to do with returning to the place he has called home for many years.  He knows what waits for him there, can imagine the cheerful smile that will greet him upon entering.  The brimming fountain of love that will burst into his arms like a song waiting to be sung. 
His speeds up the steps, passes doorways that are not his, faces that do not smile with the joyful desire that he has imprinted in his mind.  Until – at last – he sees the Talan that is his and the Elleth that waits for him on the porch beyond it.  She had known he was coming then.  The Lady perhaps told her – or she had just felt it herself, that delicate breeze that rose up the moment he left the outskirts of the forest for the gem within.
“Haldir!” she cries, her mouth upturning, and he reaches her with a grinning embrace and a kiss that is entirely inappropriate for their public setting.  But she melts against him and hugs him back, weaving her arms around his hair and holding him close.
“I feel as if I have not kissed you in months,” he mumbles against her lips, even though it’s only been two weeks.  She laughs and kisses him firmly before pulling away, all too aware of the sight they must make.  But the elves around them do not question it, or even seem to care, though they have perhaps breached a sort of propriety that is held very dear in the heart of this kingdom.  Anything for their Marchwarden, the trees seem to say, and Alana returns the sentiment as she loops her arm in his and pulls him into their home.
The moment the door closes behind them, Haldir is kissing her again and pressing her to the closed door.  She quivers against him, half laughing, half passionate, and murmurs, “And here I was, thinking that my husband would be far too weary for such voracious affections…”  Silly of her, she thinks with a subtle blush, but doesn’t deny him as he pulls her close.
“Never,” he tells her, hands drifting up and down her sides.  He will never tire of her.  Even the mere thought is ridiculous.
Alana hums and pulls away, giving him a smile that merges with mischievous lust.  Oh but he likes it when she smiles at him like that.  It promises many dark and beautiful things for the night to come.
“There’s a bath waiting for you,” she says breezily, drawing away to unbuckle his belt.  He lets her pull it off of him, grasping the hilt of his sword and propping it against the wall.  His bow comes next, and his quiver, and then when he is properly weaponless, Alana takes his hands and pulls him behind her to the bathing chamber.
The sight of the warm bath has him nearly sinking with relief.  Two weeks with only the stream to wash in has done little for his already legendary temperament.  There is absolutely nothing like a decent bath after a two week shift on the borders – but the sheer joy of it increases tenfold when Alana begins to work at his clothes, and he reforms his thought.  There is nothing like a bath and her to lighten his spirits and remind him what he has waiting for him after every long, torturous shift.
She smiles as she unlaces his tunic, then his trousers, shucking away his shoulder guards and lifting up his shirt.  At every removal, her fingers wander over his skin, searching for bruises or cuts.  Haldir chuckles and catches her wrists, murmuring, “I am not injured, Alana.  There is no need for such worry.”  But he does love it when she worries over him.
She narrows her eyes at him and says, “I’ll be the judge of that, Marchwarden.  Even if you had a dagger in your gut, you would pretend to be fine.”  She annunciates her words with a tug at his leather leggings, and he chuckles again, partly amused and partly roiling with subdued desire.
Yes, he is stubborn but so is she, and Alana doesn’t stop her inspection until she has seen all of him.  Had they not been married for so long, he might’ve been a little bit wary of her roving gaze.  But as it is, he finds himself only amused and maybe even a little excited – well, very excited, to be truthful, and very much in need of returning her examination.  She laughs when he pulls her toward him, but her laughter transforms to low, amused chuckles as he playfully tugs her clothes away, making no effort to disguise his clearly carnal desires with every pass of his fingers on her skin.
“You are very insistent today,” she muses, body thrumming with anticipation as he shifts the rest of her gown away and sets to work on her underclothes with a determined look in his eyes.  His touches are almost brusque, his expression set in careful steadiness, as if he is working new recruits rather than unlacing the stays of her slip.  But Alana is not naïve to the heat that lingers just beneath his gaze, nor to the smirk that just barely skirts over his mouth.
Haldir grunts – it is more of a rumble, really; a low pitch of air that passes against his vocal cords and shifts them into a sound that makes her shiver.  He wrestles with the last of her clothes with the same resolve he would use in all other action, in the bedroom or out of it, and it makes her body sing for him.
“Does it bother you?” he questions, dragging his eyes up every curve of her and locking their gazes together with a subtle smile.  He already knows her answer, or so he thinks.  But Alana surprises him when she sends him a particularly wicked smile and brushes past him on her way to the tub, taking care to drag a hand over his bare abdomen as she goes.  He stiffens, if only because he’d much rather feel that touch move slightly lower – and because, of course, he has dreamt of it during the entirety of his long shift outside the borders, with only the memory of her to keep him warm at night.
She glances at him over her shoulder and shrugs, a delicate lift that makes the muscles of her back coil beneath her skin.  His eyes lower, and he is captured by the desire to kiss every inch of that back, and more of her too. 
“Has it ever bothered me in the past?” she asks, eyes positively sinful as she lowers her gaze to his own body.  It is quite clear that she is as equally struck as he, especially when she not-so-casually glances at the hardening shaft between his legs, which is easily on its way to becoming a persistent erection.
He watches her step into the tub and quickly joins her, never having been one to allow teasing to get past his defenses.  (Despite her being very good at doing both, when he is more inclined to allow it.)  As he lowers himself into the steaming water, Haldir sighs with a happiness that seems to have eluded him for the last two weeks, and is quick to wrap his arms around his wife and pull her tight into his chest, legs propped up around her.  It is a very pleasant position, especially because her perfect ass feels sinfully delicious pressed against his shaft.
She seems to agree, but does little more than rub very lightly against him before settling down – an action that he is sure is both strategic and carefully innocent.  Oh yes, she is good at teasing him in all the right ways, and for now, Haldir is happy to bask in it, and her.
“Mmm…” she sighs, nearly hums, her voice a cadence of comfort and giddy awareness as she turns in his arms and lowers her head to his chest.  “I have missed you, Haldir,” she tells him, stroking a hand over his arm.  Her fingers trace the muscles beneath his skin, and Haldir gives her the barest hint of a smile.  He winds his own fingers into her hair, eager to touch her, to familiarize himself with the body he has also missed, more than he can say.  A mere two weeks should be nothing, really – he has been gone far longer – but he cannot deny that every absence grates on him.  He raises her fingers to his mouth to kiss them, and she sighs again.
“Did you think of me during the long, lonely, desolate nights when you slept alone?” she asked a moment later, her voice taking on all the playful teasing he had become quite used to.  She blinked up at him with a smirk and he laughed. 
He leaned in, pushing his body from the edge of the tub with a short growl and heaving her body against his.  “You haunt me always, meleth nîn, [1] especially on the nights when my own touch cannot give me the relief I need.”  The words are carefully constructed for a single purpose: to see her fall apart with the desire they bring forth.  It is neither a lie nor the full truth – he has given in to his own touch many times during extended shifts, though only when the need is great and unable to be ignored.  
But it is neigh impossible to truly be alone during said shifts.  Even when he has a Talan to himself, elfish ears are, after all, very keen.  He has only ever given in to such temptations during stints to the stream, when he is as far from the other scouts as possible.  But regardless, it has the desired effect.  Alana shivers vividly against him, lips parting in vague surprise – probably that he had been so forward in such admittance.  He does love to surprise her, to show her that he is not the stoic, cold Marchwarden that most believe him to be.  Of this she is already quite aware, but to have the knowledge rekindled in such a lovely way makes him hum with masculine pride.
When she does not immediately move, Haldir smirks, a chuckle resounding through his chest and rumbling against her.  He’s very hard now, and doubts that he will be able to think of little else but ravishing her to his best abilities.  Not that she minds.  His choice of wife had been a good one, for she is nearly as unquenchable in her desire for him as he is for her.
“…Alana?” he asks, sounding a little warbled as he fights off a laugh.  She is rarely silenced in such a way.  He rather likes to be the one to take her so off guard that she cannot even think of a response.
She stares at him and draws closer, the corner of her mouth drawing up into a perfectly wicked smile as her eyes melt with desire.  “Haldir…do you really pleasure yourself when we are separated?  Do you desire me that much?”
Her question catches him off guard, this time, because he had thought it obvious.  He can barely keep his hands off her when they’re together, in public or otherwise – which has led them both to rather amusing, clandestine comments from others around them.  That she is surprised at how much he wants her makes him surprised, too.
He raises an eyebrow.  His hand slides up her body and she shivers brightly, but doesn’t look away from him.  Their gazes are locked.  He stares at her like she is prey beneath him and he is readying himself to utterly devour her.  His eyes flash and he murmurs lowly, “I often think of you when I bathe.  It is the only time I am able to have a private moment away from the others.  And I imagine you in the most sinful ways, meleth nîn.  It makes me eager for you, but alas – “ he smirks, cupping her breast, “I must take care of the problem myself.”
Her breath shortens as his thumbs circles her nipple in that seemingly innocent way.  They have never had a conversation like this before.  It makes her absolutely crazy with desire.  She can imagine him now, leaning back against a rock, his bare body surrounded by water, his hand grasping the hard erection that splinters to life between his thighs…murmuring her name as he pumps himself between those calloused fingers and imagines that they are hers…
She decides that perhaps it is time to act out this particular fantasy of his.  After all, they are in a bathtub together.  It is probably the closest they will get to living in these imaginations. 
His eyes flutter when she reaches down to curl her fingers around his hard length, slowly dragging her touch up and thumbing over his tip.  When his throat convulses, she leans in and kisses it, whispering against his skin a secret of her own, “I imagine you, too.”
He pauses, body at once tense, and she wonders if that means that he is not pleased with the admission.  But mere seconds later Haldir is growling wickedly and slipping his hand into her hair to drag her head forcibly back.  His eyes are dark, near black with a passion that makes her breath short and her body ache. 
“Tell me more,” he orders, almost begging, though he would never admit to it.  She has seen this side of him before, heard such sinful orders directed at her, but somehow in this moment, they are far more poignant than ever before.  She feels as if she is on fire.
In a breathless voice, Alana whispers, “My fingers are no comparison to this…”  She gently squeezes his shaft and he lets out a shredded breath that makes her press ever closer to him, eager for more.  “…but I imagine they are yours.  And when I touch myself it is almost enough…”  Almost, but not quite, because nothing feels as perfect as the fullness of him inside her, shifting her off the corners of reality and into the thoroughly unknown.
Haldir’s eyes squeeze shut.  He shivers when she so clearly murmurs that she touches herself – and all he can imagine is her, naked and glorious on their bed, legs spread and fingers stroking over heated flesh.  At once, he can think of only one desperate desire that he absolutely must partake in or he fear he may unravel from the sheer need.
His voice is strained, clenching over the syllables as he hoarsely says, “Show me.”
Alana pauses, but does not linger in her indecision.  Her body is on fire from this conversation alone, and she bites back a smile that Haldir eagerly returns.  She feels like they are giddy newlyweds, unable to keep their hands off each other and racing to discover and explore new forms of pleasure.  She had thought they had already learned all there was to know about the other, but this…Eru save her, this is making her crazy with want.
She stands, water cascades down her figure.  With a haste that Haldir is quick to match, they stumble out of the tub and towel themselves dry – just dry enough to not make a watery mess of the floor as they fly to the bedroom.  They get to the threshold of it before Haldir grasps her around the waist and drags her against him, claiming the hungry kiss that he has been waiting for since the moment they entered that bathtub.  Alana sinks fitfully against him, mouth eagerly working against his, tongue delving against his mouth – but before she can continue, he pulls away and gives her a firm squeeze around her hips. 
“I want to see you,” he whispers, nipping at her bottom lip before fully dragging his mouth from hers.  She shivers as he guides her to the bed, and when she slowly lowers herself onto her back, he follows.  “Pretend I’m not here.  Touch yourself like you would if you were alone.”  He settles himself on the edge of the bed, too far from her to touch but not so far that he cannot see everything she does, and waits with baited breath.
Alana chuckles and murmurs, “I can’t pretend you aren’t here, Haldir.  I’m too aware of you.”  Her entire body is aware of him – of the fact that he is utterly naked and hard and just beside her, eyes watchful.  But she gets comfortable anyway, laying herself down on the pillows that wait for her, and glances at him in an almost shy way.  He opens his mouth to say something, anything that might dissuade such silly nervousness from her, but she cuts him off before he can.  “But…I will try if it will please you…”  She sends him a small smile that he returns.
He wants to say that it will please him very much, especially when he is sent out again.  He’d like to tell her about how this image will burn into his mind, how he’ll think of it when he is hard and searching for his own pleasure.  But he doesn’t get the chance, because before he can so much as inhale, Alana is shifting her legs apart and closing her eyes and sighing.  Her hands start at the top of her body, drifting over her collarbones and then her breasts, and Haldir’s gaze turns hungry and desperate as he watches her play with her nipples.
Intimacy is not new to them, but something about this kind of intimacy makes Alana tremble with newfound hesitance, as if she is a virgin on her wedding night.  They are together but separate, basking in desire that rolls fluidly around them.  She can think of nothing besides the watchful gaze he sets upon her, and even as it turns her shy, it also instills a fervor that she cannot describe.  That he is watching her, enjoying her, desiring her so fiercely makes her shiver and spread her legs wider, slowly inching her hands down to the crevice of them.
One finger dips into her folds.  Haldir grits his teeth, blood boiling and body tense.  So this is what she does when he is not there to please her.  This is the expression on her face when she imagines his fingers are touching her rather than her own.  What else is she imagining, he wonders?  What other fantasies does she create as she launches herself into this delicious pleasure?
Her other hand joins in, thighs trembling as she closes her eyes tight.  Desire pools in her belly, fire like no other twisting through her like vines climbing always upward.  Her thumbs her clit, circling the bud at the top and arching her body into the press of her fingers.  A breathless moan spills from her throat before she can catch it, and she hears Haldir beside her, shifting as he absorbs the tiny shred of sound.  Her shyness soon morphs into desperate passion that doesn’t allow such delicate emotions – this is her husband and she isn’t ashamed of her blistering desire for him.  And so she takes it up a notch, partly because she desperately needs it for her own arousal but mostly because she knows he’s staring at her and loving every movement she gives him.
She hears his ragged inhalation when she brings her finger to her mouth, licks her juices from it, and bring it to her breast with a moan.  Kneading the soft flesh with her fingers, Alana whimpers, pushes her chest up, and hastens her fingers below.  She adds another finger into her core, thrusting it in tantalizingly smooth circles before dragging them out and rubbing her clit.  And then, trying to recreate her usual routine as accurately as she can, she moans her husband’s name as she slips her fingers back inside her, rocking into them as she would if it was his length that filled her up.  “Haldir…”  Her voice, a quilted mess of desperation and arousing, blind desire, makes him snap.
He growls, heaving with breath that never seems to fill his lungs.  How can she entice him so much?  His very blood is on fire, drilling through his veins like a purgatory of jaded arousal.  Flames lick at him, sets his skin melting, his nerves shivering as a sapling might shiver in a heavy thunderstorm – and his heart is that thunder, the rocking sway of a sky adrift with clouds about to burst, pulsing with a need to release every spent emotion that has ever taken a hold of his seemingly stoic persona.  There is nothing stoic about him now.
“Come for me, Alana,” he growls at her, overcome by the sheer need to see her crumble before him.  Unprepared to hear his voice, Alana’s eyes burst open and she turns to stare at him, wide and trembling like a sparrow.  All at once she’s caught up in that storm, bolstered back and forth with the gusty winds of his passion – and the sight he makes before her.
He has his hand wrapped around his member, pumping himself almost idly, trying not to push himself too far too soon.  He wants to finish inside her but he can’t help the brisk, quaking need to touch himself.  And what a beautiful sight he makes, she thinks as she draws her gaze down to his hand.  He’s already leaking, precum beading at his tip.  His graceful, calloused fingers curl around his girth, sliding slowly back and forth.  Every downward pass pulls the skin back, every upward one and his thumb accompanies the dance, shifting over his head before plummeting back down.
“Come for me,” he repeats, drawing her attention back to the matter at hand.  She flounders for a moment, swept up so completely in the glorious sight of him that she has forgotten to keep touching herself.  She jumps back in, both literally and figuratively, fingers delving inside her core as she tries to picture that hard shaft filling her up instead.  It’s surprisingly easy to do.
Haldir purrs at the sight, squeezing himself a little and tipping his head back when the pleasure of the movement briefly overpowers him.  His chest ripples from the toss of his head, and her gaze snaps up to watch.  It’s so much better this way, she thinks.  Watching him as he watches her, unabashedly staring.  But Haldir, as always, somehow manages to make everything so much…more.
It seems that he has lost the ability to make his voice anything but a growl, because his next words are exactly that: “Imagine me moving above you, inside you – imagine your fingers are my cock and I’m thrusting into you like a savage animal – “
“Haldir,” she whimpers, half embarrassed at the vulgar words that he so rarely speaks but mostly completely crazy about them.  He never talks like that, never.  That he is now only spurs on the fire that threatens to swallow her whole.  She heaves, squeezing her breast tightly and trying to imagine him – but it’s so hard when he’s staring at her like that, like he’s the one whose about to swallow her, devour her; a savage animal indeed.
“Faster,” he demands, leaning forward on the bed and pumping himself quickly in her hand.  “Move your fingers faster, like I would if I was inside you right now.” 
She can barely breathe anymore, but she somehow obeys, thrumming her fingers faster.  Her hips tilt up to meet them.  She tries to set a pace that he would, if he was indeed inside her and thrusting into her.  He would be wickedly fast now, so caught up in pleasure that the idea of going slow wouldn’t even grace his mind.  So she tries, his words spurring her on when he purrs, “That’s right.  Now come for me, meleth nîn.”
She does.  It’s so easy, her body is so hot, and she falls into her orgasm so quickly that Alana can do nothing but gasp and cry out his name and arch her body right off the bed.  He watches every movement with sharp eyes, not missing anything, and only when she has wrung out her orgasm does Haldir move.
He crawls toward her – leaps, really – pushes himself between her legs and heaves her hips into his.  Alana isn’t ready for the movement and it takes her by surprise, but she lets out a long moan when he enters her slick core.  She’s still shaking with the remnants of her orgasm when he hilts himself inside her with no trouble, and as he gathers her in his arms and starts to move, she really thinks she might be delirious because it feels so good.
“Haldir!” she cries, almost sobs as he thrusts into her.  She’s so hot around him that he moans, a raw pleasurable sound that makes her grasp him tightly and toss her head back.  His mouth converges on her pale throat, nipping and biting and making her writhe beneath him as she struggles for more pleasure, more of him.  It’s so wantonly blissful that he nearly comes right then and there, before he can even enjoy himself.
“Alana…mmm…” his eyes drift closed, burying his head into her neck as one hand comes up to play with her breast.  It is more of a soft squeeze than anything else, so overcome as he is with the desperate cycling burn of his finish as it drives through him.  But the touch makes her gasp, fingers tangling into his blonde hair and twisting, clenching him close to her and tightening her thighs around the graceful swoop of his hips.  Fire consumes her for a second time, and with a cry Alana rushes forward to meet it, gasping his name as it jumps from her tongue.
He joins her, snapping his hips against hers for several long, drawn out thrusts as he feels himself burst and fill her.  Tight around him, she milks him clean, her muscles fluttering intermittently as she drifts through her finish and hangs limply beneath him.  Her limbs are a melted pool of heat and she can only lie there, clutching him to her heart and practically crying from the sheer joy that he has given her.
Haldir groans, moves his hips sluggishly in a few last thrusts that make pleasure sing through their bodies, and then pulls out of her.  He shifts them, pressing himself down beside her and gathering her up in his arms.  She swings a leg around his waist and an arm around his chest, nuzzling her face to the crook of his neck and breathing deeply.  His hand comes down to her ass and pulls her close, giving her a playful little squeeze before settling at her waist.  The warmth of him surrounds her like a sheath, and Alana can’t think of a time when she was more comfortable than she is now.
“I’m not finished with you yet,” she mumbles, stubbornly trying to refuse the exhaustion that creeps through her.  The light of evening makes the room gray and lovely, and she knows they have an entire night of sleepless lovemaking to get around to.  But Haldir only chuckles, gruff and tired and sounding so satiated that she feels a burst of feminine pride resound through her.  He pets her hair as if she is a cat, threading his fingers through it and drifting them over her scalp.  It feels so good that she sighs and nestles closer.
“Mmm…I’ll never be done with you,” he replies, pressing a firm kiss to her temple and then murmuring, “Now rest.  If you want to keep up with me tonight, you’ll need it.”  There is amusement in his tone that makes Alana laugh.
“Oh?  A challenge?  I cannot wait to meet it,” she whispers against him, and he reaches down to pull the blankets up around them.  As he arranges them, he playfully slaps her ass and she lets out a sound of surprised enjoyment, curling her leg tighter around his waist and pressing her core against his.  It might be her imagination, but she thinks he feels a little harder and she thrills at the thought.  A roll of her hips and the suspicion is confirmed – her husband’s warning has been rightfully said.  He is definitely not going to let her sleep tonight.
“Don’t tempt me,” he growls in her ear, nipping lightly at the sensitive flesh.  He drags her roughly against him before settling back down, drifting his hand up her back in lazy patterns.  Alana bites her lip and laughs softly, closing her eyes.  “Oh very well,” she breathes, “but if you don’t wake me up in an hour I shall be very cross with you.”
Her words make him chuckle darkly.  He purrs, “An hour?  You give me far too much credit.  I doubt I’ll get through half of that.”
She giggles and basks in the feeling of his skin pressed against hers.  “What a resilient husband I have.  How lucky I am.”  She sends him a smirk that makes him slowly, lazily grin.
“If you don’t get some rest right now, I won’t give you a break at all,” he warns, and she knows without a doubt that he is being absolutely serious.  Which is why Alana raises a jaunty eyebrow and murmurs lowly, “Maybe I don’t want a break.  Maybe I just want you.”
He stares at her for a moment as if he’s trying to decide if she’s worthy of his attention.  His mind is made up when she rolls her hips into him again and pleasure shoots through his body.  With a predatory gleam in his eye, Haldir rolls her onto her back and crawls up her, hovering above her with that stormy, passionate expression.  “When I’m through with you, you’ll regret saying that.” 
A shiver bursts through her at his words, and Alana draws a hand up his body.  “I don’t think so,” she whispers, and as she brings him down to kiss him, says, “Shall we test your theory out?”
He laughs and swoops down, taking her mouth firmly with his and proceeding to do exactly that.


[1] Meleth nîn ... My love


  1. Your writing is always wonderful 😊

  2. I love Haldir! Great writing! :D

  3. Loved it as always; erotically passionate and breathtaking. What does Mareth Nin mean?

    1. Thanks ^_^ I just added the translation. Guess it slipped my mind while I was posting! Glad you like it though, Haldir is amazing ;3

  4. Haldir has to be one of my favorite characters in LOTR. The Two Towers movie made me cry at his death and I went hopelessly searching On the internet for Haldir fanfiction. This is actually one of the first times I have come across a Haldir lemon, and I have to say that I am yet again hopelessly in love with your writing. Keep it up! : )