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Dreams	By : TICS Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 4273 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Author's Note: It recently came to my attention that this story had somehow gotten discombobulated, with only the first chapter showing in its entirety. I've reloaded the story, so if you've read it before, my apologies.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Dreams, Part I

He sat on the edge of his pallet, watching the last of the fire's
embers slowly die. Sleep tugged at the edges of his mind for although he had
forced himself to stay awake for as long as possible, even those such as he
needed to rest occasionally.

She sat on the edge of her bed, biting a nail as she fought
back sleep that wanted to come too easily. She ached to turn off the light and
give in to sleep, but fought valiantly against the impulse. Her head nodded
against her breast, only to be jerked back up as she struggled to remain awake.

Yawning, he lay back on his pallet, arms behind his head, still
forcing his eyelids to remain open, staring at the beams that crisscrossed the
thatched roof. He wondered if the dream would come again tonight, knowing in
his heart that it would. It had come every night for months now, and no amount
of physical labor, or sleeping draughts procured from the healers could keep it
at bay.

Lying back on her bed, she pulled the covers up to her chin,
trying to force her eyes to remain focussed on the single nightlight burning
near the bathroom. She wondered if the dream would come again, torn between
desperately wanting it to, and fearing that it would. No amount of exercise or
aerobics, or flights of stairs climbed could free her sleep from the dream. She
had taken every over the counter sleeping aid, but nothing had proven to the
keep the dream from coming night after night for months.

A shiver ran down his spine, as he recalled vividly every minute
detail of the dream. She would come to him, standing in the doorway of his
talan, backlit by the silver moonlight, in a gown of the finest gauze. Her deep
chestnut hair would be free of constraints, curls lifting gently in the breeze
that filtered in through the tree limbs. She would stand and look at him with
wonder in her eyes, as if she were the one to behold a vision. Her figure,
clearly visible through the thin garment she wore, was softly rounded and
delicately boned.

Her hands gripped the sheets in fists, as her memory replayed
the dream moment by moment. She would be standing in a doorway, and see him
lying on a bed built low to the floor, beams of silvery moonlight picking up
near-white highlights in his pale hair, making his grey eyes sparkle. Leaning
up on one elbow, covered to the waist with a simple sheet of homespun, he would
gaze at her as if he were the one seeing an incredible apparition. His chest
was pale skinned and finely muscled; shoulders broad; his arms strong, capable,
and inviting.

"Are you real?" he would ask in a soft, deep voice that
felt to her like a caress.

"Are you?' she would ask in reply, and he would hold his
hand out to her.

He would begin to feel his groin tighten in anticipation, feeling
his member rise beneath the coverlet of his pallet. Shifting slightly so as to
make it less obvious, he would hold out his hand to her, and silently she would
come forward to take it.

She would kneel next to him, holding his hand in both of hers.
Reaching out, she would gently stroke his cheek as if to prove to herself that
he was real. Her fingers would trace the curve of his ear from the lobe to the
sensitive pointed tip, eliciting a small gasp from his lips. His gaze would
travel down her face and neck to the low scooped neckline of her nightgown, and
her nipples would harden of their own accord.

Gazing into her eyes as she lightly stroked his cheek, gasping as
her fingers touched the delicate point of his ear, he would run his fingers in
a feather light touch down the soft skin of her arm. Reaching his hand up, he
would run his fingers through the dark red curls that fell from her head in a
profusion, settling on the back of her neck.

Feeling a slight pressure from his hand on her neck, she would
allow herself to be drawn down, her lips only a hairbreadth from his, breathing
in his soft breath. Her eyes would close, and as she felt his soft, firm lips
claim hers, she would become aware of a sudden hot wetness between her legs.

He would pull her into a kiss that would begin as a soft, delicate
touch, but would soon deepen into a fire that would heat his desire to a
breaking point. He would throw back his coverlet, and, breaking the kiss, would
draw her gown up over her head, carelessly tossing it to the side.

Freed from the kiss as he worked her gown over her head, her
eyes briefly traveled the length of his exposed body, lingering a heartbeat or
two on his impressive tool, now fully engorged and beating with his lifeblood.
A small gasp would involuntarily escape her lips, and her eyes would make their
way quickly back to his.

Taking his time, he would let his eyes wander down her slender
neck, to her perfect globes with their rose-colored nipples hard and erect,
down to the dip of her waist and softly rounded hips that sheltered the small
patch of curls between her legs. A small intake of air would cause him to look
up to meet her eyes again, and he would pull her fully into his arms to comfort
her unvoiced concern.

Holding her in his strong arms, he would whisper softly in a
language her mind did not understand, but that her heart spoke fluently.
Knowing he sought to comfort her, she would give him a small smile, to which he
would respond with a kiss. Soon his tongue ran over her lips seeking entrance,
and her lips would part. Feeling his soft, warm tongue as it discovered her
own, she would wrap her arms around his back, feeling the hard muscles move
under his skin.

His lips would leave hers, to begin their journey down her throat
to her breasts. The fingers of one hand would softly rub the nipple of her left
breast, while his mouth gently nipped and suckled at the right. He would feel
her hands run through his hair, and hear her breath become quicker, matching
his own.

She would feel his hand slide down her belly, causing ripples
to run the length of her flesh. Gently pushing apart her thighs, he would find
within the wetness there the small nub that could remove all reason. Her breath
would begin to become ragged as he increased the rhythm of his ministrations,
and her hips would buck with the increasingly desperate need to feel him within
her.

Finally, feeling her time was near, he would back down between her
legs, sliding his hands under her hips to lift her gently, preparing her for
his entrance. Slowly sliding his member within her silky folds, he would let
out a long sigh from between his teeth. His hips would begin a slow rhythm,
gradually increasing in tempo, as her hips rose to meet his every thrust, her
moans joining his as they worked toward a final release.

It was then, at the very moment before their souls would become
one - at the instant before climax could take them soaring to the stars, that
she would awaken, alone on her bed, panting for breath, begging for relief.

His breath coming in ragged gulps, his hardened shaft pulsing with
desire, and unfulfilled passion, moaning, he would sit up on his pallet,
completely alone.

Sighing, she finally let her eyes drift shut, knowing sleep
would soon overtake her, and that the dream would haunt her yet another night.

Sighing, he finally let his eyes drift shut, knowing sleep would
soon claim him, and that the dream would haunt him yet another night.
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Dreams