Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Only One
By : HollyHobbit13
Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Crossovers
Views: 4470 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: See full disclaimer below.
Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
Gregory McGulloch stepped thru the door politely held open by the young man. Nodding his thanks, he surveyed the tastefully lit interior of his unique antique shoppe. Inside, Gregory’s assistant, Jacqueline was busy negotiating with an older Indian couple price of an antique he’d recently acquired in Istanbul. Spying her employer, Jacqueline excused herself and left the pair to inspect the piece they were interested in purchasing.
                  “Monsieur McGulloch, Duncan MacLeod est ici (is here).” She murmured. Gregory nodded and thoughtfully pursed his lips to disguise his tiny smile.
                  “Où est-il? (where is he)?” he asked, spying Joe in the corner; Gregory smiled in recognition.
                  “Dans votre bureau (in your office).” She replied. Her eyes narrowed briefly when she noticed Joe watching them. The Watcher flashed her an unapologetic grin. Jacqueline ignored it.
“Feront-ils un achat (will they be making a purchase)?.” Gregory asked, a discreet tilt of his head indicating the Indian couple.
“Naturellement ils . Bientôt ; très bientôt (of course they will. Soon; very soon.)” Jacqueline replied. Gregory noticed despite her polite tone and accompanying smile, her eyes remained cold and distant.
“Vous êtes très déterminé ; une qualité que je respecte fortement (You’re very determined; a quality I highly respect).” Gregory remarked, studying his employee.
“La détermination peut atteindre son objectif bien (determination can serve one well).” She replied coolly.
“En effet (indeed); merci, Jacqueline.”   The old gentleman said, dismissing her; nodding once before she left, Jacqueline returned to the couple. The business transaction resumed as the beaming woman nudged her reluctant husband, who was slow to remove his credit card from his jacket pocket. Making his way to the Watcher, Gregory held out his hand.
“Joe Dawson! Good to see you. I was beginning to wonder when you’d come.” The proprietor greeted him, a wide grin on his face.
                  “Thanks --- right back at you. Well, I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d check the place out.” Joe replied, making a show of looking around.
                  “And how are you finding things?” the older man inquired.
                  “Very interesting. I could spend a lot of time here. I’ve dabbled in antiques myself. Mainly rare books.”
                  “I see. You’re very knowledgeable in that area.” It was a statement.
“I know a thing or two.” The Watcher said modestly.
“Don’t we all.” Came the veiled reply. “What have you been doing since last we met?” Gregory asked.
                  “Nothing exciting. I’m tending my bar here in Paris. Stop by anytime and have a drink - on the house.”
“How kind of you! I just might do that. You are with Duncan, yes? I cannot imagine him without you close by.” Gregory’s pleasant face had a knowing look to it. The Watcher studied him. His gut instinct told him the older gentleman was sharper than he let on.
                  “Really. And why’s that?” Joe asked.
                  “You are good friends. Such are hard to come by these days.” The proprietor was interrupted as Methos walked up to them. Beside him stood the young man who held the door open for him.
                  “Gregory, I’d like you to meet -- ” Joe began.
                  “Adam Pierson.” Gregory interrupted the Watcher with a twinkle in his eye and a peculiarly delighted smile on his face.
                  “You two know each other?” the Watcher asked, surprised.
                  “We’ve . . . met before.” Methos said, giving Gregory an indecipherable look before shaking his hand and pulling the shop owner into a manly hug.
                  “How’ve you been, old boy?” Gregory asked, his eyes crinkling with good humor.
                  “Good. And you?”
                  “Busy.” Gregory said, before turning to the Watcher. He introduced him to the tall young man standing beside the Ancient One.
                  “Joe – I’d like to introduce you to this fine, young man; this is Caine Spencer, an old friend of ours.”
Interesting. Joe thought to himself.   The men shook hands and murmured the required niceties before Gregory excused himself.
                  “Well, I believe Duncan is cooling his heels in my office. Please, feel free to look around. If there’s anything that captures your interest, I am certain Jacqueline is able to assist you.” With that, the pleasant old gentleman disappeared down the hallway that led to his office, leaving the men to browse at their leisure.
                  “Caine Spencer. I’ve heard of you.”   Joe said, studying the young man; similar in height to Duncan and Methos, his golden head was a contrast to the dark Immortals. The Watcher glanced at Methos. The slight smile on the Ancient One’s face gave him a mischievous quality that Joe had not seen in quite a while. He wondered what thoughts were brewing in the Old Man’s mind.
Interesting crowd the Highlander’s mixing with.   Joe thought, with a touch of pride.
And rightly so, for the Clansman had the friendship and experience of the Oldest Immortal alive at his disposal, and thru him, a connection of sorts to the second oldest Immortal, Caine Spence, known as the Halcyon – a former student of Methos himself and a legend in his own right.
                  “Good things, I hope.” Caine replied. He glanced at his Mentor briefly before meeting Joe’s eyes, an easygoing smile on his youthful face.
                  “Depends on who you ask. Mostly good, in case you’re wondering.”
                  “Glad to hear that.” Said the soft-spoken Immortal. Watcher and Immortal studied one another, sizing each other up.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up. Adam, I’ll be in the map section.” Joe said. Methos nodded; Caine watched Joe’s retreating figure, not speaking until the Watcher was well out of earshot.
“You could’ve just told me, Caine.”
“And miss the expression on your faces? I think not.” The younger Immortal returned gleefully.
“Surprised?” Caine asked his friend.
“Yes and no; I almost didn’t recognize Gregory.” Methos replied.
“Does it matter?”
“No. I suppose it doesn’t. I look forward to catching up with him later. Were you able to find anything?” the Ancient asked.
“Maybe. Come look at this; I strongly recommend you take a lot with you.” With a mischievous grin, the Halcyon led the way to a glass display case; leaning on his elbows, he studied its contents.   Methos followed the direction of his gaze.
“Why these?” the Ancient One asked.
“Because they don’t take American Express.” Caine said, smirking. Methos smiled and nodded slowly, trusting his former student’s suggestion.
                  Inside the opaque globe, Jordan’s image appeared; she looked exactly the same as the day she vanished. Reading her lips, the Highlander made out his name as Jordan called, looking around. Climbing to her feet, she continued to call for him before she started walking. How much time passed? It was difficult for him to gauge; the scene shifted. Duncan watched as Jordan hid behind a tree; he couldn’t see what she was looking at. She turned to go when her eyes widened. In fear? Surprise -- or both? He couldn’t tell.
“What the-- !” with a strangled cry, the Highlander winced in sympathy as a. . . thing seized her by the throat and slammed her against the tree. Duncan watched intently as Jordan fought to free herself. Her image blurred as the smoke swirled, revealing another scene.
                  Jordan was fighting more of the dark ‘things’ when Duncan saw her attackers fall. She swung around as a new figure stepped towards his student, hiding her from view. The Highlander caught a glimpse of long, blonde hair and a quiver. A peacock was pressed into the leather.
                  “Duncan!” Concentration broken, the Scot looked up to see Gregory directly across from him, a questioning look in his sharp eyes.
                  “Gregory. I- I didn’t hear you.” Duncan mumbled; the Highlander felt like he was talking in a long tunnel. His voice sounded tinny and far away.
                  “That much was obvious, my boy. I called your name three times! What were you looking at?” the Highlander felt dazed as he watched his friend settle the black cloth back onto the crystal globe; its dark surface revealed nothing.
                  “What was I looking at? I’m not so sure myself.” Duncan replied, touching a hand to his forehead. He felt lightheaded and utterly exhausted.
                  “You look a little green around the gills, Duncan. Come. Sit down and collect yourself. Tell me how you’ve been.” Gregory led the Immortal to a chair before his desk. Giving the Highlander a gentle push, the old gentleman sat in his leather chair behind the desk. Studying the man before him, Gregory hid his smile.
                  “What has happened since last we met?” he asked, his face bland.
                  “So much, Gregory. I’m fine, but Jordan --you do remember her, don’t you?”
                  “Ah yes, the lovely Nurse who was staying with you. I remember her quite well. How is she?”
                  “I don’t know. She’s missing.”
                  “Missing you say?” The Highlander nodded.
                  “She disappeared shortly after your visit. It’s going on three months now.” The Highlander said grimly.
“Duncan . . . you must feel --- ”
“Like I’m going mad. I’ve done nothing since but search for her. The police can’t find her, there’s no ransom note. She’s not checked in with her job, and I don’t know what else to do. I’ve done everything I possibly can do to find her. She hasn’t contacted any friends – none of them know her whereabouts. This is totally out of character for her. She literally vanished off the face of the earth.” Duncan sighed and began to pace the room like a restless tiger.
                  “You care a great deal for her.” Gregory commented as he watched the Highlander stalk about.
                  “She’s more than a friend.”
                  “You love her.” It was a statement, not a question. Duncan turned to face his host.
                  “Yes.” Duncan said. His pacing brought him to a stop before a round shield.
“She means a lot to me -- I won’t rest until I find her. . . or discover what has happened to her. Whichever comes first.” Duncan sat back down in the chair. Stretching his muscular legs out, he studied the tips of his hand made Italian loafers.
#
Much could be said about a person and their personal habits by their intimate living space. Ascending the steps and crossing the balcony, the Elf stepped into Jordan’s quarters. The woman in his arms was busy kissing the strong column of the Elf’s neck; her lips brushed the line of his jaw, her hands buried in his silky hair. Scanning the room, Legolas’ observant gaze took in Jordan’s neatly folded clothes lying on a chair beside the table, the fire burned low in the hearth. It pleased him to see her weapons cleaned, the soiled cloths placed in a basket on the floor, neat and ordered. Walking to the side of the bed, the Elf gently set Jordan on her feet.
This is it . . . Jordan thought to herself, looking up at Legolas; her heart thudded almost painfully in her chest. The Immortal felt she was poised on the brink of great significance.
Wanting this moment with every fiber of her being, Jordan was suddenly overcome with shyness; keeping her eyes on Legolas’ boots, she trembled with a combination of dread, anticipation and desire. Suddenly, Jordan’s thoughts flew back to another night, so long ago, when she offered herself to another. . . the outcome had been less than desirable. Would history repeat itself? The Immortal hesitated, holding within herself a silent debate. The longer she hesitated, the more troubled she became by indecision and self-doubt.
“Mani naa ta, Melamin (what is it, my love)?” Legolas asked, for he didn’t need his heightened senses to tell him the woman’s ardor had cooled considerably. The desire in her eyes had vanished, to be replaced by . . . doubt?
“I. . . I don’t know if I can do this.” Jordan said, her voice soft.
“Cannot do what?” Legolas was certain her next words were not what he wanted to hear.
“This --!” exclaimed Jordan gesturing towards the bed.
“You do not wish to join with me?” Legolas’ voice was flat.
Not want to join with this splendid example of Elf kind? She would ‘join’ him wherever he went! Ever since she laid eyes on him, Jordan fantasized about nothing else. She wanted the Elf more than she could adequately express, for the powerful attraction had grown to such proportions, that the mere thought of the Elf brought a flush of warmth and a rush of color to her cheeks. At night, her vivid imagination obligingly conjured many racy images and thoughts of the Elf that left her trembling in her bed with unrequited desire. Even more than that, Jordan didn’t want to experience the humiliation of rejection; though the considerable bulge in the Elf’s leggings was a fair indication that rejection was not immediately forthcoming – at least on the Elf’s part.
I want it more than anything Jordan was about to reply. Instead, she heard herself say, “I need time.”
“Time? Time for what?” Legolas asked, taken aback.
“Time to make sure you really want me for me. I mean, how do I know you’re not seeing someone else, or just having your fun? I need time to really think about this, ‘cause I won’t jump into bed and ‘join’ with just anybody.” Jordan blurted, her words coming out in a heated rush.
Jordan spoke so quickly she wasn’t sure if the Elf understood her. Though it pained her greatly to admit her insecurities, Jordan did not want to swallow the bitter pill of disappointment -- again. On that ill-fated night, many moons ago, He rebuffed her advances; humiliated, Jordan left everything behind, taking only her passport and the clothes on her back. She boarded the first flight out, and swore she would never return to Paris. For many persons, the City of Light may be the most romantic destination in the world; for Jordan, it held nothing but bad memories, and a lesson well learned to guard her heart. Should things between her and the Elf sour, unlike home, there is no first flight out -- no place in Rivendell Jordan could flee to that Legolas would not be able to find her, no place to go to hide away and nurse her emotional wounds.
Jordan was prepared for his anger. She couldn’t blame him – not that she’d deliberately set out to tease or mislead him. Flirting was enjoyable – more so when she had no intention whatsoever of following through. With anything. However, things were different with Legolas, for Jordan was often rendered speechless in his presence.   The Immortal withdrew into herself as she stepped away from him, wrapping her shift closer around her, gripped by her doubts, torn by conflicting thoughts. Jordan had been told all her life that she was pretty – even described as beautiful by some, but in Rivendell, where Elven beauty eclipsed all else, the Immortal couldn’t help but wonder why. Why her?
Flattered by the golden Elf’s attention, Jordan didn’t mind the drugging kisses and fever-inducing touches. Who wouldn’t – especially when the Elf was Legolas? Now things were different.   Jordan wasn’t sure how long she would remain in Middle Earth, and the Immortal knew she was in very real danger of losing to heart (if she hadn’t already) to the Elf she fantasized about.    Would he do as her mother and all the matrons of her youth warned of, that once a man got what he wanted, the woman was discarded or merely regarded as a pleasure toy? The demon on her shoulder whispered into her ear.
Legolas isn’t a Man . . .why couldn’t she have some ‘fun’? No one would know. Her parents were long dead. There
was no one to hold her to the old fashioned standards she was raised to hold in high regard . . . Eternity to take lovers. Who better to start with than the fabled creature before her - - Not everyone could claim to have bedded an Elf. . .
Jordan was confused; her head spun with all the possible scenarios that ended with a bruised, or worse, broken heart. Hers. Legolas was speechless. Although her verbiage was completely unfamiliar, he understood its meaning. Was the woman blind?! Could she not see the effect she had on him? Jordan haunted his dreams -- filled his thoughts in ways that no other maiden had, or, he suspected, would ever do. By the Valar – this woman could be most frustrating! Wallowing in her doubts, Jordan started when she felt Legolas’ warm, strong fingers close around her wrist. Pulling her close, he held the compact beauty against him, grasping her chin gently between his fingers until she reluctantly looked up at him.
“Jordan, Jordan -- Elf kind are not fickle with their affections, Melamin.” He said.
Despite his soothing words, the Elf could see the shadows of doubt in her green eyes. Eyes he longed to see his reflection in. Legolas knew the only way to dispel the shadows from her eyes and mind would be to show her in no uncertain terms that his words and feelings were true.
“I see you before me, and none other, Jordan Waters.” He murmured before he kissed her roughly.
“You alone are the cause of this.” Legolas placed her hand over his swollen elfhood, as he moved his hips suggestively against her hand. Jordan blushed and tried to pull her hand back. The Wood Elf wouldn’t allow it; instead, he held her hand in place
“Don’t you trust me, Melamin?” he asked again.
Jordan opened her mouth to answer, only to close it quickly. The Elf stifled a white hot flash of disappointment as he released her hand. Surely they couldn’t have reached this level of . . . understanding without some measure of trust and feeling between them; apparently he was mistaken about that as well.
I must court the lady’s favor. . . he reminded himself. The Elf who never missed a shot wondered how to go about courting. He had not courted in Ages.
Damn it all to Mordor and back – why couldn’t it be simple?
No matter; he would wait for her. The rock-hard consequence of their love play was almost unbearable. His desire flamed like wildfire; he would allow her time to decide. Legolas fervently hoped she would not require much. The Wood Elf wanted more. Much more. Tasting the sweetness of her kisses, feeling her body beneath his hands and her enthusiastic response – only to be denied succour, would be most . . . disappointing. It took a great amount of self-control to pull back.
“How much time will you need?” Legolas asked tersely.
How much time will I need? Jordan mused, studying her toes. She remained silent so long, the Elf was convinced she was not going to answer; he sighed inwardly.
“Come to me when you are ready.” Legolas said through gritted teeth as he turned to go.
The Wood Elf stalked towards the balcony, his hands balled into tight fists at his side. The emotions and frustration churning within the Mirkwood Elf deem he leave post haste; needing release, he had every intention of going on his own Orc hunt.
Clarity. Something within Jordan shifted. The Immortal was tired – tired of the ‘what if’ game. Tired of guarding her heart, tired of expecting to be hurt, of seeing others find happiness and fulfillment -- while she looked the other way, pretending all was well. If mortals with their limited time on earth possessed the courage to love and love again in the wake of devastating heartache and heartbreak, could she do any less? The Immortal considered her options.
Don’t let him go . . . Jordan looked up.
Live the dream . . . her heart whispered. The Elf was already at the steps.
“Legolas. . .” it was hardly more than a whisper, but he heard her.
The Elf paused. Turning back towards the Immortal, Legolas waited to see what she would do. His blue eyes studied her face, trying to decipher her thoughts, for he could plainly see her indecision.   Before she lost her nerve, Jordan went to him. She looked up at the Elf and gave him a shy, tentative smile, trying not to flush beneath his steady, piercing gaze. Reaching for his hand, Jordan slowly curled her fingers around his and quietly led him back inside.
- 18
- 19
- 20
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Only One	By : HollyHobbit13 Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Crossovers Views: 4470 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: See full disclaimer below.

Only One