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Practice Makes Perfect: A Smutlet in Three Parts	By : diablerouge Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 2734 -:- 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
- 1-Practice Makes Perfect: A Smutlet in Three Parts
- 2-Part II
- 1
- 2
Practice
Makes Perfect
(Part
II)
Opening the door raised an
impressive cloud of dust. Haldir�s face contorted with the hot, dry sting of an
impending sneeze. When the cloud settled
and he could see in properly, he was appalled at the state of his apartment in
Caras Galadhon. Cobwebs abounded. There was a thick, furry coat of dust on all
his possessions. He sighed. It had been a long time.
His bow and quiver he leaned by the
door, shutting it behind him. His eyes
adjusted quickly to the dim light inside. If
this night is to be a glorious one, he thought, then a bath is the first thing.
He removed his tunic and hung it on a peg by the door. As he crossed the main room to the bathroom,
he shed his clothing. By the time he
reached the chest by the bathroom door, he was utterly naked. He opened the large trunk which, though
grubby on the outside, contained clean towels and robes. He chose his favorite long, grey, silk robe--a far cry from his usual coarse working clothes. That and a large towel, he draped over his
arm and entered the bathroom.
Barrels in the canopy caught
rainwater. The sun heated it in the
day. And with
the pull of a lever, Haldir brought it sluicing down into his bathing tub. The water was not exquisitely hot, but warm
enough to steam. It had been so long
since Haldir had bathed anywhere other than the icy Celebrant. Hot water seemed to him delightfully frivolous.
As the water ran, Haldir trudged from
the bathroom to the kitchen.
He took a bottle from the wine rack
and opened it skillfully. From a
cupboard above the washbasin, he removed a crystal wineglass, much more
delicate than his usual ceramic mug, and filled it almost right up to the brim,
creating from the light that flickered behind it, a jewel of deepest crimson. He inhaled its bouquet with relish. He took a sip.
The saure libation piqued his taste buds. Though it was a sweet drink, it burned
pleasantly down his throat eliciting a guttural groan of enjoyment. In one hand, he carried his glass by the rim
and in the other he carried the bottle by the neck as he sauntered back to his
bath, altogether more contented that when he had left.
Once the tub was full, he stepped
in. He sat and leaned back, resting his
broad, sinewy shoulders and back against the inclined rear wall of the tub. For a while, he simply relaxed, sipping wine. His skin began to tingle pleasantly as the
alcohol took effect. He rested his glass
by the bottle on the stand beside him and submerged. When he resurfaced, he procured a lump of
soap from the toiletry cabinet by the tub and proceeded to scrub himself
briskly. The water turned milky quickly,
obscuring his body beneath it.
Clean at last, the elf reclined
once more, taking up his glass again. He
quickly drained it. Then, he took up the
bottle�
Feeling thoroughly more presentable
after his soak and more well prepared after his drink, clad all in grey silk,
the marchwarden made his way toward his destination. His feet carried him toward the heart of the
treetop city with little guidance from his wandering mind. His feet knew the way. Haldir had dined here with his Lord and Lady sometimes,
when his duties permitted.
His mind was elsewhere. Since his encounter with Galadriel, he had
been unable to reconcile his two opposing feelings on the subject. A part of him was exalted. It was true that he had not lain with a woman
in at least two centuries, if his final reckoning was, indeed, correct. He was delighted that she had chosen
him. That part, which was a bit more
primal than he generally cared to acknowledge, was nearly frenzied with
unbridled, animal lust. In fact, his
lust was a fierce animal. Her first
touch had awakened it. And now, it clawed and gnawed at him from within. That part was the one that seemed to be in
control of his feet.
The other part of him was
horrified. Her willingness to take him
into her marriage bed dismayed him. As
did his own complicity. This other part,
which was a bit more sanctimonious than he generally cared to acknowledge,
berated him for his lack of self-restraint.
A lack he was now quite confident would eventually get him into
trouble. The idea that this might be a
trap, a test of his loyalty rather than of hers had certainly occurred to
him. This part, he had almost completely
managed to drink into submission.
And then
he was at her door. The moment of
decision seemed to stretch out before him.
If he meant to decline her generous offer and return to his post, this
was his last opportunity. But what a generous offer it was. He stood there, mulling. Then he had knocked, and it was too late.
�Come in,� he heard. With his ears or his mind, he wasn�t sure. Either
way, he obeyed. He opened the door only
enough to admit his lithe form and shut it soundlessly behind him. The sight that greeted him was nothing he
would have imagined in even his most creative fantasies. The Lady of the Golden Wood stood before him. Her long, palest gold hair cascaded down over
her shoulders, covering her breasts. Her
skin, which previously had seemed to glow from within, now also twinkled like
the face of the night sky in the bluish faerielights.
Sliver and gold were the dwarves�
weaknesses. The elves, though, found
endless fascination in the shining depths of jewels. As he drew nearer, Haldir realized that it
was not her skin that sparkled, but the intricate web of mithril
and diamonds she wore. The garment, if
it could be called such, was masterfully crafted. Each diamond was uniquely
cut to best show its fire. It could only have been a product of Durin�s
folk, he was sure.
The marchwarden speechlessly
admired his queen. Her
every minute movement, even that of her breathing, caused the stones to flash
brilliantly. Haldir was so mesmerized by their beauty that he barely noticed her
otherwise absolute nudity. She was
unsurprised. Celeborn had had a similar
response when she�d first donned it for him after he�d
commissioned it from Moria.
Gradually, though, Haldir did
become aware of her body beneath. If all
women, the thought, were as beautiful as she, he could
not have foregone them so long.
�Wine?� she asked cordially, making
her graceful way to the table. Soft
light danced over her alluring form. He
could only stare, transfixed. She took
his silence in the affirmative and poured two glasses of claret so rich that he
needed only to smell it to taste it and only to taste it to know it was the finest
wine he would ever encounter. She smiled
warmly, indulgently as she padded across the room, holding the glass out to
him. He took it. The wine was, indeed, the finest he had ever
tasted.
Now that she was so close, he
suddenly felt a bit overdressed. Drink
had also warmed him past the point of comfort.
He undid the toggle highest at his throat.
�Please. Make yourself
comfortable,� she smiled radiantly. He
returned it, a little nervously, and took another large sip before he began to
unfasten his robe.
�I am at your service,� he said,
mantle open from neck to hem. Galadriel
surveyed him appraisingly. Her eyes
moved over his broad, strong chest, down his taught belly, over his jutting
hips, and down his well-muscled legs.
She was pleased with her choice.
Gently, she set her glass and his
on a nearby table. Then, she took a step
toward him. She was so close. He could feel the heat of her body, feel her
energy connecting with his own, encompassing them both. Long fingers stroked his chest. Silk caressed his golden skin as she pushed
the robe from his shoulders. It fell
like a shadow from him. He stood tall and proud before her, an Adonis, presenting himself
for her inspection. She drew
nearer still.
�My service? No,� she whispered, her voice sultry in his
ear. �This night is for you, Haldir. You must tell me what you desire.� He was, again, rendered
speechless.
�Galadriel, I�I cannot. Already, I owe you too much,� he said.
�You owe me nothing,� she said with
a hint of annoyance
�Please, my lady I desire nothing
more than to serve you.�
�No,� she said simply. Contempt was etched
on her face. A lesser elf would have
quailed under such a look. It awakened
in him something akin to defiance. But her silver-blue eyes told a different tale. There, for a moment, Haldir thought he saw a
flicker of pleading. Yes, that was
it. Her eyes implored him. At last, he understood. The marchwarden drew himself
up importantly. His eyes and voice,
among other things, hardened. When he
spoke, it was with an authoritative, even menacing growl.
�I will not tolerate
insubordination, woman.�
She was pleased�very pleased. Her eyes sparkled more brilliantly than did
any of the magnificent jewels she wore.
He was relieved when she smiled.
That answer had been the right one.
�I will have you,� he rumbled
fiercely, stepping toe to toe with her.
Tall as she was, he towered over her.
Galadriel had long since wiped the gleeful smile from her face and
replaced it with an insolent smirk.
�Will you?� Her haughty disdain was convincing. �And if I refuse?�
�I will take you.�
�Then take me. If you can,� she purred. She turned from him, leaving him intrigued, momentarily perplexed, and quite naked. He watched her gloriously bejeweled haunches
sway as she walked away. The sight of
her lovely back sent a curious thrill through him. Hot, predatory lust coursed through him. It ached within him, slavering to be released. He
longed to rush her back, bear her to the ground, and possess her. Instead, he appreciated the view for a moment
longer as he gulped the remainder of his excellent glass of wine, then strode after his quarry.
Galadriel was already curled on the
mattress behind gossamer drapes by the time he�d
finished his glass and crossed to the bedroom.
Her glittering raiment lay neatly across a chair by the door. She said nothing as he stalked toward the
bed. His unwavering, steel-grey gaze was
voracious. Now that she had laid the
game, he was eager to play.
She watched him keenly, marking his
every sensuous movement as he advanced.
Her large, almond eyes followed him, unblinking, as he prowled just
outside the diaphanous curtain. Haldir
found an opening and flung back the curtain that was little more than a haze.
�Lie down,� he instructed. She stared at him, incompliant. Then, slowly, not breaking eye contact, she
sprawled out on her stomach. �I said,
�lie down�,� he growled.
�And here I lie,� she purred. She wrapped her long fingers loosely around
his rapidly stiffening shaft. It was a
struggle, but Haldir managed to give no sign of the ecstatic thrill that
coursed through him at her touch.
�Did I tell you that you could have
that?� In answer, she tightened her grip
a bit, craned her long graceful neck so that he could feel her breath, warm on
his member, and gently kissed the tip of his now fully inflamed manhood. He was unable, this time, to contain a soft
whimper. It was all
the encouragement she needed.
Before he could master himself, she took his entire length deep, to the
back of her throat. Her tongue was
pleasantly rough as she worked it languidly over the underside of his yearning
flesh. The intensity of sensation
rendered him temporarily unable to breathe.
His hot, callused hands found her shoulders roughly as his legs nearly
gave way beneath him.
�No!� he gasped. Surprised, she stopped and looked up at him
quizzically. �Lie down on your back,� he
said, panting a little. Instead, she
began to suck gently at his flared, fleshy head. He had nearly forgotten that women did
this. He had completely forgotten that
it felt so good. But
good as it felt, he had told her to lie down.
He sensed that if he let her continue much longer against his own
command, she would not respect him, or worse, not invite him back. He mustered all his determination and
considerable strength. �I said, �lie
DOWN!� he bellowed. Then, with one
mighty heave, he sent her sprawling on her back across the expansive bed.
Propelled by his powerful legs,
Haldir vaulted onto the bed, landing between her spraddled
thighs with enough force to bounce her.
Immediately, her scent was strong in his nose, intoxicating him.
�Close your eyes,� he
instructed. This time, she obeyed. Softly, he stroked her creamy thighs, opening
them a little wider. He pulled himself
closer to her fragrant center. His nose
brushed her soft, golden curls as he parted her. Her flesh was slick. Slowly, deliberately, he ran his upward, barely
penetrating her tight opening, continuing up to the small sensitive nub
above. There he paused to circle
torturously slowly, never quite contacting it.
She moaned. He tasted her more
deeply, savoring her earthy tang.
Soon her fingers began to knot in
his long hair, urging him on. Instead,
he stopped. He took her wrists roughly
and pinned them at their sides. He
looked up at her. Her eyes begged him to
continue, but that was not enough.
�Tell me what you want,� he
instructed.
�I want to pleasure you,� she
smiled down at him.
�And I�,� an impish grin spread
over his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes, ��want to pleasure you.�
�Why?� she asked
plaintively.
�Because it�s been ages since I�ve
tasted a woman. And because I said so,�
he growled, burying his face in the soft, warm, pink between her thighs. He began to flick his tongue lightly and
rapidly over the bud of her clitoris.
Her sharp intake of breath pleased him.
His thick shaft began to harden again at the sound. He shifted slightly to alleviate the
pressure. Then, he set about his task.
It had been quite a long time since
he had last done this, as well. After
nearly an hour, his mouth was very tired.
His shoulders and arms ached from holding her wrists at her sides. Try as he might, he could not bring her to
climax. He was out of practice. At last, the fatigue conquered him. Almost before she realized that his cunning
tongue was no longer teasing at her precious pearl, it was teasing her pink
nipple instead. He still held her wrists
at her side. Little by little, he eased
himself forward. He used his strong
thighs to spread her legs wider and encourage her to tilt her hips up toward
him. Then, they were face to face.
�Kiss me,� he instructed. She obliged, immediately and
enthusiastically. And
just as her lips came into electrifying contact with his, she felt the tip of
his thick organ begin to strain against her small opening. Galadriel had waited as long as she had been
able. Celeborn had been gone far too
long. She longed for him to penetrate
her, to bury his length deep within her.
But he did not.
He kissed her hungrily as he gyrated his slim
hips, tormenting her cruelly. Then, suddenly,
her skin prickled in the cool air when Haldir sat up abruptly on his
knees. He looked down at her
arrogantly. �Now. Ask to draw my bow,� he instructed, well
knowing how foolish it would sound when she did.
�Please may I�,� she paused, unable
to completely contain the little smile that curled the corners of her mouth, ��draw
your bow,� marchwarden?�
�What nonsense is that? Say what you mean,� he sneered. Galadriel chewed her tongue for a moment,
deciding how bold she should be. When
she met his proud gaze, her icy eyes were smoldering.
�Let my mouth be your
pleasure. Let me draw out the fever of
your blood. Let me call out your seed
with my clever tongue, Haldir, please,� she entreated, simultaneously wise and
innocent, perilous and beautiful.
�To it then, woman,� he said more
bravely than he felt. She did not wait
for further invitation. His commanding
tone stoked her enthusiasm. She did not
tease or try him. Instead, she pounced
on him, knocking him off his balance. He
landed flat on his back amidst the mass of rumpled covers.
�Yes, sir,� she grinned up at him
impishly as she positioned herself between his thighs much as he had before; though,
she expected him not to last long enough for her jaw to get sore. She grasped his smooth shaft.
A chill rippled up his spine when
he saw Nenya sparkling up at him from her white hand. The mithril band
was surprisingly cool against his sensitive skin. Then, suddenly, from the great ring emanated a strange warmth. It
coursed through him, and encompassed him.
It was quite unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was as though she had tapped his own life force and intensified it. He felt impossibly young. The world around him was suddenly vibrant in
a way it had not been in a dozen centuries.
Not since his metamorphosis into manhood, since his first clumsy
encounters had a woman so overwhelmed his senses.
Immediately, Haldir knew that the
irresistible tide of sensation would quickly bear him over the brink. He gave himself over to her, surrendering
completely. He made no further effort
control himself. Still, it would be
several minutes of exquisite torment before Galadriel granted him the release
he so desperately needed. He watched as,
achingly slowly, she began to stroke his almost painfully engorged shaft. First, up she stretched the fleshy cowl to
cover the flushed head. She availed
herself of the large, warm bead of lustrous fluid his body provided her. Then, with the added lubrication, she glided
her hand lightly down his considerable length.
She watched his reaction with
enormous satisfaction. His eyes closed,
and his head fell back onto the mound of tangled sheets and blankets as hips
rose sharply to meet her. The muscles of
his broad chest, well developed from twelve hundred years of wielding a bow, strained
as he clutched at the sheets. A throaty
groan sounded his approval. But she did not continue, and Nenya�s
warmth diminished in him.
Lightly, she rested her hand on the
patch of fine, sliver-blonde fuzz that covered his groin. Pleading words were on his lips, almost said
before he remembered their game. His
eyes snapped open. He propped himself up
on his elbows and looked down at her, arching a supercilious eyebrow. He found her grinning back at him. With impressive speed, he took hold of the
thick hair at the nape of her neck. Roughly as he dared, he pulled her down so that her soft
lips rested against the tip of his throbbing manhood. He mustered one last command, and with a deep
breath,
�I said, �TO IT!�� he bellowed. His air dissolved, and his eyes widened as
she showed her teeth, resting them gently on his flesh. She closed the long fingers of her other hand
around the base of his shaft and squeezed hard.
Haldir gasped with the hot pain that enraptured him. He watched as the entire length of his member
disappeared between her full lips. The
warm, moist of her mouth pressed in on him.
He kept hold of her hair, but let her move freely as she bobbed her
golden head up and down. Occasionally,
she stopped to pay particular attention to the upswept head or to the fine
purse that hung between his thighs, and the delicate orbs it contained.
Gradually, she increased her pace
until she reached a brisk allegro. He
felt release maddeningly close, but her tempo remained constant and it came no
nearer. Then, she switched hands. She did it so deftly that he did not realize
it until Nenya�s strange power again began to elevate
his senses. The tension that had been
gathering low in his belly spread quickly throughout his body. Fine sweat broke on his high brow. She continued faster, harder until, at last,
the warm spurt of his seed on her tongue was her reward, and she swallowed it
gladly. His hands clutched at her as the
spasmodic contractions of orgasm wracked him, rendering his powerful body, at
last, mercifully relaxed. Finally released. Her
skin was cool against his when she lay down beside him.
�Thank you, my lady,� he
panted. He took her hand and kissed it,
then held it to his chest so she could feel how his heart pounded.
�After that, you must call me by my name,� she smiled,
kissing his cheek.
�Of course�Galadriel,� he smiled
back, kissing her lovely lips lightly. Then,
a thought dawned on him, and he looked away, suddenly.
�What is it, Haldir?� she asked.
�You have been so kind to me. And I�I�m sorry I could not�,� he trailed off
unable to finish. She laid a hand on his
square jaw and gently turned him to face her again. She smiled.
�Practice makes perfect, my
friend. I intend to see that you get
plenty of practice from now on.� And with that, she nestled her face against his neck and
closed her eyes. Gratitude welled up in
him, choking off his words for a time.
�Thank you, Galadriel. Ever will I be at your service,� he managed
at last.
�I will hold you to it,� she
laughed. She kissed his neck just below
his ear. Her kiss branded him with a
small purple bruise. It would be gone in
a few hours� time, but, for now, it stood out dark on his clear skin.
The pair talked a little more, but soon, both slept.

END-Part II�A/N: Stay
tuned for the exciting conclusion to Practice Makes Perfect: A Smutlet in Three Parts
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Practice Makes Perfect: A Smutlet in Three Parts