Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

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.

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Dreams Part 3

He sat on the hard, wooden floor of the flet, his hands working
expertly, but automatically, on restringing his bow, his mind far away from his
task. She was all he could think of�thoughts of her consumed his every
waking moment now, as much as the dream ruled his sleep every night. He
shifted, relieving some of the pressure at his groin, a constant reminder of
his fixation. Truly, such an obsession with the figure of a dream could not be
a welcome omen�he had oft times debated with himself in seeking the advice of
the healers. He worried that his preoccupation might dull his reflexes or
decision-making skills, affecting his command, a reaction that could not be
tolerated. Still, he procrastinated, in truth not wishing to hear from the
healer's mouth that the female of which he was so enamored did not truly exist
except in the overworked recesses of his mind.

Fingers flying over the keyboard, she entered the endless
stream of data as was expected of her in her job, but her mind was nowhere near
the computer terminal. Instead, her thoughts wrapped around a silvery haired
Elf, seeing clearly in her mind's eye the strong, sharp line of his jaw and the
steely, glittering depths of his gray eyes. Picturing him clearly in her mind,
she could nearly feel his heat. She became moist at just the thought of the
things he would do to her in her dreams�and saw with crystal clear recall the
sight of him pleasuring himself in the woods near her jogging track. Shaking
her head to try to bring herself back to reality, she once again wondered
whether she should seek professional help with her problem. Being so completely
obsessed with a hallucinatory creature might very well indicate a serious
psychological problem, but still, she didn't want to have a doctor confirm it.

Shouldering his re-strung bow and quiver, he thought a bath in the
nearby pond might help clear his head - allow him to relax and think rationally
again. Descending the enormous mallorn with an ease that only centuries of
practice could bring, he trotted the short distance to the pond. Quickly
shedding his clothing, he waded out into the warm water, then pushed off with
strong, sure strokes to the center of the pond. He sighed, turning to float in
the warm water, grateful that no one else had chosen that particular time to
bathe. He was not in the mood for idle chatter.

Sighing, she shut down her terminal, thinking that perhaps an
invigorating swim might help clear her mind. Grabbing her purse, she headed for
the spa she frequented, located close-by to her job. Signing in, she found her
locker, and, swiftly changing into her swimsuit, grabbed a towel, and headed
for the pool. Grateful that the pool was deserted - for she really was not in
the frame of mind to make small talk with anyone - she walked to the deep end,
and dived gracefully into the water.

He felt, rather than saw, a disturbance in the water nearly
directly beneath him. Instantly alert, he tread water, backpedaling away from
the disturbance, not daring to turn his back on this unknown and unsuspected
intrusion on his solitude. He cast a quick glance at the shore where his
quiver, bow, and knives lay near his discarded clothing. He was unarmed, but
whatever disturbed the water was coming up fast, and he could not hope to reach
the shore before whatever it was surfaced. His body tensed, fully prepared to
attack and defend himself from whatever it was that threatened with just his
bare hands.

She shot to the surface of the water, flinging her hair back
away from her face. Treading water, she noticed that someone was in the pool
with her. Frowning slightly, her first thought was of annoyance that her
solitude had been disturbed. Wiping the water from her eyes with one hand, they
finally focussed, shock registering in them as she realized that she was no
longer in the spa's swimming pool. She was in a small pond in a forest of
silver barked, enormous trees. Turning in the water toward the figure she had
seen when she first surfaced, her eyes widened as she recognized him.

He had lived long centuries, tens of them, yet had never been as
shocked as he was at that moment. It was she�here, in his pond, in
the flesh. Hesitantly, afraid that if he moved too quickly she would vanish before
his eyes, he swam closer. "Ton irin," he whispered, coming to rest
less than a foot away from her.

She shook her head unable to understand. "How did I get
here?" she asked, receiving a confused look in return. Evidently, while
they could understand each other in their dreams, language was a barrier in
real life. "Real life?" she thought to herself, staring at his
handsome countenance, "this has to be another dream�maybe I hit my head on
the bottom of the pool." Still, she couldn't deny that everything felt
very real to her�the water, the sun kissing her shoulders, her heart beating
wildly in her chest.

He saw the confused look on her face as he spoke, and did not
understand the jumble of syllables that flowed from her mouth in response. Not
that it mattered in the least to him. All that mattered was that she was here,
and all that he needed to do was reach out to touch her. Slowly he lifted a
hand from the water, reaching toward her face, afraid that his fingers would
find a barrier as they had in the forest. His fingers felt not a cold, hard
invisible wall, but soft skin, still wet from the waters of the pond. A smile
unlike any that had ever graced his face before turning up both ends of his
mouth in a wide delighted grin.

Closing her eyes for a brief moment as his fingers grazed
gently down her cheek, she realized that reality or not, what she had been
desperately wishing for all along had finally happened. Those were his fingers
touching the skin of her face, that was his breath she could feel, his broad
smile that warmed her. Tears began to well in her eyes, though a smile touched
her lips. as she lifted her own hand to gently stroke his smooth cheek, to
gingerly feel the wet, heavy strands of his silver hair.

Taking both her hands in his, he led her back toward the shore,
stopping when he felt his feet hit the sandy bottom. Standing, the water
reached his waist. He feared trying to bring her ashore, worried that if they
left the pond she might disappear like a water nymph. Taking a deep breath, his
arms encircled her, pulling her tightly to his chest, feeling her arms wrap
around his back. Clinging to her, he was nearly afraid to breathe, afraid this
wonderful apparition would fade from his arms like smoke. He buried his face in
her wet hair, breathing deeply of her fragrance.

She allowed him to pull her toward shore, but was relieved when
he stopped short of leaving the water. She was afraid that this wonderful
illusion would blow away like dandelion fuzz if they left the pond. When he
wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his strong chest, she clung to him,
gripping his back with all of her strength, as though the strength of her arms
alone would be enough to keep him with her. Her head lay on his broad shoulder,
her face tucked into the hollow of his neck as she inhaled deeply, filling her
senses with his scent.

Gently tipping her face up to his, he lowered his head, his lips
softly grazing hers. Feeling her arms wrap themselves around his neck, pulling
him closer, he pressed against her lips harder, relishing their softness, their
fullness, and their taste. His tongue tickled them, and they parted. Darting
inside, he tasted her for the first time, finding her sweeter than honey, as
her tongue swirled over his own.

His first soft kiss sent a bolt of fire through her belly, and
she could not help but pull his head closer to deepen it. She felt his tongue
against her lips, and eagerly opened them, wanting and needing to taste him.
His mouth was warm and moist, and tasted of sweetness as his tongue danced over
hers.

His skin rippled with pleasure as he felt her hands glide from
around his neck down to his shoulders, her fingers gently exploring. His own
hands slid down her back, feeling the heat from her body through the thin
fabric of the garment she wore. Slipping them up between their bodies, they
cupped her full breasts, still encased in the silky garment. Frustrated at not
being able to feel her skin next to his, he began to pull down the straps that
held the garment to her shoulders.

Feeling his hands tug on the straps of her swimsuit, she tried
to help him peel the wet suit off. She had grabbed the straps of the suit and
had just begun to help him pull them down, when she felt a pull on the very
center of her being. Suddenly, an unseen force was forcing her back into deep
water, leaving him behind, looking bewildered in the shallows. A cry of
defiance burst from her lips, but did nothing to slow whatever it was that
pulled her.

Shocked into stillness for a heartbeat by her swift departure from
his arms, he plowed into the water after her. Bellowing his anger at whatever
was taking her from him, he cut though the water trying to reach her. An
instant before his hand could close on her outstretched one, she disappeared
under the water. Diving again and again, he searched the dark bottom of the
pool, but to no avail. She was gone.

His primal scream echoed in her ears as she fought to reach his
outstretched hand. Their fingers brushed before she felt herself swiftly pulled
under the water. Surfacing just as she thought her lungs would burst, she spun
in the water looking for him. All she saw were the cold, white tiles of the
swimming pool, and the few scattered lounge chairs of the spa.

His fists beat the water helplessly, his anger boiling over into
incoherent screams aimed at the sky. Elves came running from all sides, but
none approached him, fearing the rage that contorted his face.

A sob bubbled up from her chest, as she gripped the side of the
pool. Torrents of tears rolled down her face unchecked. A few other patrons
entered the pool area, only to retreat from it, made uncomfortable by the
grief-stricken young woman clinging to the side of the pool.

Translation: Ton irin - it is you
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Dreams