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. |
Dreams Part 4
A sabbatical. That was the reason he gave when he formally
requested to be relieved of his duties for a short time. After several
centuries of uninterrupted, untarnished service, he said that he felt that he
needed and deserved a respite. Secretly, he thought himself losing his grip on
reality and feared a resulting, unacceptable lapse in his decision making
skills. He would not, could not, allow his potential deficit to jeopardize his
command, and had therefore acted in his usual decisive manner by requesting leave.
Whether His Lordship suspected an underlying cause was moot - his request was
granted, and that was all that mattered.
A vacation. That was the reason she gave for requesting time
off from work, saying that she felt she was burnt out and needed a rest. Truth
be told, she was afraid she was losing her mind. She worried about what might
happen if she should have one of her "episodes" while at work, in the
presence of others. The least result might be the loss of her job; the worst
might be a visit to the state psychiatric ward. Neither scenario was
acceptable, and so she opted to take her accrued vacation time instead. Whether
her boss suspected a different reason for her petition didn't matter in the
slightest - her request for vacation time was approved, which was all that
mattered.
He pondered the events of the past few weeks as he made his way
eastward. The encounters had been increasing in frequency, and the resulting
physical strain was showing in his demeanor. He knew that he was even more
abrupt than usual, more critical. His nerves were stretched taut, and he knew
not how much more it would take before they snapped altogether.
Thinking over the episodes of the last month, she sat quietly
on the bus heading west toward the shoreline. She didn't trust herself to
drive, frightened at the thought of being pulled into that other place without
warning; of losing control of her vehicle. The encounters were coming more and
more often, and the strain of it all was beginning to show in the dark circles under
her eyes. Her hands often shook now; she jumped at the slightest sound.
That day in the pond was etched forever in his memory, although it
was only the first of several more furtive meetings. Never did they meet for
long, never were they more intimate with each other than a sweet kiss and a
momentary embrace. His face softened for a moment, thinking of her warmth and
the way her eyes always looked when she recognized him. Not for the first time
did he wonder who this human was and why he was so drawn to her. So wrapped in
thoughts of her was he, that he nearly missed the flet where he planned on
spending the night before continuing his journey.
Closing her eyes, she remembered their first meeting in the
flesh, when she had dove into a swimming pool and surfaced in the waters of a
freshwater pond to find him waiting. Her lips burned with the memory of his,
soft, warm, and hungry. The instant of fear she felt each time she found
herself in his world was immediately calmed by his embrace. She didn't even know
his name - no time together was wasted on words. They both realized by now that
their meetings were always too brief and fleeting for any attempt at
conversation. She was so completely engrossed in her thoughts of him, that she
nearly missed her stop.
Easily scaling the tree, he reached the wooden flet and set about
making himself comfortable. Stripping to the waist, he removed his boots,
making himself comfortable on the old pallet as he rummaged through his
haversack for the rations he had brought with him. Drinking deeply from the
waterskin of wine he had thought to bring, he allowed himself a heavy sigh.
Never before in his long life had he felt such a mixture of confusion and
longing. He ate his dinner in a desultory manner, barely tasting the food.
Pushing the remnants to the side, he removed his leggings and stretched out on
the pallet, willing himself to relax and his eyes to glaze with sleep.
Unlocking the door of the motel room, she threw her overnight
bag on the small table near the window. Showering quickly, she towel dried her
hair, barely conscious of her activities as her mind played and replayed each
of their meetings. Popping open a can of soda and a small bag of chips that
would serve as her dinner tonight, she turned on the television in an attempt
to distract her thoughts. Finding the drivel on the tube annoying rather than
soothing, she turned it back off, and unpacked her bag. Changing into her
nightdress and climbing into the rather lumpy bed, her last conscious thoughts
were, of course, as always, of him.
No matter how deeply he slept, he was always aware of his
surroundings at some level, a tiny part of his mind ever alert to danger. So it
was that, in the wee hours of the night he awoke, his eyes snapping open,
brought instantly alert by a small movement at the entrance to the flet. Even
as he focussed on the figure in the doorway, his hand was searching for the
small throwing knife he kept near the pallet, within easy reach. A gasp escaped
his lips as he realized who his visitor was, his hand freezing just as his
fingertips touched the handle of his knife.
She looked into the dark room before her, her hand on the
doorframe, willing her eyes to adjust to the dimness within. Her gaze fell on
the figure reclining on the floor, on a low bed. They widened with recognition,
and for an instant she thought it was the dream again. Then she felt the cool
night breeze on her skin, smelled the hint of old smoke that permeated the
often used ancient wooden shelter, and knew it was not. Her eyes met his, then
traveled briefly over his fine features, his silver hair that gleamed white in
the pale moonlight, his strong, muscled chest that disappeared underneath the
sheet of simple homespun.
Widening, his eyes took in every detail of her presence, from the
tumble of deep chestnut curls that fell past her shoulders, to the soft curves
and valleys of her body draped in the fine gauze gown. Although she was back
lit by the silver moonlight, her features indistinct, he knew immediately who
it was. He could smell her fragrance from where he lay, his hands already
itching to hold her. Reaching up, he held his hand out to her, and she came
forward to take it, kneeling next to him, holding it to her cheek before gently
kissing the palm. His free hand reached for her, pulling her down to into his
arms, reveling in the softness of her skin, the beauty that filled his eyes and
touched his very soul.
She trembled, a sob very nearly escaping her chest, tears
stinging her eyes. This was the most cruel visitation yet, this recreation of
the dream. She knew that it would not last long enough for them to see it
through to the end, and her heart wept at the knowledge that she would soon be
pulled back to the empty hotel room, her bed cold and empty.
He felt her shaking, and responded by tightening his embrace. He
softly kissed her forehead, his own eyes welling up, for he knew with a
certainty that they would not be together for long. A part of his mind
rebelled, anger welling from his depths at the cruelty of this visit. Knowing
that they would not be together long enough to make the dream a reality twisted
his gut with pain, longing, and sorrow. He crushed her to him, wishing that his
arms alone were enough to keep her with him, but knowing in his heart that they
were not.
She began to softly keen her sorrow, burying her face in his
chest, her arms clinging to him as fiercely as his were to her. She couldn't
take anymore of thisÉshe didn't understand it, didn't understand why whatever
forces were at work were determined to break her heart. Her tears wet his
chest, and she felt his own dampen her hair. Anger mixed with sorrow, her
fingers digging into the muscles of his back. She felt his hand lift her chin,
felt his warm, soft lips kissing away her tears, heard his soothing voice
whispering to her in his language.
More than anything he had ever wanted in his life, he wanted,
needed, to ease her sorrow. His own heart wept at the sound of her soft cries,
bled at the feel of her tears. He kissed each crystal drop that found its way
to her cheeks, murmuring endearments, trying desperately to console her.
Finding her lips at last, he softly claimed them with his own. The tender
kisses became more passionate, as she parted her lips for him, inviting him to
explore. His tongue slipped between them, becoming more insistent as it met
hers, tasting her, wanting her, needing her.
Just as she began to respond to his passionate kiss, she felt
the pull at the core of her being that always signaled the end of their visit.
She resisted, clutching his back, wrapping her legs around him, trying to meld
her body with his and not submit to incessant pull. Burying her face in the
crook of his neck, she cried a prayer that she be allowed to stay in his arms.
Feeling her stiffen, he knew from experience that she was being
pulled away from him again. His arms strengthened with resolve; iron bands
holding her to his chest. Together they fought against the force that pulled at
her, each moaning denials in their own language. Feeling her slipping away,
even as he tightened his embrace, he shouted a prayer for intercession, begging
to be allowed to keep her in his arms.
The very air around them swirled and crackled with energy. A
loud buzzing filled her ears, as she clung to him on the pallet, the entire
floor of the flet seeming to ripple beneath them like waves on the water.
Keeping her face buried in each his shoulder, she doggedly hung on, stubbornly
refusing to allow the separation to take place this time.
Slowly, the movement stilled, and the air became calm, the only
sound that of their own breathing. He could hear a heart beating wildly,
realizing with surprise that it was both his own and hers beating in tandem. He
took no more notice of this surprising development, instead pouncing on the
opportunity afforded them by some, he was certain, intercession of the gods. He
lifted her chin from his shoulder, sliding his hand to the back of her head
beneath her soft auburn curls, and devoured her mouth with a hunger that surprised
even he.
She had no time to revel in the fact that they were still
together, instead returning his ardent kisses with those of her own, matching
his passion. Feeling his mouth open, she slipped her tongue between his lips,
her hands entwining their fingers in the strands of his long silky hair,
pulling him even further into the kiss. Her legs, still wrapped around him,
used their leverage to press her body into his, bucking gently on his thigh,
the wetness between them apparent. She felt his erection, hard and hot,
pressing against her stomach, and moaned her need into his mouth.
He paused only long enough to rip the thin material from her body,
not caring a whit at the tearing sound it made beneath his strong fingers.
Instantly, his hands were everywhere, stoking and kneading her soft flesh,
travelling the paths that his mind's eye knew well, but his hands and never
before traveled. Knowing that she could still be swept away from him at any
moment, it was passion he allowed to rule, hungrily trying to devour her all at
once, like a feast set before a starving beggar for a few precious moments
only. Slipping his hands between her thighs, he sighed at the heat and moisture
as he found her more than ready to take him. Rolling her onto her back, he
slipped his hands beneath her thighs, raising and separating them, his organ
pulsing painfully now.
Running her hands up and down the hard, sculpted muscles of his
chest and abdomen as he reared between her legs, she fought against closing her
eyes to the passion she was feeling, wanting to memorize every line of his face
and body. She felt the head of his erection probe gently at her opening, and
she moaned loudly for him to enter her, begging him to fill her. Her back
arched as she felt him slide his length within her, barely feeling him break
through the barrier of her maidenhead. There was no pain, only waves of
pleasure coursing through her as he increased the tempo of the music their
bodies were making, his own moans filling her ears.
Faster and faster he slammed his length into her, her tightness
and heat driving him closer and closer to release, praying that she would find
hers before he. He felt her muscles tighten and begin to spasm, as her cries of
ecstasy reached his ears, her back arching from the pallet, and finally allowed
himself to be sent over the edge, crying aloud himself as he spilled his seed
deep within her. He collapsed on top of her, his elbows supporting most of his
weight, but his body pressed to hers, still joined. Kissing her tenderly, he
bent his head to rest a moment in the soft flesh of her neck, before rolling to
her side, finally separating them. Embracing her, holding her close, he
whispered his heart's deepest feelings into her sweet smelling hair. No sooner
did the words leave his lips, that he found himself holding empty air; his
lover once again torn from his arms.
Lying cuddled against his chest, she became aware of the
familiar pull, this time sighing sadly, but not fighting against it. Instantly,
she found herself clinging to the pillow of the hotel bed, alone, but comforted
at least by the memory of the feel of his body joined with hers.
He folded his arms beneath his head, his eyes searching the cracks
of the flet roof for answers to the myriad of questions that kept flashing
through his mind. The most important question, the one that superceded all
others was, after having been allowed that most precious gift of joining with
her, would he ever see her again? The possible answers to that question kept
him awake for the remainder of the night.
Tossing and turning, her mind refused to quiet enough for her
to sleep. She spent the remainder of the night with her mind demanding a
solution to the unanswerable question that plagued her heart. After finally
being allowed to make love to him, would she ever see him again? She wept
silent tears at the uncertainty and pain that gripped her very soul.
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