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.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
He wandered the outer edges of the Golden Wood, unsure of which
direction to take. Originally, he had thought to travel to Imaldris, thinking
to seek the advice of Elrond, the Half-Elven. He had thought that perhaps, with
Lord Elrond's own human heritage, he might be able to make sense of the dreams
and visitations. Now, however, he was not so sure he should seek the Lord of
Rivendell's advice on the matter. Elrond may have had human blood in his
history, but he was still a healer�he might still insist that the experiences
were naught but imagination, and that would be completely unacceptable. After
last night he knew without a doubt that he loved this human, though he didn't
even know her name.

Walking aimlessly along the shoreline, she gazed out at the
horizon wondering if it were possible that merely ocean waves separated her
from her dream lover, though in her heart, she knew they were isolated by much
more that mere water. For the millionth time she considered seeing a therapist,
and for the millionth time discarded the notion. Any reputable therapist would
certainly conclude that she was certifiable�a completely unacceptable diagnosis
as far as she was concerned. She had realized last night, when she found
herself back in her motel room, alone, that she loved him even though she
didn't know so much as his name.

Sighing, he turned his horse around and headed back toward Lorien.
Too long he had wavered in his decision to visit The Last Homely House�time
grew short and he would soon need to return to his post. Knowing he soon needed
to discuss the situation - he could not bring himself to resume his duties
while the visitations continued - he resigned himself to speaking with the one
person in Lorien with whom his trust ran deep�Galadriel, Lady of the Wood. He
had been hesitant to approach even she with his problem, fearing that the Lady
might think him soft in the head, but now he was desperate.

Heaving a great sigh, she turned from the water's edge, heading
back toward her motel room. Her vacation time would soon be ending, and she
would be forced to return to work or risk losing her job. Sadly, she realized
that she no longer had any choice in the matter - she would have to speak to
someone about her problem, and speak with them soon. It was on her way back to
the motel, as she walked the small boardwalk along the sandy beach, that she
spied the fortuneteller's sign in a shabby storefront. At first she shook her
head, laughing at her own folly for even considering forking over money for
some crackpot in a bandana and hoop earrings to spout drivel at her over an
overturned glass fishbowl, but she reconsidered after just a few steps. Why
not? Could the fortuneteller be any nuttier than she herself was at this
moment? She, after all, was the one having cross-dimensional, or time-warping,
or whatever it was, visits from a lover with silver hair and pointed ears.
Besides, right now, she was desperate.

He had just reached the outer walls of the great city of Caras

Galadhon, when a voice whispered in his head, as soft and gentle
as a summer's breeze. As always, he obeyed the voice immediately, hurrying
along toward the Royal Talan where Galadriel awaited him. He stood at stiff
attention before her, dreading her words, fearing the worst. Instead, after
having heard his fantastic tale, she smiled gently, whispering the answer to
his problem into his pointed ear. A smile crept across his face, a look of both
wonder and relief evident in his sparkling grey eyes. He left the talan,
knowing now what he needed to do; elated that his problem had been solved, but
a bit disappointed that the visitations would be ending very soon.

She opened the door to the fortuneteller's storefront, a small
bell tinkling overhead announcing her arrival to the proprietor. The
fortuneteller, a lithe, lovely woman of an indeterminate age, her long hair
flowing gracefully down her back in golden waves, sat straight on a chair in
the darkened room at a small round table. There was no shiny, crystal ball or
any gaudily colored tarot cards in evidence. The woman lifted her beautiful
countenance, staring at her with clear and kindly soft blue eyes. Crooking a
finger at her, the woman called her over, smiling gently, motioning for her to
sit. Her voice melodic and comforting, the woman solved the dilemma of the
visitations in a few, simple words. At first non-believing, she soon came to
understand the truth of the woman's words. Leaving the fortuneteller, she
smiled all the way back to the motel room.

Reaching his own talan, he set about getting comfortable for the
night. Undressing, he crawled under the sheet of homespun that covered his
pallet, praying she would come to him tonight so that he could end the
uncertainty and misery that both their lives had been encompassed by. Folding
his arms behind his head, he waited.

Opting to crawl between the cool sheets of the motel bed naked,
she fluffed her pillow before laying her head down upon it. Tension gripped her
as she prayed that she would be allowed to see him tonight�to see if the
fortuneteller's words were true. Eyes staring at the ceiling, the small piece
of paper gripped tightly in her hand as instructed by the fortuneteller, she
waited.

A sudden shift in the air currents signaled her arrival next to
him on the pallet. Smiling, he reached for her, but did not immediately claim
her, as had become his habit. Instead, he gently cupped her chin in his palm,
and asked her name.

Feeling the pull at the core of her being, she blinked, to find
herself looking into his beautiful gray eyes. He cupped her chin in his hand,
and whispered the words that the old fortuneteller had said he would, the ones
that she had explained the meaning of earlier in the day. He was asking for her
name.

She understood! Great Eru, Galadriel had been correct�this time
she had understood him! She spoke her name, to his ears the loveliest sounding
words ever spoken. He gave her his own name, although he was not sure she
understood. Nonetheless, he had her name! She had pressed a small piece of
parchment into his palm, smiling. He looked quickly at it, but the writings
made no sense to his eyes. Still, as Galadriel had explained, they would in
time. Leaning forward, still smiling, he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Her own smile broadened as she realized that he understood her�that
he now knew her name. Not understanding what he said next didn't matter. She
still did not know his name, but she would. She gave him the small rectangle of
paper, and threw her arms around his neck, joy apparent in her beaming face.
Meeting his lips with her own in a gentle kiss, she stroked the side of his
face, trying to memorize the feel of it.

Burying his face in her auburn curls, he breathed deeply,
committing her scent to memory. His hands roamed the contours of her body,
reveling in silkiness of her skin, his lips soon joining them on their journey.
Working his way down to her shoulder, nipping and tasting her, he tried
desperately to get his fill of her because it would have to last him. He was
certain this would be the last visitation they would have together.

She buried her hands in his long silken locks, her own lips
tasting the salty sweetness of his flesh, moaning as his lips found a nipple,
sucking hungrily. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt the pull at the core of
her being, signaling the end of their visit. Looking deeply into his eyes one
last time, she smiled, pressing a finger from her own lips to his. The last
image she had of him, one that was burned into her memory, was his own lips
forming her name.

In an instant she was gone, the taste of her still on his lips. He
sat up on the pallet, staring intently at the small square of parchment she had
given him. Thankfully it had not disappeared when she did, or all would have
been lost. He sent a silent, grateful prayer to the Valar for this one small
miracle. He would protect this parchment with his life, if necessary, for it
was the single most important document he would ever hold in his hands.

She was at her terminal at work, entering data at a feverish
rate, when the company's receptionist poked her head in the office to inform
her that she had a visitor. Rising from her desk, she ran her fingers through
her hair, straightened her dress, and went out to the reception area to see who
it was. She spotted him in an instant, standing tall, his back to her, staring
intently at the photograph of her on the wall next to the "Employee of the
Month" plaque. His hair was shorter - still not short by any means, but
not nearly as long as she remembered. It suited him. It was tied neatly at the
nape of his neck, that odd, beautiful silver color, covering his ears. His
pointed ears, she was certain. He turned, his gray eyes filling at the sight of
her. Her steps, at first slow and hesitant, became a running jump as she flung
herself into his arms.

There she was, in a photograph on the wall. All this time, all
these centuries, he had waited, patiently, knowing her time would come.
Finally, it was here, and no force on heaven or earth would tear her from his
arms this time. He felt her before he turned, his heart beating wildly in
chest, his nose catching her scent on the air. Turning, he felt his eyes well
with tears of joy, as she began to walk toward him. Catching her as she flung
herself at him, he claimed her lips in a fierce kiss that only centuries of
waiting could produce. Finally breaking the kiss, he gazed down into her eyes,
and spoke her name softly. Smiling, he pressed the small square of parchment, protected
now in a piece of clear plastic, into her palm.

She looked down at her hand, smiling at the age of the
weathered and fragile old paper. Her business card. The one with her company's
address and her name on it, that she had given him that last time they had been
together. Looking back up into his gray eyes, she heard the most wonderful set
of syllables ever uttered�

"My name is Haldir."

The End
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- 5
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Dreams