Chapter Text
Mairon treaded through a dark forest. Thick clouds concealed the stars and moon above. But he could not stop. He could not rest until he found… What was he searching for? How had he arrived here?
Then he saw a light amongst the trees, glowing softly through the fog. The light called to something deep inside him, and his feet led him towards it without another thought.
The fog dispersed, and the trees opened to a cliffside littered with large stones from ancient structures long crumbled.
He finally found the source of light standing at the cliff’s edge. She was more beautiful than Telperion. More radiant than Laurelin.
Beyond her was a black abyss.
“There you are,” Mairon said, relief spreading through his chest. Galadriel smiled at him and held out her hand.
He grasped it and reeled her in for a tight embrace, away from the darkness looming behind her. He would have to be more careful and keep her close. He couldn’t lose her again.
But as soon as she embraced him in return, she gasped and jerked out of his hold as if burned. Raw fear gnawed at Mairon’s insides as he looked her over for injury.
A spot of blood had blossomed above her heart, spreading like a flower opening its many petals, dripping a vibrant red onto her white gown. Galadriel watched in quiet shock as the wound blackened. Dark veins extended from the center of the wound, smoking and sizzling as if on fire. She looked up at Mairon with horror. With heartbreak.
Something in his chest shattered. He could not let this happen. He had to save her, to heal her. But when Mairon reached for Galadriel, her features hardened with hatred. She took a step back. Then, she fell out of his reach into the void of darkness.
Mairon’s eyes flew open, his heart racing, an unfamiliar wetness in his eyes.
Beside him, Galadriel stirred. Mairon held his breath, but she only nuzzled closer to his warmth and continued sleeping.
Her chest, pale and unmarred, rose and fell steadily. Still, he couldn’t resist reaching out with a feather-light touch to assure himself that the flesh over her collarbone remained unbroken. His fingers brushed over skin smooth as silk. He pulled back before the temptation could overcome him to explore further.
He thought of how her breasts fit perfectly under his hands. He could still hear the sweet echoes of her breathy moans when he had taken her in his mouth, and she had arched against him.
He wanted to sear into his memory the desperate way she clutched him as she fell apart so beautifully under his touch, her mouth open, her eyes wide, her whole body shaking like a leaf in the wind.
The awe in her gaze had been most thrilling. Pride was not enough to describe how he felt, knowing he caused Galadriel to lose all control of her body for the first time in her life.
“What did you do to me?”
The real question was, what had she done to him?
Mairon could not remember the last time he had fallen into a proper slumber. The human fana he wore did tire, but he could resist by spending a little power or recovering with a brief rest.
He hadn’t even meant to sleep, only pretending at first while resisting his urges to discover yet another way to make Galadriel tremble under his touch.
Mairon now understood why Tulkas had slept so deeply after his wedding night.
In all Mairon’s past explorations of carnal pleasure, he had not felt so affected within his very spirit as he did by Galadriel.
He felt a deep desire to possess her, to never let her go.
It was madness.
He should take her brother’s dagger from where it lay among her discarded white trousers and slit her throat. Before she did the same to him. And she would, once she knew who he was.
Then, he would be free of the hold she had on him.
But he could not reach for the knife. The thought of holding it to her flesh made his insides turn. His nightmare washed over him again, the sight of blood blooming from her chest, and he shuddered.
What had Galadriel done to him?
He was no elf designed by Eru to be compelled to an eternity of commitment after consummation.
Yet Galadriel dominated Mairon’s every thought from the moment he first saw her in the waves of the Sundering Seas. And now, he felt an absurd desire to cleave to her side, to bind their two spirits as one.
It had to be the elf’s fault, her thoughts spilling into his mind and beguiling him.
He cursed himself for inviting her over to see the armor. She didn’t even need to know he had made it. The palace armorer offered to have it retrieved and delivered to her in the morning.
But he had not thought the night would go as far as it did. Though he had noticed how she blushed under his attention more than once, he thought her ire for him was far more significant. He thought her elven sensibilities would restrain any stirring she felt.
Considering she had a husband, it was nearly impossible for her even to be attracted to him. Only nearly. Elves were not easily swayed by lust and often loved only once in their entire life. But Mairon, having endured countless of Melkor’s many hateful rants about the Noldor, knew that Galadriel herself only existed because her grandfather loved twice.
Not that what Galadriel felt for Mairon could be sincere love. He knew he was unlovable. And that truth would only be compounded when she learned his true identity.
He shouldn’t have let any of this happen.
He could blame her advances. The way she reached for his arm not once but twice struck sparks of desire within him.
He could blame the way her stormy blue eyes held him spellbound. She had been the one to stare at his lips.
But he had kissed her. Even after she stopped them, he helped her through all her doubts until she kissed him again, which resulted in her leading him to the bed and his hand to her slender waist.
He should have resisted going further after pushing her over the edge of pleasure the first time. He had tried with a couple of excuses that were valid in their own right, but masking the true reason he hesitated to go further. It was not as if he could reveal he was a Maia.
But the way she didn’t care what the Valar thought about them being together only inflamed Mairon’s arousal.
Galadriel reached for what she wanted. How could he not do the same?
And he did want her, in every way possible.
But now he would have to face the consequences. He had lain with another, risking binding himself to the human fana he wore.
At least he had enough sense to slip into her mind and determine she had no intention of conceiving a child. If that happened, he would have no hope of casting away his fana when needed. He would be utterly dependent on it and restricted more deeply by the inconvenient needs of man.
The ease with which he had just slept troubled him enough. Ever since taking on his human fana, he had occasionally indulged in food and drink. But that affected him far less than all he had just experienced with Galadriel.
He could easily reject the offer of the finest wine or delicacies. But he did not know if he could resist the elf if they were alone again.
His cock hardened between his legs, his balls tensing as he imagined plowing back into her warm, wet cunt.
Mairon ground his teeth and reached for the wool blanket to cover them both.
No, he had to resist her. Every time they lay together would only weaken him further, and she would eventually notice him breaching her mind to ensure she still had no thoughts of progeny.
Despite everything, he was pleased at his success sneaking into her mind. She had been so overwhelmed with pleasure that she had not noticed how she dropped her walls to him. She even apologized for her thoughts pushing into his mind.
However, he would have to be cautious. If she probed his thoughts with intent, this would all end.
But he should want that—to be free of her.
The elf had destroyed his chance for peace in Númenor all so she could drag him back into war, back into blood, violence, and despair.
She hated him with her whole being and had devoted her life to destroying his.
Yet she had truly given him hope on that raft. He could still feel the firm way her spirit reached for his when she asked him to bind himself to her.
Never had he felt so seen as when Galadriel told him that she understood his pain and believed he could make amends for all he had done wrong.
While he had been careful with his choice of words, he told her far more than he intended to about his regrets.
The way she had opened to him in return stirred something inside him. Like him, she knew what it was like to be dismissed, betrayed, and utterly alone. He almost wanted her to succeed in her mission to prove wrong all those who had turned their backs on her.
But her success would be his undoing.
The mere recognition of these thoughts entering his mind proved how dangerous Galadriel was.
Would she even give him a chance to heal Middle-earth if she knew who he was?
He did not know. He could not risk finding out.
Hopefully, she would be too focused on the upcoming fight for the Southlands to pay him any mind. After all, as she had implied, their coupling would be just the one night.
But she was an elf, and he could sense how she yearned for him, even though she danced around saying as much. How would she handle the strong pull between them when she awoke?
He had felt her shutting her mind to him when she realized her mistake. But it would take her considerable effort to keep her mind closed after how she had opened herself to him, mind and body.
And Mairon couldn’t excuse away their connection as merely a convenience to her and her quest for vengeance.
He had heard her chant Halbrand in her mind over and over.
He had heard her thoughts.
Anquantaina almarë.
Gasping and quivering beneath him, she felt complete bliss.
She also felt fear at the strength of her feelings for him. And fear that his feelings did not run so deep. That even if they did, there was far too much between them for it to ever become something.
He had felt her panic when he pulled out of her quickly. It had only been because he was overstimulated in his body and overwhelmed in his mind. With the final act of their consummation, a bone-deep yearning for Galadriel had squeezed Mairon’s lungs.
When he heard her loudest thoughts, her fear he was abandoning her as soon as the deed was done, he couldn’t stop himself if he wanted as he reached to gather her in his arms and reassure her.
It had been foolish to ask her to teach him ósanwe. He couldn’t resist, amused by the irony that he had communicated that way since Eru created him.
He could feign ignorance to an extent, but if Galadriel truly attempted to tutor him, it would be difficult to keep her out of his mind.
Mairon would have to hope the ship would be too crowded and loud for them to have any alone time. That they would both be too busy with drills and preparation. Once they made landfall, their mission would consume them all the more.
Besides, he was not the human fana he wore. He was a powerful Maia. He could and would resist the elf. Never mind how his cock throbbed with need even now as Galadriel shifted against him.
In this form, he had no desire for anyone before meeting her, so he could surely overcome his body’s cravings with his strong will.
Galadriel moved again, stretched out an arm.
He quickly closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. The thought of meeting her waking gaze suddenly terrified Mairon.
It would be easier this way if he were still asleep. After all, Halbrand was a human and needed more rest. Dawn was still a couple of hours away.
He could feel the elf sit up. He heard her take in a deep, pondering breath. She lifted the blanket to cover his bare shoulders, then slipped out of the bed.
The loss of her warmth left an ache in Mairon’s chest. He listened keenly to Galadriel’s every move, trying to picture her as she straightened out her dress and pulled on her trousers and boots.
Did the marks he made with lips and teeth still show on her pale skin, or had her elven anatomy already faded away any remnants of their exchanged passions?
The ache in him widened as she walked to the door, but she changed her mind for some reason. He could feel her come close again, but he didn’t dare reach out. He knew better than to try and slip into her mind now.
So he wasn’t prepared when he felt her soft lips press to his cheek. The small, sweet gesture stunned him more than anything she had done or said so far.
He had never been so confounded in his life.
He turned under the blanket as if she had disturbed his slumber, hoping to distract her elven ears from how his heart pounded under his ribs.
She must’ve started holding her breath as he couldn’t hear her but felt a painful tug at his spirit as she stepped away again and then out the door.
Finally, Mairon opened his eyes and stared at the dark ceiling, his heart still racing.
One question kept repeating in his mind. What had Galadriel done to him?
Mairon delivered the armor to the palace, hoping he would catch a glimpse of Galadriel amidst her preparations. But he was quickly swept up by attendants making a fuss over his appearance, which was “unacceptable” for the departing processional through the city.
After soaking in a tub of steaming hot water, one attendant combed through his hair while another helped him dress in scaly Númenórean armor and a dark green cape. He played his part as a humble, reluctant heir to a faraway throne, offering his gratitude.
He could hardly believe that Galadriel had decided he was heir to the Southlands. All based on the little royal crest he had stolen from Diarmid.
It hadn’t been his intention to use the pouch for himself, but he thought it could be helpful if he ever wanted the people of the Southlands under his thrall as they had once been under Melkor’s. With the crest, Mairon could raise a king loyal to him. But Galadriel had put him on a path towards that kingship himself.
Mairon didn’t particularly care about ruling a small kingdom of low men. But it could prove a useful base to expand his dominion until it covered all Middle-earth. And why not begin with a people already long broken during Melkor’s reign and further tormented by Adar and his children?
More importantly, Mairon could establish a stronghold around Orodruin and, as he had long desired, build a grand forge over its fires.
After, of course, they drove out the orcs. Mairon hoped he could be the one to put a blade through Adar’s gut. The traitor wouldn’t recognize Mairon in his human fana, but he would whisper in the Moriondor’s ear as he slowly bled out. He would die knowing that Sauron got his revenge.
Then Mairon could truly begin anew his quest to heal Middle-earth.
He had meant what he said to Galadriel, about no longer being afraid with her by his side. Her determination, her courage, and, most of all, her light inspired him to reach for all he had given up on.
But how long before she abandoned him? Would she take her leave as soon as the Southlands were secure and Halbrand was formally appointed king? If he could even keep his identity from her for that long.
Whenever she left him it would be for the best, he reminded himself.
Mairon continued to look out for Galadriel all morning. When he finally saw her stepping onto the Queen Regent’s flagship, his breath caught in his lungs. Strands of her golden hair danced in the sea breeze. The armor he had forged for her shined in the sunlight but not as brightly as her face, resplendent with pride.
All the soldiers looked upon her with awe, and Mairon understood why they had been chosen amongst the volunteers. They still held the elves with wonder and respect, not the envy Mairon had sensed in the Chancellor and many others in Armenelos.
Something swelled in Mairon’s chest as Galadriel crossed the ship’s bow, her eyes on him alone. Then she held out her hand to him, just as she had on that raft. He grasped her arm. Her lips hinted at a smile, and he couldn’t stop the one that broke across his face.
Before they could talk, Captain Elendil approached to discuss the expedition's logistics. As expected, the following days and nights were busy. The Captain invited Mairon to help train the troops, which he accepted, pleased with the opportunity to sometimes train alongside Galadriel.
They sat in council with the Queen Regent in her private cabin, the largest on the ship. Mairon shared all information that seemed reasonable for a human to know about the Southlands and the orcs.
But he could never find a moment alone with Galadriel. If they were the last two left in council, she immediately excused herself to follow after Míriel or Elendil. If he caught her late at night watching the horizon, she would announce she was retiring for rest.
She was an elf. While he had watched her sleep in his arms less than three weeks before, he knew she wasn’t resting that often. She was avoiding him.
He kept telling himself it was for the better. That it was as he hoped. If she offered to teach him ósanwe after all, he would walk a dangerous line keeping his true thoughts from her. If they found themselves completely alone together…
He stopped the thought from going further.
While Galadriel ensured they were never alone, she did not keep her warm smiles from Mairon. He caught her staring at him often, and she did not look away quickly. She would lock eyes with him. It felt as if she held his heart in her hand each time. With great effort, he resisted reaching out his mind to hers and wondered if it was the same for her.
They sat near each other for meals. They talked of strategy, fighting styles, and the amusing quirks they noticed among the young soldiers, who were constantly preening under the eyes of the Queen Regent and the Captain.
But Galadriel said nothing of their night together. So neither did Mairon, even as an unbearable longing hollowed out an empty pit in his stomach.
Night after night, week after week, he talked himself out of knocking on the door to Galadriel’s cabin.
What of tonight, he had asked. For tonight, she had said. That had been their agreement.
Never mind the fact that she had a husband she might see again one day. Or that she was elf and he was not. Although the divide between elves and Maiar was different between elves and mortals, it wasn’t as if he could make that point. Unless… Maybe he could tell her the half-truth one day. Or would even that ruin everything between them since she had staked her honor on his identity as an exiled human king?
That part wasn’t his fault. He had tried to tell her he was no heir to the Southlands. But from what she said of her king and her friend, they would blame her if the truth came out. Not him.
That could be helpful one day if he wanted to keep her with him when she learned his true identity. But he didn’t want to coerce her to stay by his side. He wanted her willingly. He wanted to bask in the strange, warm feeling that surged through him when she said he would become a scar upon her heart once they eventually parted ways.
He had sensed her words pure and true.
Perhaps he only had to be patient.
He had promised her he would focus on the journey ahead, that they would not become distractions for each other. It was the only way for him to earn her trust.
So he resisted leaving his cabin for hers for yet another night.
He tried to turn his focus to thoughts of revenge on Adar and his children. But the bloody fantasies he often entertained in his mind had somehow lost their shine.
When a soft knock came at his door, he felt relieved at the idea of a distraction. It was probably one of the young soldiers eager for more stories of Middle-earth.
He did not expect to see Galadriel standing in the doorway. She was in the outfit she often wore for evening council meetings, a flowing dark blue gown over practical travel breeches. She appeared troubled, with unrest etched in her features.
“Good evening,” he greeted, pulling on formality to keep a bridge between them. “Is everything alright?”
Galadriel blinked and relaxed her shoulders. “Yes. Everything is as it should be. I only wanted to see how you felt about… seeing home again so soon. Did you know we are only two weeks out now?”
Suppressing a smirk at Galadriel’s weak excuse for turning up at his door, Mairon wondered why she was actually there. “The Captain has been talking about the favorable winds expediting our journey,” he played along. “I am the same I have been since agreeing to this endeavor—eager to free the Southlanders from the darkness that has too long plagued their lands. Green the troops may be, but I must admit they’re starting to show promise under your excellent tutelage.”
That earned him a smile from the elf’s lips. “I could say the same about you and your way with a blade. Was it your father who taught you to wield it as he did a hammer? Perhaps knowing one day you would reclaim your family’s lost throne?”
Mairon hesitated. Lies came to him easily enough, but half-truths were more fun. With Galadriel, he preferred to be as truthful as possible because he wanted the truth from her in return.
He stepped back and tilted his head, welcoming her into his cabin. She glanced behind her as if worried someone might see but then entered and shut the door.
“I apologize for mentioning your father again. I only meant to compliment your swordsmanship,” she said before Mairon had a chance to endeavor with a reply.
He smiled as he sat on his bed to give Galadriel more space in the cramped quarters. “It was another who instructed me in the ways of the sword. And I compensated with self-teaching,” he stated proudly. Melkor had had little patience for Mairon but expected excellence in all efforts.
“I never intended to claim my birthright,” he added. “But I witnessed enough subjugation to know I had to become strong or die weak. I only wish I had been stronger when truly tested. But I have never been… enough.” He didn’t know if his words would even make sense to her, but it was all he could do to stop himself from sharing the whole truth with the elf.
He should have just lied, bid her goodnight, and sent her away. But what he wanted to do was pull her down onto the bed, tear the dress from her body, and pleasure her until she screamed so loudly she woke the whole fleet from their slumber.
Then, he wanted to hold her in his arms as they rested. He wanted to forget about the entire world until the sun rose and duty called.
“You are more than enough, Halbrand. You are on your way to deliver your people from despair and offer them hope and a new start,” she spoke with great admiration he did not deserve. Not yet.
“Because of you,” Mairon countered, even as he internally cringed at himself for admitting self-doubt aloud. But there was a reason he had turned away from revenge and followed Diarmid to the sea.
Mairon hated himself for ever trusting Adar, for believing that the Moriondor cared for him in any way. He should have known better and seen in Adar the same resentment Mairon once felt for Melkor.
“I only gave you a push. You must still earn your peace, " she said in an encouraging tone.
“A push? So now you admit to badgering me into agreement,” he teased.
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “And you’re suffering for it, are you? Being treated as a king, served and waited on, spending your days smiling as you spar with a fleet of soldiers who admire you more every day.”
It was true that the soldiers had taken to Mairon… to Halbrand. They were undoubtedly easier company to keep than orcs. Perhaps that was where he had gone wrong in the past, trying to turn the savage creations of his old master into soldiers. He should focus on the ever-expanding race of men bound to inherit Middle-earth as the elves fade away or leave for Valinor.
“As you have restored hope within me, this journey has opened my eyes to many possibilities,” he admitted.
She gave him a small smile. “I only hope our efforts will open the eyes of my people who have all but given up on Middle-earth. I cannot bear to turn my back as it falls to ruin. And that will happen unless I can root out the cause of the shadow slowly spreading again above us all.”
He knew she was thinking of him, of Sauron. When he first realized her obsession with him, Mairon was flattered. But now he desperately wanted to assure Galadriel that he was not like Melkor, who had sought only to destroy. Mairon wanted her to know he would do anything in his power to heal Middle-earth and restore all he had helped ruin.
But she would not believe him, not while she still grieved for her brother, not while she blamed Sauron for all the destruction Adar and his orcs had caused since destroying the last fana he wore.
But if they succeeded in their quest to free the Southlands, if Mairon could end the destruction and desolation caused by Adar’s children, then maybe Galadriel would give him a chance to show how he was exactly what Middle-earth needed to thrive again.
Although Mairon wasn’t sure he believed he alone would be the best for Middle-earth anymore. Everything felt different now because of Galadriel. He was loathed to admit it, but he feared everything would somehow fall apart again if he lost her.
“I’ve never before met anyone as determined and passionate as you,” Mairon said after a long beat. “Middle-earth will not be without light as long as you are in it.”
Even in the low lantern glow, he could see the pink that painted her pale cheeks. He greatly wanted to kiss each one.
“I want that to be true,” she said quietly. He remembered what she said about those she held dear being unable to distinguish her from the enemy, from him.
But for all Mairon had discovered that he and Galadriel had in common, he knew he couldn’t hold a candle to the light that shone so brightly from within her. He did not understand how anyone could doubt her, how anyone fortunate to soak in the luminescence of her spirit was not moved to reach for hope, for justice, for goodness.
“I know it is true, and soon your people will see it too,” he vowed, even though he had no place making such a promise. But he longed to give her everything she wanted. If all Middle-earth could see her light as he did, it would know greater healing than he ever could’ve imagined.
Galadriel did not reply. She stood with her back pressed against the door, as far from him as possible. Yet her gaze searched him intently. He sensed she was on the brink of reaching out with her mind but fighting to hold back.
“Why did you come here?” The question slipped from his lips in a harsh tone he hadn’t intended. It made him face how hard he, too, was holding back from reaching for her, with both body and mind.
She startled and looked away. “As I said, I wanted to ensure your well-being.”
“Which you do every morning when we break our fast in the galley,” he pointed out.
“Right, well, it is always chaotic with the soldiers coming and going, and I thought it would be nice for a quieter conversation,” she replied, still not quite looking at him but feigning interest in his suit of armor hanging from the wall, the same armor he wore every day when drilling the soldiers.
“Ah, so that’s why whenever we’re left alone in the Queen Regent’s cabin or on the ship's bow, you flee,” he did not try to suppress his smirk this time.
Galadriel’s cheeks were no longer pink but bright red. She glared at him, indignant. “You know why,” she snapped.
Mairon did not have to slip into Galadriel’s mind to sense she was at war with herself. She could not stop her spirit from reaching for his. The pull of the connection between them had suddenly become overwhelming to the point of pain in his chest.
His sense of self-preservation told him to sever the connection with a few cruel words of rejection to protect his power. But all he wanted to do was drown in the depths of Galadriel’s tempestuous gaze.
“What’s different about tonight?” He asked, locking eyes with her, daring her to confess.
She pushed herself off the door as if summoning confidence to speak. “We have made significant headway with the soldiers and collaborated on a detailed plan of action for the expedition. I have faith in our mission, in the focus we have both devoted to it.”
“And?” He pressed, clenching his jaw as he felt his spirit reach for hers with a terrible yearning.
Galadriel reacted with a small intake of breath, and he knew the intangible connection between them was not in his imagination.
She swallowed nervously. “When it’s quiet like this, with most of the fleet asleep and the stars shining above… when no one needs my service, I cannot find rest.”
“Is that what you want, Galadriel? Rest?”
She shook her head slowly. Mairon wondered if he was the only being alive who had ever witnessed Galadriel of the Noldor overcome by shyness.
But she pushed past it, stepping towards where he sat on the bed. Her outstretched hand ghosted down the side of his face. Her fingertips brushed at the rough hair on his chin. He instinctively turned into her touch, closing his eyes. He felt her other hand card through his hair.
“Halbrand,” she murmured, leaning down to touch her forehead to his. Her spirit wrapped around him with a warmth he had never felt before, not even in the presence of Eru himself.
He reached out his hands to caress the curves of her waist and the small of her back, barely stopping himself from pulling her down onto the bed.
“Maybe we have earned just one more night,” she whispered, her nose nuzzling his.
Blood rushed to Mairon’s groin.
He tilted his face up, touching his lips to hers. She whimpered with need and deepened the kiss, her hand winding in his hair.
Damn self-preservation. Damn restraint. Galadriel had come back to him. Galadriel wanted him despite all that should keep them apart.
And Mairon wanted her body and spirit, regardless of the cost to all his grand plans.
He tightened his grip on her waist and laid back, bringing her weight down on his body. Her breath hitched against his lips. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside her warm mouth.
As they kissed, he fingered the length of her long braid until he found the band holding it in place and tugged it out of her hair. He gently worked apart the plait, starting from its end, often losing his focus as Galadriel sucked on his bottom lip or adjusted how her body pressed down on his.
Once she had her legs on either side of him, he bucked up against her. She pulled back to look down at him, tentatively rolled her hips once, shifted a little lower, and rolled them again, her core pressing right against his rapidly hardening cock.
He grunted, and a little smile flickered across her face as she rolled her hips again. Her delighted smile warmed a space in his chest that he hadn’t even realized had gone cold.
How had he survived the past few weeks without this intimacy between them? How would he ever endure the lack of her warmth again?
She leaned down to kiss him long and hard, grinding down on his erection.
He moaned into her mouth, rolling his hips up to meet her. He shuddered at the sweet friction, his swollen cock throbbing. It was dizzying how sensitively his human fana reacted to Galadriel’s closeness.
The feel of her lips and teeth moving just below his ear and then down his neck stoked the embers burning in his blood.
He felt torturous loss when she stopped to sit back. But her fingers went to raise the hem of his tunic. As she dragged her hands up the expanse of his torso, he flexed and twitched under her touch.
He helped her discard the garment, then reached for her dress, desperate to rid all barriers between them.
She let him gather the skirts and pull the clothing over her head. He could hear her heart pound, and a lovely flush colored her cheeks and crept down her neck. While he had enjoyed the way her blue corsetted dress wrapped around her midsection during the first time they lay together, he much preferred to see every inch of her creamy pearlescent form bare before him.
He reached to brush his fingertips across her blushing cheeks, then let his hand glide down her supple neck. Goosebumps peppered her skin, and her chest heaved in anticipation before he even curved his hands around her pink-tipped breasts.
Breathy sighs left her lips as he rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He eventually let go of one to push himself up so he could cover her pebbled flesh with his mouth. Their weeks at sea left her skin tasting of salt and sweat.
Mairon relished her every moan and gasp as he sucked one pert nipple, then the other. He became increasingly aware of the sweet smell of her arousal and wondered what she tasted like between her legs.
But first, he wanted to complete his mission of freeing her hair. His mouth moved up her body slowly until he settled in the crook of her neck, laving and nipping as she squirmed in his lap.
When her chin pressed into his head, signaling she was overstimulated, he moved from the sensitive spot on her neck to her mouth and kissed her deeply. Then, he placed softer kisses on her cheeks and forehead.
Finally, his fingers found what was left of her braid. He worked it apart carefully as they caught each other’s gazes. She was looking at him in a tender way that tore his chest open, leaving him feeling utterly exposed.
He was terrified of her effect on him, how the walls of his mind groaned under the weight of her gaze. For a moment, he feared she would suddenly see right through him, that she would look upon him with horror as she had in his nightmare. But then she kissed him and pushed him back down on the bed.
Her beautiful golden hair fell around him like a curtain. Maybe it was only the lantern’s glow, but he swore he saw the light of the two trees of Valinor glimmering in the waves of her long locks.
They continued exploring each other with lips and tongue, rutting against each other until Mairon couldn’t take it anymore. His cock, his thighs, his whole body was so taut it hurt.
The bed was small, but he turned their bodies together and pulled Galadriel beneath him. With an eager look in her eyes, she reached for the waistband of his trousers. He helped her make quick work of them, then the material covering her legs.
She stared at his cock, as she had done the first time. He noticed her move her hand towards him, then hesitate.
“You may touch it,” he assured her. Please, he held back from voicing. The thought was reckless. Mairon did not beg anyone. But it seemed Galadriel was changing everything for him.
Those words were all she needed to take him in hand and caress him from the head of his swollen length down to the base, where his balls twitched with want.
Every touch offered his aching cock relief while simultaneously flooding his senses with pure ecstasy.
He could finish in minutes from the motions of her warm, curious hand alone. But that wouldn’t do, for he hadn’t forgotten his desire to taste her innermost depths.
He took her hand in his to stop her, then kissed her deeply, pressing her down into the mattress. With an open mouth, he kissed a trail down her neck, across her chest, pausing to give each rosy nipple a teasing bite that made her gasp and buck her hips. He laved at the hardened peaks, soothing them before continuing his journey down her smooth, lithe figure.
Her breath quickened as he kissed just above the golden curls crowning her lovely cunt. After a few kisses and nips at her inner thighs that made her shiver, he parted her folds with his thumbs to find her glistening. All for him.
He dove in to taste her, laving at her wetness. “Halbrand,” she gasped, her whole body tensing. “What are… you…” The shock in her breathy voice spurred him on. It seemed he was again broadening her carnal horizons. He couldn’t be more thrilled.
“Halbrand, that—” But she cut herself off again as his tongue found the pearl at the apex of her sex. He smirked against her as she struggled to stifle a string of moans and gasps as he dragged his tongue back down and pushed it inside her dripping cunt. She tasted as sweet as he expected—like fragrant flowers emitting a light musk after a fresh rainfall.
As he thrust his tongue in and out of her, Galadriel’s hand came down to tangle in his hair. He moaned into her mouth and felt her walls clench.
With a flat tongue, he lapped her juices up to coat the throbbing gem above her opening. Mairon closed his lips over the little jewel and sucked gently. Galadriel moaned sharply. Her fingers tightened painfully in his hair. The sensation heightened his arousal, and he clenched his thighs, grunting against her.
He slipped two fingers inside her depths and started thrusting, slow and steady, as his tongue flicked her swollen pearl at a more unrelenting pace.
Sweet little noises fell from her mouth as her hips jerked. With his free hand, he held her firmly in place and switched to sucking on her sensitive jewel. She made a lovely, sharp sound that pierced his ears but was still restrained as if she hadn’t forgotten about the army sleeping on the other side of the cabin wall.
He added a third finger, moving them all at a faster pace. Her thighs tensed, fighting his strength as if trying to close around his head. Her one hand continued twisting his hair while her other grabbed onto his arm holding her down at her waist.
Then he felt the walls of her cunt beginning to flutter around his fingers. Her nails dug into his flesh as she came undone, her legs shaking, her juices gushing over his fingers.
She writhed under him, but he didn’t stop savoring her sensitive gem until she yanked his head away by a fistful of his hair.
Moving up next to her, he pulled her body atop his so neither one of them would fall from the tiny bed. He relished how she melted into him, the cute little way she panted, her chest moving against his with every breath, how her soft hair fell through his carding fingers.
When their eyes met, she smiled in an adorable, bashful way. He couldn’t hold back the smirk that spread across face. “What is it you were trying to say?” He teased.
She shook her head, but the blush on her cheeks only brightened. “You certainly know what you are doing,” she mused. But he could hear a hint of insecurity in her voice and bent his head to kiss it away.
“No, Galadriel, I’ve never felt what I feel with you,” he whispered before he could stop himself, before an overwhelming sense of vulnerability threatened to swallow him.
“I could say the same,” she whispered back, looking anywhere but at him. He could feel it, her desire to say so much more. But she held back, as she had done the previous time they laid together.
“Yet…” she swallowed and finally glanced at him. “We have to remain focused on the expedition.”
“Of course.” He jumped on the opportunity to pivot their conversation. “But the sun hasn’t yet risen,” he murmured, bucking his hips.
She took in a sharp breath through her teeth and looked down at him with a glint in her eyes. Then dragged her soaked cunt over his painfully swollen cock. He gasped and groaned loudly. Galadriel’s eyes widened, and she quickly covered his mouth with her hand.
His lips formed a grin under her hand and she narrowed her eyes at him. But she wasn’t bothered enough to stop herself from rolling her hips again and grinding down on his erection.
Something about the way she pressed her hand down on his mouth while her wet cunt glided across his aching cock sent fire blazing through every inch of his body. He moaned into her hand, rolling his hips against hers, eager to be inside her.
As if she read his mind, she shifted back and hovered above him, then took his cock in her hand. A desperate “please” slipped past his lips when her gaze met his. But he didn’t care because she slid the head of his cock through her glistening folds and then sank down onto him.
A heady mix of pleasure and relief washed over him as her warmth swallowed his cock. The joining of their bodies made him feel complete in a way that should unnerve him. But he couldn’t think straight as Galadriel lifted her hips and then slid back down onto him.
Her movements were initially uncertain, her eyes watching his every reaction closely. But soon enough, she found her rhythm, snapping her flesh against his.
Mairon could get used to the sight above him; Galadriel as ethereal as a star, looking down at him with open passion, shuddering and letting out little whimpers every time she impaled herself on him.
He reached for one of her bouncing breasts and gently pinched her erect nipple between two fingers. She gasped and responded by slamming herself down on his cock.
It seemed she was lost enough in her pleasure to forget all the company sleeping mere feet away from the other side of the door to his cabin. He pinched again and twisted, watching for any sign he went too far, but the look in her eyes was of astonished pleasure.
“Halbrand,” she murmured, slamming down on him again. He gasped and bucked his hips to meet the next roll of her hips.
Tension rapidly built low in his abdomen, sounding a small alarm in his mind. He switched his ministrations to her other breast and gently pushed at the bounds of Galadriel’s mind.
Then he backed out, too afraid to risk it as he did the first time. Too afraid to accidentally reveal himself and lose her.
Besides, he reasoned, he could not imagine she intended to conceive a child tonight. As she was an elf, it would only be possible if she willed it.
While her attraction to him, or whatever she would call it, had led her to his door tonight, she would not let anything distract her from her vendetta against him, against Sauron. He knew this in his heart.
But instead of letting the thought dismay him, he forced away every worry and reached around Galadriel’s waist.
He tugged her down, needing her closer, wanting to feel her weight on his. Her movements stuttered as she adjusted, but he gripped her hips and drove his cock into her with force. She moaned in the crook of his neck and tightened her grip on his shoulders.
“You haven’t been able to get a minute of rest since waking up in my arms, have you?” He rasped in her ear, quickening the pace of his thrusts. “Every night you’ve been wide awake, thinking of me, of how it felt the first time my cock split you open, how perfectly your tight cunt squeezed out every last drop of my seed?”
Galadriel took in a sharp breath. “Halbrand,” she admonished in a strained, breathy voice that told him she was close. But if his words scandalized her, they also spurred her on. She tilted her pelvis, pushing down on his thrusts.
As her every muscle tensed and her nails clawed at his skin, he rocked into her harder, fighting the intense pressure building in his groin.
But then her mouth found his neck. She scraped the sensitive skin there with her teeth and sucked hard.
Mairon lost control. A blinding, powerful surge of bliss shot through him, the muscles in his lower body contracting. The explosion of sensations overwhelmed him, body and mind. Time slowed as he emptied himself inside Galadriel.
He felt her follow him over the edge, her whole body quaking and curling around him. The walls of her cunt spasmed, making his overstimulated cock pulse and twitch. But he held her tightly against him, languidly moving his hips to work her through her release until she collapsed on him.
Euphoria washed over Mairon as she nuzzled into his neck and sighed with contentment. “Galadriel,” he panted, planting kisses in her hair, massaging his fingertips down the expanse of her back. She responded with a trail of kisses across his chest.
He reached for her chin with a finger, gently asking her to look at him. He expected the sultry, satisfied look in her eyes, but the ardent affection in her gaze nearly stole his breath. How could such a magnificent being of light have any love for him in her heart?
Because she doesn’t know who you are. The cruel truth twisted in his heart like a knife.
“What is it?” She asked with concern, pulling off him and shifting closer into his embrace. Her soft fingertips caressed the side of his face.
He schooled his expression and pressed a kiss to Galadriel’s forehead. “The light of the sun and moon do not compare to your beauty,” he said, running his fingers through her hair.
Galadriel was already flushed from head to toe, but her cheeks burned. Her eyes shined with rapture.
As she tilted her head to kiss him on the mouth, Mairon thought that while she did not know his true identity, he had shared more of himself with her than anyone before. More of his innermost self, at least.
This is real, he assured himself, kissing her back.
“That is what was on your mind?” She asked gently. Even without interchange of thought, Galadriel could read him too well.
He gave her another quick kiss. “Remember when you commanded me to stop comparing you to a horse?”
Her brow creased, weary of where he was going with his question. “You would not dare,” she warned.
“Oh, no, of course not. I was thinking how I was the horse this time. And you, my rider,” he said with a little smirk.
That caught Galadriel off guard. He could see her fighting a smile, but her expression cracked—a gentle laugh as light and warm as summer rain spilled from her lips.
A desire to make her laugh like that every day overcame Mairon. Maybe he could truly be a little bit of happiness for her.
Still grinning, she tangled her fingers through his hair, her adoring gaze seeming to soak in every detail of his face.
“Do you want to practice ósanwe?” She asked.
Now she caught Mairon off guard. He could only blame himself for the trap he had set for himself. But if he was careful, he could have a direct line of communication with Galadriel—until she realized who he was and shut her mind to him forever.
The nightmarish thought made his blood go cold.
But if he rejected her offer after being the one to ask her to teach him, would it not be suspicious?
And how could he reject another way to be close to Galadriel?
“Yes,” he replied, analyzing the doors to his mind and considering how he could let her in just a little, but not beyond the cloud of darkness concealing all that would destroy her trust in him.
“For two beings to communicate with thought, they must open their minds to each other,” she explained. “I won’t invade your mind,” she added. “Only send a message if you would like me to try.”
So, she would be cautious herself. Mairon nodded his consent, lowering the defenses of his mind.
Can you hear me? she asked, crystal clear in his head. Her simple question had a warm quality that washed over him.
I can feel you, he replied, wondering if she would feel the affection he let slip into the thought he sent her.
A subtle expression of awe flickered across Galadriel’s face. It is not typically such a strong connection from the start, she thought back to him. He felt her surprise and curiosity through their connection.
Mairon knew what she was thinking about. Ósanwe allowed the communication of not only words but also feelings and emotions. The stronger the bond, the more effective communication could be between two beings.
The ease with which Mairon and Galadriel could share thoughts proved their bond was already formidable.
“You must be careful and guard your mind always,” she instructed aloud. “Only let in those you trust and even with the trustworthy, only when it will not distract you.”
There is only one whom I trust, Mairon replied with a thought, locking eyes with Galadriel. He let her feel the honesty of his words. Despite all the secrets he held back, she was the only one he would dare open his mind to.
Foolishly, he hoped he could share all of himself with her one day. That future seemed beyond his reach. But how could he ever let go of the peace soothing his mind and spirit when Galadriel smiled at him?
We must be careful not to distract each other, she reminded him gently.
But the sun hasn’t yet risen, he replied, his hand gliding over the curve of her backside.
In his mind he felt her send him another thought, not of words, but pure desire.
He grinned and pulled her against him for the first of many more kisses that night.