Chapter Text
There are moments in life that define a person. Galadriel just doesn't think they're all supposed to happen at once.
It’s as though the beating of her heart is drowning out everything else. He stands there, only a few feet across from her, but Galadriel doesn’t understand a word that’s coming out of his mouth. There’s only the thud thud thud, as if she’s plunged into the deep end, all other sounds distorted by the constant thumping. It doesn’t help that she can see Elendil’s shoes peeking out from behind the sofa. Shoes with his feet inside and the rest of his body attached to them.
His body that had dropped to the floor when Halbrand had slammed the book down on the back of his head.
No. Not Halbrand.
What had Elendil called him?
Sauron.
She rolls it around in her head, the name adding to the chorus of thumps.
Had there been blood? She thinks she saw blood.
“Galadriel.”
He’s too close. This man that she doesn’t know. That she thought she’d known so well.
She flinches as he gets into her space. Doesn’t understand how he can look so hurt at her reaction when he’s the cause of it. What did he expect her to do after he kill—no—Elendil is not dead. She won’t think that. Not with everything else that’s happened.
“We need to go,” Halbrand—Sauron—insists, his hands on her shoulders. Gentle. Coaxing.
She slams her hands into his chest as she scoots back. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His eyes narrow. The greenish blue she’s loved looking at, picking apart the exact mixture of as he holds himself above her darkening in a way that she’s never witnessed before. His smile is cruel, twisting in a way that has fear pooling in her belly, her hands clammy. He grabs her upper arm and wrenches her up, fingers digging into her skin.
“Let go!” She struggles, because of course she does. She’s not going anywhere without a fight.
“Fuck you.”
He grasps her chin and she hates the condescension in his eyes, the smirk in his tone. “You were all too willing earlier, princess.”
She spits at him, narrowing her eyes, cursing him a million times over in her head as he wipes it from his face. She doesn’t like how he smiles now, as if he liked that, a wolf stalking its prey. “Be a good girl, Galadriel. You don’t want me to need to hurt anyone else, do you?”
She stills at that and he yanks her to her feet, grabs their coats and forces hers onto her before he’s dragging her out of the apartment. There’s no one around at this point in the day. No point in screaming. Not that she wants him to hurt any of her neighbors. His neighbors too. "It is not my wish to harm you,” he says as he gets her into the stairwell.
Galadriel laughs. It sounds foreign to her own ears. Too high pitched, too erratic. She tries to stop it but can’t, blinks through tears that she hates have come, tries to fight those off as well. It’s a losing battle for both. Especially when he cups her cheeks in his hand, levels his face with hers.
He breathes in and out, repeats the motion and it shouldn’t be so funny that he’s trying to calm her down. It lasts for a few moments at least before he’s lifting her up. “Sorry, sweetheart, we don’t have time for this.”
She slams her hands on his back, kicks her feet, but his grip only tightens and Galadriel knows she’s so very slight against him. Something she liked when he used it his advantage before. She doesn’t like it now as he heads down the stairs, grip never loosening. No matter how she struggles, his grip his relentless. No one uses the stairs; there’s no help for her there.
At least it means there’s no one for him to hurt too.
He sets her down as he tugs open the door to the parking garage. Galadriel elbows him in the stomach and gets maybe a foot from him before his arm is around her, yanking her backward. She kicks her feet, tries to claw at his arms, but Halbrand shushes her, smooths her hair down the side of her head as she twists this way and that.
A car screeches to a halt in front of them. For a brief moment she thinks she’s found freedom and then bile rises in her throat, afraid she’s unleashed doom on someone else. But the window is rolled down and she spies a familiar face.
“We’ve got a minute, tops!” Thuri yells.
Halbrand wrenches the back door open and maneuvers her toward it. “Get in the fucking car, Galadriel.”
She screams, bites, claws at him but he gets her into the back seat, door slamming shut once he’s in it beside her.
“Drive,” he orders and Thuri speeds out of the garage. Galadriel hears the sirens in the distance, spots Arondir’s car pulling into the garage on the other side, but there’s nothing she can do as she’s wrestled into a seatbelt.
He hugs her to his side, pressing something against her mouth and nose. She tries to struggle, grasping his arms, flailing her limbs, but it’s not long before everything becomes black.
****
13 months ago
Galadriel had almost forgotten how frigid the ocean can still be in the early days of spring. Valinor is much further north than her grandfather’s island home and after having spent an entire winter splashing around in the tropical sun, her first plunge into the coastline off her home country’s shores has her gasping for breath.
“Swim, Galadriel!” Elrond shouts from somewhere behind her. The opposite direction that she needs to be heading. Their team has a very narrow lead and she will not be the reason they lose out on it.
She takes a deep breath and starts swimming toward the raft attached to the buoy in the distance with her team’s red flag. If she can get to it first then she can start prepping the raft for whichever teammate of hers manages to get to it second. They need at least two of them to maneuver the raft to the shore and then head up the sand to the finish line off in the distance.
She will not look at it now. Her mind needs to be on the raft. Everything else is a distraction.
Like the fact that Celeborn—her ex—decided to add Mirdania to be his teammate.
Galadriel has nothing against Mirdania.
She’s a sweet girl. She probably won’t turn him down when he drops to his knee in front of his whole family, asking her to marry him. Not like she did only three months back.
And it’s not like Galadriel was ever going to be on Celeborn’s team. She has her own, has had this very same one for the last five years. She’s not about to mess with tradition. Not when they’ve managed to win the last four years in a row. She’s determined they’ll make it five.
Even if Poppy had to drop out the day of because of a broken ankle.
At least she could get a replacement.
Galadriel also doesn’t want to think about that replacement. No good can come of thinking about him even if Nori has been winking at her each time she looks over at him when his back is turned, mouthing ‘OMG’ and fanning herself. She is not about to stoop so low as that. Even if Nori is correct and the guy is gorgeous.
Halbrand.
She rolls the name around her tongue even as she pushes herself to swim faster, the raft only a few more strokes away. Her excitement had dropped as soon as she’d seen Nori and Poppy show up at the meeting point, Poppy’s foot in a brand-new cast and trying to maneuver herself around on crutches. Galadriel had felt awful for the way the girl had started to apologize, realizing that she must have looked devastated. Tried to reassure her friend that it was okay, she was just glad that she was alright. And then Poppy had introduced him.
She’d needed to look up and up some more. Galadriel had thought Celeborn was tall, but he’d paled in comparison to the scruffy looking guy that had trailed along after Poppy and Nori, carrying their bags. Galadriel remembers the way he’d said her name, not quite right, not quite like her friends and everyone else has. Just slightly wrong and yet, she almost hopes he’ll say it again.
A boat comes whizzing by, sending more waves hurling toward her, throwing her off her trajectory as she holds her breath as she’s pulled under for a moment. She keeps note of which way is up and kicks toward it, gasping for air as she breaks through the surface. The raft is right there in front of her and she kicks the last foot over, grabbing onto the edge of it.
Someone’s already on board and her throat goes dry as she spots him. Halbrand. He glistens in the sunlight pouring down on them, wearing only the board shorts now, his shirt having been discarded somewhere along the route. His back is massive, the breadth of one shoulder to the other a space that she thinks she’ll fantasize about for a few nights, especially as he turns toward her and moves, holding out an arm as he crouches in front of her. She’ll definitely dream about those arms.
She takes hold of it, clasping him around his forearm. He reciprocates, his hand easily wrapping around her arm, and helps to yank her on top.
“All we need is two?” he asks, and Galadriel nods, taking a second to catch her breath.
“To win, yeah?” She wipes the hair from her face before she scans the horizon, looking for how far away the rest of their group is. “All you need is two people on your team to make it across the finish line together.”
Elrond is nearly upon them and she sees Nori a little further away as another big wave comes crashing into them. Galadriel grabs onto one of the spokes poking up from the raft, determined to not fall into the water again. Her muscles are already screaming at her, ready for this event to be over, but she knows they’ve still plenty to go before they can claim victory.
Halbrand has already moved away from her and yanks at the rope that is keeping them tied to the buoy. “What are you doing?” she asks as he manages to undo the knot quicker than she’s ever seen, her focus on his arms before she forces herself to stop staring. She knows he caught her doing so by the way he smirks, mischief dancing in his gaze as he holds out one oar to her. She takes it before glancing behind to see others of their group feet from them. She also sees Celeborn and Mirdania getting onto their own raft.
Another waves crashes into them and she skids to the side, Halbrand’s hand clasping around her arm, dragging her closer as he manages to continue to keep his own balance. She slips out of his grip as soon as she’s able, repositioning her hands onto the oar she’s managed to hold onto.
“You needn’t keep your distance.” She likes the crinkle around his eyes even if she wants to wipe his smirk off of his face.
“They’re nearly here,” Galadriel points out, nodding toward the others. Halbrand juts a thumb in the direction of one of the other rafts.
Celeborn is on it with Mirdania, working on his team’s knots. The rest of his team is farther away and she knows he won’t wait around for them. Especially not when he glances toward her and then speeds up his movements, shouting something she’s too far away to hear but has Mirdania scrambling.
“Are we waiting?” Halbrand asks and she looks back over at him, sees her own competitiveness reflected back at her.
“No.”
Elrond will understand and Nori is already waving for her to go.
She’s impressed with how easily the two of them slide into a rhythm, maneuvering the raft through the waves and tide, urging it toward the shoreline with little trouble. He meets her stroke for stroke, the two of them working in tandem—something it had taken her and Elrond years to perfect. Its grueling work, the tide working against them as the waves pound down from the opposite direction, daring the raft to stay together.
“Why do the blonds keep looking this way?” Halbrand asks as he pulls on the ropes tying the planks of wood together, securing their boards for a little longer.
Galadriel stiffens, but he sounds genuinely confused as if he doesn’t know the history there. Maybe he doesn’t. She can’t place his accent. Doesn’t think he’s Valinorean and there hadn’t been time to pry anything from Poppy with the tournament getting underway a few minutes after her arrived. Does that mean he doesn’t know who she is either? Can she even dare to hope that’s the case?
Not that it matters.
“My ex and his new girlfriend.”
Halbrand breathes out through his teeth. “Sorry.”
Galadriel shrugs and then nearly pitches forward, thankful when he helps stabilize her again. “I’m the one that broke up with him.” Though it was less a breakup and more a catastrophic proposal gone wrong, their perfect image shattering to the floor after she’d said no.
“Cheating?”
She’s a little taken back by how straightforward he is. Wonders if he’s a reporter that’s somehow slipped past her friends’ defenses. But no, that doesn’t quite seem right. It’s not like he could be carrying around anything to record her with in these waves.
“He could barely function if they didn’t have the correct brand of orange juice for his breakfast every morning. I doubt cheating would have ever managed to fit into his schedule.” Galadriel knows she shouldn’t have said any of that, hates the bitterness in her voice. But she already had a mother who tried to structure her life from sunrise to sunset, she didn’t want that in a partner too.
This is not what she wants to think about so close to the finish line. She’s annoyed with herself for dropping even a little of her senses. She blames the seawater and the way it glistens against his damn skin, highlighting all the parts she will not allow herself to focus on. He’s not even that hot (he is). It’s just been months without sex, the only pleasure she’s found with her own hand and the toys her mother would die if she ever learned she owned.
The Queen of Valinor has lofty standards. Galadriel has failed at every single one of them, much to Earwen’s annoyance and her brothers amusement. Or well Finrod and Aegnor’s amusement. Angrod is as much a stickler for the rules as their parents.
“So the competition is personal for you then,” Halbrand says as they near the shore. She spies Celeborn and Mirdania close behind them.
Galadriel grins over at him. “My team has won for the last five years. I don’t plan on breaking that streak now.”
Another wave crashes down onto them, nearly toppling over their raft as they inch closer to the shoreline. Halbrand yanks on the ropes, ties them tighter as she tries to steer them toward the sand instead of away from it like the tide wants. Celeborn’s raft crashes into theirs. Deliberate. Though she doubts he means for what happens next to occur. She slips, unable to right herself, too far away from Halbrand to grab onto him to steady her footing.
Her head knocks against the side as she’s tossed overboard. Everything is blurry but she feels herself sinking, feet unable to kick as something tangles around them, pulling her downward. Panic wants to set in but she tries to ease herself through it, holding her breath as she continues to sink. She yanks at the ropes tangled around her legs, tries to get the knot out but it’s no use. Fear rises within her, wondering what on the raft even managed to get close enough to do this.
Galadriel thinks she’s imagining things when she spots Halbrand swimming toward her. Her lungs scream at her, desperate for air as he pulls at the ropes, manages to get her feet out of them and helps her swim toward the surface. She gasps for air as they break through, thankful that the seawater mixes with the few tears she’s shed. Hating the vulnerability she feels.
The raft isn’t far and they swim toward it. Her limbs ache, wanting her to lay down onboard and rest. She pushes herself up and reaches behind, helping him back up. “You good to keep going?” Halbrand asks, breathing just as hard as her. She likes his eyes. Not something she should be thinking about.
Somehow their oars are still on board.
Celeborn is in the water, shouting for her. Looking apologetic, worried as Mirdania helps him back onto their own raft.
Galadriel keeps her focus on Halbrand, chin jutting up into the air. “Let’s win this.”
She likes the way he grins back at her as he hands her the other oar. They work in tandem again, wedging the raft into the sand soon after.
“The flag!” Galadriel shouts as she drops her oar.
Halbrand grabs it as he drops his, meeting up with her on the sandy beach. They race toward the finish line and she doesn’t look back, doesn’t want to know how close a race it is until they’ve run through the ribbon up ahead. He’s a few steps ahead of her with his longer stride and she blinks when he reaches behind, grasping for her hand. Galadriel reaches out and clasps his, grinning from ear to ear as he partially slows down so they’re running side by side and crash through the ribbon together.
Celeborn never did that. Neither had her brothers when she’d run this course with them.
She’d always been a step behind.
There’s no trophy to accept, only cheers from the crowds along the shoreline that have come to watch the yearly tradition. Elrond and Nori join them soon after, the three of them jumping up and down as Halbrand watches, lips twitching with something like amusement. Poppy manages to make her way over, hobbling with the crutch. Galadriel spies Arondir and Elendil from her periphery. Isn’t surprised to see that Arondir lost the short straw on which of them would need to get into the water to track her.
Elendil taps his head, gaze serious, and she gives a thumbs up. She feels fine, but she knows he’ll want to get her checked out. For now he and Arondir stay to the side, their gazes on the crowd around them, ensuring they keep a distance from their cheering group. She sees them take in the newcomer. Neither had been happy with the sudden addition, offering to join instead, but that would have been cheating considering their considerable training.
Halbrand touches her head, his fingers moving around to the back of it. Not quite a caress but she likes the feel of them there, even if her hair is a stiff mess with the salt water. “Doesn’t feel like you have a bump,” he tells her as he drops his hand. She wishes he hadn’t, wonders what it would be like to feel those long fingers on other parts of her. “What he did was dangerous.”
“I doubt he meant any harm,” Galadriel replies, glancing over toward where the news vans are parked. She hopes none of them got an angle that shows Celeborn’s raft hitting against hers. Doesn’t want to think about the rumors that could stir up.
“Pretty sure that makes it worse.” Halbrand isn’t looking at her, his gaze narrowed and she follows it, spots Celeborn and his team further away from them.
“Come on, Gee,, Halbrand” Nori calls, ushering the two of them to join the group before Galadriel has time to contemplate anything he’s said.
There’s pictures to pose for, all of them surrounding the giant check that they’ve ‘won’. Shaking hands with the organizers and posing again with some children and a few other fans as her friends step the side, taking the offered water.
It isn’t long before she has to step in front of a news camera with Elrond at her side, the two of them holding up the massive check made out to the Tirion Children’s Hospital. “How does it feel to have this be the fifth year in a row that you’ve won the tournament?” the reporter asks. Galadriel can’t recall their name and knows she needs to brush up on Valinor’s press core again now that she’s back. While simultaneously not forgetting all of Teleri’s.
So many bits of information crammed into her head that somedays she’s surprised it hasn’t exploded.
She smiles like she’s been taught since she was a toddler. “As always my team and I are grateful that we’re able to donate the winnings to the children’s hospital. And this year, I’ll pleased to announce that the royal family will be donating the same amount to each of the charities that the other teams were representing.”
“They all do such wonderful work in Valinor that seemed a pity to not spread what cheer we could,” Elrond added, always better at the smile than she was. Though she was at least far better at it than his twin brother.
“Hopefully there were no hard feelings between you and the Duke of Doriath after your—”
She keeps the smile plastered on even as Elendil steps forward, deliberately bumping into the camera. “I’m afraid the princess has another engagement to attend.”
There’s a reason he’s her favorite. Galadriel nods and hands the check over to the organizer of the competition before Elendil can usher her back to the others. Elrond at her side. “It looks like he’s coming this way,” he murmurs as they catch back up to the group.
Galadriel spots Celeborn and the rest of his group headed her way. He’ll be courteous, no doubt praise her team’s abilities even if she knows he’s still hurting from their breakup. Part of her is as well, but mostly she feels relieved. Even if her mother still bemoans the loss of such a near perfect match, the golden-haired grandchildren that she feels have permanently slipped through her fingers.
And she needs to be courteous back. Not let her temper get the better of her. It shouldn’t. Not here. There’s nothing to anger her. Right? It had been a friendly competition. Even if he’d never tried that raft trick previously.
“A wonderful race, your highness,” Celeborn says as he offers his hand to shake and it’s a slap in the face. Your highness. Has he ever called her that? She doesn’t think he even did before they’d dated.
“Thank you, Lord Celeborn.” She forces herself to shake his hand, to not let her hands tremble, smile still forced before quickly moving on. Galadriel hates how awkward it is but it would be even more so if she’d kept up the pretense of a relationship with him. They were headed on two very different paths and she wasn’t going to compromise her own any longer.
Celeborn winces as Halbrand shakes his and a part of Galadriel feels a little vindication. It’s ridiculous and she tries to stifle the feeling, to bury it deep inside her where it belongs. She shouldn’t feel pleasure at his pain.
“Pizza?” Poppy asks, thankfully changing the subject before Nori can offer her sympathy once Celeborn and the others are gone. “And beer, of course.”
“Are you even allowed beer on your pain meds?” Halbrand asks, towel draped over his shoulders. It does little to hide the cut of his abs or the trail of hair that Galadriel is not looking at.
“Traitor!” the girl yells, jabbing him in the arm as Nori nods, trying to steer her toward one of the chairs. “It’s tradition. Pizza and beer.”
“Maybe somewhere else this time though?” Elrond suggests, glancing in the direction of Celeborn and crew. It’s obvious they’re headed to the restaurant further down the beach that they usually go afterward. Galadriel can see the paparazzi on the other side of the barricade, waiting for them to cross by it, hoping to catch something for the tabloids. She’d really rather not give her mother another reason to chide her later that day.
“I need to get back to the store,” Halbrand says, digging through the bag at Poppy’s feet. Galadriel runs her teeth along her lower lip as he tugs on the shirt, already missing the sight of him. At least this time she’s able to look away before he catches her. “But thanks for letting me join in.”
It’s on the tip of her tongue to ask him for his number, but she stifles the urge and simply flashes him a smile. “Thanks for the assist.”
She likes the one he reciprocates, tossing his towel at her. “See you around, princess.”
Galadriel catches it.
****
“Good girl.”
There is something deliciously sinful about the timbre of Halbrand’s voice. It ignites a fire within her like nothing else has in months. Galadriel is also pretty sure that good girls do not do what they’re doing in crowded clubs. She can already hear the lecture she’ll receive from her mother at family dinner play out in her head, the worry over her being spotted in a downtown club.
As if Finrod hadn’t gone clubbing in his early twenties. As if Aegnor still doesn’t do so. But the rules for her are always different. Stricter, harsher, trying to make sure she’s the perfect image of a Noldorian princess. Something Galadriel has never managed to adapt to.
Her friends—their friends she supposes since he seems to have been gathered into the group at some point in the last three weeks—are somewhere on the dance floor. She knows Elendil is somewhere on the periphery, keeping an eye on her and ensuring no one else is coming anywhere near the two of them. Galadriel hopes he’s not watching her too closely, that he can’t see the way Halbrand’s fingers have edged her minuscule skirt upwards as he towers over her. He's so tall, so massive. Which is good because she is certain her mother would have a heart attack if the tabloids reported that Valinor’s royal daughter got fingered in a club.
Or at least that’s what she hopes is about to happen as his fingers caress her thigh, slipping in between her legs. “Think you can be quiet?” he asks, presses his other hand onto the wall next to her, caging her in, blocking anyone else’s view.
No, no she can't.
“I bet you can be quiet for me, baby.”
Celeborn tried calling her baby once. Galadriel had laughed so hard she’d fallen out of the chair she’d been sitting on. But Halbrand says it and she's nodding, liquid at those words, especially as his fingers slide into her slickness. Galadriel grabs onto his shirt, wraps her fingers tightly into the fabric of it. Silk? She laughs in her head, unbelieving that she’s even thinking about that as his knuckles brush up against her clit. Galadriel lets her head fall back against the wall, forces her lips shut as her hips move, desperate for the release he’s so quickly managing to build up in her.
His fingers are long and as he gets one into her and then another immediately after, she wordlessly gasps, eyes flying open as he stills his movement. His eyes are so dark in the club. “Need that mouth of yours occupied too, hmm?” Halbrand asks and Galadriel nods, hands gripping his shirt tighter as he leans down.
He kisses her and starts curling his fingers inside of her simultaneously, swallows her gasp, takes control in a way she’s not used to letting anyone do with her. It’s almost a nice change, letting someone else take charge as he somehow strokes her in the way she needs. His tongue is demanding, kisses harsher than any she’s used to. She wants them, meets him with the same desperation. Nips at his lower lip and is delighted in the way his hand that was against the wall has moved to grasp her chin, locks her in place as he all but devours her.
She wants to be consumed. Wants to consume.
“Remember to be quiet,” he whispers against her mouth as he kisses along her jaw. His stubble scraping against her throat as he moves lower and she knows she’ll have marks there tomorrow. He adds a third finger, stretches her and presses against her clit and Galadriel clings to him as everything explodes inside of her.
He keeps up the motions and it’s too much, so much. She’s certain there are tears in her eyes as she rides it out, his lips brushing against her ears. “So good, baby.”
Halbrand rights her skirt and brings his hand to his mouth. She watches him suck each finger and has to stifle another moan. “So fucking delicious,” he murmurs and she yanks at him, drags him back down for another kiss, loves the way he pushes her into the wall, his entire body pressed up against hers, caging her in. Galadriel wants more than just his fingers. “You want to get out of here?”
She shouldn’t.
Good girls definitely don’t go home with men that are practically strangers. Valinor’s Noldorian princess definitely shouldn’t do so. There’s also the logistics of Elendil to try and figure out if she says yes.
“My place?” she offers up. Someone will no doubt catch a picture of them but bringing someone back to her own apartment is still somehow better than her going to someone else’s. She nods toward Elendil. “He’s kind of a package deal and at least can head to his own room instead of lingering outside at yours.”
Halbrand laughs at that and the sound alone sends shivers down her spine. “I don’t think they’ll let someone like me into the palace.”
“They let Nori in so you’d be just fine, but I don’t live there.” Not anymore. Not for the last month. This situation is precisely why her mother was so against her moving out. Partially why Galadriel was so adamant about doing so.
He settles a hand on her hip as he leans in close again. “Then yours it is.”
They need to say goodbye to the others and from the way Elendil slightly averts his gaze before stepping in line with them, she has a feeling he knows precisely what they had been doing. Galadriel knows she’s flushed, is grateful for the dim lighting that hides how low her blush has dipped. “We’re heading out,” Galadriel says once they find the others at the same table they’d left them at.
Halbrand is pressed up behind her, one hand still splayed against her hip, fingers brushing against the fabric of her dress. Poppy and Nori are practically falling over themselves as they give her a thumbs up, dramatically winking, while Elrond simply smiles as he gives her a knowing look. She catches her jacket that he tosses to her and slips it on as Elendil ushers them out the back entrance. Her driver tosses his cigarette to the ground, grinds it out before he moves to open the back door of the black SUV for them. Galadriel slides in, her skirt rising a ridiculous amount as she gets into the backseat, Halbrand following after her.
Elendil heads into the front.
Galadriel should push Halbrand’s hands away when he tugs at the spaghetti strap of her dress, pulls it down so that its hanging off of her shoulder. He shifts in the seat, tugs the top of her dress downward, brushes his fingers along the top of her breast and she bites down on her lower lip. Tries not to draw attention back to what they’re doing. The divider is drawn upwards though and Galadriel knows she’s redder than she had been as Halbrand tugs the dress further, revealing her breast.
He cups it, stubble brushing against her skin as he captures it with his mouth. His other hand is on her bare thigh, slinking back between her legs, urging her to spread herself open for him. Galadriel sinks her fingers into his hair, tugs at the curls that have fascinated her for the last few weeks. “I can’t wait to eat this pussy,” he murmurs against her breast, other fingers strokes her soaked panties. She whimpers and then clasps her hand over her mouth, tries to blot out the noise as he chuckles against her breast.
Yanks on his hair, bringing his mouth up to meet hers as he slips his fingers through to press against the bundle of nerves desperate for his touch. He kisses like he’s trying to claim her and Galadriel wants to be claimed, wants to claim him right back. She's not about to let him think he's the one in charge, that he gets to decide everything for them. Galadriel slides her hands from his curls and starts to work on his belt. It's difficult as he resumes his attention to her breast, his finger stroking between her thighs. But she's determined, nearly crows as she manages to undo the buckle, fingers brushing against his growing erection.
He looks up as she gets his cock free from his pants and it’s her turn to smirk as she sucks on each of her fingers before she takes him in hand. Halbrand arches a brow and she doesn't like the amusement there, pushes him back as she maneuvers herself in the seat to lean down and take him in her mouth. The position is awkward but his hands are in her hair and she feels his stifled groan.
It’s a dangerous game. One she hopes to finish before they arrive at her apartment building. The fact that Elendil and the driver might overhear the sounds the two of them are making is probably supposed to leave her feeling a sense of shame, of guilt. It’s what her mother has tried to instill in her, the sense of propriety that the Noldorians are supposed to encapsulate. Here’s another mark against her, another failing, because all she feels is pleasure.
The thrill of it heightens every touch, especially as his hands curl in her hair. She chokes as he presses deeper inside of her, uses her mouth in a way that no one else has ever dared. Always so gentle, always so wary. He’s neither. Takes and takes and takes as she presses her hands against his thighs, adjusts to the feel of him. She digs her nails into his skin as the car pulls to a stop.
Galadriel hears the motor shut off, the front doors open, but there’s no movement towards the back ones. Halbrand tugs her off him and makes quick work of both their seatbelts. She’s not sure how she manages to get her underwear off before he’s tugging her to straddle his thighs.
Good girls do not have sex for the first time with a guy they’ve known for two weeks in the back of a car. With their bodyguard and driver outside, waiting for them to finish. But Galadriel Noldor is so tired of having to try and be a good girl. She welcomes his fingers stroking through her slickness, the way he yanks her dress down, exposing both her breasts before he takes her neglected one onto into his mouth. She keens as he works at her clit, adding that third finger now.
“Be a good girl,” Halbrand murmurs against her breast, trails kisses along her collarbone to her neck. “Quiet, Galadriel.”
She can be. She will be, yanks at his curls to angle his head so she can kiss him again. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get enough of his mouth as he removes his fingers, slides his cock through her slickness before finally he helps her sink down onto him.
Galadriel sees stars as she adjusts to the feel of him, so much more than she’s used to. “So tight, baby,” he groans against her cheek. “So fucking perfect.”
This isn’t what she does, but it’s what she wants. What she’s denied herself for so long, playing the part she has to maintain. His fingers press against her clit as he helps her move on him and it’s not long before she tumbles over the edge. All of the weight and expectation that she shoulders washes away as she rides that high, lets it break her into tiny little pieces, ready to be molded into something new, something stronger all over again. She clings to him afterwards, lets him move her as he needs until he’s unraveling beneath her.
He helps her right her dress, collects her panties from the floor before fixing his own clothes. She’s a sticky mess, his spend adding to the stickiness between her thighs. Galadriel can’t quite look at Elendil as they finally get out of the car. Halbrand helps her down before he raises a brow.
“I thought we were going to your building?” He nods toward the sign near the doors.
“We are.” She holds out her hand and Elendil passes over her apartment key.
Halbrand fishes his own from his pockets. They’re identical, down to the insignia of the apartment building etched into the fob. “811.”
“1011.” Galadriel dangles hers through her fingers as he trails his hand along her hip, toys with the fabric of her dress.
“Looks like we’re neighbors.”
Oh. Well isn’t that a lovely little coincidence.
“Mine or yours?” Halbrand asks as they step in front of the elevator.
Elendil is right behind them, eyes averted as Halbrand slips his hand around the curve of her ass, hauling her closer. There’s going to be a lecture in the morning, she can already tell. “Hers,” Elendil says, jabbing the button for her floor.
“We’ll just have to try mine another time,” Halbrand says as he nuzzles her neck.
Another time.
He wants to do this more than tonight. It’s like a shot of desire runs straight through her, thighs slicker as she presses her chest against him. “Guess we will,” Galadriel murmurs, tugs on his shirt, draws him in for another kiss.
Elendil sighs.
As Halbrand slides his tongue into her mouth, Galadriel can’t help but think it’s more than worth the inevitable lecture.
****
He knows he should have left as soon as she’d fallen asleep, but Galadriel hadn’t been the only one exhausted after he’d collapsed beside her on the bed, spent. Light peeks in through curtains not quite pulled all the way shut, cascading beams of sunlight across the bed and right on his eyes. Halbrand lays an arm across them as he shifts, suddenly all too aware of where he’s at. He peers out from his arm and spots her barely a foot away, golden hair splayed out on the pillow around her as she’s curled up on her side.
She’s not at all like the briefings said she’d be. Not quite at all like the photos he’s seen of her, but hadn’t he told Thuri that none of them had seemed right. Her smile a little too tight, never quite matching the look in her eyes as she stood poised by family members at one event or another. She’s not been in the spotlight as much as her brothers, hidden away with private tutors in the palace walls, shipped to both of her grandparents’ lands during the summers.
This apartment is the first time she’s been allowed to live outside a palace walls.
Halbrand watches her shift, the blanket curled around her slides down her shoulder, reveals her breasts to him and he wants nothing more than to slip closer and take them in his hands and mouth. To feast as he’d done the night before. Better to leave her wanting though.
He slips out of the bed and gathers his pieces of clothing, pulls on enough to look half-way decent as she blinks awake at him. Halbrand leans over, captures her mouth in a possessive kiss before she can speak. She melts against him before her nails dig into his shoulders and back, tries to draw him closer to her. He chuckles as he pulls away, likes the contradictory surrender and fight.
Galadriel glances at the streaks of sunlight that spills through her window. “It’s early.”
“I have to get ready for work.” Not a lie. He reaches over and brushes strands of hair from her face, leans in and bypasses her mouth to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. Enjoys the way she shivers, her fingers trailing down his chest. “Think you can be a good girl for me?”
Her breath hitches as he pulls back enough to look down at her, enjoys her breathy look as she stares up at him before she juts her chin out. A little defiance. “Depends on what you want and if its beneficial to me.”
His smile is all teeth as he presses her back against the mattress, likes the punch in her breath as he dips his head and sucks at her breast. He bites and then sooths with his tongue, her moans and gasps a lovely little melody before he pulls back completely from her. “No touching yourself until we see one another again.”
She props herself up on her elbows. “And that’ll be?” she asks, tilts her head as if she needs to consider it. He sees how she’s already pressing her thighs together, the way her tongue darts out along her bottom lip as he buttons his shirt.
He should make her wait a week for all of her cheek but that means he needs to wait a week. “Tuesday work for you?” Four days. He has shit he needs to get done anyway.
He likes how she brushes her teeth against her lower lip, nose scrunches and he’s seen that look before on her. She’s mentally going through her calendar. She’d done similar when Nori and her had made plans at one of their prior meet ups. “I have a charity event I have to attend during the day.”
He can work with that. “Until?”
She slides across the bed as he finishes with the last button, blanket pools around her waist, pert breasts on full display for him. “I should be back by eight.”
“Good. My place next time.” It’s not a question. Her bodyguard can deal.
“Sure.”
He grasps hold of her chin as he kisses her again, holds her exactly where he wants her and pulls back precisely when he wants to. Halbrand grins at the headiness in her gaze, her little gasp for air as he grabs his keys from her nightstand. He hears her fall back against the bed as he leaves her room, unsurprised to find Elendil sitting on one of the couches. He hadn’t gotten a good look at this part of her apartment last night, but the layout is the exact same as his own. He’ll learn it better later.
Halbrand nods to the man who only looks up at him over the newspaper he’s leafing through. Elendil says nothing, turns his attention back to his paper as Halbrand leaves the apartment. He takes the stairs instead of the elevator, clocks how many steps it takes to get from her door to his own before he steps inside. He easily catches the knife that comes flying at his face, readies to hurl it back when he spots the woman sitting on his overlarge chair.
Thuringwethil arches a brow at him as she smooths down her dark hair. She taps her watch as she raises her hand. “You’re late.”
He hands her knife back to her before he shrugs off his jacket. “Technically I’ve been back since before midnight.”
He grins at her confusion that slowly turns to her narrowing her eyes. “Tell me you did not fuck the princess.”
Halbrand shrugs. “Do you want me to lie to you?” His shoes are placed in their designated spot on the rack by the door. Lined up perfectly with the others. “And she has a name. Galadriel.” He knows he’s saying it wrong, but he likes the way Galadriel looks at him when he does so.
“You’re lucky Adar isn’t here yet,” Thuringwethil mutters as she nods towards the laptops and maps spread out on his coffee table. “He’s a damn gossip.”
Halbrand has to bend down and right the map until its lined up perfectly with the edges of the table. “At least you got her out of your system,” Thuringwethil continues and Halbrand rises.
“I need to shower and change before Adar arrives.” He knows he reeks of sex. No need to add kindling to an already roaring fire.
“Tell me you’re not planning on doing that again, Anni.”
“Halbrand,” he corrects. He presses a quick kiss to the top her head. “And you don’t like when I lie. Focus on what we need to know about the target, not my extracurriculars.”
“I swear for all your love of order you are the messiest man I know,” she mutters. Halbrand chuckles all the way into his room, unbothered. Life is too short, the end of it too unknown, for him to not indulge when he can. He’ll be long gone before everything crashes and burns.