An Unexpected Visit
Posted: December 2002
Title: An Unexpected Visit
Author: Celebrethil
Type: FCS
Characters: Celeborn and Haldir
Rating: R
Author's notes: Written in thanks for a list sib that wrote me a ficlet for
my B-day. I meant it to be a lot shorter, but Hal-muse had other ideas.
Summary: Elves are dangerous and untrusworthy -- aren't they? One human woman's edification on a rainy night.
*****
It had been raining buckets for two days and the inn yard was flooded. With the churning of horses hooves and cartwheels, it had become ankle-deep mud. Tamryn, the orphan lad that they fostered to help with the firewood and feeding the chickens always ended up with mud to the eyebrows and constantly tracked it into the kitchen. It made Implacida crazy but she'd given up cleaning up after the boy, her husband and the serving girl. There was too much else to do. The bread to be baked, the vegetables and meat cut up for the evening stew, the barrels of ale being delivered stacked up properly in the cool house…
"Sidelle!" Implacida called for the serving girl. "Make sure the chamber pots are cleaned out upstairs. We are sure to have guests tonight with this cursed rain!"
The girl made a face but obeyed. Implacida went back to kneading the bread and kicking the dog out of the pantry. Her husband walked by, a barrel of ale on his shoulder and a bag of carrots in his hand.
"The drover said to give these to you…" he told her, handing her the bag.
"Ah, very good – " A commotion from the main room interrupting them, a commanding voice spoke roughly. Little Tamryn shot into the kitchen, face white under the mud, eyes bugging out. Jareth needed no explanation, almost dropping the barrel of ale as he put it down, and ran out of the kitchen. There must be trouble.
"What is it?" Implacida asked the lad, cleaning her hands of dough on her apron. "Who's come?"
"Elves," the boy whispered. Implacida paled. Elves? In her inn? What could they possibly want?
She'd known of elves all her life, of course, and seen a few from a distance, but never ever one up close. She felt her heart pounding in her throat. There were so many tales….Some said elves were good luck, others said they were bad luck.
"Never trust anything an elf tells you," her grandfather used to say. She wondered why, since no one she knew had ever even spoken to one.
And now, apparently, there were elves in the tavern. Jareth came back into the kitchen, white and bug-eyed as Tamryn. Implacida's heart started to race again.
"Tamryn! Take the pony and go get the old woman! One of them is hurt!" He turned to Implacida. "Prepare one of the rooms upstairs and have Sidelle start a bath. They are both covered in mud. I'm going to tend to their horses." With that, he slipped out the back and left her alone with them.
She nervously checked her hair, to make sure her bun was not coming undone and removed her floury apron.
She moved quickly to the swinging doors and pushed one open slightly. A soft musical voice spoke to her, making her jump.
"Do not be afraid. You will not be hurt."
Implacida's eyes locked onto depthless dark ones. Despite the mud and disheveled appearance, the elf to whom the eyes belonged was incredibly beautiful and regal, sitting on one of the benches, another muddy elf in his arms, quite unconscious. An elegant eyebrow quirked up and looked her up and down.
"Are you a Man or a Halfling?" the elf asked, rather rudely, Implacida thought. She felt her face go red. If she hadn't been so terrified, she would have given him the rough side of her tongue.
Sidelle chose that moment to come bounding down the stairs. She stopped at the bottom and shrieked. The unconscious elf moaned and Implacida went into action.
"Foolish girl! Stop your screeching!" she told her, grabbing her arm and instructing her to draw a bath in the larger front room upstairs. Sidelle ran into the kitchen to get the hot water.
"Please," Implacida said to the elf. "Follow me. We will try to make your companion as comfortable as possible while we wait for the old woman."
"Old woman?" the elf asked as he followed her upstairs carrying the other one in his arms as if he were but goose down.
"She's the village healer. She will know what to do," Implacida answered, hoping it was true.
Instead of setting the injured elf on the bed, he was laid gently on the hearthrug. Implacida rushed to start a fire in the small grate. When she turned around, Sidelle was dumping hot water into the wooden tub, and the tall elf was carefully undressing the unconscious one.
Implacida could not tear her eyes away from the scene. He undressed the unconscious elf with such tenderness and gentleness that it caused tears to fill her eyes. Never had she seen a male so gentle with another.
"What happened to him?" she whispered.
The elf looked up. "The rain loosened the path we were on and his horse lost his footing and they went down an embankment. His leg was crushed under the horse. His head, too, has been injured."
"He should not be put in the hot water of the tub with those injuries," Implacida told him.
"No. I will bathe him here. I will use the tub for myself."
Implacida wondered at the music of his voice. Did all elves sound like that?
"Forgive me, Mistress," the elf said to her, sitting back on his heels. "I have been rude. My name is Celeborn." He bowed his head slightly.
Implacida curtseyed. "I am Implacida. Please ask for me if you need any assistance."
"I do need your assistance, Mistress Implacida. I need to get his boots off."
Together they completely undressed the injured elf, sponging him clean and washing his hair. Implacida wondered in awe at the sheer unearthly beauty of the naked elf; the perfection of his muscled torso and luminescent white skin. He looked like a Man, yet far beyond any Man she had ever seen. The beauty of the Firstborn was truly bewitching and she remembered the stories her grandfather told of elves' beautiful, seductive ways, that could lead a Man astray. She was suddenly afraid of her unexpected desire to stoke the elf's hairless chest and follow the line of muscles down to the small soft patch of curling hair at the base of his flaccid cock. Implacida shuddered and resolutely turned her mind from giving in to such an impulse.
The elf woke up half way through the bathing and spoke softly in Elvish to Celeborn and Implacida was reminded again of a musical instrument she had heard once long ago as a child. A harp it had been called and it had enchanted her with its beautiful sounds. Celeborn murmured back to him and wiped the injured elf's brow with a damp cloth. The elf turned to Implacida with curiosity in his eyes.
"This is Mistress Implacida, my love. Mistress, this is Haldir."
My love? Implacida thought, surprised.
"Thank you Mistress, for taking us in," Haldir whispered, his indigo eyes glazed with pain.
"I could do no less, sir," Implacida replied, blushing and looking away from his gaze.
By the time they were done and had transferred Haldir to the bed, the old healing woman had come, drenched but cheerful. She immediately took charge and Implacida was ordered around as if she were a serving girl.
A flurry of activity commenced and Haldir's head injury was bound with a poultice, his leg splint, and dosed with some potion that had him gagging while Celeborn looked suspiciously at the healer. She cackled at the tall, muddy elf and told him the ingredients. The tall elf visibly relaxed.
"He will be feeling sore tomorrow morning, but if I know elves, he will be able to ride," the healer told him.
"Thank you Lady," Celeborn murmured, bowing the old woman. He opened a pouch at his belt and pressed a gold coin into her hand.
She squawked in dismay. "Nonsense! I will not take such a thing! What would an old woman like me do with that?" She handed it back but then touched the carved knife at his belt. "Now that I could use."
Implacida was shocked at the old woman's audacity, and at the sight of the gold coin she had refused. A coin like that could run the inn for two months. She looked at the tall elf with new eyes. Who was he that he would carry such wealth?
Celeborn looked amused, but immediately undid his belt and pulled off the knife sheath, handing it to the healer hilt first. She chuckled and turned to Implacida, giving her yet more instructions on how to look after the elf. Then without a backward glance, she left the room.
Celeborn moved past Implacida and checked the temperature of the water in the tub. "Good enough. Doesn't have to be hot," he murmured, and began to disrobe. "Do you have more soap, Mistress?"
Implacida swallowed, seeing more luminescent elf skin than she could bear. "Y-yes, lord. I will fetch some directly," she stammered and fled the room.
She returned shortly with a small stone container of her best rose soap, saved for special occasions. She breathed a sigh of relief to see that Celeborn was already in the tub, scrubbing the mud from his hair. The water was already filthy and she called down to Sidelle to bring up more clean hot water.
She handed the pot to him and he sniffed it and smiled such a sweet smile of gratitude that it made her heart flip in her bosom.
He stood up in the tub and lathered himself all over, making Implacida's face burn with embarrassment and … something else. Sidelle stopped in the doorway and stared with wide eyes at the naked, lathered elf. Implacida took the buckets from her, set them aside, and told her to get more, pushing her out the door and shutting it.
Celeborn took one of the buckets and upended it slowly over his head, the lather chased down his sleek body by the warm water. Implacida watched it flow in sheets and rivulets over perfect skin and the defined musculature of torso and legs. The elf handed the empty bucket to her blindly and wiped his face of water. He leaned his head back and squeezed the water from his long silver hair and Implacida knew at that moment she would never see such beauty, such perfection again in her life.
He reached for the other bucket and did the same, but this time leaning forward and concentrating on his hair. Implacida could not tear her gaze away from the vision, even when the knock at the door sounded and she went to answer it. Sidelle was there with two more buckets. Implacida took them from her and shut the door with her hip.
She took the wash basin from the table and put it on the floor next to the tub. Celeborn neatly stepped into the basin and Implacida rinsed off his lower legs and feet. She handed him a towel and watched him on the sly as he dried himself while she busied herself picking up the muddy garments of both elves.
"I will wash these for you, lord. They will be ready for you by morning. I will bring something for you to wear to supper."
"There is no need Mistress" he replied, voice a bit muffled in the towel. "I will take my supper here in the room. I will not leave Haldir."
"But you cannot stay unclothed…" Implacida protested.
Celeborn smiled. "But of course I can. Haldir and I have spend days unclothed in the forest."
Implacida blinked rapidly at the thought of both elves bare as eggs in the forest. What – what did they do there? she wondered.
"As you wish, lord," she replied as she curtseyed. With the bundle of clothing in her arms, she left the room.
Supper was a simple affair; venison stew with fresh spring vegetables, made sweet and thick by baby carrots and new potatoes.
The tray Implacida brought up to the elves was laden with a bowl of the stew, fresh baked bread, and a pitcher of ale for Celeborn, with a bowl of bread soaked in milk and broth for Haldir.
Celeborn opened the door before she was able to set the tray down to knock.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, in surprise at his anticipation.
"I heard you come up the stairs," he chuckled, taking the tray from her. He turned around and Implacida swallowed, watching the play of muscles in his bare buttocks as he walked to the table where he set down the tray.
He motioned for her to come in. She shut the door behind her.
"Could you help me feed him? I have a feeling he will be a bit of trouble, especially with bread and warm milk."
Haldir, who was awake and propped up with pillows, gave Celeborn a look that would wither a Balrog. Implacida stopped short. She certainly didn't want her head bitten off by an enraged elf.
As if reading her mind, Celeborn laughed and motioned her closer. "He won't bite you, Mistress, I promise. Will you Haldir? You'll eat your supper while I eat mine and then you'll sleep."
"I can feed myself," Haldir hissed.
Celeborn handed Implacida the bowl of bread and milk, completely ignoring Haldir. He sat down and took up his own bowl of stew and a spoon and began to eat, looking regal despite the cheapness of the chair and his own nakedness.
Implacida looked at Haldir and Haldir looked at her, his dark blue eyes glinting in the light of the candle, and slowly bared his teeth at her. She felt a thrill of …. what? It wasn't fear.
She smiled back; a smile she hadn't tried in a while. A slow seductive smile that made Haldir's eyes widen and swallow convulsively. His shining eyes jerked from hers to Celeborn behind her, but there was no help there. The elf was busy with his own supper. Implacida came closer and sat down on the bed next to Haldir's hip. He was still uncovered and without clothing, like his companion. Implacida was accustomed to seeing men naked, it was nothing to her. But these elves' bodies made her feel something that she hadn't in quite a while.
She kept eye contact with Haldir and she raised the spoon.
"Be good now, and open your mouth," Implacida whispered as she scooped up the warm bread and milk. Haldir's eyes dropped to the spoon and, was she mistaken? Was he looking at her bosom?
She looked down reflexively and saw that yes, indeed, she was quite disheveled from the many trips up and down the staircase and her kerchief had come undone.
She bent forward slightly to bring the spoon to Haldir's mouth and, without taking his eyes from their target, he opened his mouth to receive it. Implacida smiled to herself. Elf or Man, they were all the same.
"Very good!" Implacida encouraged, as if the elf were a small child. It was the wrong tack. He raised his eyes and one eyebrow, barely veiling his scorn.
Implacida felt her face go red, but she'd not backed down from more frightening visages. She'd taken care of more than one angry, punch-drunk farmer or woodsman in her time. A thrill of odd excitement jolted through her.
What was the magic of these Firstborn that they could make her feel this way? Had her grandfather been right when he said they were dangerous, seductive creatures not to be trusted? They certainly didn't look dangerous…but, O Valar, they were beautiful…
"Have I grown a third eye, Mistress?" Haldir's voice cut through her thoughts.
"What?"
"You've been staring at me and decidedly not feeding me the vile bread and milk."
"Oh," she exclaimed and bent forward again to feed him the spoon. His eyes glinted with amusement, but opened his mouth nonetheless.
"Are you so generous of your charms with all your boarders?" he asked, rather sarcastically, Implacida thought.
"No," she replied, insulted at the implication. "I merely thought to make it easier for both of us."
Haldir burst into laughter, throwing his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut. Implacida was amazed at the transformation. If she had thought him beautiful before, this was beyond words. The sound of his laugh pierced her very heart and filled it with a yearning she had never known before.
His laughter subsided, to her regret, and he placed a hand on her forearm, smiling sweetly. "Forgive me Mistress, I was not making merry at your expense. I am pleased by your honesty. I usually find Men to be quite devious and tiresome, always wanting something from us. But you, dear lady, are quite refreshing."
Implacida blushed to the roots of her hair and smiled happily. "I would hear you laugh again," she told him.
His eyebrow quirked again, but this time with pleasure. "Tell me a bawdy jest then. I'm sure you know plenty!"
She looked behind her to Celeborn, but he was sitting back in the chair, his eyes gone silver and his face filled with a strange light. She looked back at Haldir with alarm in her eyes…what was he doing?
"Fear not, Mistress," Haldir told her, his hand tightening on her arm. "He speaks to his wife."
"Speaks…?" She stopped when she saw the sadness in his eyes. She didn't know what caused it, but she didn't like it.
"Finish your supper first and then I will tell you every bawdy jest I know," Implacida told him firmly. "I don't want you to choke on it."
He tore his eyes from Celeborn and nodded to her and opened his mouth.
~~~
Implacida banked the hearth fire in the kitchen and prepared the herbs from the packets the old woman had given her to redress Haldir's head wound and miscellaneous scrapes. It was late and she was tired, but she could not shirk this last task. Besides, she wanted to see the elves one more time. She didn't know if they'd be gone by the time she rose in the morning.
As she neared the door with the tray of bandage linens and steeped herbs, Implacida heard a moan and became frightened that Haldir was in severe pain. She did not pause to knock and opened the door without preamble, rushing in.
The tableau that met her eyes shocked her into complete stillness.
Celeborn lay closely next to Haldir, his legs entwined around Haldir's uninjured one. Both of them were still unclothed, despite the freshly laundered garments stacked on the table. His face was buried in Haldir's hair and his hand was gripping Haldir's quite erect cock and stroking it lovingly. Haldir was arching his back in the throes of completing his pleasure and neither of them had noticed her entry. Or so she thought.
Haldir relaxed and opened his eyes, and blessed her with a sweet smile. Celeborn looked up and smiled as well. "He couldn't sleep," he said, by way of explanation.
Implacida opened her mouth but no sound came out, so aroused by the sight was she. Celeborn chuckled and got up, taking the tray from her.
"He will be quite amenable to your ministrations now, at any rate," he told her with a wink. He turned back to the bed and Implacida could not help but notice his own erection jutting from his loins. The thought of touching it made her feel faint. She took the few steps to the bed on wobbly knees and sat down rather hard. Celeborn joined her on Haldir's other side.
As she redressed Haldir's head with a new poultice, she was vaguely amazed at the speedy healing of the wound. What took away most of her attention, though, was Haldir's hand upon Celeborn's cock and the slow way he stroked it.
"There's no need," Celeborn whispered, his voice slightly strained.
But Haldir merely smiled, his cheeks rosy with fulfillment, and continued.
Implacida was torn in two by conflicting desires: she wished to finish quickly and run out of the room, leaving them to their privacy, yet – the look on Celeborn's face, the love shining out of Haldir's eyes kept her rooted to the bed. She forced herself to get up as she finished but Haldir grabbed her hand and put the palm of it to his mouth. He kissed it wetly and Implacida trembled and gasped, bowing her head.
"Look at him. Isn't he beautiful?" Haldir asked, his voice laden with adoration.
Implacida looked up at Celeborn and he threw his head back as he reached his climax. Thick pearlescent fluid, similar to what she had cleaned off Haldir's belly, shot out to land on Haldir's thigh, Celeborn's throaty groan punctuating it's release.
She could now understand Haldir's sadness at the mention of a wife, and the care Celeborn had taken at Haldir's bath. It seemed fitting that two such beautiful creatures should share each other's bodies. She smiled, feeling a bittersweet joy at the knowledge they had gifted her with. She knew that she would never be the same, having experienced the love of elves. The love of Men would be a pale compromise at best.
And she could also understand now, her grandfather's warnings.
Celeborn leaned over Haldir's thighs and kissed her mouth with soft lips.
She got up and left, wiping sudden tears.
~~~
The next morning, they were gone and Implacida went into
the room to find a daisy from the field stuck into the mouth of a butter-soft
leather purse that held two gold coins.
*****
THE END
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Celebrethil
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