It is hard to be old, but there's something liberating about old age, too, because finally you realize that you can claim your history in all its fullness, that you can give voice to your memory and speak it's truth, and that it is not a betrayal or an indiscretion to do so.
Two Rings: A Story of Love and War by Millie Werber and Eve Keller
Summary: What could have been, if Galadriel chose differently on the raft with Halbrand, and what led up to his offer.
Part 7 of Perfect Balance of Darkness and Light.
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Pairing: Galadriel x Halbrand
Rating: M
Chapter Word Count: 2100
Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Masterlist ]
Full story: [ AO3 ]
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Galadriel has revealed her plan to control and balance Halbrand’s darkness through her ring. He wants to punish her – with pleasure.
7. Bound
He stared at Galadriel in disbelief. She had tricked him. She would use the ring he made, that he came up with, to control him. To balance his darkness.
He should be furious.
Instead he was oddly impressed.
She was looking at her hand, rubbing the ring with her fingertip. “It feels strange.”
He put on his own ring, drawing in a sharp breath at the sudden surge of power that was drawn from the worlds, both the Seen and Unseen, and from his fëa, his spirit. The forces intertwined and flowed into the ring, and then poured back into him, filling his human form with power so immense and raw he felt his hairs stand out. The Halbrand body was pulled out of the Seen world and what remained was his own, true form.
“Mairon,” Galadriel breathed, eyes wide, jaw dropping. For the first time since they met she saw him.
Her awed reaction pleased him.
For her part, she looked the same, at least outwardly; being an elf, her body was already in both the Seen and the Unseen.
She appeared to regain her composure with an effort. “Your fëa is broken,” she remarked.
He frowned. He had not realized how intimately connected the two rings would be; forged in the same fire, with the same mithril, gold and lava. The only difference was the nature of their wearers. Through them, he felt her fëa, pure and whole, and it annoyed him that his soul was equally open to her.
Just because there was a darkness in him didn’t mean anything was wrong or broken.
“It is certainly not,” he retorted.
Her reaction to his voice – his true voice – gave him his good mood back. Through their bond he sensed her heart beat faster, and he saw a blush creeping up her cheeks. He knew she was attracted to his Halbrand appearance but this was different; the way she perceived his Maia form went way beyond physical lust. It bordered on worship.
He was not unaffected by her presence either. Through the new connection he curiously explored her inner self; admiring her fierce mental strength, her stubbornness. Her light. The dazzling light from the Two Trees where she grew up.
He had been drawn to it like a moth to fire from the moment he first set eyes on her. If she was nearly drooling at his Maia form, he felt the same about her light.
Now he noticed an increasing worry within her. Despite her bold, confident words about balancing his power and counteracting his will, she was afraid of the future. Of what he could do.
Of what she could do.
For, unlike the elven rings Celebrimbor had created in Eregion, these absorbed their wearer’s own strength and amplified it. A part of their fëar was bound to their rings now – and hence to each other.
Galadriel feared his influence and power over her.
It was unfounded; he knew she could still resist his attempts to bend her will. The rings had not changed the balance between them. But he found her apprehension almost as alluring as her light. It made her seem vulnerable. Breakable.
He suddenly wanted to exploit it. To intimidate her, and punish her for her obstination before. He wanted to see the capitulation in her eyes when he took possession of her the only way he truly could. Physically.
But this was not the place, nor the time. He must finish what he came here to do, and become the real king of the Southlands.
He glanced around. On the outside, the volcano was black and silent, slumbering again after its recent eruption. They were still alone. No Adar, no orcs alerted by the rings of power forged so close to their camp.
Good. This would almost be too easy.
”Time to go find my subjects in Pelargir,” he said, taking off the ring to reappear as Halbrand. In time, he would show his people his true form, but first he would kill the traitor Adar and take control over his orc “children”.
~
Everyone cheered when Halbrand rode into Pelargir with Galadriel at his side. The people’s faces were lit with happy, relieved smiles. Their king had survived his near fatal injury.
He smiled benevolently back at them. Galadriel couldn’t say if it was a relief to see him as a familiar, scruffy human man, or whether she wanted him to be himself again.
Just thinking about it made her stomach flip embarrassingly. He was… she lacked words to describe him, really. She had always believed Maiar and Valar to be beautiful in an aesthetically pleasing way, like flowers or horses or a fine piece of art. But not him. Mairon’s fair vision and deep voice had been sensual in a dangerous way, and… erotic, somehow.
His true form made her at the same time want to run away the fastest she could and hump him like a horny dog.
The way he affected her was disconcerting. She worried she would fail her plan to balance his power. All he had to do was speak to her in his Maia voice and she would go weak at the knees.
The Southlanders, with Bronwyn leading the way, showed them around the small town. It had been little more than a fishing village when they arrived but already they had started to expand it, and near the waterline a fort was under construction.
Pleased, Halbrand commended them for their work, and even more so when Bronwyn took him to the house they had reserved for the king.
”It is simple,” she excused. ”In time we shall build you a palace.”
”I am a simple king. My queen and I don’t need luxury; this will do perfectly.” At her surprised look, he indicated Galadriel. ”We were wed in Eregion.”
Galadriel raised an eyebrow but didn’t object. In the elvish sense, they were wedded, and perhaps that was enough for Halbrand. If so, it was enough for her as well; she had no need for ceremonies.
”Tomorrow I will inform you of my plans forward,” Halbrand continued. ”Now I wish to retreat for the night; our journey was long and we are weary.”
Bronwyn bowed. ”I will have a meal brought to you. Sleep well, my lord.”
The house was indeed simple, but comfortably furnished. They sat at the rough table and ate in silence.
Galadriel kept twisting the ring still on her finger. She was becoming used to the feeling of strength and might emanating from it, but not to the darkness of its twin ring in Halbrand’s pocket. Though he wasn’t wearing it now, a part of his fëa was tied to it, the same way her own was tied to hers.
She recalled how it felt when he wore the ring; how torn and broken his fëa seemed, and wondered who did that to him. The same person who gave him nightmares? Adar? Or Morgoth?
He had noticed her gaze and set his plate aside, catching her eyes with an intense expression. She recognized that predatory, wolf-before-a-rabbit stare; it was the one he used when he wanted to intimidate her.
She frowned and gave him a sharp thought: Do not look at me that way! With the help of the ring, the command became so much stronger. The feeling was intoxicating.
Halbrand immediately dropped his gaze, and judging by the furious blush appearing on his neck and cheeks it was not done voluntarily.
“Stop that.” He put his own ring on.
She hurriedly turned her back before the sight of him would weaken her resolve, but that was not much help against his deep, silky voice.
“Look at me, Galadriel,” he purred.
The voice sent a shiver running down her spine, all the way to her core. She fleetingly wondered what it would be like to make love while wearing the rings and felt an expectant throb.
She angrily squashed the thought. Focus!
No, she thought stubbornly.
Through the bond she perceived his reaction to her words. Annoyance. And respect over her strength to resist.
He took a step closer. Heat and power radiated from his tall form.
”Galadriel,” he repeated. He softly ran a fingertip through a strand of her hair, putting it behind her ear. He bent his head very close. ”Look at me…” His breath against her ear was hot and cold at the same time.
She shivered again. Her skin tingled.
”No.”
”I see.” His hands trailed down her dress, landing on her hips. He drew her back against him and she felt his arousal. ”I wouldn’t dream of forcing you to look if you prefer differently. So… I guess I’ll have to take you from behind.” He added in a throaty whisper: ”Or perhaps you would like a blindfold?”
She could hear the smirk in the seductive voice.
Damn him. He was playing her like a lyre.
But two could play that game.
She turned around. Sit.
He slumped down on a chair like his legs had failed him, but this time he didn’t become angry. The look in his fair, sensual Maia face told her he felt like he had won.
For once, she didn’t care. Her mouth was watering at the thought of all the things she wanted to do to him, and through the rings she felt his eager anticipation. His lust was immense, his gaze possessive.
Undress, she told him. If you want to, she added, with a belated notion that it was probably horribly wrong to use her mental power for something like this.
Mairon’s eyes crinkled in a distinctly Halbrand way. “How generous of you to let me decide.” He peeled off his garments slowly, exposing a smooth chest, perfectly sculpted and without a single blemish.
Suddenly she missed Halbrand’s coarse hairs and the puckered skin of his scar.
Making love to a Maia felt oddly forbidden.
But then he finished undressing. She swallowed thickly and took a hesitant step forward. “May I…?”
“You may.”
~
Galadriel was on her knees before him. Right where he wanted her, in a position of worship and reverence.
The problem was just that when she did what she was doing right now, she was in power. Her greedy lips and tongue made him nearly blackout. Weak like a kitten he leaned back, heart racing, breath erratic, clutching the hard wood of the chair with trembling fingers.
Tremor after tremor went through his body. He was losing control, unable to withstand her. If she didn’t stop he would climax prematurely like a teenager.
This was not at all what he had planned.
“Galadriel.”
She looked up at him, briefly pausing what she was doing. “Yes?”
That was the only respite he needed to get a grip on himself. Swiftly, he pulled her up onto his lap, pressing her against his hardness. “Undress – if you want to,” he mimicked her.
She did what he asked. Now it was his turn to look at her with worship; with the ring enhancing it, her inner light somehow made her skin glow, making her nude form so enticing he couldn’t sit still.
Jumping up, he caught her in his arms, pushing her down on the table in a clatter of plates and cutlery falling to the floor.
Intertwining his fingers with hers, he raised her arms above her head, leaning over her. He loved how small she looked, how powerless to his physical strength. And he loved the effect his appearance had on her, for if she wanted she could easily order him to stop and he would have to obey.
But she didn’t. That was what made it so thrilling.
“Spread your legs.”
She did.
Her eyes were large, lips parted.
When he slowly pressed into her he felt it in a surreal duality – both physically through their joint bodies and mentally through the rings. The intensity of her pleasure and his own in combination made him nearly lose control for the second time.
By her delighted expression, he concluded she had the same experience.
She gave him a smile filled with pure joy. “Amazing! I can feel – you, what you feel!”
Her happiness vanished every trace of his previous annoyance and strife to take control. When she smiled like that, all he could see was her light and goodness, and all he could feel was love.
“Amazing, indeed,” he mumbled, drinking in her radiance, allowing her light to seep through him. Like balm on his torn soul.
She must have felt his change of mood. Her eyes grew affectionate and she gently cupped his cheek. “Mairon.”
He leaned into her touch, then bent down to kiss her. “I love when you say my name.” He kissed her again. “I love you. And I don’t want to take you on a table like a peasant. You are my queen.”
He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.
Then they made love face to face, gently rocking back and forth, sharing their bliss, sharing their love.
King and queen, darkness and light, together in harmony and balance.
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A/N:
I’ve gone back and rearranged the previous chapters chronologically, except for the first one. I first published them in the order I wrote them, but this makes the story easier to follow.
I might continue it after season 2 of the show has aired. :)
A note about Galadriel’s mental command: it’s called ósanwe and is something only a few elves can master.
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/njycIVF
by Meraki (ParisAmy)
Dean Winchester has stared down monsters without blinking but tonight, at a quiet diner off the highway, he can’t seem to look his best friend in the eye. Across the table, Castiel Novak is just as tense, fidgeting with a secret of his own.
Both carry a velvet box in their pocket. Neither knows the other is doing the same.
Words: 2165, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Additional Tags: Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, Domestic Fluff, Humor
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/njycIVF
