Title: Jealous
Author: Linderith of Lórien (Linderith@seznam.cz)
Pairing: Celeborn/Haldir. Don’t let yourself be tricked by the intro.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: as usual... Nothing mine, no profit.
Summary: Beautiful Haldir takes what isn’t his and furious Celeborn
wants it back.
Feedback: Let me know if you like this. Should we go for a sequel?

Galadriel rolled her eyes in affected boredom. Celeborn covered his
face with his hands: “What would you expect after twenty five hundred
years of marriage?” He rose from the bed. “You don’t love me anymore,
Galadriel. Why pretending otherwise?”

Galadriel too left the bed, wearing only the dim light of Ithil
streaming through the branches, all shaking with contained anger, her
eyes gleaming.

“For this. For whiles like this. Why do you think I took you here,
Celeborn? Look at yourself! Look how boring you are! You are obsessed
with fading! You are beginning to fade yourself!”

He was staring at her open-mouthed. It’s been too long since he saw
his wife as the spirit of fire she truly was, so very like her
long-lost brothers. And suddenly he felt she was right.

“When did you last go out at night? I haven’t heard you sing for
ages! When did you last take pleasure in any other’s presence?!” she
shouted straight into his face.

“And you think you can save me by dragging me out of bed in the
middle of night and taking me to the borders?!” he barked in
response.

“No one can save you! You’re hopeless!” she hissed.

“Then do not try...” he whispered; almost brokenly it sounded to her
ears. She tried to take him in her arms for comfort, but he jerked
away.

“Celeborn...you are my man, and I love you...” she said, forcing as
much calm to her voice as was possible. His eyes flashed anew: “That
filthy border guard is your man too? Do you whisper the same words to
him as you used to say me when he’s laying claim to all that used to
be mine?”

“So, that’s your problem. Haldir is your problem.”
He stopped his pacing across the talan and spun around to face his
wife.
“Yea. Haldir seems to be a BIG problem of mine. You serve this
*soldier* so willingly, Lady...and that is most undignified...”
“Celeborn...” she moaned helplessly.
“Would you say nothing to defend yourself, Galadriel?” he asked,
quite tenderly, sadness so unbecoming his blazing eyes.
“When did you last ´lay claim´ to all you think to be yours?” she
asked coldly, using his own words to increase the mocking effect, as
she began to dress. He sank back onto the soft bed.
“Forgive me, Galadriel... my harsh words...” he said silently, not
daring to meet her eyes.
“I’m sure it was right here where you and Haldir... for last...”
Celeborn said, almost to himself, but Galadriel heard and understood.
She laid her hand on her husband’s shoulder.
“Do you love him?” he asked again, catching Galadriel unprepared.
She remained silent, which drew otherwise calm Celeborn to anger
again.
“Are you thinking of me, when you fuck him?!” he yelled. But no reply
came, and the warmth-providing hand trembled and left his shoulder.
“How dare you, Celeborn... speak of me in this manner...We both had
lovers, and I’ve never reproached you with that...” she said and
turned away from him quickly, so that he missed the tear sliding down
her pale cheek.
“You gave me no answer, Galadriel,” he growled.
“Does it matter to you  anyhow?”
“Oh...he must be good then. Very good. Does he make you scream his
name, Lady?”
“Celeborn, that is... enough.”
He didn’t know why he was torturing himself like that. He loved his
wife. And he realized he hated Haldir. Haldir, the best of his border
guards.
“Aye...that’s enough...” he whispered, as he watched his life-mate
leave the talan, her silken hair shining of its own accord under the
fading stars. He wished he could see the fire of sunrise in her
golden crown, as he used to do before, in happier days. ‘When did you
last lay claim to all you think to be yours,’ little hateful voice
inside his head kept repeating. ‘She ran away from me, so she can be
with him,’ he thought, ´and now she is probably sleeping in his arms.´
He could clearly imagine Haldir smiling in his sleep as he held the
Lady of the Wood close, one arm possessively hugging the supple, lean
body, her soft curves melting into him. Celeborn remembered well how
it all began. He could never deny his beautiful, passionate wife
anything. He, too, took lovers, but only for one night, and this
thing between Galadriel and Haldir lasting for so long was disturbing
him, to say at least.
He got dressed and left the talan. Anor rose in all her glory above
the East. Celeborn sank to his knees and sat on his heels on the
moss-covered grass. He felt small, tired and vulnerable, and also
angry with himself and with Haldir. It’s been long since his sleep
was undisturbed, and he had dreams of those happier days he had
thought of before. There was a misty yearning deep in his heart, he
longed to go somewhere and stay there for good, yet he didn’t know
where; he wanted to give voice and shape to all the things that
existed within his mind, and he didn’t know how; he longed for peace
– for a short while thinking it may be only the peace of death that
would grant him rest, men’s way of death, which was impossible for
his kind; he wanted Galadriel to love him the way she once did, and
wanted that love to stay and last, not to fade and vanish...And then
he thought he wanted just *someone* to love him the way Galadriel
once did, anyone.
The thought came unbidden to his mind, bitter as a sober morning
after long night: ´I’m finally seeing the truth... My life has been a
lie for years... So stupid... So blind...´
He suddenly knew. Jealousy and anger beyond measure seized his mind.
He strode through the forest, looking for the March-warden. Images of
Galadriel trashing beneath the fair-haired warrior were flashing
through his mind. He let his senses lead him among the mellyrn, until
he reached a small clearing with a little pool of silvery water in
its center, which the Elves of Lórien sometimes used for bathing.
	Should the circumstances be any other, Celeborn would stand back and
admire the Elf’s beauty. Haldir had just left the pool, he was
wearing only leggings of deep green on his long, long legs. Silver
hairbrush in his hand was glittering in the morning sun.
Telperion-hued mane was reaching well to his waist, falling in soft
silvery cascades over strong shoulders and back, gleaming against
Haldir’s tawny skin. He looked like some god of twilight with that
silver hair and skin a shade of dusk.
Soon, he felt the other’s presence and slowly turned to Celeborn, who
was to speak first: “How does this fair morning find you, Haldir?”
He smiled, an innocent smile that made Celebrants blood boil beneath
the calm façade.
“Well, my Lord. How it is so you are here this early in the morning?”
Celeborn ignored the question.
“And did you sleep well?” he asked, satisfied as he saw Haldir’s
puzzled look.
“Yea, but...” the March-warden said, his voice unsteady.
“And alone, or with my wife?” Celeborn added the least drop.
Bitterness and rage rose inside him, pushing him far beyond the point
of rational thought. Before he knew how, his fist landed firmly in
Haldir’s face. The power of the impact sent the Elf reeling. With a
moan of pain, Haldir curled up into a protective ball on the forest
floor.
“My Lord, what are you-“ he whimpered, but had no chance to finish
the question. Celeborn grabbed him roughly by the hair and pulled him
up, so that they were eye-level.
“Let’s forget ranks for a while, Haldir,” he growled into the pointed
ear. Haldir trembled.
“Is that a challenge?” he asked, his voice small and unsure.
“Take it that way. I don’t want to share my woman any longer.”
The hairbrush he’d been clutching slipped out of Haldir’s hand. He
was watching his opponent and waiting. It was madness. In a split of
a second, Celeborn leaped forth and they tumbled to the ground.
Rolling in the high grass, they filled the clearing with their cries.
Celeborn was merciless. Blood was streaming from Haldir’s splitted
lip down his chin, leaving dark stains on the sleeves of Celebrants
blue tunic. Haldir reversed their positions and straddled Celebrants
stomach. The Elf-Lord cried out under him. Haldir slapped the fair
face hard, but still he pulled the hit, for he did not want to really
hurt his Lord. Celeborn seized the retreating fingers and pulled down
with all his might. Haldir was caught unawares and fell forward,
bracing himself gracelessly on Celebrants chest. Time seemed to be
frozen as Celebrants eyes widened. Haldir was suddenly well aware of
the spark that lit up the blue depths. He gasped, waiting for
whatever may ensue. The Lord’s hands cupped his face and seized him
in a breathtaking kiss, rough and demanding. Tasting the blood in
Haldir’s mouth, Celeborn shifted again and in one smooth move pinned
Haldir effectively under his body. First he licked those sensuously
shaped lips and proud chin and began his way down, following the line
of almost dried blood. Haldir moaned, as soft lips kissed and licked
the underside of his chin, almost purring when Celeborn continued
along his jawline and to his ear. One strong arm took his wrists and
raised them above his head, while the other unlaced his leggings and
slid under the fabric. Haldir cried out and arched into the touch,
making Celeborn bite the tender skin under his ear and suck hard
until the sharp sting of sweet pain shook Haldir to the core. He was
murmuring unintelligibly and writhing under the Elven Lord. Celeborn
licked his fingers and thrust two of them into the dark entrance to
Haldir’s body. A sharp cry of pain left the swollen lips. Yet another
sound caught Celebrants attention and his head snapped up at the
stunned gasp he heard. Galadriel was standing in the gap among the
mellyrn, clearly left speechless, staring at the passionate tableau
unfolding before her very eyes.
Haldir, lost in his own erotic world, didn’t even notice. He impaled
himself fully upon Celebrants fingers and let out a blissful sigh,
the sound itself a pure temptation. Long fingers probed deep and
hard, stretching the tight flesh, not bothering to be gentle and send
the March-warden into the very heaven. But Haldir knew exactly how to
angle his hips and within a second he cried out, a needy, frustrated
sound, all his dignity forgotten, as he tried to move upon the
Elf-Lord’s fingers, as much as his submissive position would allow.
Galadriel smiled and left the clearing. She would deal with both her
husband and her lover later.
Celeborn didn’t even notice his wife’s depart, so infatuated with
Haldir he was. He couldn’t get enough of the scent of trees and earth
lingering in the guard’s thick hair, of the sweet arousing noises
Haldir made; he simply couldn’t have his fill of Haldir, of the lean,
long-limbed body writhing under his, of the silkiness of his skin and
the smooth, strong muscles it covered.
“Take me, Celeborn...” Haldir moaned helplessly, and the Lord noticed
there was almost a desperate note to his voice.
“As you wish...” Celeborn sat back on his heels and urged Haldir into
a position he wanted him to be. The Guard had his back now to
Celeborn, kneeling, his legs splayed alongside Celebrants thighs. He
slowly sank down upon the Lord’s length, his breath catching in his
throat as he felt himself stretch around Celebrants shaft. But the
Lord’s patience was soon spent, he grabbed Haldir by the hips and
slammed him down into his lap, moving his own hips in contrary
direction.
Haldir gave a shuddering cry of pain as he was fully impaled, his
hands clenching into fists and his teeth drawing blood from his lower
lip again.
Celeborn felt a stab of pain around his heart. This can’t be, he
thought, no, he cannot pity Haldir... But he had to. He crossed his
arms protectively on Haldir’s chest and drew him closer, his own
chest pressing against the Guard’s back, and he held him, hugged him
tightly, and quietly sang sweet words into the flaxen mess of hair,
until Haldir stopped trembling and relaxed into Celebrants soothing
touch.
“Haldir...I didn’t want to hurt you...I am sorry,” the Elf Lord
whispered, nuzzling the alabaster neck under the Guard’s perfectly
shaped ear, and Haldir only sighed, quite happily, and leaned into
the warm body behind him. The next while he tensed again, as Celeborn
carefully slid out of his body, still running light fingers over his
chest.
“Why don’t you – I thought we will...” Haldir stammered, trying to
get the Lord back to where he was. But Celeborn had another idea. He
pushed Haldir down to lie flat on his back in the grass and sweetly
smelling flowers crushed by their bodies. Shining blond mane spread
under them like a blanket. Celeborn followed him onto the ground,
morning sun dancing in his silver hair. At first he just laid beside
the Guard, his hands hungry for more of his silky skin, more
touching, just more – Haldir’s lips reached for his from below,
strong arms encircled the Elf Lord and pulled him onto the heated
body once again. Haldir lifted his legs, laying his ankles across
Celebrants back, locking them together, still deepening the kiss.
Their bodies gently rubbed against each other, their tongues sparring
tenderly, Celeborn swallowing Haldir’s sounds as well as his own.
“Love me – now...” Haldir moaned, pulling Celeborn even closer. And
so the Lord did. His self-slickened shaft slid smoothly past Haldir’s
tight opening and inside. Celeborn lifted, supporting his weight on
his elbows, and pushed in to the hilt, cursing under his breath at
the tightness of the Guard’s insides. He wanted this moment to last
as long as possible.
Haldir writhed under him, pulling a cry from the Lord. Celeborn
couldn’t hold back any longer. He began thrusting into the willing
body below him, drove to distraction by Haldir’s joyous shouts, and
soon he slammed into him full force, all gentleness gone to the
satisfaction of them both. Haldir grabbed a fistful of the silver
hair and pulled Celeborn down for a dazing kiss. Muffled moans and
cries echoed through the little clearing. The Elf Lord laid a
restraining hand across Haldir’s chest and rammed into him harder and
deeper, a few final thrusts, to spend himself finally within the warm
body. He gave a strangled cry and collapsed down upon his lover’s
chest.
It was then, when he caught his breath, he realised Haldir’s pleading
gaze on him. Celeborn slid down the solid frame and lovingly
swallowed the glistening shaft, licking and sucking until the Elf
came with a harsh cry and filled up his mouth.

“Well, now I can do all the bathing again,” Haldir chuckled, as
Celeborn wrapped his arms around him and drew him closer, resting his
head on his shoulder. It was more than pleasant to be held thus, and
Haldir gave himself fully into Celebrants gentle ministrations.
“So, it took a bit... wrong turn, I suppose,” Celeborn finally
drawled out. Haldir inclined his head for a better view.
“I mean – I was really angry with you, and with Galadriel...” he
continued. Haldir only shook his silver head:
“If you still have the urge to kill me, now is the right while. I’m
completely at your mercy, Celeborn.”
“Why should I do that?”
“You tell me. I didn’t storm into the midst of your morning routine,
nearly break your nose and then...” Haldir had a horrible feeling he
is blushing. He had never been blushing, it didn’t go with his
temper, but this strange heat in his cheeks was exactly fitting into
Rumil´s description.
Celeborn squeezed his eyes shut. Yes, Haldir was right to be
confused, maybe upset... First he came as a revenging angel, then it
really took a turn, although Celeborn was unsure if wrong or right.
He felt wonderful, just lying on the grass and holding Haldir close –
it felt right. Holding the lover of his wife felt right. The said
lover extracted himself from the Lord’s arms and plunged into the
pool, smoothly breaking the surface, his blond head appearing here
and there; Haldir was just having fun like a seal, alternately diving
and emerging from under the surface.
Celeborn sighed. At first, he thought this will be nothing more than
punishment, a revenge for stealing his wife. How he missed her touch
– until now. He’d always had an eye for beautiful Elves of both
sexes, and so had his wife; and although she more inclined to fall
for a male, female arms wouldn’t be anything new for her.
“Haldir! Come back over here!” he addressed the otter in the pool.
Having his head for that moment above the surface, Haldir heard him,
but chose not to obey. Instead he made a “follow-me” gesture with his
hand and dove back under the water.
Celeborn sighed again. Though the blond temptation in the pool was
irresistible, his disturbing thoughts wouldn’t let him join the wet
and merry creature. So he merely waited, all the while pondering his
strange feelings for Haldir, until the said Guardian emerged from the
water and in all his glorious nakedness joined Celeborn on the soft
green grass.
“I’m shrinking,” he laughed, settling down among the pale flowers. He
picked a few and then began to make a wreath of them.
Celeborn was watching him, and nothing went unnoticed. The
unconscious smile tugging at Haldir’s lips, the graceful dance of
deft fingers over fragile petals, wind gently playing with shining
strands of hair.
“Here – now you really look like the king of this forest’s folk,” he
smiled, as he laid a crown of niphredil upon the Lord’s head.
“You know how *you* look?” Celeborn asked, seizing Haldir’s waist and
drawing him closer.
“Surely wonderful...?” Haldir tried; and Celeborn poked him in the
ribs none-too-gently.
“Get dressed, you imp,” he suggested, drawing the pouting lips into
an enticing kiss. Haldir rested his head on his lover’s shoulder.
“You want me to get dressed?” he asked innocently and licked the
hollow of Celebrants throat.
“Did I say anything like that?” Celeborn wondered, leaning into the
deliberate caress. As Haldir moved his ministrations to the pointed
ear, Celeborn was lost again. He nuzzled closer and moaned low in his
throat, encouraging his lover to continue.
And Haldir needed no persuasion, when it came to love, so he pushed
the Elf Lord’s shoulders to lay him down and quickly followed. His
hand slid down the toned stomach to grasp Celebrants rapidly growing
erection, his lips and tongue claimed his mouth. Without breaking the
kiss, Haldir laid atop his lover, easing himself in-between his
thighs, bringing their arousals into mind-numbing contact.
They rubbed against each other, eyes closed in bliss, moaning with
each move. They were swiftly nearing the breaking point, until Haldir
slid down the heated body and took the head of Celebrants shaft into
his mouth. The Lord cried out, gripped Haldir’s hair and forced the
skilled mouth deeper into his lap, until Haldir swallowed the whole
length. Passion shook Celeborn to the core. He threw his head back,
moaning nearly continually; and let Haldir ride the wave of ecstasy
within his body.
And the Guardian was indeed masterful. In a nick of time he took
Celeborn over the edge. Swallowing the silvery essence, Haldir kissed
the Lord’s mouth hard and let Celebrants hand bring him to his peak
once again.

“I’d be better off, I’m taking my shift...” Haldir announced
leisurely, once he’d recovered from the orgasmic aftershocks.
“Of course,” muttered Celeborn, not quite sure if he could live over
the sudden pain spreading through his chest. He couldn’t understand
why he felt so lone and rejected as he watched Haldir getting
dressed.
No, he thought again, this can’t be, this isn’t possible... It felt
like if someone’s rough hand was bruising his heart, as he watched
the retreating back until Haldir left his sight.
He should had known he loved Haldir, before he set the beast inside
him so carelessly free.