Title: I'm Your Fella, Cinderella!

Author: Andariel666

Chapter: 6

POV: Tyrael

Disclaimer: Just having fun with our favourite LOTR toys, still don't own em. *pouts*

A/N: Just wanted to provide a quick message to the reviewers. First, THANK YOU THANK YOU! Second individual messages.

Drakeon: We both know elves are practically silent when they walk, however, I, (suzie) interpreted as thus; since elves have amazing hearing, they would be able to hear each other move around if they were listening for it, also, I would imagine their movement wouldn't be silent if they were agitated, which is how Kalia hears Legolas, Nessa, and the lovers. All are running, not walking. J. Later, Legolas walks up on Kalia, when she isn't listening for footsteps, and she doesn't hear him. Hope that clears ya up lol. Sorry you looked silly in the library. J But, I'm glad we made you chuckle. I, suzie, and glad my Kalia reminds you of someone as well. I just hope that's a good thing eh?

Vendea: Thank-you so much for your compliment. We will be sure to update quickly. Actually, *grin* we are nearly done, and Chapter 7 is a *big* one. Lots of things happening there. J We look forward to your reviews, and as this is my first fic, I(suzie) live for encouragement LOL. So, tell your friends to read it! LOL. I'm a review whore now LOL.

Dawn: We're both honoured that you would be so pleased with our madness that you would write a review. We both have read Cinderella type stories before, and enjoyed them, and decided it would be a great place for us to begin as a collaboration. Now, we are toying with a idea for a sequel. Tee hee. Thanks for reading, and I hope you bring friends.

Sokochan: Thanks for the reading, and glad we tickle your fancy. We have more antics planned so keep reading!

Oh, and one last thing. I feel it is prudent to warn ya, this *is* a story that is rated "R" and it is for a reason; it deals with adult themes and jokes. If you cannot cope, you aren't ready to read such stuff, *please* don't read and get upset mmkay? Good. Alrighty, on with the show!

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Things had been looking up for me. Kalia and I had become good friends, she was my first female friend I might add, and my laughter was no longer for myself alone, as I laughed at a joke only I heard. The two of us were filled with merriment – whether alcohol-induced or otherwise. Countless hours were spent in a state of reckless abandon. Granted, I had a habit of accidentally getting her into trouble, but that was all part of the fun.

Naught could spoil my joy, not even Haryon, who had gone so far as to place a hand on my buttocks whilst 'searching for a knife'. I soon sent him out of the kitchens on a wild goose chase – literally, I might add – hoping that he would not return before I left to serve my duties to the prince.

All this had been with me as I grinned and walked through the corridors, taking the passage towards Legolas's chambers which would lead me past Haldir's door.

It was rather pathetic of me, certainly, but I could not seem to prevent myself from even walking past his chambers – I was attracted, and it disturbed me. Yet at the same time, the attraction also warmed my heart and helped me smile myself to sleep, instead of cry myself to sleep. On this particular night, I found myself thankful I was sober, for I needed my sharp reflexes to hide, when Haldir's door had burst open, and Kalia had swung out of the room, tears beginning to fall down her face, slamming the door behind her – but said door bounced, remaining ajar. I withdrew into shadow further, shocked.

Why was she crying? And why on earth did she reek of river water?

I smirked. I knew that Prince Legolas was sometimes in the habit of taking little dips in the lake. Perhaps Kalia had found him?

But why had she exited Haldir's room, crying? Had he punished her? That would have been awfully unfair, if he had. I frowned, and was about to move after my friend, when my Elvish ears picked up my name – being spoken in a strained and suggestive way. It was coming from behind Haldir's door.

My curiosity was heightened instantly.

Curiosity killed the wildcat, a voice in my head said.

But satisfaction brought it back, I thought, my eyes gleaming. As silently as I could, I pushed open the door that had been left slightly ajar by Kalia. I felt almost guilty for snooping, but I could claim I thought the calls were because he had gotten his foot stuck in his leggings and I was merely there to help him.

What I saw almost made me squeal.

Haldir was apparently not in bed yet, but was taking a bath in the bathing room adjacent to his sleeping quarters. I knew he had not heard my entrance, and cloaked myself in the shadows that were swallowing the room, which was becoming increasingly dark as the last rays of the light faded away. The door to the bathing room opened just a crack just as the main door was, and little wisps of steam were pouring out delicate as fairy's wings. I swallowed hard, and stepped closer. His back was partially to the door, a rare sign of vulnerability for the March Warden, and most unlike him. The upper half of his body was visible and slick with the hot mist and water he was in. What had me most disturbed was the state he was in. His hair fell down freely on his shoulders and large clumps were sticking to his face. His eyes were half closed, and in the purple-blue light his own blue eyes glittered brightly. His lips were parted slightly, and his eyebrows knitted in deep concentration. I knew that face. That was the face of a man who – I nearly gasped despite myself.

Blessed be, I thought, my jaw hanging. The Elf was…he was…and it was my name he had spoken! A grin spread over my face, and I decided that this was the perfect opportunity to tease him. I rapped my fingers on the door lightly, then I cleared my throat. "My lord?"

I felt his frustration as he was forced to stop. His shoulders stiffened, and I took a cooling breath as I saw the muscles ripple as he turned and eyed the opening in the door warily. I knew he could only see darkness, yet I still backed out of his range of vision. His voice was tense yet soft.

"Yes, Tyrael?"

"I came to see if you were in need of fresh towels," I smirked, fighting to keep my voice neutral.

"Nay, I am fine," he replied, sounding strained. I amused to see his shoulder blades tense flex with some kind of movement.

"Would you like something to drink? Anything before I leave?" I put my hand on the door knob, and it opened a crack more, punctuated by a loud groan from the hinge.

"Nay, nay, I am fine!" He said, sounding more desperate than I could have imagined. I wanted to laugh my underthings off. Poor Elf – he must have been awfully flustered.

"Perhaps you need an extra hand, March Warden? I understand that washing your back alone can be challenging." I felt my throat tighten at my offer for reasons I could not identify.

There was silence for a moment, and I actually believed he might accept my offer. But then, in a tired tone, he said, "Nay, Tyrael. That is all. Goodnight."

The gruffness of his voice hurt me. I felt the grin disappear off my face, and with as much cheer as I could muster, I chirped, "Very well. Goodnight, Haldir. I shall go now to buff the prince's wood." I heard him gasp slightly at my pun, just as I had desired – Kalia had found it the same way, except that with her, I had not meant it to be a pun – I had been oblivious to its meaning at the time.

I closed the door of the main room, and felt my heart contract. I bit my lower lip, sadness welling inside of me. I had been rejected.

How could I have been so foolish as to believe an Elf such as Haldir could like me? Flirtation was one thing, but to truly embark on the journey was another for the March Warden. I was the elleth with no depth, no connections worthy of mention, who was lewd and uncouth. Ugly, dirty, SERVANT.

Yes, that was the word. Servant. I was nothing but a simple servant, who did laundry, had my hands shoved up chicken's rears and drank like a fish. I was nothing. He didn't want me.

I pushed myself away from the door and began to walk towards the kitchens. Legolas could take care of himself, if Kalia was not with him. I took even strides, raising my chin and trying not to cry. Why was I so hurt over this?

Perhaps it was because I had rarely been rejected before. Elves of all status had watched me as I passed. I knew this. I saw their appreciative glances and warm smiles. Yet, they were toys and I would discard them like a child abandon's her new poppet mere weeks after Yule time.

And this March Warden, the only one I actually had desire to pleasure, had not wanted me.

I felt tears rising in my eyes, and held them back furiously, squaring my shoulders and clenching my jaw. With a glare, I descended the steps to the kitchens, filled with the stench of half-cooked meats and grime. Despite what most might have thought, the kitchens were not very clean – even if they were kept by Elves.

This was mainly the fault of the head chef, Swelter. Such a drunken, careless lout that I had never seen before – so vile was he that he almost put me of drinking. Almost.

I walked past unconscious form, sneering at it as I passed. Swelter had made many attempts upon me, all of which I had successfully evaded thus far. He had to be the only Elf in Middle Earth that positively reeked.

"Milady!"

I grimaced, noticing Haryon smiling at me in such an admiring way that it made me want to vomit. Not only was he rather young – too young for me – but he was not what I liked in a man.

He was not Haldir.

"What is it, Haryon?" I asked, searching for my secret storing of Lord Elrond's wine. I flinched when I noticed that I merely had half a flask left. Oh well, I shall be meeting with Rathborn tonight for training, I thought. Perhaps we shall pillage some more wine then.

"We were wondering what to do, milady. Swelter is too drunk…"

"And soon, I shall be too," I replied, downing some of the wine. "And besides – I have a break tonight. I cannot Elf-sit you. Gilaron!"

A tall Elf with eyebrows of such a shape that he always appeared perplexed glanced at me.

"I leave you in charge of the kitchens whilst Swelter is unconscious. I have business to attend to."

"Aye, Tyrael," he nodded, and Haryon glared at him for the informality.

I merely wished them a goodnight, grabbed my flask, and exited the kitchens through the cellar doors and into the cool night. I was to meet Rathborn in a private, secluded courtyard, where we would not be seen.

He was helping me train in hand-to-hand combat for the tournament. He was taking up where Orevon left off after he passed to the Halls of Mandos. Except that Rathborn, after training me, would help me get my wine. And on the odd occasions, he would pleasure me, and I would reciprocate.

Rathborn was an odd, dangerous looking Elf with dark, lowered brows not that dissimilar to Legolas's, only thicker. His eyes were a stunning violet, and his lips full. He was handsome, but a rogue. Women would only lay with him if they were sure it would not be scandal. In my case, I was already scandalous, therefore I had little to be concerned with.

I found him already at the courtyard, tossing a stone into the air and catching it casually, his large hands almost appearing graceful.

His violet eyes fell on me, and I moved forward, draining the last of the wine and dropping the flask to the floor. Rathborn watched with a predator's gaze.

"We need more wine," I drawled, approaching him.

"Nay, my dear, you need more wine," Rathborn smirked. He swung his fist and I blocked it. "Good."

We continued this way for what must have been hours – with both of us forming attacks and blocking. Eventually, I had Rathborn on the ground, and with a grin, he swept my legs out from under me, sending me to the ground as well. I groaned, shaking my head, and he rolled on top of me. "Better than normal, Tyrael dear. Perhaps something has angered you? Anger is a powerful fuel. But it can also be your downfall. You should be careful."

Then he kissed me – a powerful kiss, as his tongue nudged past my lips whilst his hands began to roam. I sighed. Perhaps I needed this – maybe this would rid these awful feelings Haldir raised within me. Nothing could rid my mind of the bitter remembrance of his steam-soaked face, nor the pang I felt knowing my name was on his lips in his moment of pleasure. Yet, he did not want me. He rejected me. So I allowed Rathborn to use my body, only this time, I gained no pleasure from it.

*

Afterwards, I simply got up silently and left. I had come to a realisation that was eating me away inside.

Laying with Rahtborn had not erased my feelings, but made them worse. I now felt guilty for allowing such promiscuity to happen. I felt as though I had cheated on Haldir – and even though I kept telling myself that he was not mine to cheat on, I could not shake the feeling. I was beginning to grow desperate, as the fading starlight was forcing me to face myself in the cruel sun.

I forgot the wine, I forgot Rathborn – I merely pulled on my gown and walked away. I walked mindlessly, holding my slippers in my hand, walking barefoot across the dewy grass, my eyes raised blearily to the sky. Never before had I bothered about being chained to one Elf and one alone. Never before had I desired one with such…feminine desire.

I clenched my jaw, and glanced down. I paused. I had reached the archery ranges, and I could see Kalia standing her slight form silhouetted in the pale pink sunlight, looking mournfully at one of the targets. I knew her deepest yearning. She could not enter the tournament no matter how she desired it.

She was still in her dirty clothing, and though I was suspicious, the look on her face was enough to force me not to comment. Then again, I too looked worse for wear, and was distinctly aware of the tracks of the tears I had shed unknowingly.

"Kalia."

She looked at me, and her eyes widened, obviously taking in my rather rumpled state, but she too said nothing.

"You desire to enter the tournament, do you not?" I continued, stepping closer to her.

Her eyes watered, and she looked back to the target. "'Tis impossible, Tyrael. I am a woman – they would never allow it."

"Not impossible, dear friend," I whispered. "I am joining the tournament for hand-to-hand combat." She gave me a startled look. "The trick is to disguise ourselves as males! It will work, I assure you."

"Males?" Kalia's eyes widened, then she snorted. "I can do so, certainly. My chest is almost nonexistent. But you!" She looked at my rather large chest.

"Aye, I know it will be a struggle, but I have a plan," I rolled my eyes at her incredulous glare. "Trust me, my dear. We can do this. We will enter the tournament in disguise."

What shall befall our dynamic duo? Want to know more? Click that friendly review button *please*.