Chapter: 3
This "story" has very short chapters. So _deal_ with it. ;)
LotR is not mine. Fortunately, neither is Leggylas, or you'd all kill me. This isn't R, I guess. PG-13 would cover it. Of course, not when the "it" in question is being uncovered. But enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rafael, eighteen in human years, was rather confused, to say the least. Last night, his rider group had been patrolling Mirkwood's edge, making sure that there were no bandits sneaking around at the border between plain and forest. Bored orcs and renegade humans often tried to take advantage of the uncomfort felt by both species so near the blurring of what they each found familiar, and had to be periodically chopped into tiny pieces, with the more recognizable bits left on stakes to be found by the next wandering group of scum. His stallion (he was in front- twice now his handsome cheekbones had been scarred with evidence that _he_ often caught the first orc-arrow, and had to be patched up afterwards) had shied, and started businesslikely trotting in the direction of the forest. Rafael had reined in the beast, as he often did; he was mostly ignored, also as usual.
Delightful.
Legolas woke to the rather embarrassed whinny of his mare, who was seemingly rather happy. (A/N stallion + mare = La-la-Legolas.) She was cosying up to a rather suspicious stallion, with a rather suspiciously cute rider. He stood, knocked himself out on a treebranch, and went thud.
Rafael was close enough to see a scene of abnormal clumsiness on the part of one rather gawky elf. He wasn't sure whether he should be concerned, or just give into his impulses and laugh until his sides ached.
~*~
He came too suddenly, and was immediately aware of aware of two things. A smell of food, and a smell of woman. In order of importance, that would definitely be backwards.
In the night, interesting things had happened... albeit in a different sense than interesting nighttime things usually happen around our favorite elven handsome.
He snuggled further into the piece of femaleness whose lap his head was resting on. She laughed; he could feel the pleasant heaving wonderfully.
"Rafael, I think he's awake." The giggly voice was pleasantly husky, and he _knew_ that this would be an enjoyable ...interlude.
~end ch. 3~
This "story" has very short chapters. So _deal_ with it. ;)
LotR is not mine. Fortunately, neither is Leggylas, or you'd all kill me. This isn't R, I guess. PG-13 would cover it. Of course, not when the "it" in question is being uncovered. But enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rafael, eighteen in human years, was rather confused, to say the least. Last night, his rider group had been patrolling Mirkwood's edge, making sure that there were no bandits sneaking around at the border between plain and forest. Bored orcs and renegade humans often tried to take advantage of the uncomfort felt by both species so near the blurring of what they each found familiar, and had to be periodically chopped into tiny pieces, with the more recognizable bits left on stakes to be found by the next wandering group of scum. His stallion (he was in front- twice now his handsome cheekbones had been scarred with evidence that _he_ often caught the first orc-arrow, and had to be patched up afterwards) had shied, and started businesslikely trotting in the direction of the forest. Rafael had reined in the beast, as he often did; he was mostly ignored, also as usual.
Delightful.
Legolas woke to the rather embarrassed whinny of his mare, who was seemingly rather happy. (A/N stallion + mare = La-la-Legolas.) She was cosying up to a rather suspicious stallion, with a rather suspiciously cute rider. He stood, knocked himself out on a treebranch, and went thud.
Rafael was close enough to see a scene of abnormal clumsiness on the part of one rather gawky elf. He wasn't sure whether he should be concerned, or just give into his impulses and laugh until his sides ached.
~*~
He came too suddenly, and was immediately aware of aware of two things. A smell of food, and a smell of woman. In order of importance, that would definitely be backwards.
In the night, interesting things had happened... albeit in a different sense than interesting nighttime things usually happen around our favorite elven handsome.
He snuggled further into the piece of femaleness whose lap his head was resting on. She laughed; he could feel the pleasant heaving wonderfully.
"Rafael, I think he's awake." The giggly voice was pleasantly husky, and he _knew_ that this would be an enjoyable ...interlude.
~end ch. 3~