I've tried monkeying with the formatting, seeing as how this is the one chapter that has never behaved before. Sorry if it's still wonky; I haven't the foggiest as to why.

~Lai

At some point, I awoke again to find myself wrapped in warm arms. I tried turning my head to see who held me from behind, but really, I needed no glance to say. Glorfindel's arms were the same as when he'd carried me down from the back of his horse, all those nights ago. Score one for me! I finally got my Elf snuggling! My face held a definite grin as I went back to sleep.

"Minaimîr."

The sound of my Elvish name drew me out of the worst dream I'd ever had, where I'd been hurt in a battle and had spent the entire night spilling my guts to Glorfindel…

"Wake up, tithen pen. Your sister of spirit is here to see you."

Sister of spirit? Shit! It hadn't been a dream! He knew that Fiona and I weren't actually related…oh crap! I cracked my eyes open only to close them again because sunlight was coming in through the open tent flaps and it hurt. A dull throbbing continued in my skull and the back of my neck, warning me against sitting up.

"Hey sis," Fiona chimed, coming in the open flaps and blocking out the sunlight. She was just in time to witness Glorfy brush his lips against my forehead again before slipping out. She watched him leave with one eyebrow raised, but said nothing.

"How's the neck?"

"Hurts like a bitch," I replied dryly, still feeling mighty smug from Glorfy's lips on my forehead…if only they'd been a bit lower... Ahem! Anyway, my voice was still hoarse from all that talking I did through the night. "How long have I been out?" "The battle was three days ago," Fiona replied.

"Three days?" Okay, maybe it was more than one night…did I sleep days then? I don't think I slept, but there must have been pauses…

"Yeah…Elrond wasn't sure at first that you'd escaped brain damage – well, more than you have already, anyway." She grinned and I gave a half-hearted glare. "So he told Glorfy to keep you up until he was sure. Apparently, you did that yourself – by spilling our past to Glorfindel. He didn't actually have to say anything."

So I hadn't slept then…blindfold? Temporary blindness? Why the hell had it been so dark? Still though, I blushed furiously.

"I thought I was in the dungeons of Barad-dûr! I only babbled to keep from going insane…and I thought that Glorfy was just a shadow man, a figment of my imagination. Plus, I couldn't see anything."

"I know. I've since filled Gil-galad in my half…don't worry…they would have found out sooner or later.

"So how come you're not wounded?" I asked after a moment of silence, wondering why Fiona got to be so chipper and up and about. Something was not fair about this.

"I was. Same Orc that got you nailed me with his axe, right in the side. Elrond managed to heal me. And he was none too gentle."

She drew up her shirt and I got a look at a wound that I would have gladly gone the rest of my existence without seeing. I closed my eyes – it hurt too much to turn my head.

"How'd you get out of that mess? How did I, for that matter?" I was interested to know. The last I remember of the battle was Glorfy, so close and yet so far away.

"I didn't see much, but Ereinion tells me the Glorfy got you, and fought like a madman to get to you."

I smiled and raised an eyebrow, refraining from commenting.

"But how did you get out? You didn't answer my question."

"Ereinion got me." She looked suddenly…embarrassed? What the hell? Why was her face suddenly red? I looked at her sideways.

"Gil-galad got you out?"

"Yeah, and took me to Elrond for healing. Damn," she continued, obviously happy to switch topics, "that Elf needs a better description than 'healer'. That wasn't healing that he was doing, and it hurt so much I punched his lights out."

"Go you!" Elrond needed some smartening up, although it must be known that I am very grateful for his work towards making sure I was alive. "Did you get in trouble for that?"

"Yeah, Ereinion saw me and got pissed." I nodded slightly.

"Fiona," I began slowly. "Why do you keep calling him 'Ereinion'?"

Her face flushed bright red. "Um…because that's his name?" she ventured. I knew she was hiding something.

"Fiona," I said warningly.

"Yes?" The picture of blushing innocence…

"Have you been getting some Elf action that you haven't been telling me about?"

I expected an outraged "NO!" or even a wistful 'no, unfortunately not' or…anything, really, except for an even deeper colour of red in her cheeks and her head to go down.

"You have been getting Elf action!" I yelled, sitting up quickly and ignoring the pain that caused. The squeal that I emitted right then didn't help much, but I still somehow managed to fling my arms around my blushing and giggling twin and give her a hug. "That's wonderful!" I pulled back a little. "Did he kiss you? Or did you kiss him? Or…" I stopped, my mind presenting images that I didn't necessarily want. "Did you…?"

"No!"

I grinned. "Is that because you're wounded?"

"Yes. I mean no!" She looked flustered. "We're just not…I mean…I'm not…"

"Hee hee! Has he seen the lingerie yet?"

"No!"

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

"Just checking."

I lay back down again, slowly. My head hurt really badly now but I didn't care. "Now. Details. Give."

"Well…" she began hesitantly. Thankfully, for her sake, Glorfy returned. "Is all well, Ladies?" he asked. Damn he's hot when he's concerned!

"Yes," Fiona replied. "Minaimîr and I were just chatting."

"I heard screams of pain," he said, looking back and forth between us, as though accusing us of keeping information from him.

"Those were squeals of excitement," I replied defensively. "Don't worry, Glorfy," I added. "I'm not getting too excited."

"Lady, I heard that 'squeal of excitement' from the other side of the camp," Glorfy retorted firmly, arms crossed over his muscular chest. "If you cannot remain calm during your sister's visits, I will be forced to have the High King cause them to be ceased!"

"You will do no such thing!" I said angrily, sitting up again. My outburst would have been more effective if I hadn't swayed suddenly and fallen back down onto the pile of cushions. Fiona stood (was pushed, really) out of the way as Glorfy came in for the rescue once more. He helped me back to the position I'd been lying in before.

"You must be careful, melyanna," he said chidingly. "It is bad enough that you disobey orders concerning your life. Do not carry this trend through to your health."

I stuck my tongue out at him, even though I was having a great deal of fun letting his hands roam over my arms and then down my legs as he straightened my covers and I out. He sighed exasperatedly and turned to Fiona.

"Is she always as such, Lady?" he asked.

"No," Fiona responded with a grin. "Normally she's worse."

I would have paid good money to see the look on his face right then, but he was facing away from me, and so I missed it.

Fiona stood back. "Get some rest, Minaimîr," she said.

I wondered why she was using my Elvish name, rather than my real one, and that concerned me. 'Rhiannon' is really the last link that I have to my past life, with the exception of Fiona. My parents gave me that name, and I like it. I like 'Minaimîr' too, but…damn it, 'Rhiannon' is my name.

"I'll come visit again soon."

"You do that," I replied and gave a little wave. "Tiddly boogles, yo!" Fiona raised an eyebrow and grinned before slipping out the tent door.

"Tiddly boogles?" Glorfy asked when she was gone.

"Made it up," I replied dismissively. "Don't worry 'bout it."

"Ah." I could almost see him filing that under 'analyze later' before jumping thought tracks. "I have sent for water so that you may bathe, Minaimîr."

"Sweet! Thanks, Glorfy," I said earnestly. "I'm in dire need of a bath."

"And a good scolding," Glorfy added in a mutter as he stood again. "You are foolish and reckless with other's feelings."

"What?" Where the hell had this come from? Really, I had an idea. Oh boy…enter the sap…

"I could have lost you," he said softly, without a speck of anger. "You were told to remain in the tent because you were untrained, and we do not send the untrained to battle, regardless if they want to help." He seemed more hurt than angry, and that stung me more than if he'd slapped me. Shame fisted me in the stomach. I had let him down, disobeyed…but I can make my own choices. There's always the other side of the coin. But Glorfy continued.

"You scared me more than I have ever been scared, even when I faced a Balrog of Morgoth. Do not ever do that to me again." He really does care, I realized. Despite all my forwardness, the groping of his arse, and telling him exactly what I thought of him while babbling through the night, he still… The implications of this slammed into my belly, but I pushed them away for further thought, when he wasn't around and when I'd have time to myself. I vaguely recalled that he'd made me promise this the last time I remember speaking to him.

"I'll try."

"Do more than try." It was the closest to forceful that he really ever came, at least in this. He looked down at me with twilight blue eyes that had beheld so much…pain, laughter, beauty and evil…he was so old!

Coherent thought nearly left completely, at that point. It doesn't really have a chance, when faced with the eyes of an Elf several thousand years old – and still bloody hot, I might add. He came down slowly back to my level. Stiffly, I reached up and touched his face.

"I cannot promise that I won't do anything stupid," I said. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, Glorfy, but I've tried that before. Doing stupid things that could get me killed seems to be a part of my nature that I can't shake. I didn't look when Fe and I crossed that road…if I had, we might have been able to miss the truck."

"But I would never have met you," he almost whispered. I barely heard it.

"Nor I you," I admitted. "And that is one reason why I am glad I got hit by a truck. Besides," I began, to lighten the mood, "if I ever do something that stupid again, then you can hunt me down and give me a good spanking."

His eyes widened; I grinned at him.

"Spanking?"

"Because I will be a very naughty girl," I elaborated. I don't think he got the reference because he only looked confused. I couldn't stop the giggle. "Never mind, Glorfy…it's…just never mind."

He shook his head. "You are very odd, Minaimîr," he said. "But I do not count that as ill favour."

I smiled. "Good. Because being 'odd' is a damn sight better than what passes for normal these days…or those days…or…whenever. Either way, this is a great deal more fun."

"Yes. You spoke at great length of having 'fun' through the night 'because life is something you only appreciate when you're dead', and so, therefore, fun is paramount to safety."

There was a slight smirk on his cat-like features and I rolled my eyes.

"When you die, Glorfy," I began, "you'll work that out too."

The sudden serious expression on his face startled me. I wondered what could have drawn this out. He rose suddenly, walking to the other side of the tent and not speaking, nor looking at me.

"Glorfindel?" Serious situations call for the serious use of names. Well, sometimes.

"What did I say wrong?"

"Nay, tithen pen, you have not offended me. Instead, you have chanced upon an instance in my history which I think that only you – and perhaps the Lady Anórmír – are able to truly understand." He stopped talking, and I waited, knowing – somehow – that he would tell me in his own time. "I fought a Balrog of Morgoth, many, many years ago. I shall not go into particulars, but in that battle, I died."

Oh dear.

He crossed the tent and crouched down in front of me again, looking into my eyes with those sapphire beauties of his. "I found myself in the Halls of Mandos, where the souls of the Elvish kin go to rest when we die, either from battle or broken hearts. It felt like home, and yet it was not. I was not ready, in my heart, to leave my life, although I had accepted the chance – the certainty – that I would when I fought the Balrog. There was something yet that I had to do, and I believe I have found what it was."

I blushed again and looked down. One finger under my chin brought my head up again.

"So indeed, Lady," he continued, "I believe that I understand at least some of your mind. The rest however – your way of existence prior to your apparent death, your mannerisms, why it is you are like no other…it is a mystery and one I shall enjoy solving."

Wow…I had no idea…No wonder he looked so hungry for answers all those nights ago when he interrogated me! It had confused me then, what he had been looking for, but now I knew. I suppose I would have known if I'd read anything other than The Lord of the Rings, but I had never gotten around to finishing the Silmarillion, or the Unfinished Tales, or any of the other thousands of books on Tolkien's Elves. This, I realized, was very unfortunate. At least now I could get the original versions…

"You believed yourself alone in this," I said slowly. "That you had been the only one to die in such a way and return, separated from all you'd ever known."

He smiled the fullest, most tender smile I had ever seen upon his face before lifting one hand and trailing it down my cheek. He whispered something in Elvish that I couldn't hear before rising again and slipping out, returning with a goblet and a thoughtful expression.

"When you spoke of a spanking," he began as he handed me the goblet. The sudden shift in mood confused me, and his question had me weary. Still, I put the goblet to my lips and took a sip of the water it contained. "Did you speak of a reference to the use of pain for pleasure when making love?"

I don't think I've ever spewed a drink before, but…damn it, hot Elves should not pull questions like that on you when you have liquid in your mouth! It's not nice!

"Minaimîr!" Glorfy said concernedly, coming over quickly and kneeling at my side. "Are you well?"

"Just fine, Glorfy-boy," I managed between hacking coughs. "Couldn't you have waited to ask that question until I'd finished drinking?" I wiped my mouth on the back of my sleeve and gave one last cough. "Bloody hell. That hurt." My neck had seized up during my coughing fit and I could barely move my shoulders.

"I am sorry, melyanna, for causing you more pain when you should be resting." He's so cute when apologizing! Damn it, if he ever uses that pouty face on me to get me to do something…I'll be helpless.

"Don't worry about it," I replied dismissively and put the goblet down. I sat back and winced.

Someone outside called out in Elvish, and Glorfy went to investigate. He came back in with a nameless – but hot – Elf, helping him carry a large tub and an even bigger kettle of hot water. Steam rose from the top of the kettle, and I wondered how long that water had been boiling. And how heavy that farking thing was! This is a perfect example of the strength of Elves versus Men. That kettle was cast iron and filled to the brim with water and only two Elves needed to carry it, which they did without so much as a flinch or a cringe.

Still though, muscles stood out quite nicely against the fabric of Glorfindel's tunic and I was treated to a lovely view of the sort of lean body that get women's minds all a flutter. I watched as they poured the steaming water into the tub and with a grin realized that I was going to get the luxury of actually being able to soak in the water rather than just have sponge bath. I don't think I could have moved my arms enough to give myself a bath anyway. I briefly considered the possibility of Glorfy giving me one…and then dropped the mental subject, because if I continued along that line of thought, I'd never get clean.

The unnamed hot Elf left, and Glorfy turned back to me.

"Do you need my help, Minaimîr? I know we have no female attendants to bathe you, but…"

It was a moment before I could reply. I thought my jaw was going to fall off.

"It's all right, Glorfy, I can bathe myself. Thank you, though," I added. It would be nice if you bathed me, I added in the privacy of my own head, but… Ah…dreams for later.

"Very well. I shall be in the antechamber, should you call." With a small smile – and was that disappointment? – he bowed slightly and left me to my bath.

For an instant I almost called him back to help…and realized that a few days ago, I would have. And, a few days ago, he would have run like hell rather than even suggest the possibility that I might end up naked in his presence. But now…now that I knew that he knew that I…I love him (it's getting easier to write and not feel girly and stupid. I LOVE GLORFINDEL!!!)…now that I knew that he knew…I couldn't bring myself to be so forward. I had reverted back to my old shy ways, perhaps out of fear of what he thought, or what might happen, or if he didn't feel the same.

No…he felt the same. He had to. He understood what I felt with dying and turning up here…and he said that he was glad that I had…he felt the same, only he didn't quite show it as much as I did…

Damn bloody hell! What the hell am I supposed to do now? Act normal…yeah, Rhiannon, that's it! Act like you've always been acting! Grin at the hot ones, bother Elrond as much as possible, and continue to ignore all protocol and formalities except in certain circumstances, like encountering a pissed off Gil-galad.

And speaking of Gil-galad…I should pay him a little visit. Because if he hurts Fiona in any way… Oooo…I will un-Elf him with a blunt object and leave bits for the carrion birds that were hanging around in huge flocks. No one hurts my sister. Especially kings.

When I finally got out of my clothes – a total pisser in the ass – I found that getting into the tub wasn't much of a problem. Walking stiffly to the huge tub of water, I climbed in slowly.

Ah…luxury! When I finally sat in the tub, I just let the hot water soak away all the tension in my shoulders, and the dirt from my skin. Taking a small breath, I sank down, submersing my head. I stayed there for as long as I could before needing to take another breath, and then sat up slowly.

I luxuriated until the water got cold, knowing full well that I would likely not get another bath like this one for some time. It just isn't feasible letting one person have the long, hot baths while everyone else in the camp makes do with a cloth and a bowl. It's certainly nice, but…if I had to, I would go for the sponge bath. What I really wanted, though, was a shower.

Nothing beats a hot shower.

My only problem with the bath was that I was when I went to get out; I found that I was lacking a towel. I have to wonder whether or not Glorfindel did this on purpose, but, really, given how he has always behaved around me (and the Gentleman of the Millennium Award goes to…), I think he actually just forgot.

"Ummmm…Glorfy?"

"Yes, Minaimîr?" He stuck his head through the flaps separating my portion of the tent with the one he had been waiting in. His expression was carefully neutral. I wondered if this was the water level was barely high enough to cover my breasts if I sat up straight. I would have moved, but…well, it hurt. That's it. Yeah. It hurt too much.

"Is there some sort of towel I could use?"

"Of course, Lady," he said, but his words sounded a little forced. He disappeared for a moment before returning with a large robe, quite obviously his own.

It was huge. He held it up as I got out of the tub, his head turned until I was wrapped securely within the cloth.

"Thanks, Glorfy," I said when he'd finished, turning to look up at him. He was watching me with most curious expression that contained so many emotions that I couldn't decipher it. Then again, did I really want to? I was scared of what I might do, if I thought I knew what it was that he expressed. Make a bigger ass out of myself than I had ever done, probably, only this time, I'd remember every time I looked at him and wished…

Oh, what the hell am I going to do? I've never had any sort of boyfriend before, which is part of the reason that I'm so friggin' forward most of the time. So now that there was such a strong possibility…I'm scared shitless.

Gently, he pulled my wet hair from beneath the robe and smoothed it out over my shoulders, running his fingers through and taking out some of the knots. The feeling of such fingers on your scalp is absolutely wonderful. I strongly recommend it.

"You are so small," he said, almost in wonder. "I cannot help but wish to protect you."

I kept silent, not knowing what to say. 'Put it down to genetics' wouldn't have meant anything to him and would have destroyed the moment. Ever so gently, his fingers migrated from the top of my hair and down my jaw line before moving back towards my now-pointed ears. Trembles played tag with one another up and down my spine. The ears of an Elf are extremely sensitive. Extremely. Not only just with hearing, but…holy damn… My breath caught and my eyes closed, letting the sensations take over.

"So very small," he whispered. I wanted to purr like a cat. My eyes still closed, I felt him lift my chin upward, felt his breath upon my cheek as he bent down close to…

I'm going to kill Elrond. I really am.

"Perhaps I should return later?" The High King's Herald asked. "Unless I should stay for the sake of chaperonage…" he left that sentence where it was. I think he enjoys breaking these sorts of things up and then making wisecracks about chaperones. If I hadn't been still reeling from the sensations that Glorfy had invoked, I would have said something, but I couldn't have at the time if I'd tried.

"Nay, my Lord," Glorfindel replied flatly. "Chaperonage is not needed." Apparently, he was as annoyed with Elrond as I was.

"Indeed," Elrond replied flatly. "I had come to check upon the Lady Minaimîr, although it seems that she is indeed well enough for you." Was that a grin? It had to be. His mouth kept twitching. "For her sake, I hope you know that she needs her rest."

Visions of exactly how I was going to kill him started dancing in my mind. First I was going to…and then…oooo…that could be fun…

"I am very much aware that she does, my Lord. If you do need to check upon your patient, please do so." Glorfy stepped back from me and I got the distinct impression that I was missing something without him being near. I realized, after I shivered, that it was body heat. And the other sort of heat, the type that comes from being that close to the Elf of your affection. I think you know what I mean.

Elrond had me lie down on the pile of blankets and cushions that I'd spent the last few nights in. I lay down on my stomach and one of them flipped my hair over the front of my face, so I could no longer see anything.

"You have a horrible bruise, Lady," Elrond said, pulling back my robe so that I lay before the pair of Elves, on my stomach, robe up to my waist. If I'd turned over, both of them would have been getting quite an eye full of the Twins. "It covers most of your back."

"Doesn't surprise me," I mumbled into the cushions. "Hurts like hell too."

"Yet you will live." He prodded a spot on my back and I yelped. I kicked out with one foot and landed a blow on an Elf leg. Neither of them made comment, but Elrond continued with his diagnosis. "The pain will likely continue for some many days yet. I do not recommend that you return to the battle until you have free movement of your arms once more."

"No argument here." I growled that. Partially because I had a mouth full of cushion, but mostly because Elrond's hands aren't anywhere near as gentle as they should be, for an Elf so old and experienced. Perhaps this was just his way of getting back at me for being yet another one of his patients.

"Nor here," Glorfy put in. "The Lady Minaimîr shall not return to the front lines without me at her side."

How sweet! But I didn't want to return to the front lines at all. I'd had enough of battles. Never again, if it were possibly avoidable, would I ever enter one willingly. I would have to be dragged.

"Have no worries about that," I said aloud. Well, I might go if Fiona was game…but only after I'd trained a whole farking lot more. The war was going to continue for another seven years…I had plenty of time to do something stupid.

"Indeed." Elrond said dryly. "Well," he continued as he stood, "I believe a few more day's rest shall be sufficient, and then light training to relieve the stiffness of your muscles."

I pulled the robe back up over my shoulders, made sure it was secure (didn't want to embarrass Glorfy, although…it was tempting…), and turned over slowly.

"What should I do in the mean time then? I don't know about you, but lying around with nothing to do drives me nuts."

"I have given some thought to this, and spoken with the King," Elrond replied, "and he has given me permission to have you start transcribing your story into the histories." He produced a thick, leather bound book from…somewhere about his person. You'd be surprised what Elves hide in their armour, at least the ones who are in charge of archives, anyway. An inkbottle and a pen soon followed.

"You mean the whole thing? Or just what I told Glorfy?"

"As much as you remember about your appearance here, and of these last days will be sufficient," Elrond replied. "I do believe that includes what you have told," he paused and looked with amusement at Glorfindel, "'Glorfy'."

Glorfy looked embarrassed and spoke quickly in Elvish. Elrond gave him the equivalent to a 'whatever' expression and bowed slightly.

"Lady, Glorfy," he said and then slipped out of the tent. I think the bugger was enjoying himself…maybe Fe hadn't hit him hard enough…whatever.

"You realize that this is going to be both messy and largely incoherent to anyone who doesn't read English, right?" I looked up at Glorfy as soon as Elrond had gone. "I mean, I'm not the neatest of writers even when I have lines on a page to follow."

I cracked open the book and found that a good lot of it was already filled. After a moment or two of reading, I realized that it was a word-for-word transcription of what I'd told Glorfy during the last few days. In English too. This was perfect.

"You wrote this down?"

"Aye, as you spoke."

"Bloody hell!"

"Does it not please you?" Glorfy looked suddenly worried. What the bloody hell had gotten into him? Why was he all of a sudden Mr. Manservant? It was nice…was it a by-product of what he was talking about before, the odd desire to protect me? That was certainly a viable option, and one that I liked the sounds of… Even the most independent women have a habit of wanting to be protected. Most of them just won't admit it, but…we're all mushy saps at heart.

Still, I stared at him in shock for a good moment.

"Of course I'm pleased," I eventually managed. "But…you didn't have to…" I looked down at the neat, tightly compacted writing. "How do you even know English?"

"It is the tongue of Men," Glorfy replied, puzzled. "You have been speaking it ever since you arrived."

"But…bloody hell! Are you even gleaning most of the concepts that I'm thinking about? Fark! This is…weird." I looked back down at the transcript. I could read it…it looked like the English alphabet…but… Bah. This was making my brain hurt even more. "Bloody hell," I muttered again. "Whatever."

I closed the book with a snap and put it next to the bed.

"I'll get to that in a bit," I added. Glorfy nodded.

"Good," he began, "for I have the perfect cure for your aches."

"You do?" I looked up at him, hopeful.

"It is one that Elrond can not deliver."

Wow…that was a secretive grin, if I'd ever seen one! I didn't know what it was in his eyes, but…oh boy… Why was his face getting so close? Not that I minded, but I really think I needed to brush my teeth, unless the mouths of Elves stay forever clean…

"I believe, Minaimîr," he continued, "that we were interrupted by Elrond at a moment very much like this."

Oh, sweet heaven! Sweet merciful crap! Oh my dear mother of Jebebus! HE'S KISSING ME!!!!!!

I don't know how long it lasted…hell, the world spun so much that I was very glad for the hand behind my back that helped me stay upright. After an instant or two of shock I felt silky hair under my fingers and knew I'd finally got to tangle my hands in his hair…and it was as nice as I had been imagining…

I pushed away any wonderings of 'what do I do now' and just lived the moment…holy damn…bloody, bloody hell! Here was the unlimited proof that Glorfy felt the same that I did. And, boy, was I ever enjoying this! When we finally broke apart, there were tears falling unchecked from my eyes.

With a smile on his lips (I kissed those lips just now! Me, the Boy-friend-less Wonder, had been kissed by Glorfindel! I am never ever going to forget this day!), he brushed my face, fingers going all over, as though he was memorizing each and every detail. (Hot DAMN! Hot bloody mother damn holy shit on a pogo stick!)

"You need rest, lovely one," he said gently. "Here. Let me help." Slowly, with those wonderful, fine-boned hands of his, he pulled my still-wet hair up and out of the way, helping me lie down on my stomach to keep the pressure off my back. I sighed in contentment, although it came out more as a yawn. I found, much to my surprise, that I couldn't speak. Not that I really wanted to, but…a simple thank you would have been good.

And then I nearly shot right back up again when I felt the robe being pulled down once more. I didn't dare speak, not knowing exactly what was going on and…well, I was enjoying this, despite my thudding heart, and, yes, daring to hope beyond all hope that things were going to go further than I'd previously thought. Well, had actually thought; if you've ever seen Glorfy, you'd understand. I flinched slightly when his cool hands touched my shoulders, but after a moment, I relaxed, receiving the best massage that money certainly can't buy, because no one in modern times has the hands of an Elf. Or the lips of an Elf, for that matter. Although, it must be said that despite my tendency to throw myself at anything male that moved in my vicinity, provided it was hot, I am not the best judge when it comes to comparing the lips of human men to the lips of Elvish males.

My only regret of that day is that I fell asleep shortly thereafter.