Actions

Work Header

The Lady and the Tramp

Summary:

The lady of Lothlórien meets an odd, but rather charming scoundrel who makes music like nothing she has heard before. There is also Dorwinion.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

The lady Galadriel was not prone to dramatics. She prided herself on her ability to stay calm in most situations, which, she had to admit, had not always been the case. But with age comes a certain ability to control oneself, and she was, after all, older than the sun and the moon.

But this was an oddity, and the lady did not like those very much. The fact that this mortal had simply appeared in the middle of her realm, without being spotted by the wardens and challenged and captured was unheard of. That he was standing right in front of her, a broad grin on his face, arms crossed and feet firmly planted on the ground in a clear display of confidence was – galling, to say the least.

”Who are you, and how did you get past the border guards?” she demanded, and let loose the full power of her gaze on the smirking man. His deep brown eyes widened as she bored in with all the strength in her ancient mind.

Galadriel reeled when she made contact with his mind. There was something almost alien about his mindset, but she sifted through the strange phenomena that represented parts of his life and went straight for the core: was he a threat to Lothlórien?

Wow, she’s really a smasher that one! Tall, damn, taller than most guys I know... but I sure as hell wouldn’t mind a piece of that. I bet she’s a real demon in the sack!

Galadriel gasped and tore her gaze away from the mortal in front of her. To her utter mortification, she was blushing furiously. How dare he? And why couldn’t she get the truth out of him? She needed to know how he got in to Caras Galadon, and what his purpose was. She gritted her teeth and dove in again.

Mmm, I like that long hair... I bet it would feel real nice to wrap it around my hand and pull it some while I pound into her. I bet she’d like that. Wonder if she’s a screamer or a whimperer? I bet she could make some real good noise... hey, that would make a nice song, I needta write that down.

If Galadriel had been blushing before, she had now turned a rather fetching shade of puce. What was this about writing something down? The rest of his thoughts were easy enough to decipher, even with his rather strange mindset it was clear he found her attractive. It was also clear he wouldn’t hesitate to try to proposition her. Galadriel had perfect recall like all elves, but she was hard put to remember the last time anyone had been this openly attracted to her. Most people were too intimidated by her power to find her sexually attractive.

And... she would also lie if she claimed she wasn’t flattered. Yes, this was a mortal man and as such not really interesting to an elleth, but his open admiration and yes, lust, was not distasteful or offensive. Rather the opposite. Galadriel pursed her lips, studying the man closely. Nice shoulders and upper arms, curly shoulder length hair that was as dark as his eyes, a muscular chest and narrow waist... she pulled herself up and flushed a bright red. The man grinned broadly and took a step forward. The wardens who had brought him in stopped him with a hand on each shoulder.

”Oi! What’s this then? They your boyfriends? Sorry boys, didn’t mean to be poaching, but I gotta say this is one fine-looking lady!”

”Watch your language mortal, this is the lady of Lothlórien you’re addressing!” the younger of the two galadhrim snapped. Galadriel made a placating gesture and both wardens stepped back two paces.

”What is your purpose here young one?” She caught his gaze once more.

”Young? I’m thirty-three years old, that’s practically ancient! And you’re one to talk about youth, you can’t be more than twenty-five yourself!”

Galadriel couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. The wardens on each side of the mortal fidgeted, throwing uneasy looks at the normally reserved lady. The man flashed her a pleased grin and took a step towards her again. This time, the guards made no move to stop him. The stern look Galadriel threw at them might have had something to do with that.

"Follow me." With that, she swept off towards her private talan, stopping to give some quick orders on the way. She climbed the swaying stairs gracefully, and the man hesitated just a moment before following her with considerably less grace.

Inside the talan, a couple of ellith swiftly laid a table, filling bowls with fruits and berries, pouring wine into two goblets of hammered silver, and setting out a basket full of steaming loaves of bread and a plate with butter and cheese and some silverware. When they were finished, they bowed respectfully and left.

”Come, sit, eat.” Galadriel didn’t believe in unnecessary chatter.

She handed her guest a goblet of wine and gestured towards the food.

”Please. You are hungry.”

”Don’t you mean Are you hungry?” he smirked.

”I have no need to ask. I know what you are thinking right now.”

The man stared at her for a few moments, then raised the goblet to his lips and gulped down a mouthful of wine, immediately choking on it, spluttering and coughing.

”What’s this? I thought it was wine, but this is as strong as whisky, or stronger!” He wiped the spilled wine from his chin and tried to wipe off his shirt as well.

”Here, let me help.” Galadriel took a linen napkin and dabbed at his chest, trying very hard not to laugh. He fidgeted, clearly unsettled, and tried to squirm away from her hands.

”Are you trying to get me drunk? Because let me tell you lady, there’s no need. If you’re willing, I’m definitely game.”

”The wine is Dorwinion, I managed to buy a batch right from under Thranduil’s nose. It’s a very potent wine, and your kind is more susceptible to it than mine.” Galadriel said, taking a careful sip.

”Your kind? You’re a woman, I’m a man. Is this wine something that women have a better head for?”

”You are indeed a man”, here Galadriel threw him a sultry look that no one in Lothlórien would have recognised, not even Celeborn. ”I, however, am not a woman. I am an elleth. A female elf.”

”You’re... an elf?” The man studied her silently for a few moments, then started to giggle. Galadriel’s mouth thinned and she rose to her feet, glaring at him, and then caught his eyes, her gaze boring into his.

I am who and what I say I am, mortal man. I have lived through several Ages, I saw the first moonrise and the first sunset, and I have fought creatures you would not believe are real, but they are, and so am I!

He staggered to his feet, trying to get away from her, but she kept her eyes locked on his and refused to relent, and he seemed to be frozen in his place.

Yes, I can see what is in your mind. Do you not think of anything but music, drinking and – that?

He guffawed.

”You look like a fashion model, you sound posher than the Queen and you say you’re older than dirt, but you can’t even say the word ’sex’? What are you, a thousand-year-old virgin?”

Galadriel raised an eyebrow in true Elrond style.

”I am not... a thousand years old. Nor am I a virgin, quaint human concept that it is. The rest of your words sound like gibberish to me. What is a fashion model?”

”Well...”, he smirked and sat down again, grabbing the goblet and taking a hefty gulp. ”I’m sure I can explain all those words to you, beautiful, but why don’t we have another drink first? I’m a rock’n’roll singer, you know, I could sing you something. I write songs with my bandmates. You’d make anyone start writing songs.” He broke off, took another sip of the wine, then started singing:

”Can I sit next to you girl, can I sit next to you...” He grinned at Galadriel. ”That’s not one of my songs, my bandmates wrote that one, but it fit, so... cheers, lovely lady!”

 

*****

 

Much later that night, lord Celeborn returned home to Caras Galadon from an expedition to Mirkwood. He was amazed to hear raucous laughter and bursts of song from his wife’s talan as he climbed the stairs to greet her. Upon entering, he found Galadriel seated on a heap of cushions on the floor in the company of a short, dark-haired mortal. There were several empty wineskins on the floor next to them.

”What is going on here?”

Galadriel turned her head and smiled lazily, waving the goblet in her hand and splashing wine all over the cushions.

”Husband! This is Ronald, although everyone calls him Bon! He’s from Aw-stra-lya, and he writes songs and sings them for a living! And we might have run out of Dorwinion.”

Notes:

I love AC/DC, and I love-love-love Bon Scott. He died too young, and I wanted to see what a meeting between him and Galadriel would be like.