“That,” Pippin replied, “Was my pillow! And you are the one who destroyed it.”

Merry glared at Pippin, though his irritation about the ruined pillow was already waning. He never could stay mad at Pip for long. He did notice that Angelica and Sam had disappeared, however, and it made his heart strangely heavy. It occurred to him that he had developed a possessive streak over Angelica...not for himself, but on behalf of Pippin. Something had changed during the trip from Rivendell to Lothlorien. Merry wasn’t sure how to put it into words.

Feathers filled the small chamber beneath the tree, and Gimli and Frodo were coughing and choking on them, though Merry suspected this had to do with their laughter as much as anything else. Pippin glared at him, breathing heavily, still clearly all worked up over the pillow. It stirred Merry. He grinned at Pippin.

“You need a good spanking,” he said.

Merry relished the look of terror that came at once over Pippin’s features.

“No, I don’t,” he said. He lifted his chin, jutting it out. “I think maybe you need a good spanking.”

“Really.” Merry got up and started moving slowly towards Pippin, who backed up against the tree.

“I think you both need a good spanking,” Gimli said.

“Frodo -- spank him!” Pippin said, pointing at Merry.

“Don’t get me involved!” said Frodo, putting his hands up.

Merry leapt at Pippin, tackling him around the waist. Pippin shrieked and struggled, but Merry had always been stronger than him. He held down his cousin and brought the flat of his hand down on the round curve of Pippin’s behind. The smack resounded in the room, and Pippin fell still. So did Gimli and Frodo, who stared at him with rounded eyes. Merry spanked Pippin again, and this time Pippin moaned and wriggled in his arms.

“Merry, that hurts,” he whined.

“You don’t deserve any less,” Merry said sanctimoniously, but he was teasing. He gave Pippin a few more smacks for good measure. Pippin wriggled again, and Merry could tell he was enjoying this more than he let on.

“Please,” Pippin gasped, “Please let me up...”

“When I’m ready...”

***

Early in the morning, Ciendriel walked slowly down the stairs from Galadriel’s chamber. Carefully she carried a cup of the healing herbal tea for Legolas. She had realized when she woke up that he might still need it, and Galadriel had showed her how to prepare it before sending her on her way with a kiss, telling her to think on the command she had been sent from her mother.

Ciendriel had nodded. She was thinking on it, had been all night.

“Do not act in haste, Ciendriel,” Galadriel had said softly. “That will be your downfall. You must remember to consider both sides of a leaf before deciding which is the top. You may find Legolas at the bathing pool this morning. Send Haldir to me when you see him, if you will.”

She hoped she would not. She was afraid to look on Haldir at the moment. Afraid she might actually consider the foolish proposition of marrying him. After all, it was out of the question, even if it was her mother’s desire, wasn’t it? Ciendriel was in love with Legolas! Legolas!

And Legolas... well, surely he cared for her, that much was obvious. Even if he hadn’t returned her words of affection. And had accused her of harboring tender feelings for Haldir.

She frowned.

No matter, Legolas aside, certainly Haldir did not want to marry her any more than she did, him. She knew Galadriel could command him to do it, but would he obey? What would happen to him if he did not? Would they be forced together into an unhappy union that would last all of their immortal lives?

She thought of the image of the two of them, surrounded by children, smiling and happy, that she had seen in Galadriel’s water bowl...then shook her head to clear it. How could such a thing be possible?

Ciendriel at last reached the bottom of the stairs. She followed the path to the waterfall, hoping that at last she might find Legolas alone, in privacy. Halfway down the path, she paused. A cloak that she was nearly certain belonged to Haldir was hung on a branch. No, surely he was not there. The last thing she needed right now was to be treated to the sight of his glorious naked body.

Glorious? She shook her head. Maybe she still needed this tea.

Suddenly she had a worse thought. What if Haldir and Legolas were at the pool together? Jealousy and anger surged through her. That would be just Haldir’s sort of trick. She hurried forwards and rounded the bend to the pool.

“You have a stick caught in your hair,” she heard Haldir say scornfully. “Hold still while I take it out.”

“Don’t pull so hard,” Legolas grumbled.

They were indeed in the pool together, the rest of their clothes scattered on the ground beside it. For a moment she stood staring at them, looking over Legolas for signs that he had been abused by Haldir. He seemed unbruised. They were waist deep in the pool beside the waterfall, Haldir behind Legolas, who had his head bent down and his eyes closed as Haldir removed a stick from his hair with seeming patience.

The Marchwarden looked up and grinned at her. He did not take his hands off of the Prince of Mirkwood.

“Good morning, Princess,” he said in a jovial tone. “You look lovely. Am I mistaken or does that dress belong to Lady Galadriel?”

“Yes, she loaned it to me...” Ciendriel said. Her clothes had disappeared mysteriously during the night though she was certain that no one had entered the chamber. She decided not to mention this to Haldir.

Legolas looked up at her words, his blue eyes round. He jumped immediately away from Haldir. Was it just her, or did he look guilty? She looked from one to the other of them, and couldn’t decide.

“It flatters you,” Haldir went on about the dress. Ciendriel wished he would stop staring at her.

“Galadriel wishes to speak with you,” she said dismissively.

Haldir raised an eyebrow. “Very well. I believe I am well enough bathed.”

He waded out of the water and Ciendriel could not help watching. He moved slowly and without haste as he dressed. He knew she was watching and smiled at her, but she did not say anything and schooled her expression to one of dispassion. Finally he sauntered back up the path and she returned her gaze to Legolas. He looked tired and sad.

Shyness overtook her. “I brought you something,” she said at last. “This should have been sent for you last night. It will clear up the remainder of the green smoke. Forgive me for not bringing it sooner.”

Ciendriel held out the tea cup and saw her fingers were shaking. Legolas climbed out of the water and took the cup from her, drinking it quickly and making a face against the bitter taste of the herbs.

“Thank you,” he said hoarsely.

“It will make you feel better,” she said, stating the obvious.

“I suppose you are going to say I look awful.”

“No...you look...beautiful.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “Tired, perhaps. Did you not rest last night?”

“Very little. You look radiant. I trust your meeting with Galadriel...” he trailed off, shook his head.

“It went well. What is it?”

“Just something Haldir said to me.”

“Yes?” She didn’t like how cryptic he was being. She could see something was bothering him. The tea was bringing color back into his cheeks, however, saving him from looking so pale and wan. He toyed with the tea cup, which he still held. She was trying to ignore the fact that he was naked. This was next to impossible, as her eyes kept straying.

“Nothing, never mind. Kiss me.”

Legolas wrapped his arms around her and she heard the tea cup clatter to the ground and he brought his mouth to hers. It was warm and sweet and urgent, and heat flooded her at the taste of him.

“Why were you bathing with Haldir?” she said, sounding more jealous than she meant to when the kiss broke.

“Because I was in need of a bath, and so was he...” he looked at her steadily, his eyebrows drawing together. “Does this bother you, Ciendriel?”

She blushed. “I just worried that he...hurt you.”

“He did not.”

Her hand slid down to his naked behind. He made a small noise in the back of his throat. She smiled at him.

“I am glad.”

“He was very gentle with me,” Legolas said.

Ciendriel froze. She lifted her hand and brought it down hard on his rear. The smack resounded through the clearing.

“What did you do that for?” Legolas cried.

“You deserved it.” She smacked him again. He pushed her away but she grabbed his arm. “How could you?”

“How...could I what?” Legolas was breathing heavily. She pulled him back towards her and threw her arm around his waist to hold him still while she aimed for his rear end again. She could see the red shape of her hand print on his flesh. Desire flooded her.

“Make love with Haldir...”

She spanked him again.

“Ciendriel--”

Again.

“Ciendriel!”

She stopped, rubbing his derriere. He pushed it back against her hand and bowed his head. His breath came in sharp gasps and glancing down she noted that the Mortamoris no longer held any trace of an effect on him.

“You like this.”

“I didn’t sleep with Haldir. I was teasing. We bathed together. He kissed me. I told him no. And this time...he did not take me by force.”

She was glad to hear it, embarrassed to admit her mistake. “You like this, what I’m doing to you.” She smacked his behind again.

“Haldir thinks you slept with Galadriel.”

“That’s not the same thing.” She let go of Legolas and he turned around to face her, looking wounded. “I could not say no to her. She is queen here.”

“I said no to Elrond, in Rivendell,” Legolas said quietly.

“I... I am sorry, Legolas.”

She was horrified. Her tryst with Galadriel had been completely innocent. Did he not understand that being with a female was nothing like the brute act of being loved by a male? Perhaps the ways of her people were different than his. She could not explain it to him. Legolas shook his head, then he smiled. Immediately she felt better.

“Perhaps,” he said, “It is you who should have had the spanking.”

“Only if you catch me!”

She turned and ran.

***

Angelica and Sam walked back into the sleeping area beneath the roots of Galadriel’s tree to find Pippin rubbing his backside and glaring at Merry.

“That was uncalled for.”

“Oh, I think it was called for. You are a very naughty Hobbit, Perregrin Took,” Merry said.

“Ah, but here is the naughtiest Hobbit of all,” said Gimli, looking at Angelica.

Angelica grinned. “Indeed, I am the naughtiest Hobbit of all.”

“You had best watch what you are saying,” Frodo warned her with a grin.

“Do you know what happens to naughty Hobbits around here?” said Gimli, leering at her.

“No,” Angelica said breathlessly. “What?”

“Oh, you’re not going to--” Sam said, stepping in front of her protectively.

“I think we should,” Merry said, winking at Pippin.

“He’s going to spank you,” Pippin said frankly, warning her. “If I were you, I’d run.”

Angelica didn’t run, or have any inclination to. She did move closer to Sam, however. She looked at his hands. They were big and strong, as he was a gardener. A shiver ran through her. She looked over at Merry, trying to look frightened, but she failed. She licked her lips.

“I probably deserve it,” she said.