The eighteenth of twenty-five comment!fics I wrote for the Twelfth Round of the IJ Porn Battle. The only one of them for Lord of the Rings and definitely the first one I wrote for this pairing - probably the last, as well, but I won't swear to that. Then I'd be lying for sure - my muse loves to prove me wrong like that.


Èowyn swung down from her horse's back, still inwardly seething at her brother's almost imperious command for her to stay close to Edoras - as if she wasn't capable of looking after herself! She shoved her fingers through her thick, tangled hair, sighing. It wasn't as though she had planned to go outside of the territories patrolled regularly by the Eoreds.

She looked over at the forest - and it wasn't like the Golden Wood was dangerous. Except for the 'great sorceress' said to live there, but she lived deep in-

Èowyn froze, catching sight of- No. No, surely there wasn't a woman in the forest - just her mind, tired and frustrated, playing tricks with her sight. Still, she tightened the grip of her hand around the hilt of her sword. Just to reassure herself.

Just as she was beginning to relax again, she saw the woman again - an ethereal-seeming creature, swathed in lightly floating white, with her golden hair flowing in elegant waves around her- pointy ears.

Èowyn gasped, her eyes going wide. An elf! Wait… Maybe… Maybe she was the- Èowyn looked around wildly, but the elf was gone - she shouldn't have been able to disappear so swiftly, not in those clothes, but . . . well, she was an elf; who knew what sort of tricks she could be capable of?

Èowyn knew she should feel relieved that the elf had gone without coming any closer, but a part of her mourned for the excitement, the possible adventure lost. She sighed, relaxing her hand on her sword, and turned back to stroke her mount's shoulder - the poor gelding had picked up on her stress and was shifting nervously beside her.

"Hello, Èowyn, daughter of Meduseld." said a smooth, honeyed voice. It sent shivers down her spine even as she spun, wary and alert, looking for the source.

There was no one in view, and the action prompted a laugh that lit images in her mind; of the sun rising after a light rain, when the whole world looked golden and soft-edged, reminded her of the pure feel of the air, then, so clear and refreshing.

Èowyn's eyes slipped closed of their own accord, and when she opened them again the elf was standing before her, smiling softly. Èowyn tried to back away, but found herself effectively frozen where she stood. Amazingly, though, she was not actually frightened of this creature, as terrifying as her sudden appearances and disappearance might be.

"Very wise, young edain. You need not have any fear of me, Èowyn, nor of any of my people." that wonderful voice sang to her again. Èowyn noticed, though only vaguely, that the woman's lips did not move as she spoke. Her voice was . . . was only inside Èowyn's head.

"What- What are you, Lady?" Èowyn managed, her voice a little shaky, though she was still not afraid.

"I am of the Eldar, warrior edain. My name is Galadriel." That voice again, but this time it was truly spoken, and this time it sent a different and strange warmth through her belly.

"…Galadriel…" Èowyn murmured. Galadriel's blue eyes - so much brighter and clearer, more beautiful than any Èowyn had seen - widened and then focused more intently.

"You surprise me, Èowyn…" Galadriel's whispery voice seemed to slip around her like a physical thing. Èowyn blushed at the thought that this elegant elf-woman knew what she was feeling. Galadriel made a quiet, soothing sound, stepping forward. "You need not feel embarrassed, edain…" she calmed, raising a hand to stroke Èowyn's cheek.

Èowyn's eyes fluttered shut, and she stepped forwards, leaning into the touch. "I feel…"

Galadriel's laugh rang out, sounding like bells. "I know what you feel." she spoke deliberately, her light fingers tracing down Èowyn's face and neck until they reached the neckline of the fine cotton dress - Èowyn had not really planned for this ride.

Galadriel turned her hand, tugging the dress softly. "May I?" she asked.

Èowyn nodded, breathless.

Galadriel found and released the clasps of the dress swiftly and easily, and Èowyn stood there nude and somehow unashamed.

Èowyn reached to return the favour, but Galadriel's clothes were strange. After a moment, she did it herself, and her silky curves put Èowyn's slimly muscled form to shame.

Èowyn stroked the pale skin, eyes intent on Galadriel as her smile widened. She returned the caresses and encouraged Èowyn to lie back on the soft elf-cloak.


The original prompt was 'Lord of the Rings, Èowyn/Galadriel, strange' - I didn't expect to write it, but it snagged me and demanded to be written... Who am I to say no, right?