The intruder pinned both Faramir's hands above his head while leaning forward so his lips brushed against Faramir's ear when he spoke.
"I told you I always get what I want."
The words were familiar having been spoken less than a day before. Faramir was then flipped over, facing the intruder who, was as he had guessed, Glorfindel. Faramir was not amused. He smiled back without humor, eyes glitering in the half-light of the tent.
"Yes, indeed you did, Lord Glorfindel. But I wonder, in the end, do you always want what you get?"
Faramir saw the shadow of doubt pass over the older Elf's eyes as he worked that one out. So what he had heard about the legendary warrior was true. He was strong, brave, and somewhat of a cad, but not as quick on the uptake or at hiding his thoughts as, perhaps, a Ranger's training might require. And Faramir was a master of that game.
"Very well," Faramir sighed, apparently relenting. "I'm sure I cannot fight you so I may as well give in. But let the record show I resisted."
Glorfindel smirked down at him before letting go of Faramir's wrists to remove the interfering articles of clothing. Faramir appeared to be just coming out of his moment of shock and began to thrash around - a tricky feat in so small a space. In the process he caught Glorfindel in the stomach with his foot. The warrior exhaled a sharp grunt of surprise.
And Faramir was upon him in that instant, sitting upon his chest with knees pinning his arms up and against the ground, shin bones finding the nerve points that left Glorfindel's arms tingling and useless. One hand held a tiny but effective dagger at Glorfindel's throat while the other wrapped around his meaty neck so that Faramir's thumb and middle finger could incapacitate the nerves that might allow Glorfindel the use of his legs or lower torso. Within seconds, the tiny Gondorian had rendered the mighty hero paralyzed.
"Now, Glorfindel, now that we may talk like more civilized folks -- like the allies were are, even -- let us examine the situation. You are a master warrior, several times my superior in weight, strength and skill. You have used these qualities to try to take advantage of me. To force your pleasures -- hardly an honorable move to many eyes.
"I, on the other hand, am small, but not weak. I possess my own skills and an understanding of how and when to best use them. I am not given to impulsive action. This being the case, I might sit here for many hours considering what to do with you and whether and when to release you from the hold of paralysis. This may prove embarrassing for you.
"I could also decide that it is indeed my turn to press my advantage. After all, topping Glorfindel only counts for something if I make good use of you in the process. And I would love to hear you scream..."
Faramir trailed one hand roughly down the elf's neck and torso to illustrate his meaning, pausing to pinch Glorfindel's nipples and ending with a firm and tight hand on his sex. Glorfindel clenched his teeth to avoid reacting - a motion that did not escape Faramir's keen vision.
"Instead," the young Ranger continued, "I propose a deal. I will release you from this hold and you will leave this tent immediately, and not bother me again in this way. Alternately, you can stay as you are and I will use your body as I see fit.
"What say you to your options, Balrog-slayer?"
What happens next?
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