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For those of you who might not have been lurking around the reviews and comments section of fanfiction.net when this story was originally posted, there is a bit of history between our dear Prance and Miss Patricia. You see, when the question was broached about who could possibly take care of Prance if something ever happened to me, our little vixen arranged to purchase one of those "take a number" ticket dispensers, and then proceeded to snag the very first ticket before putting it out for everyone else to share. In other words, Patty holds the Number One Ticket to the Prance. Legolas seemed quite pleased with this....

Sorry, luvs.





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Chapter Twenty-one



She was wearing a matching set of satin lime green panties and a satin lime green bra with the lime green garter belt, and lace-topped thigh-high stockings the exact same color as her own flesh. No wonder he hadn’t figured that one out.

Legolas decided that if there was one thing that he loved more than auto electrical systems and damsels in distress and girls who gave good directions and beautiful ladies who laughed with the sound of tinkling little silver bells and strappy evening sandals, it would have to be matching satin lime green lingerie complete with a garter belt and lacy thigh-high stockings.

But only on HER.

Overcome with speechlessness, he decided the best way to show his supreme gratification at her thoughtfulness in buying something that could possibly make an elf this happy was through the generous application of his tongue to any and all parts of her that she would consent to allow him to worship herewith. And so it was that he began by placing a tender kiss to the exact center of her exquisite forehead.

Not long after he began, he had to pause momentarily as she used her silk-covered feet to push his trousers down over his round bottom, down his muscular thighs, and over his calves and feet. Damn but the feel of her sliding over his skin was incredible.

It was not until later, much later in fact, when she absentmindedly reached down with both hands and caressed the points of his elven ears between the pads of her thumbs and first two fingers that he came crashing back to his senses. He jerked his head up so hard and fast from kissing the pale skin of her inner thighs it was a good thing the roof on the convertible was still down. He really would have been seeing stars if the car had been a hardtop.

“I em soerrie!” he blurted, scrambling away from her as he all but fell climbing over the side of the car in his haste to get out. He started pacing toward the hood only to turn suddenly and march back to the trunk, repeating the trail over and over again as he mumbled to himself under his breath and ran his long fingers through his hair, tangling it.

“Legolas!” he scolded himself in Elvish. “Mani naa vys umien?”

“What?” she questioned, as she grabbed her dress to cover herself and then clambered up and sat on the top of the backseat, totally confused. “What’s wrong?”

“I kinnot biend wid u!” he exclaimed, still pacing wildly.

“Why do we have to ‘bind’?” she asked, throwing her arms up in frustration. “Why not just one time, just for this one night?”

“I kinnot! I em proemissd tu anuthr!”

Her heart fell at that. “But Tolkien never said you married.... You went with Gimli to....” She stopped, horrified at her error.

He stared at her for a moment in complete shock.

“You don’t know that yet...,” she whispered, regretful.

“U noe abot me?” he gulped.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Whut iz ur naem?” he asked.

She glared at him. Suddenly he realized she had hoped he could at least remember her name; after all, he was standing there before her naked save for his Calvin Klein underwear and his dark gray socks.

Sensing her change in demeanor as she fumbled with her dress, trying to slip it back on over her head, he asked, "Due u hav a coempuder?"

"Of course!” she growled as her head popped through the neckline. Now she probably thought he wanted to borrow her internet services.

"Whut iz ur naem.... Oen da coempuder, whut due dey caell u?"

“PuterPatty. I’m known as PuterPatty.”

His knees all but buckled out from under him as he knelt swiftly to the ground before her, bowing his fair head.

“Lissi Elbereth,” he gasped. “Da Proemissd Won!”

And that’s when it happened.





Mani naa vys umien?: What are you doing?

Lissi Elbereth: Quenyan. Sweet Star-Queen



On to Chapter Twenty-two
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