Once again such a wonderful outpouring of support for this story. I'm so glad you all have continued to enjoy this story and I hope you stay that way until we get to the end. I have such grand plans for the ending. :D This chappie is a little short, but the next one is going to be a doozy so I justified it in my mind... :0


Chapter 28 – Heaven's Light

When he awoke, he was confused for several moments. He was not in his bed, and there was a soft, lovely scent in his nostrils. He moved slightly and winced as nearly every part of his body cried out in protest. Then the events of the previous night flooded back to him and he grinned in a self-satisfied way.

The scent he was smelling was Cerena's hair. He was spooned behind her and her cloud of curly hair was very close to his face. Many of the curls had broken their coiled shape and were fuzzy and wild. It made Cerena look fiercely beautiful even as she slept.

She had rolled partially to her back and her breasts were moving gently as she breathed. He remembered each caress to the sensitive flesh from the night before, each mewling gasp she had given as he stroked her heated flesh. They had coupled so many times last night! Cerena had made good on her promise to 'fuck until they couldn't fuck anymore.' He ached in delightful ways and he had spent so many times he wasn't sure he had anything left inside him.

The thought of it sent blood straight to his hips, even though he winced slightly as he had to shift.

By Manwë's breath…had she clawed his buttocks off? He reached gingerly to touch his buttocks and felt the raised lines of several claw marks. Oh…he would not be sitting well today….

"Mmm…are you gonna just poke me with that all morning or use it right?" Cerena asked sleepily, turning fully so that she could look at his face.

Her eyes were bleary with sleep and hooded slightly, but her plump lips had turned up in a smile, revealing the tips of her fangs as she grinned at him. He thought he might be ashamed in the morning light, but she was just as beautiful with the beams of Anor kissing her face as she had been under the light of Ithil.

"The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak," Elrond said softly, leaning forward and nuzzling their noses together. She laughed.

"That's bullshit! There's nothing weak about you!" she said. He smiled at her, reaching forward to run the backs of his fingers over her soft cheek.

"Sing for me, melleth," he said softly. She tilted her head.

"What do you want me to sing?" she asked.

"Sing a song from your time. Sing a song of love," he said. She let her head rest against the pillow, trying to think of a song to sing.

She hadn't ever been a huge radio buff. So much of the music she did know had been from movies. Disney movies or other musicals had been her favorite. She had been rather fond of the theater in her day, thought her town had only had a small community theater. She had loved the flowery language of Shakespeare. In fact, she and Elrond were a little like Romeo and Juliet, though Eru knew she hoped they had nothing to do with the ending…. Ah ha! She knew a song that was good for them.

"In a perfect world, one we've never known, we would never need to face the world alone. They can have the world; we'll create our own. I may not be brave, or strong, or smart, but somewhere in my secret heart I know love will find a way. Anywhere I go I'm home if you are there beside me. Like dark, turning into day; somehow we'll come through now that I've found you, love will find a way," she sang, looking up into his face. Her breathing was not structured due to being on her back, but the breathy words were amazing to Elrond.

"What a perfect song. Absolutely perfect," he murmured, and Cerena got the feeling the last part wasn't talking about the song.

"So how do we act around each other, now?" Cerena asked suddenly. Elrond rolled to his back, looking up at her ceiling.

"As much as I want to sing it from the rafters, I believe for your safety we should…we should keep our relationship out of public knowledge," he said, his hand finding hers and twining their fingers.

"But will anyone be able to tell that we've…you know…?" she asked. He rolled over her suddenly, pinning her to the bed and pressing their foreheads together.

"That we made love all night? That I twisted you like wire and made you cry my name ever so sweetly?" he said lowly, his voice like deep velvet. Cerena arched an eyebrow.

"That I poked my finger in an unexpected place and made you come so hard you saw stars?" she teased. Elrond's face lit up with embarrassment at the memory.

"I didn't know such sensation was physically possible," he mumbled.

Eventually they crawled out of bed, each gathering their clothes and beginning to dress slowly. Cerena grinned smugly when she saw Elrond's bottom.

"Oooh, your pretty pale skin is so lovely with my claw marks all over," she grinned. He gave a grimace and rubbed the skin tenderly, before pulling on his pants and tying them sturdily.

"You should not be so cruel to me," he pouted half-heartedly.

"Do you want me to suck the sadness away?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows at him. He paused, looking down his nose at her with a haughty expression on his face.

"Maybe later," he sniffed. She rolled her eyes. When they were dressed he stood with her in front of her door, holding her close to him as they said their goodbyes for the day.

"When can we do this again?" Cerena asked softly, letting her ear rest against his chest so that she could listen to the soft thumping of his heart.

"We should not tempt discovery by doing this too often, but neither do I wish to sleep cold and alone, either. We shall just take it one night at a time," he said, and kissed the crown of her head.

"I love you, Elrond. I love you very much," she said.

"Amin mela lle," he whispered.

Then he gave her a gentle parting kiss on the lips and left her room. It was still rather early and most elves were not leaving their rooms just yet, but he did see a few of them. He got a few curious glances due to his casual dress, but it was not enough for them to quit their jobs.

They were unable to spend another night together for several nights, and by the time they were able to meet, they all but ripped each other's clothes off in their desperate frenzy. They were sure that no one knew, although Gil-Galad and Oropher were giving them funny looks when they were sure no one was watching.

Cerena found the whole thing to be an adventure. During the day she had started working with one of the seamstresses. She started at the bottom of the available jobs doing patching, until the seamstress approved of her stitch-work and she was moved up to odd jobs. But during the night she and Elrond tried to find alone time. Sometimes they were unable to, and for a few nights Cerena did not mind. It added to the pleasure. It made her anticipation so high that she would get off on almost a whisper from Elrond.


He had been so happy these past couple weeks. Arwen had commented several times that he looked as though he had seen the sun for the first time in many years. Elrond took Arwen and Edledhia on a picnic lunch, staying gone well into the afternoon before they returned. They were all soaking wet and laughing, and a giggling Arwen had explained to Cerena that while she and Edledhia had tended the fire and set up the area, Elrond had gone fishing for the meat for their lunch. Being a little out of practice he had lost his rod and tried to retrieve it, tripping and falling into the water. Arwen and Edledhia had heard the commotion and come to investigate, but were nearly prostrate from laughing, at least until Elrond had pulled them both in with him.

Cerena did not begrudge Elrond the day with his daughter. In fact she had found it incredibly sweet, and told him that night just before another marathon session of love making. Elrond enjoyed the feel of Cerena in his arms as she slept. He loved the warmth of her dark skin on his, the contrast between the colors of their flesh was arousing to him. He did not find her sharp claws disgusting. He did not find her fangs off-putting. Her eyes were the color of fresh daffodils, bright and expressive.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Cerena murmured sleepily as she rested against him, relishing the feel of his arms around her.

"How beautiful you are," Elrond replied honestly. Cerena snorted softly.

"You're senile, you old elf," she replied.

"So I might be. I've been alive an awfully long time," he replied easily.

"But you're not the oldest. If you're already daft at your age, what does that make Lady Galadriel?" Cerena asked. Elrond let out a surprised laugh.

"She's actually rather lucid when she's not raging drunk. And that does not happen often. The Noldor tend to be a bit more reserved in their merry-making. The Sindar, however, drink wine like water and you only meet a sober one about half the time," Elrond replied. Cerena found the thought of an uproariously drunk Galadriel hilarious.

"Celeborn must have some patience," Cerena remarked. Elrond snorted.

"Don't let him fool you. He got drunk at my and Celebrían's wedding and fell off of a balcony trying to prevent us from retiring from the reception. He had a scar on his shoulder for the longest time," Elrond laughed. Cerena giggled helplessly.

"I didn't know such important elves could be so funny," she said finally, running her hand idly over the scar on his pectoral.

"We are all just elves. They were young and carefree, once, too. Sometimes it's just easy for elves who have been alive a long time to remember what it's like to be young. We grow up and grow set in our ways, gaining knowledge and wisdom, putting away the things of our youth until we no longer remember them. It's sad, in a way," Elrond said.

"Wow…that's deep," Cerena said softly.

"Cerena?" Elrond inquired. She made a soft noise of acknowledgement. "Will you promise me something?" he asked. She lifted her head, resting her chin on his chest. "Do not leave me, Cerena. Everyone has left me. My parents, my brother, the mother of my children….I would break if you left me too," he said.

"There are very few things in this world that would cause me to leave you, Elrond. I cannot promise that death will not take me, but if it does not I will fight tooth and nail to stay here with you," she said. She wrapped her arms around him and he held her tightly.

They fell asleep like that, desperately holding onto each other.


"Did you know there's no word for love in the Black Speech?" Cerena asked conversationally as she worked on a sewing project. The elleth that was sitting next to her paused for a moment in her work before she continued to patch a tunic.

"I'm not surprised," she said blandly.

"The closest thing you can say is that you do not hate someone," Cerena added.

"How barbaric," the elleth replied. Cerena frowned, looking back down at the apron she was mending.

"I think it's sad. I was lucky to have been found by Gandalf and brought here. I was lucky to have found the High Orcs, who know love. I was lucky to be rescued from my torment and brought back here. I found friends," she said. The elleth finally stood from where she was working, gathering her materials and glaring at Cerena.

"I don't care, yrch. I care not about anything in your wretched life. You deserve none of the hospitality Lord Elrond has offered you. You deserve naught but a blade to your throat. At worst you look like a beast of Mordor, a whore of Morgoth. At best you look like one of those dirty dark-skins from the South!" the she-elf hissed. Cerena gasped, her dark brows drawing together before she stood up as well. But she had no chance to say anything before the elf's work was ripped from her hands by the head seamstress and she was given a sound slap across her face.

"I have heard enough of your intolerance and bigotry, Ithiliel. Get out, and do not report back here again. I do not need your negativity here!" the other elleth snapped. Ithiliel turned a hateful glare at Cerena, her pretty blue eyes filling with angry tears before she stomped out. The seamstress, Eluhiril, then looked at Cerena.

"You do good work, orc. I don't know what it is that Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen see in you, but they are not stupid, nor is Mithrandir. As long as you do good work here I have no quarrel with you," she said. Then she looked at the piece of cloth Ithiliel had been embroidering. "I don't suppose you can embroider?" she asked. Cerena have a shy smile.

"Actually I can…" she said.

"That sparrow brain did the outline, all you need to do is add some detail. You'll be paid according to your work," Eluhiril said, handing her the bundle of fabric. And just like that Cerena became one of Rivendell's embroiderers. Her style was a little different than some of the others, but it was not ugly or bad, and the elves found that it was pleasing to their eyes and began to emulate it somewhat.

Cerena just giggled to herself to know that some of the ellyth of Imladris were now wearing dresses embroidered with orc-style designs.


He awoke with a gasp, tears streaming from his eyes as a cold sweat poured down his face. He threw back the covers and stood from the bed, trailing his bed sheet around his waist to protect his modesty. For several long minutes he thought he would be sick, and could only breathe deeply to calm his rolling stomach. He was alone this night, but he wasn't sure that it was a good thing or a bad thing. A sob tore itself from his throat, raw and choked as he stumbled for the door to his balcony.

He threw open the door and gasped raggedly in the cooling air.

"Atar, Atar, why would they show me that?" he gasped. He collapsed onto his sheet on the balcony, burying his head in his hands and sobbing raggedly. He found it ironically apropos that his father's star was hidden behind thick clouds. A rumble of thunder hid the sound of his raw emotion as he wept. "What do you want from me? Have I not sacrificed enough? I have asked so little in this life…so little asked and so much taken…why, Atar?"

He had been given a vision that had utterly shattered him.

The room where she was being treated was far from anyone else. No one wanted an orc so close to the vulnerable wounded warriors. He tugged at his hair when he heard a wail of agony.

"Why is this taking so long?" he could see himself as if through a mirror, pacing desperately and wringing his hands.

"These things take time, cousin," Gil-Galad tried to sooth.

"I want to be with her!" dream-Elrond said.

"The midwives of Gondor are a superstitious lot. They believe that the father will bring ill spirits with him if he enters the birthing room," Oropher sneered, his opinion of that practice clear on his face as he dealt a hand of cards to Gil-Galad. A young child sat nearby, face pale as he stared out from behind the fringe of a cloud of silky black curls. He was chewing nervously on his fingers, bright amber eyes watching the adults.

Finally a midwife entered the room where they waited. Her apron was stained with black blood that could only be Cerena's. She was a sallow, serious woman with the bearing of a hawk.

"The babes are born," she said. Elrond rushed past her, ignoring her exclamation of his impropriety. He rushed into the room, stopping short at the door and skidding to a halt. There was another midwife cleaning the bloody sheets from under Cerena's body. Cerena was collapsed against the pale sheets, her brown face ashen and streaked with drying sweat. Her eyes were closed, and she was unmoving…

"Why is she so still?" Elrond asked. He could hear the wailing of the twins as they were cleaned and swaddled nearby, but still Cerena did not move.

"Birthing a child is hard on anyone. Birthing twins is worse. She lost so much blood, my Lord," the midwife tried, reaching out to touch the hem of his sleeve. But her hands were still covered in Cerena's blood. He wrenched his hand back as if burned.

"But she will be all right?" He did not want to approach her. He looked away from her to the midwife.

"My Lord…" the midwife tried again.

"You must be strong for the children, now…"

Here the vision ended and he had awoken from his nightmare. But it was no dream. What a thing to hold in front of him! How he would love to have little ones again, to hear the laughter of children in the halls of Imladris… But to do so would take the only one he would want to have them with. If he got Cerena pregnant she would die.

What to do? There were herbs that could prevent pregnancy, but were they even effective against an orc? He knew there were many remedies of the like that mortal women used, but they were ineffective to ellyth because they chose the time when their body began the process to conceive.

"Why do you torment me so?" he asked, looking up into the sky. A raindrop splattered on his forehead, cold and lifeless as Cerena's face in his vision. He stood quickly and leaned over the balcony, sicking up what he had eaten for supper into the bushes below.

He would not let this happen! Cerena deserved to live. She deserved to be happy. She did not deserve such a bloody death…not for his selfishness. He gathered his sheet and retreated back into his room as the sky gave way. It was with grim clarity that he knew what he needed to do. It would ruin his chance at a happy ending with Cerena, but if it meant she lived a long and happy life he would suffer for all of eternity.

He implemented the first part of his plan the next day. His attentions to Cerena stopped abruptly. He did not seek her out, nor did he give her many opportunities to seek him. Several times she came to him amorously, and each time he had to gather his resolve and rebuff her. After the third time she became upset.

"What's wrong with you? I'm basically throwing myself at you and you're not so much as batting an eyelash," Cerena growled in frustration, lacing the front of her tunic back into place. It was not true that he was not reacting. He was stiff as a board but he had shifted his body into a position that it was not obvious.

"I'm just not in the mood right now," Elrond said, turning back to his paperwork.

"You haven't been in the mood for nearly two weeks! What happened?" Cerena exclaimed.

"I have neglected too many of my duties lately. Perhaps later," he said dismissively. He heard her growl lowly before she stomped out. When she had shut the door he dropped his quill, sitting back in his chair to try and relieve the aching pressure she had caused between his legs. Perhaps he should just…

"…She lost so much blood, my Lord…"

"I'm sorry for the temporary pain, Cerena," Elrond said softly, burying his face in his hands.

It was nearly a week before she tried again. This time she did not get much farther than dropping to her knees and trying to run her hands up his thighs before he grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet.

"Elrond…what is it? Why do you keep shutting me out? Did something happen? Have I done something wrong…?" she asked, her voice so pitiful that he nearly wept at the sound.

"Cerena….we need to talk…"


Elrond, don't you do anything stupid, now! Who am I kidding, he's about to f**k up. *Shakes head*

Canonically Galadriel was not a raging party drunk, and Celeborn didn't fall off balconies so far as I know. Also Elrond wasn't porking an Orc so there's that... :| Anyway...we're about to hit another arc, so to speak...*Crosses fingers*

Well you've read the chapter, I would love if you have me a favorite or follow, but I would ADORE it if you gave me a review! :3