A/N: Mm...four weeks. Ooops. Life has not been fun. That is my reasoning! And the fact that I am suffering from writer's block and I keep getting distracted by stuff. Anywho! It's all good 'cause I'm updating. :D
As always thanks to everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it more ways than most people can imagine! I love you all!
Review Responses:
Mellon: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF. Try saying it so many times in your head and it just becomes word gibberish. I need a chapter like that ALL THE TIME. Cause...I don't know. We will just have to find out! Thranduil and Tauriel have not yet told me if their secret will come out. :P Well, my dear, I hope you like this chapter as I wrote what you requested. I hope its up to your standard and you enjoy how I did it. Please let me know! Mucho love!
Guest: No dun cry!
ViolaPearl: I want a guy to give me the stars! Q_Q I believe that a relationship never stops developing because no matter how long you are with someone, you will never know everything there is to know about them. Such is the trait of being unique! Hahaha. Well if you want to officially request a sex scene between T and T I will see what I can arrange. :P
LoveFoodHateFat: Yeeeaaaaah. Hate it when that happens. Unless your computer starts bugging out too then you are SO SCREWED. Muahaha! Despicable Me reference. Love it! Shit is gonna get more sad. Just a warning! Thranduil and Legolas need to pay my bedroom a visit...together! Thanks, dearie. Mucho love!
SpottedIvy: Yeah, early update. Wish I could do those all the time! Braig and Jigar were taking a holiday. For four weeks. For apparently no reason...ahem. Fluffiness is the number one thing. Every story has to have it! Or people like us suffer from fluffy-deprivation. And he makes a small, but meaningful appearance in dis chapter. So many questions. So many answers to come! Even I don't know whats gonna happen! Thanks, dearie.
Laura: Hiiii! Oh don't worry. Marina will kick some serious ass in the battle to come, assuming she doesn't die. And Legolas doesn't die. And Nina doesn't die. *And just babbles on about killing all the characters off*
Guest: Thank you very much! Hope you continue to enjoy it.
HogwartsDwarfKat: Thanks, dearie!
Blueoceanandfire: Really? I feel as though my romance scenes are repetitive and so very predictable. Or maybe its just me dissing my own work. Who knows. Thank you nonetheless. But...but...what if I wanna kill dems all? D: Surely you wouldn't deprive me of my enjoyment? Yeah I was a bit sceptical about a T and T ship myself but it just seems as though they are working in harmony so I'm letting it flow as long as they play nice together. OMGAWD. SO DO I. There will be plenty more Daddy Legolas moments. Don't you worry! Yeah, I think I'm mildly scared too. Never know what these characters are gonna do. Thanks, dearie!
Jessie: You know I think I'm gonna have to make a vote for this T and T ship to see how many people actually want to see them get it on. :P Hahaha. I love you too! Sorry about the long wait. Thanks, dearie!
Babyphoenixprime: Now that would be a very sneaky thing for her to do, with the right motive. We shall have to see! Thanks, dearie!
SNOstorm: I don't? Huh. That's a switch. I disappoint myself in trying to draw all the time. XD Yeah I didn't see them coming either. They kinda went...POOF...and appeared! Aragorn, my shinning Gondorian King, where the hell art thou so I may kick thou ass for not showing up for so many chapters?! Thanks, dearie!
Teddy Bear 007: VERY LAZY BEAR.
Hikari Uzumaki-Inuzuka: I feel that way 70% of the time. As I keep telling you people, don't deprive me of my character deaths! Nyyyaaaa! Yeah Thranduil and Tauriel just kinda sprung that one on me...not really sure where it came from but as long as they place nice I have no problem. Sometimes I forget they are not real myself...and then I find them hiding out in my closest working on the next chapter. Da little rats! Ah, don't worry. When the Haldir x OC and Thorin x OC come up you'll be so sick of me! Thank you so much, my dearie. Your praise is wonderful to hear and I hope you continue to enjoy the rest of this rollercoaster ride. :3
XxBlazestormxX: *hands on hips* Where the HELL have you been? You could have at least called! Hehehe. Smut...nom nom nom. No it doesn't make you perverted cause its normal. But if its not normal then we are both perverted so no biggie! No I wont forgive you. EVER. NEVER EVER NEVER EVER! Yeah you're forgiven provided you draw me some fanart. Bahahaha. Blowjob, eh? If you really want that to be included I'll do it for you. :P Ooooh you'll like the scene in this chapter between the two of them. Well that is the hope but let me tell you, I've met my fair share of nice people that are awesome right up until they get laid. Then BOOM. Goodbye nice person and hello asshat! Yeah, its odd to think of a story ending when I have cultivated and nurtured it for two years. Yeah me too...still got to put my thinking cap on. I wasn't exactly joking...more like a long term idea. :P Oh come on, a mouth filter? That's a cheap blow. :P I like to think my brain just works faster than my mouth...hopefully. Thanks, Blazey. Good to hear from you as always. Mucho love! 3
MaxRideandPercyJackon4ever: Ok. SHORTEN YOUR NAME ASAP. :P
WARNING: Please read A/N notes at end.
Oh and also. For the 1000th reviewer *squeals* I will offer a special one-shot offer. Any pairing. Anything. And I do mean anything. If you want that, that is. Otherwise its free for the taking!
Drums hammered, encouraging the foe into an uncontrollable state of mind, the rhythm urging their movements and ferocity in battle.
Elves fell in a startling number beneath the onslaught.
Dirt churned into blood, running in thick rivulets beneath the feet of all.
Legolas turned full circle, eyes wide and horrified as one by one his friends fell.
Gimli was the first with an axe embedded in his skull. The dwarf's own axe.
"Gimli!" Legolas cried in agony, rushing to his friend's side before a stumbling body hit him in the side and they both tumbled into the dirt and blood.
The Prince lifted himself off the ground, his blood running cold to find Thranduil bent at an odd angle, his spine clearly broken from the offending ogre across the field of swords, enemies and allies. A strangled sound became trapped inside Legolas's chest, unable to tear his eyes away from his fallen father. Invisible hands clenched around his heart, squeezing and tugging as if it were being pulled out of his chest.
A crack and a thundering rhythm, beating in sync alerted him to what lay pulsing in his hand. Legolas cried out in horror to find his bleeding, pulsating heart in the palm of his hand, coated in blood and dripping down his skin like a thick, oily substance. Terrified, the elf tried to slip his heart back inside his chest cavity only to find he was held immobile by some transparent force, his head turning completely on its own accord to find Jazorg striding through masses of burning, charred bodies. Glimpses of faces flashed across his eyes; Gimli, his father, Galadriel, Haldir. Warg heads were planted on spears. Braig and Jigar were arranged like trophies above the rest; massive in size with tendrils of flesh hanging from their butchered heads. Little Caelu and Cheza's bodies were impaled on their parents razor sharp teeth, a pool of blood gathering beneath them.
"What's that you were saying about defeating me, elf?" Jazorg's hissing tone turned Legolas's attention back to him, to find the Conjurer lifting something to eye level. Black locks were curled around the crude, elongated fingers, nails digging into the scalp.
It was a severed head.
A spine-curdling scream of horror and despair escaped from Legolas's mouth as Jazorg lifted the head just a little higher so the features could be seen.
It was Marina.
The elf's fingers clamped about his own heart against his control, contorting and slowing down its rhythm. Legolas did not let his eyes abandon his decapitated wife as he too passed into painful oblivion.
"Legolas, baby! Legolas, it's ok! I'm here! Damn it, you're scaring me. SNAP OUT OF IT." A shrill voice yelled at him.
Legolas came back to consciousness with soft, firm hands pushing valiantly against his bare shoulders, rising as he breathed hard and fast. Sweat poured down his brow, stinging his eyes as he blinked rapidly to clear them. A figure slithered into focus, midnight hair draping elegantly over creamy shoulders, luminescent in the light of the moon. Grey eyes swirling with concern and panic filled his vision.
She was not decapitated.
Gimli had not been butchered with his own axe.
The King of Mirkwood had not been twisted beyond all recognition.
"Can you hear me? Love, look at me. Legolas, talk to me!" Marina begged him only to squeak in surprise as his arms suddenly locked forcefully around her, caging her securely against his chest.
She was alive!
And the most heart-clenching, soul-shattering sound broke the air. Legolas sobbed quietly against her, trembling with his heart racing terribly fast against her naked skin. Marina made a distressed noise in the back of her throat and calmly stroked his tangled locks, hopelessly confused and absolutely terrified for him. There she had been, tangled in her husband's arms when he had suddenly flung himself away from her, murmuring and sweating profusely. No matter how many times she had shook him he would not wake. And then he had cried out.
Marina remained silent, her heart aching with pain on Legolas's behalf as he trembled and breathed hard against her. It was not the first time she had ever had to hold someone during a night terror. Timothy had suffered from them for a long time, and had always sought her out in the middle of the night to crawl under her sheets. Drilling a person for details was not wise; it was always best to let them explain on their own terms and no sooner. So the young woman did not push her husband to spill his guts.
No matter how old you were, there was nothing shameful about being rattled by any bad dream. A nightmare was one thing; bearable and in most cases, did not completely impress upon a person's consciousness. A night terror, however, was an entirely different story. There was no way Legolas had anything but such a thing. The question was, what exactly had it been about?
Nina was screaming her little lungs out in the back of the mortal's mind, and the motherly instinct to comfort her child tugged at her heart. Whereas the natural urge to comfort her mate rose up and combated the confliction. Marina bit her lip and closed her eyes resolutely. Legolas was in a worse state than Nina - once she assured herself that he was fine then she could quiet Nina.
But after just a few seconds of listening to the baby scream, Marina's resolve shattered.
"Legolas, I've got to calm Nina down." Marina soothed gently, beginning to inch out of his hold when his arms tightened, resistant about her body. Her heart ached all the more, desperately wishing to understand what had upset her mate but also wishing to comfort their screaming daughter.
"No...no...he'll...he'll..." Legolas murmured incoherently against the skin of her shoulder, clinging to her for dear life.
Frustrated, worried and downright sick of noise, Marina shoved against him pointedly. Not that it really did much. It was like trying to push against a brick wall. He was immovable and clearly did not want to let her go. As to what he was muttering about, she hadn't a clue. Never had Legolas reacted to something in his sleep - well not enough to wake her up in any case!
"Love, I need to get Nina. I'll come right be ok? But you need to let me go."
Slowly yet assuredly, Legolas's arms gradually untwined from her form; the realisation that their daughter was crying finally seeped into his terror-stricken mind, and Marina quickly escaped lest he try to grab her again. Even if she was concerned for him, quelling Nina's cries was a higher priority. A glance over her shoulder as she made her way over to the crib found him sitting up, eyes hollow and fear stricken. It sent a chill through her heart. What could have done that to him?
Nina was squalling and wriggling insistently in her crib as Marina leaned over the side.
Within the elegantly carved cot made especially for the Princess squirmed the said baby. A very indignant, very agitated baby at having been woken up from a peaceful sleep. By her father of all people but it wasn't as though she knew that. Still, Marina found it spilling out of her mouth to reassure her daughter.
"Ssshhh. It's all right, Nina." Tenderly securing the child within her arms, Marina lifted Nina up to her chest, resting the tiny baby against her shoulder. "Daddy didn't mean to wake you." Rubbing her fingers gently down her daughter, who was still crying blue murder at being woken so abruptly, Marina began to hum. They had learned in the first few hours of meeting their daughter that the baby calmed from soothing vibrations in her parents' chests. And so that's what the mortal did now, wincing as Nina screamed and squirmed. But it eventually worked. Ten minutes passed until Nina finally slipped back into peaceful oblivion.
Marina sighed in relief and carefully lowered her daughter back into the silk sheets, making sure she was warm and comfortable before turning to view the bed. In the time it had taken to soothe Nina, Legolas had regained his composure and was now sitting rigidly on the edge.
Sweat lined the contours of his strong shoulders, matting into the confines of his hair. Marina could hardly see him due to the darkness of the room, the only light provided was the glimmering moon through the veiled glass of the doors. His profile was impossible to see. Sighing through her nose Marina traced across the room, mindful of the scattered clothing and her husband's discarded weapons. The sheets were warm under her hands as she crept onto the bed, encountering Legolas's strong back, immobile where he sat.
Wrapping her arms around him and snuggling against his bare skin, Marina plastered herself against him, a reminder that she was here for him. Skimming her lips across his shoulder blade, she brushed his matted hair aside to press a gentle kiss to the side of his neck. Only then did he respond with a sharp intake of breath, his fingers securing her wrists against his chest. It wasn't a restraint as such but for his own comfort to assure she was not going to disappear.
"Tell me." Marina murmured against his ear, rubbing her cheek against his damp skin.
Seeming to gain his bearings on the situation, Marina patiently waited for him, soothingly running her fingers along the rippled muscles of his abdomen, gaining as much comfort in the action as he was. Nightmares were a plague to any mind; no matter the age, race or gender. And for one such as Legolas, Marina was beginning to understand that such trivial problems would take a greater toll on someone who did not suffer from them often.
Like now.
Even with just the slightest pressure against his skin the woman could clearly feel the muscles tensed from stress. Whether that was due to the dream or the labour of the past couple of days was irrelevant. Wriggling back to give herself room Marina inched her hands out from under his, not breaking the contact by running her fingers along his skin, glancing over his pectorals and then unto his shoulders, reassuring him that she was not going anywhere.
Nursing had only done so much with muscle relaxation. After all, that wasn't their prerogative in terms of patient care. Though they had had options to take courses in order to learn, the young woman hadn't opted for it. And now she was seriously regretting deciding to not go. Even one lesson could have been convenient knowledge.
Massage techniques were a foreign language to Marina so she just went with the general knowledge: find a kink and work it out. So that's exactly what she did. Using the tips of her fingers Marina dug them firmly into the knotted muscle of Legolas's shoulders, inwardly blooming with feminine pride as another low moan escaped his mouth. There was something oddly arousing about touching a male even in a non-sexual sense; it made her feel powerful. Controlled. And feeling all that muscle move and tighten beneath one's fingers was intoxicating.
Although people did say you could quite easily injure someone from massaging the incorrect pressure points, using the wrong angle or fingers, Marina didn't believe that would apply to Legolas. It was hard enough trying to soothe the muscles let alone actually harming them! And the fact that he was a very strong, elven warrior. Sore muscles was not something that plagued him...if it even could.
"What...what are you - ah, doing!" Legolas hissed between his teeth.
"This is called a massage in my world. Helps relieve stress and all that jazz." Marina responded flippantly, kneading the knotted muscles of his shoulders with firm purpose. Even her toned attempt at nonchalance didn't stem the anxious nerves scurrying about her heart. "I'm not hurting you am I?"
A particularly hard knot of muscle between his shoulders blades became victim to her persistence. Legolas flinched before relaxing, his hair moving as he shook his head.
"No, mil-nin. You could -ah! Never...hurt me. It feels good."
Human policies, habits and mannerisms would always be a wonder to the Prince of Mirkwood. No matter how many thousands of years (and he intended for it to be much longer than that) passed, he would never fully comprehend Marina's human traits. Understand her as his wife and lover? Of course. Stare at her stupidly when she said something he didn't understand? Definitely. This 'massage' was another concept that Legolas did not understand but greatly appreciated it. All thought pattern and inklings were sucked away with the strength of her fingers, hitting all the pressure points and knots he had never known he had. It was an exquisite sensation; a mix of relaxation and subtle stimulation. When she gave him the opportunity Legolas was very eager to return the favour. Many times had his fingers mapped every curve and natural incline of her body. But not like this. This took patience. Time.
And apparently time had slipped away for he suddenly found himself blinking through half-lidded eyes, staring up at the ceiling before his eyes swivelled to the smug yet concerned woman resting by his side, curled up within the sheets as she watched him. Had he not been sitting up when this had started? His entire back thrummed pleasantly, relieved of tension, encouraging the majority of his body to replicate the feeling and temporarily mask the strain in other areas.
"You fell asleep." Marina murmured, her own eyes half closed from tiredness. "Not for long. 'Bout five minutes or so. I didn't want to break you from your catnap."
Immediately ensnaring her smaller body with his arms, Legolas held her closer than should be physically possible. Thus was the strength of their bond. It was so much deeper than the skin; it was set in their bones. Touch was a comfort for both of them, allowing their souls to meld together just by presence alone.
"Catnap? Are you mocking me?" He teased her softly, lacking the joy he would normally draw from it. The dream had left stains on his heart and mind, robbing him of his normal mannerism even though she was held captive within his embrace.
"Maybe." Marina mused, blinking through the dark in an attempt to see him better though she only caught glimpses of his profile. Reaching up to thread her fingers through the abnormal tangles in his hair, she felt a smile tug at her lips as he unconsciously leaned into her touch. "Or maybe it was nice to see you just...relax."
"I thank you for it. Where did you learn this...massage?"
Marina shrugged, a small nonchalant movement of her shoulders. "I didn't really learn. I just did it. You find a tight muscle and you try to un-tighten it. I was worried I would hurt you - it can be detrimental if you don't do it right."
Chuckling beneath his breath, Legolas nuzzled her forearm. "Tonight I will let you sleep but tomorrow after we train...may I...try to give you one?"
Pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist, Legolas watched the vibrant glow of red dust across her cheeks. He didn't believe it possible that he would ever get tired of seeing her blush. It was so beautiful and humbling to witness knowing that he had caused it. Such was an elf's perfection, Legolas could clearly see her in the dark, the array colours and shadows similar to that of late afternoon instead of in the midst of night. Clarity and sharp vision allowed him to see the minute quicken of the pulse at her throat; the way she inhaled quickly as his fingers trailed over her cheek. Eru, she was beautiful.
Marina blinked rapidly, trying to withstand the insistent blush. "Erm...I...er...sure? I mean, you don't have to-"
"I want to." He purred softly.
With a soft, barely audible exhale of anticipation, Marina just nodded. Though trying not to imagine those strong fingers kneading all the sore, tight muscles in her body was becoming a might difficult.
"B-but that means I also want to give you a full body one - massage, that is." Marina stammered, inwardly kicking herself for sounding like such a little girl. Exploring Legolas's body properly for an indefinite amount of time is what she could have done had he not fallen asleep! Just the thought of working out the tension in every muscle he had was enough to make her feel tingly, and make her blush like all hell.
Smirking like a cat with a bowl of milk, Legolas winked at her. "Deal." A more sombre expression overtook his mirth. "And I'm sorry for disturbing-"
Snap went the embarrassment.
The feminine palm whacked over his mouth obstinately, mirroring the flash of irritation gracing her features as she glared at him, all pretence of a blush wiped clean off. "No way. Don't you dare apologise for something like that. There is no reason to."
Legolas clasped her wrist, teasing the centre of her hand with a quickly press of his lips as he said. "I disturbed your sleep and made you worry needlessly. Despite whether or not it is necessary I am still sorry, for your health and Nina's is my top priority."
Most speeches such as that would have women falling over their feet in acceptance. To hear a man so selflessly preach that the safety and care of his family care before his own. That was the accepted standard in decent society but not all men kept to that ideal way of life. Some were just too pig-headed and selfish. Though it made her heart flutter, Marina smothered it, refusing to be won over by his attempt to placate her.
"No." She quipped, tugging her arm away from his persuasive mouth. "You are your top priority. Your health is just as important, Legolas."
Legolas sighed heavily and buried his face into the curve of her shoulder, his voice muffled as he said, "You must always argue."
"Wouldn't be me if I didn't." She countered, eager to move away from the subject of who-came-first before she smacked him for being stubborn. "So, tell me what you dreamt about."
Cautiously, Legolas raised his head, their faces inches apart so that she could see him quite clearly. There was raw fear in the depths of his swirling eyes; his brow drawn in what she now identified as stress and puzzlement. It was very subtle - someone who didn't know him wouldn't pick up on it at all. Yet Marina did, and it worried her more than his initial outcry.
"I dreamt that Jazorg killed everyone."
Short. Blunt. To the point.
Legolas's explanation in a nutshell.
Je-sus.
Stumped was not the reaction one would see very often, if ever, from the young mortal woman. Blank for a moment or two; perhaps even gawk at something that baffled her. But this? This was out of character. As if frozen, nothing moved save her heart that continued to climb furiously, beating like a drum against her ribcage. Muscle, blood, sinew - everything in her body seized up like a string drawn tight.
Legolas cupped her face worriedly, not used to seeing her so very speechless. Not that the dream didn't bother him. On the contrary it downright frightened him. But he did not believe that it would come about. And even if it did (which it won't, as far as he was concerned) it would not occur in such a way. War was many things but complex, and arranging trophies in the midst of battle, it was not.
The Sight was a rare gift amongst elves. Only Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel had such power to reveal the future or to gain an insight as to what might happen. That being said, Legolas knew that his dream was simply that. A dream. He did not possess the Sight. And he certainly was not a seer; one who could glimpse possibilities in the world of sleep.
After convincing himself that it was a dream, now he had to do the same for Marina for she still lay still as stone against him. Blood pulsing rapidly through her skin told him what he needed to know without even listening to her heart. From where they touched throughout the length of their bodies, Legolas could feel her fear. He could taste it on his tongue as her scent wafted heavily around him. Mixed with his own fading scent, it was enough to bring his wariness back to the forefront, and all the more persistent to calm her before everything spiralled out of control.
Until the woman almost gave him a premature heart attack as she burst into soft laughter. Quiet enough so as not to wake Nina yet loud enough to make a point. Laughter was the music of the soul. But considering the situation at hand Legolas wasn't so sure it was a good thing that she was making light of it. It was confusing, for though the merriment slipped from her lips the tension in her body was a direct contradiction to what he was hearing. Cautiously sweeping his thumbs across her cheekbones, Legolas drew her focus like a moth to flame.
"Why are you laughing, Marina?"
Legolas felt his stomach plummet as tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. Never had he really been associated with hysterics but he had a sickening feeling that that is exactly what he was witnessing. Either his revelation had been too much, the stress of an impending battle had grown too great or something else he had yet to see was occurring. Either way, his heart ached, responding to her suffering.
Marina was giddy and had for lack of a better word, lost the plot. Obviously it had something to do with Legolas waking up in the middle of the night with a night terror, and the fact that Nina had started screaming blue murder because of it. Yet the prime cause seemed to be the niggles of impending doom now floating about her mind like a nasty parasite. The Prince's short and abrupt explanation of his dream certainly didn't help matters.
Laughing was always a better cause than screaming but she could clearly see through her blurry vision that Legolas was distressed. And despite the small hiccups that escaped her, she did her best to reassure him. "It's just...I often wondered." Swallowing hard to try and regain some composure and calm herself, she continued on slowly. "Whether you could...you know...tell the future. Because...umm...elves seem to have that...ability." Because mentioning Tolkien right now would be a really bad idea. "And it was just funny...because...now you're...just...you're just...perfect.
"Not that you weren't perfect...before but...all my suspicions have been proved...accurate that you could do, well...everything and I-" Marina knew she was babbling, having lowered her gaze to stare at the muscular curve of his shoulder as she spoke. Blue, blue eyes were drilling into her; she could feel it. How could she tell him about Tolkien? That the supposed Prince of Mirkwood was actually a fictional character created as 'the perfect man' for all screaming fan girls? She could not. Yet, there didn't seem to be an opportunity to say anything else for he had covered her mouth with a gentle kiss that instantly soothed her frazzled nerves.
Muscles that were previously tensed surrendered into a relaxed state, her fingers that had previously been gripping into the confines of his hair now slackened and became numb extensions of her arms. Marina could feel her heart slowing down as she responded to him, releasing a startled gasp as his teeth sank into her bottom lip, and she acquiesced to his request. Nothing was half-arsed in this relationship. When they opened to each other, they opened everything. Thought, touch, feelings. The whole enchilada.
Eventually the mind-melting kiss drew to a reluctant stop. Legolas leaned up to avoid her questing mouth with a tiny smirk. "Stop your silly babbling. I am not perfect. I do not have the Sight. It was a dream, Marina. And I will not let it come to reality."
Heart thundering in her ears, Marina desperately tried to pull him back down to her to no avail. Damn his strength. "Oh and here I thought I had the perfect husband. What a pity."
Legolas pinned her suddenly with his weight, his naked skin setting an unquenchable fire against her own. "I may not be a perfect elf, but I am the perfect husband. Only for you. Always for you."
And he proceeded to show her just how perfect he was long into the night, and into the rising dawn.
So much for getting rest!
"Hopscotch?" Gimli echoed glancing at Marina with a raised brow.
Is it a type of ale?
Braig was unquestionably drooling at the idea there might be another type of alcohol that she hadn't sampled (more like devoured) within Mirkwood. The cellar was damn near dry from the warg's seemingly unquenchable thirst for sweet drinks. Concealing the barrels in boxes had become the elves preferred method to hide it from her because although they did not partake in drinking all the time it was still theirs! Jigar, however, didn't share his mate's love of alcohol. Once he had tried it and it had tasted like something unmentionable.
"No its a game!" Marina laughed at Braig's brazen enthusiasm, followed by the crestfallen expression of hopscotch not being a liquid, and shook her head, watching the great beast with a loving gleam etched into her soft features.
Love, close your mouth. You're setting a bad example for the little ones. Jigar chided Braig from where he sat keeping watch over his precious pups who, at four days old, were already venturing into their limbs and trying to go on an adventure when they couldn't even see or walk properly! Cheza wasn't so bad but Caelu being the male had taken to being a little bit of a pest. Not only was he the loudest of the two pups, bigger and stronger but he also loved to cause as much trouble for his parents as possible. And for a pup that could not see or walk properly, was saying a lot.
Even now Caelu had ignored his father's warning growl and had crawled out through the length of grass, invisible to bystanders and passers alike until he got just behind a pair of duelling elves and sent them sprawling into the dirt as they manoeuvred through their paces. Though warg pups could not speak until roughly two weeks of age, they could still understand what their parents said and absorbed information through their teachings. An elf or sharp-ear was considered a delicacy to eat but given the nature of their current status, they were simply fun to annoy. And even without sight or the ability to move properly, Caelu had taken full advantage of his small size.
A tiny, triumphant howl escaped the little warg's mouth as he crowed his victory.
Caelu! Braig and Jigar barked simultaneously.
Legolas and Haldir, who had been the unfortunate victims of Caelu's ploy, sighed in sync, both of them gaining their feet. It had not been the first time since they had started training that Caelu had decided to be a pest. And not just to them either. There were multitudes of elves training within the grounds currently, all having been subjected to a young warg's amusement. And they didn't really appreciate it. Given the unknown arrival of Jazorg's army, there was no certainty as to when the foul Conjurer may attack so they strived to be ready at any given notice. Some elves had long forgone their casual attire to wearing armour about the city.
Which wasn't a completely bad idea when one thought about it considering what was at stake. Those who wore armour all the time weren't overly bothered by it but some who were used to the luxury of lighter, more comfortable clothing weren't too happy about having to change and lug kilos of excess weight around. Some being Gimli. Being amongst elves too much had caused him to develop a fondness for the soft tunics he had been wearing. Now he was back in his armour; itchy, heavy and it stank of old blood. The dwarf had been grumbling and complaining the last few days, so Marina had decided to introduce him to the human game of 'hopscotch'.
But at the moment, the primary focus was on little Caelu being seized by the scruff of his neck by his gargantuan father. Jigar would never hurt his pups, but for one who didn't know the nature of the warg, an onlooker might believe that the scarred warg was hurting his son in the way he held him. Caelu was still small and could almost completely fit in his father's mouth, barely visible amongst the sea of black fur. Though Jigar did not use his teeth, instead using his lips to hold the little pup.
How many times must I tell you not to bother the sharp-ears? Jigar thundered at his young son as he stepped away from the elves to return Caelu to the bundle of grass where his sister resided.
Plonking the little warg down by Cheza, Jigar glared down at his son.
And of course, such was the nature of any child that had been told off, Caelu started to cry. Though he could not see his father, he could still smell, hear and get a jist of emotion progress through their internal link. Imagine a puppy left on its own while its owners left for a few hours; the sound it makes when it calls and realises no one is coming to keep it company. And then magnify it by hundreds. When a warg pup cried, it meant business. It meant to be heard. It meant to be coddled. And it certainly demanded attention. The sound in itself was heart-wrenching for a bystander who was not a warg. For Braig and Jigar however, it was very similar to that of a human baby squalling when it got punished for something it wasn't supposed to do. And it didn't stop.
Eyes all across the grounds were drawn in irritation to the tiny, bawling pup.
Braig snarled defensively as a group of elves drifted over to see what the fuss was about and immediately retreated at the sight of the protective mother warg, murmuring to each other with disapproving expressions. Though they tolerated the warg presence in their midst, they did not by any means approve of them. Especially when the adults could not control their offspring. While the silver warg kept a shrewd eye on the nearby elves, Jigar drew in a deep breath and roared at his son; a great, bellowing sound of strength and order that left Marina's ears ringing with the noise even as it dwindled away with the wind. Caelu whined and whimpered before lowering onto his belly in submission, ears flattened to his skull as he snuffled unhappily into the grass.
With a derisive snort, Jigar sat down by Caelu and began to give the pup a bath, much to the little warg's protest.
"Wow. That's one way to get a child to stop." Marina observed, inwardly relieved that Nina was presently with her grandfather and not in hearing distance of this racket.
How else will he learn? Jigar rumbled between strokes of his tongue against his son's currently soft fur. With age it would grow rougher yet still maintain its smoothness in certain areas.
Explaining to the scarred warg that screaming at a human baby would only make it get louder wasn't worth the effort or the headache. Instead Marina simply gave an off-hand shrug and went back to creating a 'hopscotch' set up with various sticks she had found beneath the behemoth trees. Several stones had been collected to make up the numbers within the crudely designed squares, whilst the smaller ones would be used to toss. The only substitute for Braig (if she cared to play) was a fairly large rock that Marina had tied a rope around so that the warg could lift it without damaging her teeth on the stone. Braig sniffed at it curiously, ears perked yet still attentive of her mate and pups scant metres away. Legolas and Haldir had resumed their duel, honing their tactics against each other.
"So how do...you play this hopsoth?" Gimli eyed the make-shift game on the ground.
"Hopscotch." Marina corrected with a light smile, knowing that she had not just Gimli's attention but the majority of the elves as well even while they practised. "So you get a stone." Holding up the little object for all to see, the human turned her body to face the game that she had grown up with for years. A twinge pulled at her heart as she reminisced playing this very game with Timothy; it was a good memory and served to bring a smile to her face rather than tears to her eyes. Her little brother had never been very good at it but he had never lacked for enthusiasm. More often than not the stone (or coin. Practically whatever they could find at the time) would end up short of its destination or in the completely wrong direction. Marina was distracted by a nudge against her arm before it was forced up and up by Braig cuddling into her side, affectionately licking her cheek.
"Stop it, Braig!" Marina said firmly though the undertone was anything but, and the warg picked up on it, playfully slobbering over her human's face and hair.
Up until the moment that Jazorg declared war upon them, Marina would enjoy as much time with her family as possible. Damn the consequences. Any further attempt at combat training was pointless; she had absorbed as much as possible and could go no further without actual battle experience. There would be no benefit to continue training when it only tired her out and made the mortal unquestionably grumpy. Legolas had come to that conclusion just yesterday and decided that the least she could do was watch him as he trained and try to pick tactics up that way. It was a small hope but hope nonetheless. Seeing as Marina could barely keep up with him when he was in complete concentration mode. Elves moved too damn fast in battle, especially when they concentrated. Marina had given up and thus the hopscotch idea came to mind. Though it had not included a slobber-induced hairdo and a screaming baby warg. Oh well.
"As I was saying." Marina glared half-heartedly at her best friend, eyeing the silver warg as Braig sat back on her haunches, cocking her head in amusement. Just sitting the beautiful creature was several inches taller than Marina, a fact which the warg took great delight in on occasion because it meant she could discreetly bare her teeth at any who dared too close to the mortal. It was true that the wargs and the elves had developed a mutual understanding over the short time they had been in Mirkwood but that didn't mean Braig trusted them. Not one bit. If any dared to harm the little human, Braig would kill them. No questions. Like a certain red-haired elf for example. Braig still needed to have a little...chat with her.
"So using the stone, you throw it as far as you possibly can so you can get to the furthest number. The square you are standing on dictates whether you can stand on one leg or both." Throwing a smirk at Braig, Marina said, "Or if you're a warg, hind legs I guess. First back to the start wins. If you fall over you're out. Any questions?"
This is what two-legs do for fun? Jigar's disbelief was audible, much to Marina's amusement.
Braig cautiously poked the customised rock with her paw. It does seem a little odd...but I will play.
Marina brought her hands together with a finalised clap. "Ok. Game on!"
And a very odd, very bizarre game of hopscotch ensued.
Gimli was horrible at the game. Not because he couldn't do it or that he didn't understand the rules. The dwarf cheated, and he was very cunning about it. When no one was looking, he would hang his foot half an inch off the ground for a semblance of balance and quickly raise it before anyway could notice. And he was winning because of it. Marina and Braig had quickly grown irritated and the trio had now taken to try pushing each other over. Watching a warg do a cartwheel backwards in trying to stand on her hind legs had been terribly funny for a second or two until Braig regained her feet and knocked Gimli off his own.
And sat on him.
Arms folded across her chest, Marina grinned evilly at the trapped dwarf as he wriggled and cursed beneath the giant warg. "Get her off! Move off, ya furry beast!"
"Insulting her isn't going to get you anywhere, Gimli." The woman advised smugly.
Cheating was punishable in all ways. Plonking a warg on top of someone was a good way to do it. As Braig and Gimli argued about the rules and guidelines of hopscotch and just why the dwarf had been cheating, Marina tuned out of the garbled mess and instead focused on Legolas who was still trading blows with Haldir. Heat encompassed her body at studying his movements; the focus of his eyes on an enemy. When he was moving slowly enough to comprehend his stances, it took Marina's breath away.
A man who could fight was always a pleasure to see. Especially if you were married to them.
Training had taken them out of hearing distance, and as Haldir glanced out of his peripheral to check the progress of the human game, he was surprised to find Braig and Gimli having some description of a dispute. The warg was sitting on him after all. And Marina was staring across at him. No, not at him, Haldir corrected himself. At Legolas. The Prince was currently playing the defensive, giving the Marchwarden a chance to get under his guard. Practicing offensive and defensive were key to be prepared for just about anything in a battle. And Haldir couldn't help admiring Legolas's ruthless concentration; even with his soul mate nearby, he could focus on priority.
"Your wife is ogling us." The Marchwarden remarked casually as he swept his sword towards his opponent's head, deliberately trying to get a rise out of the Prince. After all, it was no secret that Haldir desired Marina, and still did even if he had accepted it could never be. And Legolas knew it.
Parrying created the shriek of metal colliding as Legolas raised his weapon defensively, locking the swords together for a moment as his eyes flashed across to view Marina. His little wife was indeed staring but not at Haldir. Mouth tilting into a smirk, not only at Haldir's attempt to rile him but also from Marina's reactive blush to his notice, Legolas raised a brow at the elf opposite him.
"Us? I do not believe so. Me? Yes, I can agree with that."
Haldir frowned at him. "You cannot differentiate when we are standing so close together." Grasping at straws is what this was, and the Marchwarden could not seem to help himself. Ruffling the Prince's feathers was something he took delight in when it came to Marina.
Tweaking the tiger's tail was always a bad idea, especially when it came to the matter of the mortal woman. Legolas narrowed his eyes at the elf, bracing against the insistent push that slithered down his arms as Haldir tried to overpower him. The swords protested with whines of scratched metal. But the Prince held his own, not giving an inch even when Haldir shoved against him.
He waited patiently for the Marchwarden to try and gain the upper hand.
A shift of Haldir's foot and the minute tightening of his palm about the sword was all the indication Legolas needed.
Sliding to the side, Legolas felt the blades give way, the propulsion sending Haldir staggering forward as he tried to compensate his weight distribution. Legolas did not give him that opportunity and pivoted on his heel, slamming his knee straight into his opponent's abdomen. Coupled with Haldir's unsteady footing and Legolas's blow, it was enough to knock the Marchwarden sprawling into the dirt.
"Legolas!" Marina's voice echoed toward them in outrage, knowing that Legolas had done that deliberately to the other elf.
"I believe she is definitely looking at me." Legolas commented smugly, pretending he had not heard his soul mate as he stared at the downed elf. Though he was momentarily distracted as a lithe, young she-elf appeared from behind a tactic obstacle. And her eyes were squarely set, not on the Prince, but on Haldir even as he clambered quickly to his feet with a low snarl. Hair of starlight settled about her shoulders, framing the soft, aristocratic features of her petite profile. Soft lips. Clear cerulean eyes. She was beautiful and very, very young.
Legolas guessed that she had to be an elf-ling: elves aged between fifty and two-hundred. Elves were not born mature and sophisticated. Only time could change a person so. And this she-elf was currently no different than to someone of Marina's age. Young, with a lust for adventure and on the search for a person to spend their life with. Or, as Marina had told him, a shorter time constraint were they human. He was just relieved that didn't apply to his human. At least, he hoped it did not.
"Prince Legolas." The high, tinkling of her voice was pleasant rather than grating as the young she-elf greeted him with a cordial curtsy.
Responding with a nod, Legolas smiled carefully at her as the cerulean eyes widened as they gazed up at Haldir with something akin to admiration. Mirkwood and Lorien were far off neighbours but word did move quickly of the other's exploits. There were not many border guardians that had the opportunity to lead an army. And Haldir was not exception to the rule. He had become a bit of a celebrity in terms of accomplishments and perhaps this young woman had developed a bit of a...crush.
Beautiful and petite, Legolas doubted that the young elf-ling would grow to a height one would come to accept of their culture but she wouldn't be too far off the standard. Who were her parents, he began to wonder. Why had he never seen her before? Was there actually more to her than just an idolisation of a hero? The hero being Haldir, naturally. Any attempt to further ponder the situation was dashed when Legolas found himself tackled. Blindsided completely. A grunt escaped him as he landed on his back amidst the churned earth, and as he opened his eyes he wasn't overly surprised to find an enraged Marina atop him. Jealousy was very becoming; the way it made her stormy grey eyes move with purpose and etched her expression into one of attractive anger.
"Hello, mil-nin." Legolas purred at her, making no move to touch her.
"Don't you mil-nin me." Marina snapped heatedly, the palm of her hands maintaining a steady pressure to his shoulders. It did not skip her notice that had he wanted to, it would be very easy to push her off or reverse their position. So typical that he already knew what was irking her. "You were ogling her." A waving hand indicated the direction in which Haldir and the little she-elf had retreated to speak in private.
Legolas couldn't help it. The irony was too much.
As the soft, liquid laugh escaped from his throat, Marina felt it slide down her spine and into every extremity of nerves that she possessed. A shiver wracked her body, robbing her of any semblance of control. Damn it all. Eyes narrowing into slits, Marina regained her composure and leaned forward over him.
"It's not funny."
"Oh, it is. You were ogling me nary a second ago. And I was never ogling her; merely studying." The Prince pointed out with a cheeky smirk.
Red dusted across her cheeks and a mumbled, "No I was not," was directed at his throat, completely ignoring his pretence that he had not been perving on an elf that looked barely the age of twenty.
Purring softly against her, Legolas stroked his fingers very lightly down her spine, hinting at the sensitive areas of her lower back deliberately. Marina hissed through her teeth, her skin burning at his touch even with the layer of clothing separating them. When she tried to move off him, the hand she had not been paying attention to had slipped beneath the front of her shirt, slipping up to cup her breast.
"You're adorable when you're jealous." Legolas murmured huskily, completely unbothered by the fact that there was an audience. Though they could not see exactly what he was doing it wasn't difficult to venture a guess.
Marina trembled, teeth sinking into her lip as his thumb ghosted over a rapidly hardening peak, his large hand completely enveloping the sensitive flesh. Tingles of heat seeped into her abdomen as his nails lightly ran over the base of her spine causing her to whimper in a very humiliating fashion. Legolas watched her with dark navy eyes, wishing that they were back in their bedroom so he could show her why he could not ogle any besides her. The temptation to hear her sweet voice give way to pleasure was almost over-whelming. Damn the war.
"I'm not...jealous." Marina hissed and reluctantly grabbed his devious arm, yanking it from the confines of her shirt. The loss of heat and the sensation it inflicted upon her was ridiculous. A bloody pain in the butt was what it was - just an indication of how addictive his touch was. "Stop that! We're in public. Have you no shame?"
A squeak escaped the mortal as warm hands gripped her waist before rolling them, pinning her beneath the weight of his body.
Legolas's lips descended roughly onto her own, even as she wriggled and growled half-heartedly in an attempt to push him off. Craning his head back, the elf smirked down at her in an adoring fashion.
"No. No shame at all."
Marina blew strands of hair out of her eyes, still trying to maintain a glare but failing. Badly. "Typical. You're so lucky I love you."
Helping his beautiful wife to her feet, Legolas folded her in his embrace. "I know."
Braig glanced at Jigar questioningly, having since released the dwarf from the suffocating weight of her body. A long string of the short-two-leg language had been thrown at her, but much to Gimli's distaste, she had not understand a word of it. Giving up on insulting the giant beast the dwarf had moved away towards where Haldir was standing a ways off with the new little sharp-ear. Though she was not entirely an expert in the emotions of two-legs, Braig was almost positive there was a strange gleam in the dwarf's eyes. A bad, wicked gleam.
Two-legs are odd. Why can they not just mate as we do? All the 'kissing' and 'feeling' and...odd stuff. Braig playfully nuzzled each of her resting pups before sitting on the opposite side of the grass-made play pen, extending her muzzle to poke at her mate's shoulder.
The air was thick with pheromones, mainly presiding from the two previously rolling about in the dirt. Yet now it was slinking from the tiny sharp-ear that was talking with the steel-dress-sharp-ear. Human scents were bearable. An aroused elf was enough to give any warg a pounding headache. It was very strong and very potent. Jigar rubbed his nose against the grass before replying.
They are not built like us. And they certainly don't act like us. Jigar rumbled, sounding infinitely grateful that he shared no characteristics with humans, orcs, elves, dwarves or anything other than a warg. Breathing deeply, he sneezed, shaking his great head to rid the smell of the horny elves from his nasal passage. The sound startled the pups though they quickly fell back into sleep as babies do. Short of showing them, I doubt they could.
Cocking her head to the side, Braig made a puzzled noise. Are you sure? Though they do not mate immediately and do the forslay...forday...foreplay thing before, I think they can mate as we do. Marina is very flexible. The silver warg nodded her head wisely.
Jigar gave a growled deeply in his chest, a sound which related to laughter in the warg language and sent a shiver through Braig. Two-legs wouldn't mate like wargs. It's too primitive. Flexible or no.
I don't know...Braig said thoughtfully, reminding herself to ask Marina if they did mate like her kind. Then she would be able to rub the truth in Jigar's face.
Haldir was mildly uncomfortable. Never had he been open to such scrutiny; such...admiration. Particularly from his own kind. A much younger, female version of his kind. Not only because of that but also due to his infatuation of Marina. To have another female admire him so made him feel as though he were betraying his Noldorin in some way. Loyalty was obsolete when said maiden of your affections could never be yours. But he still could not shake the feeling that there was a connection between himself and the woman from another land. And he could not allow himself the luxury of breaking that connection, whatever it may be.
"My Lord Haldir?"
And he had been so busy fretting about possibly betraying Marina that he had forgotten who was standing next to him. Clearing his throat, Haldir met the pretty cerulean eyes of what would normally be the personification of beauty in his culture. Except there was the lack of midnight locks and grey eyes...
"Forgive me, my Lady." Adopting himself into a straighter stance, the Marchwarden bowed at the waist to the young she-elf. As Legolas had summarised, Haldir was of the same mind that this young woman could not be older than seventy. A hundred tops. A child. That in itself was an indication that he should be moving away right about now. Except that seemed to be impossible for lithe fingers slipped into the palm of his hand in a gesture of respect as her other hand came up to cup his. What did he do?
"You have a lot on your mind. I have admired you since I heard of your tales at Helm's Deep." Cerulean eyes sparkled prettily, her fingers tightening about his hand. Haldir just barely resisted yanking it from her grip. If there was one thing he wasn't used to, it was forwardness, "I am Lilya Starhaven. It...it is a pleasure to meet you, my Lord."
And there it was; the obvious child-like infatuation within her eyes. A pleading, almost desperate tilt to her voice as she tried to disguise her longing to have him acknowledge her further. Even in the cusp of approaching adulthood in human years, Lilya still had the mentality of a teenager. There was nothing beyond sexual that spurred her interest with him. Despite elvish customs, this she-elf would be delighted, Haldir presumed, if he invited her to his bed.
In all honesty, Haldir didn't know what to say or do. Did he respond positively or negatively? Brush her aside? Walk away, or better yet run away? Throwing a desperate glance to his previous sparring partner, a twinge of annoyance graced his features to find Legolas with his back to them, talking privately with his wife. No help from there, and Marina wasn't paying attention to anyone other than the Prince in front of her. Braig and Jigar (probably Jigar) would aid him by driving her off but in terms of social advise? Not helpful. He had not noticed a certain dwarf creeping up on them with a barely concealed grin until the blasted creature revealed himself through a thatch of grass.
"Oh, Haldir! There ya are, laddie." Gimli said in over-exaggeration, watching with glee as Haldir's face drew tight in discomfort. It was so very fascinating how elves became easy to read when you knew them better. And Gimli was on such a role with torturing his new elven friend that it seemed impossible to stop. There was just so much enjoyment to be had seeing an elf squirm. Legolas knew the dwarf too well to react or respond to Gimli's jibes so he was a pointless target. Haldir, however, did not.
Lilya appeared visibly startled by the dwarf's presence, stiffening indignantly. The charming, sweet natured teenager disappeared in an instant to be replaced by a prejudiced she-elf. As young as she was, it wasn't surprising that the general elvish opinion of dwarves had been imparted to her. Being too young to venture far from home, Lilya could not understand that dwarves were not as bad as the centuries of dislike between the two races indicated.
And the she-elf was about to make the mistake of alerting Gimli to that fact. "My Lord, you know this...dwarf?" If looks could kill the dwarf knew he would probably be flopping on the ground right then in death throes.
Torn between defending his newfound alliance with Gimli, placating Lilya's distaste for dwarvish kind, and joining in with her just for a slice of revenge, Haldir found that he had lost the ability to speak. But no matter, for Gimli was right there to help his currently speech-impaired friend.
"Aye, he knows me very well, lassie." Gimli said gruffly, pleased that he was slightly taller than her.
Ignoring that the dwarf had spoken, Lilya changed again, back into the delightful young she-elf as she gazed up at Haldir with tangible appreciation. "My Lord, I know there are many who desire your affections-"
Gimli snorted. "I can't fathom why anyone would desire your affection."
Haldir glanced between the two of them, fingering the hilt of his sword in such a way that it appeared casual and normal. For those that knew him, it was considered a sign that he was uncomfortable and confused.
Lilya glared daggers at the slightly taller dwarf before continuing, switching back and forth between the personification of a love-struck teenager and a biased she-elf who knew naught about the world she lived in. It was enough to give anyone whiplash as to how fast she could flick between the two and not have it hinder her emotion towards either side.
"-but I would be most honoured-"
"Honour yourself wee lassie by keeping your mouth closed." The dwarf leapt in again.
A twitch appeared above her eyebrow as she continued, "-if you would consider-"
"Throwing you to the wargs? Gladly!" Dragging his fingers through his beard, Gimli mimicked a warg's chomping jaws with his hands.
Something of a smile was playing at the corner of Haldir's mouth but Lilya did not notice.
"-my offer of-"
"Walking away before you shame yourself? Yes, he considers and accepts that proposal!" Gimli chortled, getting a rush of exhilaration when the young she-elf whipped her head at him to bare her teeth, her self-restraint dwindling the more the dwarf provoked her.
By now Haldir's hand had risen to clasp over his mouth, as if he were indeed concentrating on her conversation. Except, much to Lilya's ignorance, the Marchwarden was trying valiantly not to burst into laughter at Gimli's antics and her pointless attempt to woo him into some description of a relationship that would never happen.
"-courtship." Lilya finished sweetly, hands clasped before her and gazing up at Marchwarden with an expectant, self-assured manner.
"Courtship? You and Haldir? You aren't his type."
Haldir glanced at the dwarf with a raised brow. Had Gimli remembered his preference in women (Marina reference aside). This he had to see.
Lilya, too, seemed astounded, eyes widening and mouth parting in something akin to shock. "W-what do you mean? W-what would you know, d-dwarf! Short and fat as you are," Inhaling softly through her nose, the she-elf made a disgusted sound in her throat, gaining confidence as she ploughed on in insulting this insignificant creature. "With a horrid stench to match, how dare you presume I am not his type."
Not in the least bit offended by the fact that she had insulted him and observed him like he was the scum of the earth, Gimli held up his hand and started counting off his fingers. "You're too short. You look like someone has shoved dung up your nose." Two digits went down, the dwarf's beard barely concealing his joyful grin. "You're not curvy or busty. Your hair has the consistency of straw."
"And!" The dwarf began his conclusion dramatically, holding up his thumb as the lucky last persecutor of justice. "You're just a kid."
Haldir couldn't help it. He snorted. And then started laughing much to his little admirer's shock.
Lilya glanced tearfully between the two. One could call her bipolar for how quickly she changed. "But...my Lord Haldir...I love you."
Brandishing his hand like a feared voodoo item, Gimli slunk towards her. "Be gone ugly elf-child before I touch you and give you germs!"
Clasping her petite hands to an equally lacking chest, Lilya's bottom lip jutted into a horrible pout that had Haldir inwardly cringing. How could he have ever deemed her as pretty? "Y-you wouldn't. And Lord Haldir would never let you!" Lilya proclaimed proudly, believing to have gained herself an inch of confidence.
A certain dwarf was about to smack that confidence into the next era.
"What a shame I don't listen to the laddie." Gimli chuckled evilly and made waggly fingers at the rapidly retreating elf-child. "Come back here!" And off went the dwarf, surprisingly fast as he chased the screeching she-elf from sight.
Releasing a sigh he hadn't realised he had been holding, Haldir laughed beneath his breath. "I owe you one, my friend."
"Lord Haldir!"
"It's him! Marchwarden!"
"Haldir of Lorien!"
Turning very slowly, the Marchwarden found himself surrounded by a damn gaggle of young she-elves, all with the same sparkling eyes that Lilya had. They were corralling him. Poking him. Touching him! What in Eru's name had he done to deserve this? Admiration was all well and good but this? This was a pretence to some serious thought of leaving Mirkwood and never coming back. Ever. Haldir forced the most charming smile on his face that he could muster, distracting them with the gesture (that left them decidedly swooning with joy) before he inched out between a gap of female bodies.
And ran for his life.
"GIMLI, SAVE ME!"
The insistent young she-elves danced after the Marchwarden with calls of utter devotion and endless gifts.
Great nostrils inhaled deeply, drawing oxygen into massive lungs that forced the red hide to expand to its greatest limits.
Blood...Death...Blood...
Claws of steel dug into the earth, sinking and ripping.
The Cries...The Cries!
Muscles long deprived of movement twitched and strained, limited beneath the strength of chains.
Brood...my Brood...Danger...In Danger!
Molten eyes of amber snapped open.
On the overlooking precipice of Dol Guldur, Jazorg the Conjurer opened his mutilated mouth to laugh even as the creature screamed her anguish.
"Elves took your children! They drained your babies of precious blood to prolong their own beauty." Jazorg sneered down to the heaving beast, whose eyes did not leave him for a second. "Follow their scent and it will lead you to salvation."
Intelligent amber eyes narrowed, pupils dilated as the creature inhaled again, ignoring the presence of multiple races skittering around her massive body. They did not matter. Her Brood. Her Brood. Fire and Death would rain upon those who took her children from her.
RELEASE ME! The female roared, the sound itself causing the ground to shake. I WILL DESTROY THESE BROOD THIEFS! FIRE AND DEATH. FIRE AND DEATH TO THOSE WHO TOOK MY YOUNG ONES!
In an instant the heavy chains and magic concealing the great beast from sight and anchoring her to the ground lifted. Shaking its great scaled body, the creature raised its head to offer Jazorg a calculating look before huge wings snapped open.
Jazorg grinned as the Fire Drake roared and launched herself into the sky with powerful flaps of her gargantuan wings.
In just a few hours, the tranquillity of the City of Mirkwood would be shattered by the arrival of the angry female dragon.
And the war to save Middle-Earth would begin.
THE END
No I'm just kidding. How many people did I get with that? Noooo! Don't throw things at me. I'm just evil.
Anyways.
So important information. Well, vote actually.
I've been thinking about the Haldir x OC and thought about the idea of him being in our world. So lets put it to a vote.
1. Haldir is transported to Earth 2014.
2. OC is predictably taken to Middle-Earth in some way that isn't logical at all.
And if you have an option three lets hear it!
Next vote: Thranduil and Tauriel have sexy times?
3. Yes
4. No
Both votes will work on the theory of "more votes wins" so if you don't vote we won't get very far in decision making, my dearies!
I hate my own cliffhangers. So frustrating! See you in two to four (just to be safe) weeks, dearies! Ciao!