A/N- I was re-reading my plot cheat sheet and I ...well I had to update. To make up for the gaps of updating. (

Hehehe maybe not.

Chapter 51- I Lost You

Pengwaith was pacing in his room; Leyadriel's guards were outside his door and his window..... there was no escape. He couldn't take a piss without her knowing about it, he was under the worst lock and key, far worse then prison. He had thought that his seduction had been perfect this time; it wasn't even a complete stunt.

For all that he'd ever done to her, he thought her beautiful. How could he not? Her beauty had caught his eye before her crown had, and she normally had a sweet disposition ...... he assumed that her inconvenient impregnation had led her to be the slightest bit angry at him.

A knock came to the door, interrupting his thoughts, and Leyadriel waddled through, her swollen belly making her strides less fluid if not less graceful then they always had been. Her hair was down and the midnight locks fell past her burden, her face glowed with the ethereal beauty of her kin, pregnancy agreed with her.

"Good evening my Lady, here to make your leash on me shorter?" he snapped, aggravated.

"Really now, I've kept you from a cell, have I not? Would you prefer to be back in the dungeons?" Her voice soothed his anger; it was a voice make for cooing lullabies to babes.

He sat down and ran a hand over his face; it was still as fair as it had been when their first liaison had transpired. She sat beside him and he spoke into his hands, "What do you want?"

She looked into her lap and wrung her hands, "I was remembering us....... You've hurt me."

He looked at her, wondering where she was going as she continued, "You must be a wonderful actor, to have me so fooled by your performance for so long......how did you do it?"

"Why do you care to know?" He asked, not particularly caring for the direction this conversation was headed.

"Because I want to know what my son might be capable of doing," she rubbed her belly absentmindedly, "I want to know the second half of him for what it really is; I want to know who you really are."

Pengwaith looked at her belly for the first time since she had told him the news. He really stared at it and tentatively reached out a hand.....and placed it over his unborn son. Something moved and he jerked his grasp away but Leyadriel only laughed and placed his hand over the swell again.

"He's kicking; he does that when new people touch him."

Pengwaith smiled for a moment, a genuine smile of awe at the tiny life he'd helped to create, "Why do you keep calling it 'him'?"

"Because it's a boy," Leyadriel smiled softly, the smile all mothers to be wear, "Methion, that's his name."

"Methion," Pengwaith tested the name on his tongue like some men tested wine, "What does it mean?"

"Son of love." And with that Leyadriel's eyes turned on Pengwaith's and she was deadly serious, "It is not for love of you that I gave him that name, I love him, he is my son, the only love in my life now."

Pengwaith nodded, he was arrogant but not stupid, there was little love lost between he and Leyadriel. It had been robbed from them long ago, when they were too young to appreciate it.

Maybe she deserved to know about that, he felt the baby kick again and he decided. Yes, yes she did.

"If you want to know the truth.....I'll tell you." He patted the bed beside him, honestly in his eyes for the first time in countless years.

***Flashback***

Pengwaith was playing with a bow and arrow, made for a young boy such as himself: blunted and loose, harmless in every regard. He was running around the house like a madman, enjoying if nothing else the feel of the air rushing past him, the smell of the kitchens' concoctions wafting through the halls of his childhood home.

"Pengwaith!" He heard his mother's voice call, husky but soothing to his ears he ran to his mother. She was young in his memory, but even with her youth gray edges tinged her hair and frown lines began to creep onto her cheeks. Age had taken her quickly, he knew now, and now he pitied that she had so little time to spend with what had been a great beauty.

His mother was one eighth elvish, a fact he had never been allowed to forget. His blood had immortality laced into it, making him better then his peers; his father had told him so long ago he couldn't place it. Mere mortals, he had been instructed, would look upon the little elf lord and quiver in respect and fear.

Respect and Fear, they went hand in hand

And when one became greater then other was Grand

And so said the Kings who ruled o'er the Land,

Great Fear and Respect make a powerful man.

That had been the rhyme he had first heard as a child, it was part of a greater story of a wealthy old king who purchased happiness and sold it to his people and....... Well that was a story for another time.

Anyway.......

Pengwaith ran into his mother's arms, his poor mother old before her time, and she gripped his face firmly in his hands, "Come, come little lord. Your father's been looking for you; his ears are fuming with impatience."

The color drained from the little boys face, when his father was angry no good came of it.

She led him into the parlor and his father turned around and strode over to him quickly, gripping his shoulder painfully hard, "Where have you been boy?!"

"Playing." Mumbled the child, looking at his shoes rather then his father's raging eyes.

"Playing?! Do you think Lords play?"

"No, sir."

"That's right! They don't! And if ever want to live up to your name and not shame mine you'll start behaving like one!"

"Yessir." It was almost an inaudible reply and his father made him repeat it until he almost screamed it, "YESSIR!"

His father smiled evilly and unhooked his belt, "Turn around, boy."

Tears started forming in Pengwaith's eyes, he knew what was coming but before he could hide his face from his father the old man gripped his jaw so hard that it later bruised, "What's this? Tears?"

"No." Pengwaith willed himself not to cry but the more he tried not to the more the tears flowed down his cheeks. The Lord turned on his wife with a viciously backhand that sent her to the floor, "You soften him too much!"

She may have mumbled a reply, she may have just been whimpering in pain, Pengwaith couldn't tell.

"There is no crying, boy, when life's unfair you accept it with your chin high! There are no tears!" He swung his thick belt around and it smacked against the boy's skin loudly, smacking sickeningly against the youngster's hide.

Blood stained the back of Pengwaith's tunic, tears stained his pale cheeks.

What had he done? What had he ever done? Nothing, at least nothing good enough, nothing worth his father's love or respect. His father was ashamed of him, even his mother could scarcely look at him. He would do anything t please them, anything to stop being the shame of his blood. He was better, better then the others and yet he had not lived up to the expectations laid in front of him.

He sniffled and wiped his tears away on his sleeve and looked at his father, "You wanted to see me, sir?"

The old Lord was now wearing a crooked smile, "Yes, I've something I want you to do."

***End Flashback***

"That night he first took me to your birthday party, that night I danced with you. He told me that I was to keep an eye on you, a close watch until he told me my next move. I listened to him, obeyed him, what choice did I have?" Pengwaith was staring blankly at the wall as Leyadriel listened attentively, her face not betraying her true bewilderment, Gwainath was known for his bluntness and brutality.

"But what about after that, after we'd been together. Surely that wasn't an act; surely your father doesn't have that much influence over you." She cooed.

The pained expression in Pengwaith's eyes was nothing short of years of being his father's foot soldier, anything Gwainath said to do, he did, if his father had told him to slice open his wrists he'd have done it and died hoping his father would love him enough to bury him.

"You've no idea what he would do....." Another memory flashed behind his eyes willing him to share it:

**Flash Back**

Pengwaith was now a boy bordering on manhood, soon he would be grown enough to take charge of his father's affairs, if Gwainath allowed him the privilege. He had long since won Leyadriel's heart, he could see it in her eyes, her gestures, he could hear it in every word they shared and it lightened his heart. Never in his life had someone loved him.

His mother was afraid to love him, afraid to talk to him or touch him, his father..... he wasn't sure his father could love.

His elf princess, his beautiful girl. No matter what the others said about her face, beauty still graced her. The scar, he thought, made her look more human, more real then most elves looked to his eyes.

"Pengwaith!!" He flinched upon hearing his father's voice but he calmly stood his ground, erasing all emotion from his face and standing soldier- stiff in his own garden.

"Yes, sir?"

"Where have you been?" This was his father's favorite question to ask him, it wasn't as though the old man cared at all, he just had run out of commands, run out of wishes. He didn't trust his son with much so he had little to berate him about except his location throughout the day.

Pengwaith opened his mouth to answer but his father raised a hand to silence him and began sniffing the air like a hound on the scent of a fox.

"Flowers? Strange flowers." Gwainath for all his faults was an expert gardener and within minutes had reached into his son's breast pocket and pulled out a small diary that held a pressed elanor blossom that Leyadriel had given him earlier when he'd met her.

"Elanor, father."

"You were with that elf wench again." Gwainath stated ominously.

"What of it if I was?" Pengwaith snapped irritably causing his father to slap him straight across his face.

"Dammit boy! It's worse then what I feared! That is the third time in as many days that you've seen her!"

"You told me to win her; I do not see why the way I choose to woo her has anything to do with it as long as I woo her." Pengwaith's reply was barely a whisper; his jaw was on fire from his father's reprimand.

"Son......the last thing I need is you to turn from a fool to a lovesick fool. You're useless enough to me when you have your full wits! How am I supposed to trust you with anything if you spend all your time with the she-elf? How am I supposed to give you more responsibility if you dedicate your time to her? You are unfortunately all I have in the way of an heir and my time will not be longstanding. Let me tell you this now, boy, your not going to be left so much as a dime until you stop your foolhardy ways and begin to act like a man and not a child. Do you understand?"

With a face of stone, Pengwaith realized that everything he had worked for his whole life; his father's approval, trust and respect, were so close at hand and only his emotions stood between him and his goal.

He thought of the dedication behind Leyadriel's eyes and looked into his future behind his father's cold grey ones.

He chose.

**End Flashback**

Pengwaith tentatively reached out a hand towards Leyadriel's stomach, now he regretted his choice but there was nothing he could do. Years of all the mental and physical abuse from his father had only ended a few months ago, at his father's funeral he'd not shed a tear. But in his father's will, Pengwaith was given everything, every last dime.

He should've been happy, decades of effort were put into that one moment, that one achievement and now that he had it......it felt so empty and meaningless.

He looked in her eyes, his fingers resting over the heartbeat of their son, "I know that I lost you, and I can't say that I didn't deserve it. But I don't know anything spare what my father taught me. My heart will never beat like this babe's does. My eyes can't cry genuine tears. Even telling you this is like sticking a knife in my own back, betraying everything I've worked for for so long. I won't ask for forgiveness, I don't want that nor pity nor understanding."

He withdrew his hand form her swollen belly and looked away, "I want you to leave and I want to be released. I want you to go now before I change my mind and hurt you."

"Hurt me?"

"That was the deal I made with your sister. All she wanted was you dead, dead so that Legolas could not return to you. All this time I have been waiting for the right moment, the right time, the right place. Now please go before I do something more foolish then everything I've already done."

She nodded and glided to the door, resting an arm on top of her burden and took one last look at Pengwaith, all her questions about him both answered and multiplied. She gave a fleeting smile of pity to his back and left him to his internal battle; as much as she wanted she could not help him fight his demons...... she had enough of her own to face.

A/N- I know its beeen tooooo longl Sorry. What did you think? Please tell me in the form of a review.