If there's anyone out there who is up to the huge task of beta-reading me, I'd love it!
And much as I hate to admit it, I could use some tutelage in sex scenes, too. Much obliged.
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My fear is growing in this place. I begin to see more of the black-clad swarmers in our corridors. Are they more fearful now that Isildur's heir, he who can weild the Sword That Was Broken, now he again has a will to live?
Perhaps they are. And they should be. He said something that made me evermore alert and watchful.
"Legolas," he said, eyes rolling like a startled horse, "I fear for my daughters in this place." He reached out and grasped my arm. "I know how much anxiety Arwen had, for herself and for them, when we first came here." He paused a moment, and I caught my breath. It was the first time he had mentioned Arwen all this time. "I know they are only yet bairns, but nonetheless I cannot help but imagine of Sauron...his brutality must not be underestimated...I...."
"I understand, Aragorn," I said, frowning.
"You will keep close watch on Analera and Eva, then?" He was so agitated that I, too, caught his fear, felt it seeping into my bones. "Especially Analera. She knows neither fear nor caution and needs a close keeper."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. I think he was fighting back tears, perhaps tears of frustration. He has had not enough strength to leave his bed again, and it troubles him greatly.
It troubles me also.
And now I am much troubled for the girls.
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I am spending so much time with the twins, I almost begin to worry that they think me their father. One will hang off one arm, one from the other, and they will do naught but plague me until I give in to them. When they are hurt or frightened, they cry out to me.
Eldaron resents this, but he thinks it still too early to let them see Aragorn. Indeed, he is still a fright to see, hollow-cheeked, with burning eyes.
And we all keep both eyes on the black-clad vassals that swarm like flies on a corpse.
What are we now but a corpse? There will be little enough left of Gondor or Mirkwood when Sauron gains full strength. Imprisoning us here was a brilliant move from him. Who knows who is in charge, what happens back in our homes?
And I can see no way out.
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I walked in to find Aragorn standing in the middle of his chamber, half-dressed, crying.
He was holding a token Arwen once gave him. It had slipped out of a hitherto unchecked pocket.
I moved to comfort him, putting my arms about his still, stiff, straight body. He shook beneath my hands, and his tears drenched my shoulder where his head rested, but he made no noise.
It was worse, this silent flood. He sobbed without letting himself cry.
Eventually he melted against me, and dropped the pendant he held. The noise it made clattering on the floor sounded as if it could be heard for miles.
Something strange happened. The flood of tears stopped, and he put his arms around my kneck, stroking my hair, my cheeks, my neck. We were locked in a tight embrace, and I could feel his muscles against me shifting into a diffent attitude, loving and warm. I whispered his name, and brought my hands up to stroke the tears off his face. He kissed the tips of my fingertips.
It was erotic and almost wonderful, but strange and a little disturbing.
It was just what I'd always wanted, but it was all wrong.
It wasn't me he wanted, it was Arwen. He wanted his queen back, he wanted the mother of his children.
Or maybe he just wanted a little physical comfort, something to remind him he was alive.
It wasn't about me, and I knew it.
But I didn't care. He began to undress me, and I easily slipped him out of the little clothing he wore, but as we moved towards the bed, kissing everywhere but lip to lip, everything changed.
We stopped. He came back to himself. I was mortified.
"We can't do this, Legolas." He sounded genuinely sorry. "We can't. It wasn't right, I'm sorry." He cried again and we were close again, friends only, close companions, comrades in arms. I dressed, as did he, and he went to try to work some strength back into his limbs, as I went to fetch food for the children. I felt like a chambermaid who had come this close to a fatal indescresion.
But god! I wanted it so much. I still want it. I'm yearning for him, every second, every thought, every breath.
I'd almost forgotten how much I wanted him, wanted to have him, wanted to taste him.
But of course, it was wrong.
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Now, you know there were those lovely people who wrote me lovely reviews. Well, guess what? YOU CAN DO IT TOO! Don't be shy, come on! Dance with me! sway, clap YOU TOO/CAN REVIEW! anyway, please review. And be as mean as you like! Please, tell me what's wrong with it???? How to fix would be appreiciated too. But the main thing is, let me know that you're actually reading this thing!