AN: READ THIS!!! This story takes place long ago, and I've involved magic.
The words I use are made up, but you will find out what I mean. I've
changed some things, but included all of the Fellowship and some more.
Don't get too freaked out, It's a long story and deals with some serious
situations. If this bothers you. Don't read it. If it's to confusing for
you, don't read it.
With my stories, you have to think a little deeper. O_o
THIS IS IMPORTANT
Earth: Fanteore Air: Winzar Fire/Ice: Flaydrix Water: Aquisan Light: Delana Storm: DarunisHealing: Lifana Holy: Blymur Electricity: Shaxen Ice: Frezar Mind: Gurashi Fire: Raifal
Summary: It was a war, of good and evil, god and sin. It was a battle to the finish, a fight to the death, and the combatants were to take no prisoners. But on a field of blood, At the break of blackened day, two oppositions would collide, and first sight would lead to a losing victory Prisoners would be taken. Only in the war of love and hate, who is the captive within?
Part One B/ Captive Hearts
"Lord Aragorn?" The black haired man turned to the voice, breaking him from his memories.
"Yes? Oh, I apologize Legolas, my mind was else where."
Legolas watched his right hand carefully. Gauging his reaction.
"I know, Aragorn. About the girl, the brunette you had...She's the one you left behind, no?"
Aragorn watched the lord in return, his keen black eyes wary. "Yes, she is Sir."
Legolas shrugged. "Why do you not go to her? She is under your hand now."
Aragorn frowned.
"She betrayed me, Legolas, she became engaged to another. Lord Boromir."
"She thought you dead for four years." Was the logical reply.
Aragorn began to pace, much to the amusement of the Dark Lord.
"I am also on the opposite side of a war! I cannot just up and tell her 'I joined the enemy, betrayed my country and my love. Let us be together again.' She shall hate me forever!"
Legolas's eyes began to glow again with the light that always came when hard emotions hit.
"Consider this Aragorn, fate has brought your love to you once more. I have never been in love. You have the chance to love again."
Aragorn stopped pacing, glaring at Legolas. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because, my friend, I may be the villain, but I DO feel, and I want my only loyal comrade to be happy. Now go get ready for dinner. We shall invite the 'guests', and see what comes of it."
Aragorn nodded thoughtfully, before leaving the room.
Legolas turned to watch the passing sky from the balcony. 'Love...'
He thought of the odd feeling that the Lady Lyana had stirred within him. She was a lovely creature...He stood abruptly, and ran a hand through his lengthy blonde hair.
"Lady Lyana...perhaps..." He whispered thoughtfully, before leaving for dinner.
She gazed at the rich tapestries upon the dark stone walls, depicting stories of past battles and victories. The hall was warm, the velvet beneath her slippered feet soft.
Lyana's hair had been pulled into an elegant coiffeur, piled atop her head artfully, threaded through with pale, shining pearls. Her slender body was clothed in a mint green confection, the bodice shrouded in white lace and pearls. The off the shoulder sleeves fell to her wrists, ending in lace cuffs. The cinched waist led to a simple pastel green skirt, which also ended in lace. Lady Lyana had never felt more beautiful and unable to move, in her entire life.
Lady Arwen sadly joined Lyana in the hallway. Her own shimmering brown hair was drawn up coyly, with pins and jeweled combs. She wore a sky blue gown, the neckline square cut and simple. Her curvy figure was accented by the gowns simplicity, and her beauty awed Lyana.
"'Tis alright Lady Arwen, all shall be well in the end."
Secretly, she wondered if this dinner would lead to death. If the food was poisoned, or maybe the gowns. She didn't feel any burning though, so she felt a little safer. When dealing with the enemy, you could only relax so much, and Legolas Greenleaf was the most notorious enemy the Light kingdom had ever faced.
The eight ladies were led into a large chamber, filled with candles and lit by the moon filtering through the large, glass windows. It was beautiful really, but their fear kept them from enjoying it.
"Welcome Milady's..."
A calm, cold voice echoed through the hall, and Lyana recognized the form of their enemy in the dim light.
He sat, breathtakingly handsome, at the head of the long mahogany table. behind him, in the shadows, stood Lord Aragorn, and Lyana could feel his eyes on Arwen, his stare was so intense.
She cast a glance at the other girl, finding her staring back at Aragorn, tears in her eyes.
The women took the proffered seats, and nervously whispered. When Legolas spoke, he was watching Lyana, an odd fire in his gaze stirring Lyana's chest.
"I trust you have been well kept, as you shall be personally cared for by my comrade, Aragorn."
He flicked a glance at Arwen, who looked away sadly.
"I have several rules however, which shall not be imposed upon."
The women's whispering ceased, as they nervously, or tearfully, forced themselves to listen to their captor.
"You will not go, where I say not. You will not venture forth past the gates."
The women eyed him fearfully, as his blue eyes began to glow, making the imposing figure seem all the more powerful.
"You shall not form less then genteel relations with any member of my kingdom. I will not have bastards roaming my halls. I forbid you to leave past midnight, for my protection will not extend past then.
Any breach of conduct will result in immediate discipline, and I doubt any of you 'women' have the spine for it."
Servants bearing food-laden trays entered and began laying out platters of meats and delicacies. Their captor and Lord turned, summoning his dark protector from the shadows.
"Come Lord Aragorn. Join our victorious repast. You have earned it..."
Arwen looked away, her silver fork glittering against the empty china.
It was a fortnight later, when the shivering moonlight slid like cold cream over the velvet carpets. The inky blackness absorbing the stars above comforted her as she padded from the doorway, her auburn-brown hair cascading down her back.
Lyana crept stealthily down the empty corridor, aghast at the lack of guards posted about the halls.
Was the man so arrogant he thought they would sit and do nothing?
She turned a corner quickly, her light steps covering the ground like a back tiger. Her long legs spun as she arced around a corner, the cold stones sending shivers down her thinly clad body.
"I told you...My protection does not extend after midnight."
The girl was accosted from behind, as a pair of strong hands painfully wrenched her left arm behind her, causing her to hunch over in pain.
The silky whisper came far to close to her neck, as Legolas Greenleaf's warm breath tingled down her spin.
His strong grip loosened, but he did not release her. Instead, spinning her around, bringing her into jarring contact with his hard body.
Lyana gasped, as all her soft curves met the unyielding planes of his sturdy build. The dark lords burning blue gaze smoldered in the shadowy corridor, and the general's breath caught.
"You should have listened, lady Lyana..."
"How did you know!" She gasped, sharply.
He smirked in the languid darkness. "I would have been disappointed, had you not..."
His handsome face was mere inches from hers, his smooth lips trailing over her skin. The new sensations caused her to arch against his body, and a ragged groan, the likes of which she had never heard, was torn from his throat.
"Dear God...I was trying to keep us safe from it...From me...From this..."
Lyana's mind reeled, as she sought for control over her traitorous body. But it would not respond, instead melting deeper into his fierce embrace.
"I'm going to have to punish you..." He breathed softly.
His lips crushed hers, stealing the very breath from her throat. If his strong arm hadn't been around her waist, her buckling knees would have left her sprawled on the floor.
His mouth taunted and teased her own with a torrid, fiery dance that left her panting. Her hands crept around his neck by their own violation, pressing her body harder against his.
Her slender hand lifted to sweep his hair back over his ear. His. ear. He was an elf.
She gasped and was losing control. She was losing her mind!
"Lord Greenleaf?"
The quiet voice sounded from the right, and the dark master broke the vibrating contact, a look of utter bewilderment and yes, fear, within his sky blue eyes.
He drew his hand over his mouth, his gaze incredulous as he stared at her.
She could read the expressions like script.
'What the hell is happening to me?!'
The same parade of feelings swirled within her own soul, and she pivoted, fleeing down the dark hall the way she had come.
Legolas watched her go, as the torchlight seeped over the shadows and caressed his disbelieving visage.
"Lord Greenleaf?" Again came the curious voice from around the granite corner.
"What!" He barked, and the young hobbit Peregrin Took stepped into view.
"My liege? What brings you out at this midnight hour?"
The dark lord growled, his eyes snapping with cobalt fury. Peregrin watched carefully as the furious glow dimmed, Legolas's erratic breathing returning.
The red head eyed the shadows, turning back to his leader.
"Who is she?"
The warlord clenched his jaw, a warning signal to his companion.
"Nothing you need concern yourself with, Pippin."
The older man nodded solemnly, negating the leaders subtle threat. As it was his duty to know everything that went on in Enfain Castle, the Kings latest paramour was nothing odd.
But...
He looked at the irate fuming looks the young blackguard sent the shadows. The crimson stain on his tan skin, and the still bright light in his shimmering gaze.
This was not like Legolas Greenleaf.
Maybe this new lover had more to her then met the eye.
Bidding the man goodnight, the hobbit retreated, vowing to take action the following morning.
He left the dark lord to his lonely night, and brooding solace.
Lyana awoke with a start, glancing around the room quickly as to assure her privacy. Only Lady Arwen was there, staring out the window.
She swung her legs over the side of the feather mattress, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hands.
She sighed, blearily finding her way up and stretching.
The girl stumbled over to the elaborate dressing table housed in her chambers, and reached for a comb.
"Oh! Let me!"
The cry had come from Lady Arwen, who rushed over, immaculately dressed and beautifully presented. Eyeing her, Lyana wished for once, that she were not so tall and awkward.
"Let you what?" She groused, and Arwen smiled softly.
"You have the most amazing hair, and it's gotten so long since I last saw you. I would like to arrange it if that is permissible."
Lyana looked in the mirror before her, disappointed that she still looked the same after that kiss...
That kiss!
She gasped, swinging to the other startled lady.
"It wasn't a dream!"
The brunette frowned, worried, and lifted a pale hand to the others brow. "Lady Lyana? Do you feel ill?"
Lyana shook her head absently, bewildered, and gestured to the brushes and combs en mass over the mahogany surface of the table.
"Do as you will..."
Arwen nodded and set to work, arranging the dark hair in a way hers had been so long ago...
Her thoughts drifted as she coiled the strands, remembering a long ago ball...Dancing in the arms of Aragorn...
Lyana's thoughts were also on a man. Only the man was a thousand times more threatening.
She reached a hand to her lips frightened as words came back to mind. Drifting like mist through a breeze.
'Dear God...I was trying to keep us safe from it...From me...From this...'
She closed her eyes, trying desperately to decipher his meaning.
Then she started. What was she thinking! She had just been ravaged by the leader of the dark army! Their Warlord!
She opened her jade orbs, staring straight into the reflection of her blushing self.
Her hair was coiled upon her head, pouring down her neck with shining rivlets. Arwen admired her handiwork, having snapped out of her own reverie.
" 'Tis all a matter of calling that little maid from yesterday to come dress you..." She urged sadly, and Lyana watched her carefully.
"Lady...That man...Lord Aragorn. He is 'your' Lord Aragorn, is he not?"
Arwen turned angrily, her eyes welling with tears. "Nay! He is not!"
She sat carefully on a nearby love seat, her mauve skirts, beaded with tiny pearls, arranging themselves around her.
"He 'was' my Aragorn...A long time ago...He was my Aragorn..."
Arwen turned her face, her profile looking pale and beautiful. Like a fairy carved from ivory.
"My Aragorn is dead." She said coldly, her sweet voice bitter. And Lyana nodded.
A timid knock sounded, Lyana cautiously bid them enter.
A tiny maid, of about 16, entered, and curtsied, a bundle of cloth in her arms.
"me name be Celebrian, an' 'tis I who be assigned to help ye mums dress."
Lyana again nodded, smiling her welcome.
"We are prisoners here, Celebrian. You may call me Lyana."
The maid shook her head fearfully.
"the Lord 'emself tol' me to treat ye all like ladies. 'Tis the only time I ever be addressed by Master Greenleaf, and I do as I be bid."
The russet haired girl swallowed at the mention of his name, her face burning.
"Will you help me dress, Celebrian?"
The girl nodded, eagerly stepping forward with her bundle.
"This be for ye, mum. Master Aragorn tol' me 'twas from the Lord 'emself!"
The young girl unwrapped the treasure, Arwen standing to watch the unveiling.
It was the most beautiful gown Lyana had laid eyes upon, and she sighed at the splendor.
It was pale yellow, delicate lace edging the hem and sleeves. The shoulders would be bared, as the neckline showed, and it was edged with the same lace. A small diamond nestled on the bodice, winked at them.
The flowing sleeves fell to mid thigh, leaving the hands exposed, and delicately shrouded. All were awed by the gown, but Lyana grew fearful.
"Are you certain it is for me?" The general growled inwardly, at the small sounding voice greeting her ears. Curse! But That bastard black knight had best not be seeking her favors!
"Aye! I be sure mum! Lord Aragorn tol' me it be fer the laidy Lyana, from Master Greenleaf!"
"I can not accept it." She closed her eyes and sighed, Arwen watching her steadily.
Celebrian 's mouth fell, her eyes grew wide with fright.
"But ye must milaidy! Or it be me neck at stake!" She hurriedly laid down the dress on Lyana's bed covers, wringing her hands.
"Master would be frightfully angry if'n ye not be down fer the mornin' meal with it!"
Lyana felt pity for the maid, and nodded sadly.
"Fine! But be quick about it! For I shall not be left alone with that blackguard for more then a blink!"
Hurriedly, Celebrian dressed the lady, who gleamed beautifully in her raiment.
" 'Tis a mighty foin sights ye be, fer the sore of eyes, mum!" She beamed, but Lyana hung her head.
"I need nothing from the bastard! Lord Legolas is up to something should he choose me for this..."
Celebrian hurried out, leaving the two alone.
Arwen looked at the magnificent beauty of the general. Surprised at the transformation from maid, to goddess.
"General...I must know what has happened between you. For never have I seen you in this state."
Lyana turned back to the dressing table, resting her palms on it's shining surface.
"How can you ask me that! He is our enemy! He has taken us prisoner! He is defeating our men, taking out people!"
Arwen gestured to their surroundings, to their attire.
"Then why are we not dead? The lord Greenleaf had only to say the word and we would not be standing here. Why has he provided us these chambers, treated us as kin?"
Lyana groaned, her eyes tearful
"I know not! I do not understand him!"
Arwen stepped beside her, grasping her arm.
"I believe the lord treats us as such, because he wishes to acquire our loyalty, Lady Lyana. With our families backing his army...The war is already won."
Lyana gasped, suddenly understanding.
"Aye...That is it! But I understand that he may have some of our allies already behind him..."
Arwen looked to the door, listening as the bell sounding their morning meal was rang.
"Then I fear for our Kingdoms..."
Legolas vented his fury on the newest arrival to the castle, his right hand man, and the rest of those assembled.
He had called them in at dawn, explained the captive situation, then proceeded to send them to the battle room for intensive training.
He turned his head slightly when he heard Aragorn's cry of rage but blocked the quick jab from Pippin's staff.
"Halt!" He roared, and the clanging of weaponry ceased. He turned burning blue eyes to Aragorn, who stood, sword poised above Lord Elrond's throat.
Without breaking eye contact, the black haired knight sheathed his sword, removing his boot from the chest of the relieved brunette.
" 'Tis enough for today, I believe." He muttered, and the sweating men retrieved their respective weapons.
Sergeant Gimli, hefted his battle-axe, slipping its iron handle into the strap behind him. Pippin leaned against his heavy wooden staff, panting against the carved iron snakes intertwining on the oak surface.
Elrond slid his two bejeweled daggers into their sheaths at his hips after lifting himself from the ground, and Aragorn sheathed his large broadsword into the leather cover on his back.
Lord Legolas put away his ebony bow, wiping perspiration from his brow.
"Lord Aragorn..." He warned. "We must remember who is the enemy, and who is the allie..."
Aragorn nodded curtly, apologizing to Lord Elrond, who patted the other mans back.
"It is not your fault, Aragorn. It is all that blood rage getting to your head, is all."
The dark warlord nodded to his company, suddenly wishing to be alone.
"We will adjourn to breakfast. Wash up men. The ladyfolk shall be present, and I would not have your foul odor ruining their meager appetites."
The grumbling men left, and Legolas reached his room, bathing himself before dressing.
His manservant, helped him with his tan tunic and found his matching breeches, organizing them for the lord. After the servant's departure, Legolas rested, thinking of the meal to come.
He had sent Aragorn to gift the general Lyana with the gown, and wondered at his own gesture...As well as his actions of late.
What had been going through his mind!
He thought back, to the eve of last when he watched the wisp of moonlight slide from her bedchamber.
He remembered her pearly skin gleaming in the wash of serenity, as she floated down the dark corridors.
The rage at her direct disobedience was parried only by his gnawing desire for her.
He had wondered absently, as he moved silent behind her, if this was the way Aragorn felt around the Lady Arwen.
As Legolas had stealthily crept behind her, he was gifted with the scent of summer flowers, and warmth crept through his stomach.
He had snatched her creamy body against his own, burning and dying at the contact.
The fear in her shadowy eyes had compelled him to soften his capture with whispered words of nothing and everything he could intelligibly think of.
'Dear God...I was trying to keep us safe from it...From me...From this...'
Her husky whispers only fueled his inner flames, and his desire peaked. He had kissed her sweet and startled lips, his desire reflected in the innocent eyes of the one he embraced. He had run his hand through her auburn hair, and then he saw her ears. She was an elf too. just like him.
And he had lost himself.
It was if a soft light had filled his body, softly dimming the flames like dandelion seeds floating in a summer breeze.
Legolas had craved her, ached for her like none before.
He had been about to do something...He knew not what, when the damned hobbit arrived, and the elf escaped.
The warlord shuddered, his shaky breath the only sound in the silent room.
He went to the dining hall, sending a servant to ring the bell for the morning fare.
Then, he waited.
With my stories, you have to think a little deeper. O_o
THIS IS IMPORTANT
Earth: Fanteore Air: Winzar Fire/Ice: Flaydrix Water: Aquisan Light: Delana Storm: DarunisHealing: Lifana Holy: Blymur Electricity: Shaxen Ice: Frezar Mind: Gurashi Fire: Raifal
Summary: It was a war, of good and evil, god and sin. It was a battle to the finish, a fight to the death, and the combatants were to take no prisoners. But on a field of blood, At the break of blackened day, two oppositions would collide, and first sight would lead to a losing victory Prisoners would be taken. Only in the war of love and hate, who is the captive within?
Part One B/ Captive Hearts
"Lord Aragorn?" The black haired man turned to the voice, breaking him from his memories.
"Yes? Oh, I apologize Legolas, my mind was else where."
Legolas watched his right hand carefully. Gauging his reaction.
"I know, Aragorn. About the girl, the brunette you had...She's the one you left behind, no?"
Aragorn watched the lord in return, his keen black eyes wary. "Yes, she is Sir."
Legolas shrugged. "Why do you not go to her? She is under your hand now."
Aragorn frowned.
"She betrayed me, Legolas, she became engaged to another. Lord Boromir."
"She thought you dead for four years." Was the logical reply.
Aragorn began to pace, much to the amusement of the Dark Lord.
"I am also on the opposite side of a war! I cannot just up and tell her 'I joined the enemy, betrayed my country and my love. Let us be together again.' She shall hate me forever!"
Legolas's eyes began to glow again with the light that always came when hard emotions hit.
"Consider this Aragorn, fate has brought your love to you once more. I have never been in love. You have the chance to love again."
Aragorn stopped pacing, glaring at Legolas. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because, my friend, I may be the villain, but I DO feel, and I want my only loyal comrade to be happy. Now go get ready for dinner. We shall invite the 'guests', and see what comes of it."
Aragorn nodded thoughtfully, before leaving the room.
Legolas turned to watch the passing sky from the balcony. 'Love...'
He thought of the odd feeling that the Lady Lyana had stirred within him. She was a lovely creature...He stood abruptly, and ran a hand through his lengthy blonde hair.
"Lady Lyana...perhaps..." He whispered thoughtfully, before leaving for dinner.
She gazed at the rich tapestries upon the dark stone walls, depicting stories of past battles and victories. The hall was warm, the velvet beneath her slippered feet soft.
Lyana's hair had been pulled into an elegant coiffeur, piled atop her head artfully, threaded through with pale, shining pearls. Her slender body was clothed in a mint green confection, the bodice shrouded in white lace and pearls. The off the shoulder sleeves fell to her wrists, ending in lace cuffs. The cinched waist led to a simple pastel green skirt, which also ended in lace. Lady Lyana had never felt more beautiful and unable to move, in her entire life.
Lady Arwen sadly joined Lyana in the hallway. Her own shimmering brown hair was drawn up coyly, with pins and jeweled combs. She wore a sky blue gown, the neckline square cut and simple. Her curvy figure was accented by the gowns simplicity, and her beauty awed Lyana.
"'Tis alright Lady Arwen, all shall be well in the end."
Secretly, she wondered if this dinner would lead to death. If the food was poisoned, or maybe the gowns. She didn't feel any burning though, so she felt a little safer. When dealing with the enemy, you could only relax so much, and Legolas Greenleaf was the most notorious enemy the Light kingdom had ever faced.
The eight ladies were led into a large chamber, filled with candles and lit by the moon filtering through the large, glass windows. It was beautiful really, but their fear kept them from enjoying it.
"Welcome Milady's..."
A calm, cold voice echoed through the hall, and Lyana recognized the form of their enemy in the dim light.
He sat, breathtakingly handsome, at the head of the long mahogany table. behind him, in the shadows, stood Lord Aragorn, and Lyana could feel his eyes on Arwen, his stare was so intense.
She cast a glance at the other girl, finding her staring back at Aragorn, tears in her eyes.
The women took the proffered seats, and nervously whispered. When Legolas spoke, he was watching Lyana, an odd fire in his gaze stirring Lyana's chest.
"I trust you have been well kept, as you shall be personally cared for by my comrade, Aragorn."
He flicked a glance at Arwen, who looked away sadly.
"I have several rules however, which shall not be imposed upon."
The women's whispering ceased, as they nervously, or tearfully, forced themselves to listen to their captor.
"You will not go, where I say not. You will not venture forth past the gates."
The women eyed him fearfully, as his blue eyes began to glow, making the imposing figure seem all the more powerful.
"You shall not form less then genteel relations with any member of my kingdom. I will not have bastards roaming my halls. I forbid you to leave past midnight, for my protection will not extend past then.
Any breach of conduct will result in immediate discipline, and I doubt any of you 'women' have the spine for it."
Servants bearing food-laden trays entered and began laying out platters of meats and delicacies. Their captor and Lord turned, summoning his dark protector from the shadows.
"Come Lord Aragorn. Join our victorious repast. You have earned it..."
Arwen looked away, her silver fork glittering against the empty china.
It was a fortnight later, when the shivering moonlight slid like cold cream over the velvet carpets. The inky blackness absorbing the stars above comforted her as she padded from the doorway, her auburn-brown hair cascading down her back.
Lyana crept stealthily down the empty corridor, aghast at the lack of guards posted about the halls.
Was the man so arrogant he thought they would sit and do nothing?
She turned a corner quickly, her light steps covering the ground like a back tiger. Her long legs spun as she arced around a corner, the cold stones sending shivers down her thinly clad body.
"I told you...My protection does not extend after midnight."
The girl was accosted from behind, as a pair of strong hands painfully wrenched her left arm behind her, causing her to hunch over in pain.
The silky whisper came far to close to her neck, as Legolas Greenleaf's warm breath tingled down her spin.
His strong grip loosened, but he did not release her. Instead, spinning her around, bringing her into jarring contact with his hard body.
Lyana gasped, as all her soft curves met the unyielding planes of his sturdy build. The dark lords burning blue gaze smoldered in the shadowy corridor, and the general's breath caught.
"You should have listened, lady Lyana..."
"How did you know!" She gasped, sharply.
He smirked in the languid darkness. "I would have been disappointed, had you not..."
His handsome face was mere inches from hers, his smooth lips trailing over her skin. The new sensations caused her to arch against his body, and a ragged groan, the likes of which she had never heard, was torn from his throat.
"Dear God...I was trying to keep us safe from it...From me...From this..."
Lyana's mind reeled, as she sought for control over her traitorous body. But it would not respond, instead melting deeper into his fierce embrace.
"I'm going to have to punish you..." He breathed softly.
His lips crushed hers, stealing the very breath from her throat. If his strong arm hadn't been around her waist, her buckling knees would have left her sprawled on the floor.
His mouth taunted and teased her own with a torrid, fiery dance that left her panting. Her hands crept around his neck by their own violation, pressing her body harder against his.
Her slender hand lifted to sweep his hair back over his ear. His. ear. He was an elf.
She gasped and was losing control. She was losing her mind!
"Lord Greenleaf?"
The quiet voice sounded from the right, and the dark master broke the vibrating contact, a look of utter bewilderment and yes, fear, within his sky blue eyes.
He drew his hand over his mouth, his gaze incredulous as he stared at her.
She could read the expressions like script.
'What the hell is happening to me?!'
The same parade of feelings swirled within her own soul, and she pivoted, fleeing down the dark hall the way she had come.
Legolas watched her go, as the torchlight seeped over the shadows and caressed his disbelieving visage.
"Lord Greenleaf?" Again came the curious voice from around the granite corner.
"What!" He barked, and the young hobbit Peregrin Took stepped into view.
"My liege? What brings you out at this midnight hour?"
The dark lord growled, his eyes snapping with cobalt fury. Peregrin watched carefully as the furious glow dimmed, Legolas's erratic breathing returning.
The red head eyed the shadows, turning back to his leader.
"Who is she?"
The warlord clenched his jaw, a warning signal to his companion.
"Nothing you need concern yourself with, Pippin."
The older man nodded solemnly, negating the leaders subtle threat. As it was his duty to know everything that went on in Enfain Castle, the Kings latest paramour was nothing odd.
But...
He looked at the irate fuming looks the young blackguard sent the shadows. The crimson stain on his tan skin, and the still bright light in his shimmering gaze.
This was not like Legolas Greenleaf.
Maybe this new lover had more to her then met the eye.
Bidding the man goodnight, the hobbit retreated, vowing to take action the following morning.
He left the dark lord to his lonely night, and brooding solace.
Lyana awoke with a start, glancing around the room quickly as to assure her privacy. Only Lady Arwen was there, staring out the window.
She swung her legs over the side of the feather mattress, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hands.
She sighed, blearily finding her way up and stretching.
The girl stumbled over to the elaborate dressing table housed in her chambers, and reached for a comb.
"Oh! Let me!"
The cry had come from Lady Arwen, who rushed over, immaculately dressed and beautifully presented. Eyeing her, Lyana wished for once, that she were not so tall and awkward.
"Let you what?" She groused, and Arwen smiled softly.
"You have the most amazing hair, and it's gotten so long since I last saw you. I would like to arrange it if that is permissible."
Lyana looked in the mirror before her, disappointed that she still looked the same after that kiss...
That kiss!
She gasped, swinging to the other startled lady.
"It wasn't a dream!"
The brunette frowned, worried, and lifted a pale hand to the others brow. "Lady Lyana? Do you feel ill?"
Lyana shook her head absently, bewildered, and gestured to the brushes and combs en mass over the mahogany surface of the table.
"Do as you will..."
Arwen nodded and set to work, arranging the dark hair in a way hers had been so long ago...
Her thoughts drifted as she coiled the strands, remembering a long ago ball...Dancing in the arms of Aragorn...
Lyana's thoughts were also on a man. Only the man was a thousand times more threatening.
She reached a hand to her lips frightened as words came back to mind. Drifting like mist through a breeze.
'Dear God...I was trying to keep us safe from it...From me...From this...'
She closed her eyes, trying desperately to decipher his meaning.
Then she started. What was she thinking! She had just been ravaged by the leader of the dark army! Their Warlord!
She opened her jade orbs, staring straight into the reflection of her blushing self.
Her hair was coiled upon her head, pouring down her neck with shining rivlets. Arwen admired her handiwork, having snapped out of her own reverie.
" 'Tis all a matter of calling that little maid from yesterday to come dress you..." She urged sadly, and Lyana watched her carefully.
"Lady...That man...Lord Aragorn. He is 'your' Lord Aragorn, is he not?"
Arwen turned angrily, her eyes welling with tears. "Nay! He is not!"
She sat carefully on a nearby love seat, her mauve skirts, beaded with tiny pearls, arranging themselves around her.
"He 'was' my Aragorn...A long time ago...He was my Aragorn..."
Arwen turned her face, her profile looking pale and beautiful. Like a fairy carved from ivory.
"My Aragorn is dead." She said coldly, her sweet voice bitter. And Lyana nodded.
A timid knock sounded, Lyana cautiously bid them enter.
A tiny maid, of about 16, entered, and curtsied, a bundle of cloth in her arms.
"me name be Celebrian, an' 'tis I who be assigned to help ye mums dress."
Lyana again nodded, smiling her welcome.
"We are prisoners here, Celebrian. You may call me Lyana."
The maid shook her head fearfully.
"the Lord 'emself tol' me to treat ye all like ladies. 'Tis the only time I ever be addressed by Master Greenleaf, and I do as I be bid."
The russet haired girl swallowed at the mention of his name, her face burning.
"Will you help me dress, Celebrian?"
The girl nodded, eagerly stepping forward with her bundle.
"This be for ye, mum. Master Aragorn tol' me 'twas from the Lord 'emself!"
The young girl unwrapped the treasure, Arwen standing to watch the unveiling.
It was the most beautiful gown Lyana had laid eyes upon, and she sighed at the splendor.
It was pale yellow, delicate lace edging the hem and sleeves. The shoulders would be bared, as the neckline showed, and it was edged with the same lace. A small diamond nestled on the bodice, winked at them.
The flowing sleeves fell to mid thigh, leaving the hands exposed, and delicately shrouded. All were awed by the gown, but Lyana grew fearful.
"Are you certain it is for me?" The general growled inwardly, at the small sounding voice greeting her ears. Curse! But That bastard black knight had best not be seeking her favors!
"Aye! I be sure mum! Lord Aragorn tol' me it be fer the laidy Lyana, from Master Greenleaf!"
"I can not accept it." She closed her eyes and sighed, Arwen watching her steadily.
Celebrian 's mouth fell, her eyes grew wide with fright.
"But ye must milaidy! Or it be me neck at stake!" She hurriedly laid down the dress on Lyana's bed covers, wringing her hands.
"Master would be frightfully angry if'n ye not be down fer the mornin' meal with it!"
Lyana felt pity for the maid, and nodded sadly.
"Fine! But be quick about it! For I shall not be left alone with that blackguard for more then a blink!"
Hurriedly, Celebrian dressed the lady, who gleamed beautifully in her raiment.
" 'Tis a mighty foin sights ye be, fer the sore of eyes, mum!" She beamed, but Lyana hung her head.
"I need nothing from the bastard! Lord Legolas is up to something should he choose me for this..."
Celebrian hurried out, leaving the two alone.
Arwen looked at the magnificent beauty of the general. Surprised at the transformation from maid, to goddess.
"General...I must know what has happened between you. For never have I seen you in this state."
Lyana turned back to the dressing table, resting her palms on it's shining surface.
"How can you ask me that! He is our enemy! He has taken us prisoner! He is defeating our men, taking out people!"
Arwen gestured to their surroundings, to their attire.
"Then why are we not dead? The lord Greenleaf had only to say the word and we would not be standing here. Why has he provided us these chambers, treated us as kin?"
Lyana groaned, her eyes tearful
"I know not! I do not understand him!"
Arwen stepped beside her, grasping her arm.
"I believe the lord treats us as such, because he wishes to acquire our loyalty, Lady Lyana. With our families backing his army...The war is already won."
Lyana gasped, suddenly understanding.
"Aye...That is it! But I understand that he may have some of our allies already behind him..."
Arwen looked to the door, listening as the bell sounding their morning meal was rang.
"Then I fear for our Kingdoms..."
Legolas vented his fury on the newest arrival to the castle, his right hand man, and the rest of those assembled.
He had called them in at dawn, explained the captive situation, then proceeded to send them to the battle room for intensive training.
He turned his head slightly when he heard Aragorn's cry of rage but blocked the quick jab from Pippin's staff.
"Halt!" He roared, and the clanging of weaponry ceased. He turned burning blue eyes to Aragorn, who stood, sword poised above Lord Elrond's throat.
Without breaking eye contact, the black haired knight sheathed his sword, removing his boot from the chest of the relieved brunette.
" 'Tis enough for today, I believe." He muttered, and the sweating men retrieved their respective weapons.
Sergeant Gimli, hefted his battle-axe, slipping its iron handle into the strap behind him. Pippin leaned against his heavy wooden staff, panting against the carved iron snakes intertwining on the oak surface.
Elrond slid his two bejeweled daggers into their sheaths at his hips after lifting himself from the ground, and Aragorn sheathed his large broadsword into the leather cover on his back.
Lord Legolas put away his ebony bow, wiping perspiration from his brow.
"Lord Aragorn..." He warned. "We must remember who is the enemy, and who is the allie..."
Aragorn nodded curtly, apologizing to Lord Elrond, who patted the other mans back.
"It is not your fault, Aragorn. It is all that blood rage getting to your head, is all."
The dark warlord nodded to his company, suddenly wishing to be alone.
"We will adjourn to breakfast. Wash up men. The ladyfolk shall be present, and I would not have your foul odor ruining their meager appetites."
The grumbling men left, and Legolas reached his room, bathing himself before dressing.
His manservant, helped him with his tan tunic and found his matching breeches, organizing them for the lord. After the servant's departure, Legolas rested, thinking of the meal to come.
He had sent Aragorn to gift the general Lyana with the gown, and wondered at his own gesture...As well as his actions of late.
What had been going through his mind!
He thought back, to the eve of last when he watched the wisp of moonlight slide from her bedchamber.
He remembered her pearly skin gleaming in the wash of serenity, as she floated down the dark corridors.
The rage at her direct disobedience was parried only by his gnawing desire for her.
He had wondered absently, as he moved silent behind her, if this was the way Aragorn felt around the Lady Arwen.
As Legolas had stealthily crept behind her, he was gifted with the scent of summer flowers, and warmth crept through his stomach.
He had snatched her creamy body against his own, burning and dying at the contact.
The fear in her shadowy eyes had compelled him to soften his capture with whispered words of nothing and everything he could intelligibly think of.
'Dear God...I was trying to keep us safe from it...From me...From this...'
Her husky whispers only fueled his inner flames, and his desire peaked. He had kissed her sweet and startled lips, his desire reflected in the innocent eyes of the one he embraced. He had run his hand through her auburn hair, and then he saw her ears. She was an elf too. just like him.
And he had lost himself.
It was if a soft light had filled his body, softly dimming the flames like dandelion seeds floating in a summer breeze.
Legolas had craved her, ached for her like none before.
He had been about to do something...He knew not what, when the damned hobbit arrived, and the elf escaped.
The warlord shuddered, his shaky breath the only sound in the silent room.
He went to the dining hall, sending a servant to ring the bell for the morning fare.
Then, he waited.