Author's Note: The usual disclaimer
My sincerest apologies everyone, but the past two weeks have literally been hell, some of you probably are experiencing the same. That is why it has taken me longer to update. Sorry about the wait, I made this chapter longer to compensate. It's the longest of the bunch so far. Different than the others, you'll see. The relationship between Legolas and Raveyn changes slightly.
I hope you enjoy it, and to everyone who had question or concern or just simply a lovely comment, I have responded at the end. Thank you.
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Narrator (Legolas) POV
"You mean nothing to me, and I mean that with all due respect"
She had made that devastatingly clear. He stood up, his stance proud as sleek slow anger built; the humming of the high tide.
"You mistake base lust for love?"
He could hear her mocking laughter even now, echoing cruelly in the lovely dark misted trees. She had lashed out venomously, and he had sat incomprehensibly as each word twisted like poison in the air.
Wind rippled against his clothing as he stood there in silent contemplation, his eyes two blue moons reflecting the lighted jagged trees.
In his mind's eye he saw them both. One with skin of the purest white veined marble and masses of black thick curling hair. The other a mere wisp, a shadow fog that crept across the ground on cat feet. Why? He didn't know. He didn't know….
He stared at the dark clouds drifting across the moon, and shook his head resignedly as the moon gradually faded away, soon becoming only a vague misplaced circle in a vast sky.
She had casually appeared at the back of his mind that one brilliant afternoon and decided to stay. She had arched her spine, those golden tiger eyes gleaming, arms lifting gracefully and decided to dance across his soul. With each mincing step, each cutting word, each woven lie he was inexorably, inexplicably pulled into those slim arms.
He had hurt her. And then he had snapped at her. And then he had teased her.
Ahh Legolas, you certainly have a way with the ladies.
Rubbing his eyes tiredly he sighed.
Raveyn's POV
I went straight to bed, and fell asleep. I did not cry and I did not dream that night.
I should have been content.
(Dawn)
Dawn. Bloody dawn. I was awake at dawn, yet again, and the events of yesterday, which had receded to the back of my mind rushed full force to the fore, and my irritation increased.
Some damn idiot had blown the trumpet signaling the beginning of the ride and my ears were still ringing with that horrible blowing sound. Scrambling out of my tent fully intending to shoot the bastard, I found servants scrambling across the campsite, while the elves watched in disdain; they were all fastidiously dressed and impeccably clean. Hair brushed, clothes neat, weapons gathered and mounts saddled, I stared in disbelief. Dawn was barely brushing across the dark sky and they were already mounted and ready? When the hell did they get up?
A servant screeched to a halt in front of me and stared stupidly.
"You're not ready," bug eyes said, his vulture like nose tweaking with indignation.
"How acute of you," I replied drily.
"You have to get ready immediately we join the elves today." He said and stumbled away hurriedly spider veined hands attempting to maintain a secure hold on his burgeoning equipment. He slipped, and I watched in satisfaction as everything scattered.
We were going to join the elves today. How nice that somebody neglected to inform me of this little decision. I suppose it was too much to ask for him to courteously inquire if I wanted to die today. Perhaps a "Where would you like to be buried" or even "I will try to find all your body pieces." No. Oh no. Lets go off now. Yes you are still suffering from prolonged exposure to Aegnir. Yes you realize I must have contracted several diseases from the tryst of last night. Yes you haven't had centuries to practice hunting dangerous game. But that won't be a problem. You won't feel any pain.
I stared coldly at him; he had just ridden down from the front to inspect our meager progress. He looked distant today. Shoulders rigid, and back straight his hands rested casually on the pommel. I started when his head snapped, and his eyes cracked across the camp site as they rested on mine, for a beat and then slid away.
I brushed my hair back and casually arranged my tent, and started assembling the gear I would need. Servants crisscrossed tripping over themselves in their hurry; one sent a stack of tin pans crashing on to the head of his unfortunate companions. Mules were running off with their owners saddled backwards. Some were being dragged along the ground their foot tangled in the stirrup. One came screaming my way and I smoothly sidestepped the terrified animal and its even more terrified rider. I glanced at Stubborn, tethered to the tree and he looked at me, bored. I pulled him up with soothing words and carefully brushed his mane as the mania behind me rose to a crescendo.
I calmly mounted and stared in amusement as everybody ran around in a panic. I felt infinitely better. Misery loves company.
Legolas was looking at me again and I smiled and nodded graciously. Asshole.
Cassandra was looking at me too. I felt incredibly popular. Giving her a little wave and a giggle I blew her a kiss. Please, I thought to whatever divine power might have been listening, please let her die first. And please let me be there to watch.
Then the company set off, the elves tearing across with their thorough bred mounts, and the humans disorganized harried and flustered tried to follow. I took the rear and we plodded along slowly. Crossing my arms over Stubborn's neck, I went to sleep.
(Indeterminate number of hours later)
I felt a prickling between my shoulder blades, and opened bleary eyes. Stubborn snorted as my arms lifted from his neck. My back and shoulders hurt from the cramped position I had been in.
I looked up and met furious azure eyes.
"What?" I snapped adding a belated "highness."
His fists were clenched tight on the reigns and he was burning holes into my head. Even his damn horse was pissed.
"Raveyn," he said slowly, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he clenched his teeth, "tell me what you see in front of you."
I looked ahead and was confused. What the hell was he off about?
"I see nothing," I said and waved my hand at the scenery.
And then it dawned on me.
He was really really mad. "Yes. Precisely. Nothing."
I said stupidly, "Am I really that far back?"
"Four miles," he said seething through clenched teeth.
Woops.
He leaned over and gripped my chin between his fingers hard, "Do you know what kind of creatures dwell in these woods." His breath tingled lingeringly on my skin, and warm mint enveloped me.
"Death would have been the least of your worries," he continued.
Well that was comforting. That's nice. What does that say about you genius? Death would have been the last of your worries? And you decide to go hunt things that have "Death will be the last of your worries" written on them?
And then I realized something. He'd been worried about me. The sun felt warmer on my skin.
"I apologize highness for my laxness. I will catch up," and I prodded Stubborn and he set off at a trot, grumbling the whole time.
"May I inquire what you are doing." He said in irritation.
"Catching up," I said matter of factly over my shoulder.
"Stubborn doesn't like to gallop, so I have to trot," I said quickly and kept trotting.
His silence was palpable.
My only warning was the staccato of dull hoofbeats before his arm wrapped tightly around my waist, and he lifted me out of my saddle and placed me securely in front of him.
"What are y-" and then he wrapped his fist around Stubborn'reigns and with a slight nudging of his knees his horse took off.
I had a glimpse of my mules terrified expression before the wind started whipping past us. We were going really fast, his horse dodging the trees so rapidly, I felt that a misstep would etch me permanently into one of those trees. As he jumped smoothly over small bubbling creaks, and not so small hedges, panic bloomed.
"Legolas STOP! YOU ARE GOING TO FAST! WHAT THE HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLL" The last word was drawn out in a scream as he let Stubborn's reigns go and with a slight nudge of his knees into his horse's flank we shot off, faster than before, the landscape now only a dizzy blur.
My arms went around his waist and I shut my eyes tight, heart in my throat as he pushed his horse relentlessly on.
The sounds of the forest blended into one long indistinct whrrrr and all I could distinctly hear, like a heart beat was the rhythm of the horse's hooves, as he flew over the carpeted forest floor. I glanced up at him and his features were lit with exultation. His face was set and his eyes darted as they scanned the pits and holes in the forest floor, and casually with a slight pull of the reins he lead his stallion surely over them. Hawk eyes. I barely had time to develop the direction of my thoughts when we were brought to a rearing stop and I pitched forward losing my precarious balance. His arms closed around me and my momentum was stayed as I was brought to press flat against his chest.
"You-you-…..you-" My mouth open and closed as I tried to formulate my distress and deliver it to him in a manner that would make damn well sure he would never do it again. Wriggling madly, I turned and slammed hands against his chest fully intending to shove him off.
"Yes?" His voice was calm, but underneath my hands I could feel his chest rise and fall rapidly, as his features lilted ecstatically. He had enjoyed it. I was flabbergasted, and his eyes were amused as they gazed at me.
"You did that on purpose!" I said accusingly.
"Yes I did," he said, briefly lowering his eyes to where my hands had clenched in his shirt.
"Don't do it again," my voice was prim and clipped, and I gave a little squawk as he brought his arms tighter around me, and rested his chin on the top of my head.
"I can't promise that little one," he said, his baritone voice rumbling against my back.
I was put out. I had just been taken on the most petrifying ride of my life, my mule had probably collapsed trying to keep up with us, and was either eaten or lost, and he was holding me to close.
I squirmed and he merely tightened his grip, not moving his chin from atop my head.
I could feel his warmth at my back and the pulsing beat of his heart. The contours of muscle were relaxed, but still whipcord lean.
No sense fighting I thought. He was too strong anyway.
I probably wouldn't be able to get away.
And it would be disrespectful.
I might as well endure it. No harm in sitting here for a while. He wanted to.
No telling how long we might stay this way I thought rationally.
I might as well try to get comfortable.
And then slowly, breath by breath, I relaxed and settled in against him, my head against his throat, and my waist walled in by his arms.
I glanced at the hands wrapped around my waist.
They were nice hands. You could tell a lot about an individual from their hands.
The palm was wide and strong, with long slender fingers that belied their spidery strength. I reached out on impulse, and brushed a line from his wrist to the tip of one finger. I had the satisfaction of feeling him start behind me. Taking one of them I turned it over and traced the calloused ridges, and the curling fingers with their neat clean nails. He had beautiful hands, I thought musingly gazing at the humming landscape around us. The light shone down, filtered by the trees overhead, and leaving smatterings of shadow across the earthy moss covered ground. Everything was painted in shades of gold, brilliant colors that I had forgotten. Or perhaps tried to forget. Memories flitted like fairy wings inside my head, and in an effort to repress them, I questioned Legolas.
"Why do you paint?" I asked, moved by curiosity. I had mulled over the drawings I had spilled across his room floor for some time. Since he was holding me hostage I was entitled to ask.
He was silent for a while, thinking it over. Or perhaps he was asleep? He was so still, and I couldn't see his face. As I was about to turn and see what exactly was the matter, he softly spoke, air brushing against my ear, "I don't know."
That was it. He had thought laboriously only to mutter three words?
"You don't know. Highness have I ever told you how fascinating conversation is with you?" I said cynically, echoing his words to me a few days ago.
He shifted behind me, arms still stiflingly close, and spoke again, hesitantly as if he really didn't know, "Perhaps…perhaps the challenge of drawing life," he paused, thoughtfully, "Drawing it so well, so perfectly that even inspiration would be jealous."
I scoffed, "Challenge? You paint to challenge yourself?"
He hesitated again.
I continued relentlessly, "That's it? Just to beat nature? That's why you paint?"
I stopped, thinking rapidly whether I should just dive in or leave off before I got myself into trouble. Decision made, I continued. I never seemed to be able to resist an argument where he was concerned.
"Highness I saw your drawings. They are magnificent, superb technical detail. You detailed everything with an inhuman precision. But that was it. That was all you did. You captured nothing of the life of what you were trying to draw. Nothing of its spirit. The people you drew had no personality. They were magnificent copies, but an artist doesn't copy. An artist sees, and paints what he sees. He sees in the haggard folds of an old woman's face, not simply time pulling, but care and love and pain, brought by the passing years. He sees life in her eyes not simply swirled pots of color. Not like you. You may copy her iris exactly, but another painter without your exactitude will capture that elusive something that defines that woman."
I turned my head and stared knowingly at him, spoiling for a fight. I was getting too comfortable. He flashed a wide genuine smile, with teeth shining brilliantly against those wicked delicately shaped lips
"You don't approve of my paintings I take it?" He said sweetly.
"I've seen better," I said, disturbed by his extraordinary good mood, and wondered why we were even having this conversation.
"Really?" he said smoothly, and then causally asked, "Where?"
I stilled. He waited patiently as my mind frantically slammed room after room. I shouldn't. I should just stop. There was no point. He didn't need to know. The afternoon had addled my mind too much.
Oh dear. You are actually thinking about telling him where. Dear me. Did you by any chance forget last night? No? Let me refresh your memory. He had SEX with another WOMAN. No no. He had SEX with the Queen of Hell. There that's better.
Oh shutup I thought irritably.
He gave me a slight nudge and I could hear the smile in his voice as he gently said, "Don't think too hard. I wouldn't want you to strain yourself."
My lips reluctantly quirked.
There was no harm in it….it had been so long ago. If I changed it a little bit and left out things…
"There was on old man in the village I grew up," I said carefully, checking my words, "who painted. I remember I asked him what he did for a living once, and he looked at me as if I were a foolish child and said, 'I paint.' That was it. I said, 'That's all?' And he didn't look at me. Merely stared at the canvas, eyes happy and said rustily, "Yes.' That was all he did. Other men worked in the fields or tried their hands at trading; their desire for money the overriding aspect in all their work. But he just painted. And that was enough."
I put my hands to my eyes and shook my head trying to see the brilliance of his colors again. Trying to smell the odor of fresh paint that permeated his clothes, his skin. And I saw him, clear as day, standing in his studio, his smock covered in color, and his quirky odd smile crooked.
Legolas gave me my space. He didn't push me, or speak.
After a brief pause, I continued.
"He lived to paint. That was his life, and as long as he painted, he was content. He was the happiest man I had ever met. No loved ones, no one to care for him, but every day without fail, I would walk by his hut, and there he would be. Old and crouched, eyes squinting at the canvas, oblivious to the world. Occasionally I would sit by him and he would turn to me and smile conspiratorially. As if we knew something the rest of the world didn't."
Those were some of the happiest days of my life I thought, as I sat comfortably against Legolas. The scene before me blurred slightly and I blinked willing the tears back.
I remembered one event and gave a laugh as it fluttered to the surface, rising gently like an underwater lily; "One day, I think it was in spring sometime," I motioned with my hands, "one of the dogs that ran loose about the village, was accidently chased into his studio by the children, and ran straight into the table holding all the colors he had mixed for that day. We were all horrified but he just stared humorously at the dog, his fur spotted with reds, and yellows, and said profoundly, 'My masterpiece.'"
Legolas chuckled, "He was wise. I would have liked to have known him."
I curved in closer to him, seeking his warmth as joy and pain coursed through me. I would have liked you to have met him too, I thought pained. He would have liked you. He would have thought you were mule headed and silly with your principals and stiffness, but he would have liked you.
"Yes he was. Wise, patient, and kind. His paintings held pieces of his soul. That is life highness. That is painting life."
And then we were both silent, an odd peace settling between us.
Wise and patient and kind.
You would have like my father Legolas. He was a good man. Too good.
In his arms, on that restless horse, with the sun beating down on us I was content.
And then my idyllic peace was shattered and blown away as easily as a sand tableau.
"So she has been found. My dear you really ought to try to keep up. There are so many dangerous creatures that prowl about, you might have been easily snapped up," Cassandra said, her stance and features expressing concern as she said snapped.
I had started when I first heard her voice; ice sliding down my back before I retorted snidely,
"Your concern for my well being, my lady, as always warms the cockles of my heart," I said, slipping off the horse, and brushing myself off.
I really hated her voice.
"Really highness, the girl is not an asset. Why did you bring her along?" She said tossing her hair back laughing.
Haha. Funny funny.
"Because I chose to," his tone was terse as he looked at her with eyes like chilled winds circling sharp mountain peaks
I looked at him in surprise.
She looked at him in surprise.
We both stared openly.
Then Stubborn came crashing onto the scene panting. The poor thing's tongue was hanging out of its mouth, and it was gulping in long deep breaths as it looked at me reproachfully. I surreptitiously pointed at Legolas.
Cassandra spoke, her head bowed; "Yes highness." And she sharply reined her horse to the side and galloped away, her horse neighing furiously.
He watched her leave, and then turned to me, his features lynx like as he regarded me coolly; "Do not fall behind again."
I nodded dumbly and watched him leave.
I stared stupidly at Stubborn, and looking into his accepting limpid eyes was moved to ask, "What just happened Stubborn?"
Stubborn nodded sagely, turned in the other direction and started trotting away.
Shit.
Legolas POV
I mused as I rode to the front. She had shared part of her past with him. He felt an absurd ridiculous happiness. Why it mattered to him that an inconsequential girl had chosen to talk to him about matters personal to her was baffling.
And how had it started?
By a foolish exhilarating ride through twisted trees. She was sleeping on her blessed mule. I couldn't believe my eyes. My mind had conjured images of a mangled body, empty eyes, or worse- nothing at all. And then I found her sleeping peacefully, her mule prodding along at a pace a tortoise would have scoffed at.
I smiled.
It had felt good, that ride; the wind, the speed, the danger. The girl curled in my arms.
And then the moments of quiet before she decided to toss away my efforts at drawing, scrawling 'No Soul' across them.
Fascinating.
It had been so simple I thought amazed. The choice had been so simple. As her voice lullabyed over me everything else melted away into triviality, and there was no choice to be made. I couldn't explain it, and I didn't want to try. Somethings you didn't need to explain or analyze. They just were.
Cassandra rode up along side me, tears in her eyes.
Guilt stabbed at me. I had been short with her unfairly.
"Highness if I have done anything to offend you.." Her eyes spoke eloquently, and the elves gathered at the forefront tilted their heads curiously towards us. I stared blankly at them, and they quickly turned around.
"Cassandra, if any apologies need to be said, they are mine alone to speak. Please, let us both enjoy the rest of the afternoon, and leave the past behind us" I spoke sincerely and her eyes warmed as she clasped a delicate hand over mine.
We rode in silence across the forested plateau. Rocks jutted across the crowded landscape, and it had become rather difficult to scout ahead. The party was relaxed, laughter drifting across the air. It was a generally pleasant afternoon.
Perhaps that was to blame. Our guards were down, and none of us saw or heard any danger. And that was precisely when they attacked; huge bloodied and snarling my blood ran cold as I saw muscle ripple across haunches that already bore brutal scars. There were three and they scattered us, as horses dashed terrified out of the way, hooves slicing the stagnant air. The wolves of Mordor.
Narrator's POV
They were old hands at this, those three. Not inexperienced, and most certainly not needing any rider to control them. They worked like a pack, which was unusual in and of itself, a sort of intelligence that had been lacking in the rest. These were heavily muscled, their fur matted with dried blood and mud that had caked in the afternoon heat. Their jaws hung hungrily open, sharp heavy teeth set in a jaw strong and large enough to snap a troll's leg.
They had circled the entire party in a triangle formation, the first landing at the head of the party, and the rest towards the sides. Arrows flew like locusts into the air, Legolas smoothly drew two and sent them slipping through the air, stiletto like, to pierce the brute's eyes.
He twisted in agony, his head tossing aside a careless elf who had gotten too close. Arrows dotted his hide like porcupine quills and he slowly sank to the ground. The second fared no better, having landed towards the middle, he was howling in agony as an arrow buried itself deep into his snout. Blood dripped and he snorted as he tried to breathe. He was brought down with no effort.
The third however, the third had landed towards the rear of the party; where the humans had congregated, and blood was splashed across the trees; it looked as if the earth had opened and bled that day. He managed to snap one of the humans in two, tossing his body into the air like a rag doll, or a cat with mice.
The attendants had scattered in mindless horror, their eyes wide with shock, and voices screaming melting with the wolves' howls; a cacophony that could be heard like some ghastly symphony from miles away. Mules would slam unseeingly into rocks or trees, and humans were trampled like grass into the ground. The elves quickly circled him; Legolas clipping staccato orders and Cassandra drew her black curved bow quickly again.
She loved it. She loved the death and the pain and the battle around her. She lived for the hunt; and she thrilled in the kill. As her horse pranced nervously she reigned it in with a quick clamp of her thighs and sent her arrow whistling into the air. She took in the carnage, and delight coursed through those limpid innocent violet eyes. She couldn't hide the pleasure that arced her smile, or the twisted beatific expression on her face. The humans were dying painful piddling deaths, little blood stains on the pine scented floor. It was magnificent. A spot of blood had landed warm and silky on her pale skin, just above her lip.
The wolf barbed with arrows, glared with red hot eyes, dulled by pain at his executioners and dashing towards them, leapt across the large rock face, and dashed away to freedom, his prints pooled with his own blood. He would die soon she thought unhurriedly, and the rest came to the same conclusion. They let him go and turned to what was left of the party. Cassandra's tongue darted out, pale pink and snake like, to quickly lick the blood away. She let the faintly salty taste settle in her mouth, as she schooled her features into the proper mask of concern and contrition, as the elves tallied the dead. Not a single elf had died. Not one, she thought proudly. Hurt and bloody, but not dead. They had been smart and reacted, although surprised, quickly and in an organized fashion. But the humans….
Legolas jumped off his horse and frantically began searching the faces of the dead and the living.
Where was she? She had to be alive. It was unthinkable that she would be dead he thought his mind clutching at straws. She couldn't be dead. He wouldn't allow it. Worry turned into anger as his fists clenched in frustration. He couldn't find her!
He turned to one of the humans who was whimpering and rocking back and forth, clutching the front of his shirt he shook fiercely, his eyes as hard as diamond ice, "Where is Raveyn?"
The man's glazed eyes simply stared at him in shock.
Legolas shook him again his fists lifting the man up into the air, "Where is she?"
"I-I-I….d-don't know. R-raveyn? I-I d-don't know. I don't know I don't know I don't know dead dead dead dead dead," and tears coursed down his cheeks.
Legolas stared at him, his blood cold and his lips twisted bitterly, "She's not dead. I would know if she was dead. She. Is. Not. Dead."
Turning to address the rest of the badly shaken party he said loudly and clearly, "Pack everything. Evrilael, you're in charge. Tally and bury the dead, bandage the living. The most important thing is to get as far away from this place as possible. Travel back south, and go through the Lithrine forest. The animals have already smelled the blood, and who knows what might come soon. Make haste. I will meet up with you two days hence. If not, leave without me." Before he finished people had already started moving. Some whose mules had bolted into the trees, arrived sheepishly and peered in shock at their fellow servants.
Legolas went and briskly saddled his horse.
Cassandra put a restraining arm again on his shoulder and he looked at her stilly, "Majesty were are you going you cannot possibly know is she is alive or dead, it is madness to go after a stupid servant wench and endanger your life simply because she was fool enough not to protect her own."
"Cassandra." He said warningly his voice soft and low, steel sheathed silk. Her hand dropped immediately and he stepped away.
He glanced briefly at Evrilael, and nodded. Evrilael understood his responsibility, he would shoulder it well.
He shouted, "Highness. Take care."
And with that Legolas turned to follow her trail. He stared at the indent in the moss some distance away. The left back hoof was chipped towards the right, and he followed the trail into the dark cool forest.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
Yes Legolas and Raveyn were semi-sweet to each other. They can't bicker all the time if their relationship is going to get anywhere, but do not worry. Seriously people you can trust me. There will be conflict. And not just the yapping at each other kind. To everyone who reviewed, I just wanted to again express my gratitude. I started this story as a sort of whim, and it is you who have encouraged me and carried this fic futher than chapter 1 or 2. Merci beaucoup!
Dior: So glad you thought Raveyn wasn't a mary sue, and was more than a cardboard cutout. My characters are so important to me, and this story although a romance, is also primarily centered around the life of this girl and the changes that made her who she is, and who she will be. Thanks!
Kat: Your review was lovely. As for more evil things happening to Raveyn and Legolas, hehe, you will just have to wait and see…
Divajen2001: That was high praise thank you so much! I'm glad you like the story.
Icemimempress: Thanks for the review Reva, I'm happy you like all the chapters. As for the rape scene, my aim was to set it apart from the rest of the writing, to show the heightened emotion and violence that ripped through the scene. I will look into rewriting after the story has been completed so as not to detract from the update time. Thank you for your review, and I look forward to hearing what you think about the violent scene in this chapter!
Corinn and Eomer: LoL! You are one very strong woman not to lust after pretty blue eyes! Raveyn should take a page out of your book.
Amanda Panda: Your review was not too long at all! I adore long reviews, it lets me know what people think in detail. Thank you!
Blade Swinger: Leia kicks major ass doesn't she. When I first wrote her down, my goal was simply to create a character that Raveyn could talk to. Some companionship you know, but then she took a life of her own, and became more than that, a character in her own right. I wish you loads of luck on your characterizations, if you care about your characters it will show through in your story. Don't worry. You know who my beta liked? Stubborn.
ImmortalDeath: Isn't sarcasm just lovely? Glad you liked that part, I was having fun writing it.
Kathryn Mason Sykes: Lol, no one does not want to see Cassandra have even a sliver of happiness your right. Keep in mind that Cassandra has her own messed up issues jangling in her past. As for Raveyn and Legolas, They do scream dysfunction don't they? So cute!
Scarlett Arrow and Lindelea : Happy you liked this chapter and I hope you guys like this one just as much. Its more mellow and sweet than the others. Except for the last scene at the end….
Arodfan: yup that's Raveyn's little bitch voice that's annoying and depressing as hell. We all have one I think and Raveyn just has to shut it up sometimes. Thanks for the review.
Albinofrog: I am so sorry you thought Legolas was a jerk! I never meant that to come across. He was supposed to be angry at himself and at her; at her because she was the root of all those feelings in him, which were not supposed to be there. Keep in mind that she is far below his station in life. As for Raveyn being beautiful, I looked over the story and I couldn't find the reference, if you could please point it out? The only people who will refer to Raveyn as beautiful will be the people that know her. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and that is so true in this story. It was part of the reason I created Cassandra. She is gorgeous but personality wise…yeah.
Passionlover: you got it in one my dear, Legolas although he may be an elf, is still a guy. And sometimes bloodflow reverses, even in the most sensible people. Men are easy. And on your other point, Raveyn was hurt, but legolas healed her, she only has fading bruises and such. Hope that cleared it up, and thanks for your review.
Inflight14: That's perfect what you said, "a drive in her fueled by her insanity," Cassandra is almost a Hannibal lecterish type individual. Smart and cunning, but crazy. And there is stuff in her past that made her that way. Oh and as for Legolas resisting. Well, as Passionlover noted. See I thought long and hard about this. Legolas is a guy. A very sexy smart, millennia old guy, but still. He is a guy. And all the violence and tension in the air, everything was focused on that moment between him and Cassandra. And when Cassandra diverted it into the sexual arena at which she is the undisputed pro, well. Stuff happens. That was my POV of it anyway. Loved your review thanks!
AngelsExist: Hehe. It was a bit dramatic wasn't it? That was how I intended it to be. I was listening to Beethoven's ninth symphony at the time so I blame him. Ode to Joy is so infectiously uplifting and dramatic! I will try to tamp down the fireworks in the next chapters, hehe.
Fruity: Your review was so great thank you so much! I'm glad you liked the emotional undercurrents. And I agree with you, perfection is underrated and too damn boring. Thanks again and I hope to hear from you.
Stefynae: I look forward to your reviews every chapter. Thanks, I am glad you liked. This was one of my fav. Chapters. You're a fantastic reviewer, muchas gracias!
Carrie of Pirate's swoop: I like the nickname, and thanks for the review.
Dove6987: I'm so sorry about the long update, I personally apologize to you. Hope you liked this chapter. Bit of a cliffie at the end.
Lee H.: Thanks lee! Happy you like the story.