Author's Note: Sorry it has taken so long to get this chapter up. You know, too many ideas floating around waiting to be written. Right now I'm working on a series of Shakespearean comedies set with LOTR characters. Lots of fun there! Oh and thanks for all the good Ideas for an ending. X's and O's to all of my reviewers!!!!!!
Part Eleven: Parlay at Isengard
"Wake her. We must make haste to Isengard."
"Let her sleep, Gandalf." Aragorn pleaded, trying without success to give the little she-elf some respite. "Hasn't she suffered at Saruman's hands enough? Legolas, say something."
"What. I can not leave her here, Aragorn." The prince countered. "She needs me right now, so she rides with us. It does not matter what I want at this point."
"She must do as she was born to do, Aragorn. Just as you must." The wizard said. "Now, fetch her a clean tunic, leggings and boots."
"Ithilin," Legolas whispered, softly caressing her cheek, "We must go."
Ithilin sighed as she disentangled herself from his warm embrace. :Help me to sit, meleth. It still hurts to move too much.:
:You're going to be hurting more before this day is over, I think.: He moved slowly, letting her adjust to the inevitable pain. "We ride for Isengard, meleth-nîn."
"Why, in the name of all the Holy Ones, should I want to go back there willingly?" she panted acidly, resting her head against Legolas' shoulder and closing her eyes against a wave of searing pain that engulfed her. "Please tell me there is a reason I am being forced a horse when I would rather lie here in contented sleep next to my mate."
"Have I not always given you reasons for the way things must be, my daughter?" Gandalf laughed.
"Aye, Adar, you have. But you remember what happened the first time you told me what I needed to do?"
"That would be twenty year ago now, wouldn't it?"
"Yes. All I had to do was capture the heart of a certain King of Men." She chuckled breathlessly as Legolas' dark eyebrows crept into his hairline. Suddenly, she began to cough and blood trickled out of the corners of her mouth. Legolas picked up the cloth and wordlessly wiped it away. "An easy task, or so I thought until I tried to wrench his attention away from the fair Arwen."
"I can imagine that proved as difficult as my own efforts that summer." Legolas laughed as Aragorn returned with clothing for Ithilin.
"What's so funny?" He asked.
"You." The two elves said in unison.
"Me!?" Aragorn said innocently as the prince made a grab for the clothing he carried. The human grinned wickedly as he held the items out of reach, knowing that Legolas would not risk moving to much because Ithilin rested against him. "Why this time, mellon-nîn?"
"Does it have to be anything in particular, Aragorn?" The prince said, grinning impishly. "Now give me those!"
The ranger shook his head. "Not until you tell me why you and your spitfire are laughing at me."
"You remember the summer I spent with you twenty years ago, don't you?"
"Aye. That was the summer you bound to Ithilin, right?"
"Yes." The elf smiled wistfully and nuzzled his mate affectionately. "Well, she was suppose to woo you, mellon-nîn. But ended up wooing me instead."
"And that's funny?" Aragorn cocked an eyebrow at the prince as he threw the clothes at him, hitting him in the face.
"Just think, Estel." Ithilin panted softly against the pain as Legolas removed her tunic, cleaned then rebandaged her wounds and dressed her in the clean tunic. "You could be stuck with me."
Aragorn groaned at the thought. He cared for her yes, but the thought of being married to her frightened him a little. He had never seen a bonding this tight before, yet he knew with dreadful certainty that if anything happened to one of them the other would feel it. He also feared that if Ithilin were to perish in the battle to come, he might lose Legolas as well. That was *not* something that Aragorn wanted to think about, ever.
* * *
Ithilin leaned heavily on Legolas. Walking was excruciating, but she refused to be carried. She and Legolas had argued with Gandalf about her not being able to ride with Legolas, being forced to ride with Aragorn instead. She needed Legolas, though she wouldn't admit how much.
"Gandalf, you can't mean to take her along?" Théoden protested as Ithilin was placed in the saddle in front of Aragorn.
"She goes, Théoden." The Istari answered warningly.
:Estel?:
Aragorn blinked in surprise at her voice in his head. "Did you say something, Ithilin?"
:Yes.: she said, settling against him. :I'm tired.:
The ranger glanced over at Legolas who was hoisting Gimli up behind him. "Should I let her sleep, Legolas?" He asked quietly in elvish.
"Yes, as much as she can." The fair being nudged Arod up beside Hasufel and wiped the blood from Ithilin's chin, then handed the cloth to Aragorn. "Keep this. You'll be needing it." Legolas' hand brushed her cheek, "Sleep, meleth. We will not stop until after nightfall."
* * *
Aragorn rode slowly to keep from jarring the little she-elf that slept against him. He noticed that Legolas kept looking back at them, worry etched in his blue eyes. He knew that the elf was angry that she had not been allowed to ride with him. In fact, the argument with Gandalf had been very heated. Both elves hated the idea of being separated, even for a minute. They tried to explain that Ithilin needed Legolas, but the wizard refused to budge.
The ranger started slightly when she nuzzled him as he had seen her do with Legolas many times over the last two months.
"Legolas!" he called, trying to still her movements.
The prince looked back and stifled a chuckle at the ranger's predicament. Reigning in Arod, he waited for Aragorn to catch up.
"What, you can't take care of that, Estel?" he smiled.
"Do I look like an elf?"
"You're not?!" Legolas said with feigned surprise, his blue eyes wide and sparkling with mirth. "I just assumed that you were, considering you were raised by Lord Elrond."
"Funny, Legolas, very funny." Aragorn grumbled good-naturedly, as he gently stopped Ithilin's unconscious attempts to find food. "Remind me why we're friends again?"
"Because I saved you arse so many times, that I've lost count and you owe me." The elf laughed, drawing a chuckle from the dwarf. "Gimli, you wouldn't mind riding with Aragorn, would you?"
"No, lad. Not if she needs you."
Legolas smiled his thanks and helped the dwarf over to Hasufel, behind Aragorn.
:Ithilin, wake.: his mind whispered as he touched her arm. :Come ride with me.:
:Legolas?: she blinked sleepily at him.
The elf unbuckled his quiver harness and unhooked his jerkin and tunic then gently lifted her over onto his horse, settling her so that she faced him.
:Drink you fill and go back to sleep, meleth-nîn. I have a feeling that Gandalf is going to chastise me for this.:
:What does he want me to do? Aragorn can not give me this.:
:I think he doesn't want you to depend wholly on me.: he answered, nuzzling her hair as he felt her lips against his skin.
She shifted slightly, wrapping her legs around his waist so she wasn't coming in contact with Arod's withers. :I never thought that I would be completely dependent on you.:
:I don't mind.: he laughed
:You will if things do not improve. You wouldn't be able to go anywhere without me.:
Legolas sobered, :I hadn't thought about that.:
:I like listening to your heartbeat.: she sighed, pressing her ear to his chest. :It's comforting.:
:So is having you at my breast. I don't know why my kin never bound, Ithilin. This brings me so much peace. I'm happy that I can give you what you need.:
Ithilin pulled away and gazed up into his eyes, "I'm glad that you love me that much, Legolas."
* * *
The near full moon bathed the empty river bed of the Isen in its silvery light. The bank and surrounding territory was devoid of all sounds of life save those that they themselves made. Legolas was uneasy though, as he dismounted. Something wasn't right here.
Gandalf had said nothing about Ithilin riding with Legolas until they made camp for the night. "You are not as shy about private matters as you once were, young one." He said, coming up behind the prince.
"Shall I let her starve?" The elf replied coolly, as he carefully lifted Ithilin down from the horse. His anger had abated somewhat, but he was still upset. "No, Gandalf, I don't like having to do this in the open, but I really don't have any other options."
The Istari chuckled softly. "I know, youngling. Now go get some rest."
Legolas helped her settle in for the night then went to join Aragorn and Gimli for a sketchy supper. Ithilin had hardly let him have a moments rest while they rode, yet he never denied her his milk. He hadn't eaten since breakfast and his stomach was beginning to war with his spine, he was so hungry.
"How is she, lad?" Gimli asked, handing him a bowl of stew.
The prince wrinkled his nose at the strong smell of the thick soup and nearly gagged. "Please tell me this isn't all there is to eat."
"What's wrong, Legolas? You look ill." Aragorn asked, taken aback by the elf's reaction to the food. "You've never had a problem with stews in the past."
"I don't know? Here, you smell it." The fair being coughed, passing the bowl to the ranger.
"What? Doesn't she like the food?" one of the Rohirrim, behind them, said mockingly.
"You know how it is with breeding women, Éorl," another joined in, "Can't hold a thing down."
Legolas' eyes blazed but he said nothing. They were nothing but uneducated men who knew nothing of elves and their ways. But would he have been any different a few months ago? He had known nothing of bound elves, coming from a line of royalty that wed solely to cement alliances, not for love. His own father might even say that he was fay if he saw Ithilin at his breast. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of what Thranduil would do to him, knowing what the elven king was capable of, if he ever found out.
"Did you put something in this?" Aragorn growled, knowing the elf's sensitivity to certain spices.
"It's just venison stew, m'lord. Nothing's in it that would hurt even the weest babe."
Aragorn tasted the stew in the elf's bowl and coughed. Lothruin. A very potent spice that Legolas avoided like the plague. He well remembered the last time Legolas had had the seasoning. Elrohir had thought it would be funny to slip some into the prince's wine. Unfortunately, it made Legolas violently ill all over Elrohir. And these morons had used it liberally in the prince's dinner.
"Here, Legolas, you finish mine." he said giving the elf his half eaten bowl. "I'll take care of these nifts."
"It doesn't matter what the humans are saying, Aragorn. However feminine I appear to them, I am still one of the deadliest warriors of my race."
"You sell yourself short, lad." Gimli said gruffly, "I have met many elves on this journey and you, my friend, are the most dangerous. Merely because you don't look like you could harm a flee."
"Thank you, Gimli. I'm touched."
"Yeah, in the head." Aragorn teased, getting up to force the tampered stew down the offenders throats.
"No more than you, Estel." The elf's eyes gleamed fiendishly in the silver moonlight.
"Well, who wouldn't be? Look who I have for friends."
"Yes, but with friends like us, who needs Sauron? Huh?" the elf grinned.
Aragorn groaned and rolled his eyes.
Gimli laughed heartily at their exchange. "Then the Dark Lord had better think twice about coming after us, hadn't he?"
Now it was Aragorn's turn to laugh, until he saw Legolas' expression change and his blond head snap in Ithilin's direction. A heartbeat later, the prince had disappeared into the darkness.
* * *
"No! Stop!" she cried softly, feebly fighting the hands that tried to restrain her. "No more, please!"
"Sîdh, meleth-nîn. Non sí." Came the whispered words, but she was caught in the hellish nightmare of her remembered ordeal.
"Please stop! You're hurting me!"
"Ithilin, sîdh. 'Tis I, Legolas." Though soft, the words sounded on the edge of panic. Yet they couldn't break through the terror that she was reliving.
* * * The Uruk had thrown her to the ground. Stunned, she couldn't react until it was too late. And by that time, he was on top of her tearing at her clothing.
She had fought briefly but he had caught her hands and pinned them above her head in one of his enormous hands. She felt his hot, rancid breath against her neck as his vile tongue bathed her ear. His free hand ripped open her jerkin and tunic and crushed the soft mounds of flesh, that he found there, in his powerful grip.
Terror coursed through her as she was relieved of her leggings. The misborn forced her legs apart, driving himself inside her with such force that she was sure she was being rent in two. She wanted to scream, the pain was so great. Yet she could find no voice to do so.
Pain engulfed her. Her eyes watered and all she could see was stars and the horrible visage of the Uruk leering maliciously down at her. * * *
"NO! STOP!" the scream broke through the stillness of the camp.
Legolas had stopped fighting her and moved away a little, tears streaming silently down his fair cheeks as he rested his head on his knees. He was frightened for her.
"Ithilin, where are you?" he said in a hitched whisper.
"Make it stop!" she whimpered. "Legolas, please make it stop!"
The elf looked over at his mate. Pain filled eyes met his in the silvery darkness. He uncurled himself and crawled toward her, not bothering to hide his own pain and fear.
"Non sí, meleth-nîn." He whispered, gathering her into his lap.
"How can you love me, Legolas?" she sobbed against his chest. "After all of this, how can you love me?"
"How can I not?"
"Do you still want me?" she asked. "I would understand-"
Legolas' heart contracted in his chest. He knew why she would ask that, but it hurt to hear her say it. "Yes."
"Why?"
"Words are a poor expression of how I feel, Ithilin."
His lips met hers in a soft kiss. His slender hands cupped her face, his long fingers sliding up the shell of her slightly pointed ears to caress the nearly imperceptible tips.
"I asked you those same questions when I returned to Rivendell." He whispered. "And you gave me the same answers."
"Make me forget."
"Here?" He choked. He understood that she needed this, but this was not the ideal spot. He preferred a more secluded setting.
Hot tears of rejection welled up in her eyes. "It's all right, Legolas," she said in tight whisper. "You don't have to."
Legolas' eyes blazed. "Ithilin, I don't ever want to hear that again. Do you understand?" he said a little more sharply than he had intended to.
Ithilin shrank away from him, avoiding his gaze.
"Look at me."
Her eyes were locked on the ground.
Gently, his hand brushed her cheek, sliding down her jaw to cup her chin. "Please look at me, meleth-nîn,"
"You are ashamed of what they did to me." She said in a pained whisper.
"No," he replied, pain clear in his voice. "A'maelamin, it's not . . .Oh, hell. Gimli is going to tease me unmercifully about this, you know."
A timid smile appeared on her lips as she reached tentatively for the little silver clasps that held his jerkin and tunic closed. Encouraged when he didn't stop her, she slowly began to unhook them. She pushed the soft fabric off his shoulders, her fingers trailing lightly over his chest and up his throat to his jaw. He lifted his head slightly, resting his chin on the top of her head as she kissed the hollow of his throat. She nuzzled the base of his jaw, feeling his low purr of pleasure against her face
He pulled back just enough to capture her lips with his own. Gently, he caressed her shoulders, sending a hesitant pulse of desire along the bond. The response he received, though shaky, was encouraging. He pressed his tongue gently against her lips and felt her open her mouth to let him inside. He wanted this as much as she needed it, but he knew that she would fight him if he was too rough. It took all his self control to keep his love making gentle.
She leaned back as his tongue slid into her mouth, his strong arms supporting her all the way to the hard earth. His silky golden hair fell over his shoulders, brushing her cheeks as he knelt over her. Her hands wandered over his torso, coming to rest on the laces on his leggings.
"Not yet." He whispered, his lips trailing to her ear. "I could hurt you if I took you now."
"I need you!"
"Hush, meleth. Iston."
He felt her hands leave his body. Fearing that he had upset her, he drew away a little, confusion lighting his features. He smiled with relief when he saw that she was frantically trying to undo her own clothing.
"Let me." He murmured, covering her hands with his and slowly unfastened the catches. He refused to expose her more than he needed to because, although his vision had narrowed to just her, he knew that they were being watched. Yet he could not deny her what she needed most, him.
The last hook yielded beneath his hands, revealing the scarred flesh of her torso. Gingerly, he let his hands wander over her skin. He could see, in the moonlight, that the bruises were fading and the burns were being replaced by soft, new skin. The physical scars would disappear within the next few days, but the emotional damage could take years to heal. What his father had done to him was nothing in comparison to what she had suffered.
He bent down and touched his lips to the rise of her breast, feeling her rise slightly to meet his touch. He took his time in pleasuring her because her reactions were so curbed by the abuse, that he had to look for the slightest response in her body language.
She trembled beneath him as his hands slid down toward her leggings and he knew with horrible certainty that it was a dual response, one of fear and one of desire. Which was stronger, he knew not but he hoped that her desire for him would over shadow the fear.
"Are you sure you want me to do this, Ithilin?" he asked softly, gazing into her dark eyes.
"Yes." She whimpered, fear evident in her voice.
Slowly he untied the laces of her breeches and slid them past her hips to the tops of her boots. He hoped she wouldn't feel trapped by the fabric restricting her movements. "Tell me to stop if I hurt you, all right?"
She nodded, watching him slide his own leggings down and kneel between her legs. She cried out softly as he entered her, fear making her recoil from him.
"Hush," he said soothingly, the back of his fingers brushing her cheek. "It's all right. I will not to hurt you."
"Legolas," she pleaded, her voice breaking with sobs. "I want to forget them. Please, make me forget."
Legolas tried to swallow the past the lump in his throat. What had they done to his beautiful Ithilin? She had always been so strong, so loving. Now she was like a broken doll, weak and frightened.
"Remember the night we bound, Ithilin?" He said, trying to turn her thoughts to a happier time as his hips rocked against hers. "Remember how angry I was at Estel? Remember the bath? And the chase?"
"Yes."
"Let us relive that night. We are new bound and none of these last twenty years have happened."
Lost in the memory of that night, the two elves came together without fear and without pain. Their lovemaking, though hesitant, was that of young lovers exploring the delights of each others bodies for the first time. For a few hours, at least, she was his young bride and he was just the young elf prince who captured her heart.
As the moon reached its zenith and after they had put themselves back in order, Ithilin curled into his embrace.
"Hush, now, Ithilin. I am here." He murmured into her hair, holding her close as she sobbed quietly against his bare chest.
"Don't let me forget that night again, Legolas." Her voice was soft and hitched by sobs but it had lost the note of hopelessness.
He smiled and kissed her forehead, "I doubt that you will, meleth. Sleep now."
He heard her sigh and felt her relax against him in sleep. He loved her more than life and while it hurt him to see her like this, he knew that she would be stronger for it.
Behind him, he heard someone cough and he shifted to look at the interloper. Aragorn and Gimli stood a few yards away, staring resolutely in opposite directions. Legolas groaned softly, knowing that they had seen.
"Are you done?" the human asked, mirth coloring his words as he glanced in the elf's direction.
The poor elf didn't know what to say. He was caught between incredulousness and embarrassment. Picking up a small stone, he chucked it at the ranger.
"Ouch." He hissed as the rock hit his arm. "Jeez, is this the thanks I get for keeping the nosy Rohirrim away from you for a couple of hours?"
"When you ask if I'm done, it is, Telcontar." Legolas growled, though he was grateful to the human and the dwarf for protecting their privacy. "What do I do about a nosy ranger and dwarf, though?"
"Nothing, lad, if you know what's good for you." The dwarf burred testily.
"I thank you, mellyn-nîn." Legolas chuckled. He could trust that his friends wouldn't say anything to anyone about what they witnessed. "Come rest. It is many hours, yet, before dawn."
* * *
Later, the four of them woke to the cry of the watchmen. No moonlight bathed the empty river bed. The only light came from the few stars shining overhead. Yet over the ground, a darkness blacker than night crawled, like a stalking predator, on both sides of the river heading northward.
"Stay where you are!" Gandalf commanded. "Draw no weapons! Wait! And it will pass you by!"
Protectively, Legolas curled around Ithilin. She huddled in the safety of his arms, pressing as close to him as she could get. He could almost taste her fear, it was so real.
"Aragorn, Gimli." He called softly to his companions. "Come closer."
Both the ranger and the dwarf didn't question the elf's request. They wanted to get away from the approaching shadow and the elf's natural light gave them a sense of security.
The earth shook violently beneath them and all about them came the sound of tortured whisperings and groanings. Above, only a few stars twinkled faintly but the walls of shadow blocked out most of the night sky. Long minutes of shear terror passed slowly before the darkness rolled by, vanishing between the mountain's arms.
A collective sigh rose up from the group, once the glittering night sky and silver moon were again visible.
Legolas uncurled, letting Ithilin relax a little. Yet the she-elf did not move away from him. He looked down at her. Her eyes were like dark saucers, only a pencil line of blue circled the outside of the pupil.
"Non sí, meleth-nîn. You are safe." He breathed, nuzzling her ear.
"Don't leave me."
"Aragorn and Gimli are here, Ithilin." He said reassuringly, "If I have to relieve myself, you'll be safe enough."
She nodded, "Forgive me. I'm being foolish."
Legolas chuckled, hugging her to him. "You're allowed, but just this once."
"Don't let it happen again, though." Aragorn teased, seeing that Legolas was trying to lighten her mood.
"Aye, lass." Gimli put in, a mischievous gleam in his green eyes. "Or we may have to toss you into a lake."
"Assuming that we can find one on short notice." The ranger said ruffling her hair.
"A stream would do, I suppose, if a lake is hard to come by." Said the dwarf.
"How about a bucket? You're rather fond of those, aren't you, Legolas?" Aragorn grinned.
The elf groaned. "If I never see another bucket of water again, it will be too soon. You and your brothers were determined to send me home looking like a drowned cat that summer, weren't you."
"We did our best." The human yawned, stretching.
Burrowing closer to her mate, Ithilin laughed softly at the image they invoked. With that, she fell asleep against Legolas with a lighter heart.
No one else slept, though, fearing the shadow would return. Yet nothing else strange disturbed the stillness of the night, save one. With an initial rush of water upon the stones of its bed, the Isen bubbled and sang in its course once more.
* * *
The sun did not rise with the dawn, but with a thick fog that hung gray and heavy about them. The company mounted up and resumed their journey to Isengard.
After some miles, the highway narrowed into a paved street with deep gutters on either side filled with trickling water. Looming before them, through the mists, stood a tall obsidian pillar with a carved white hand pointing north.
Ithilin shivered in Legolas' embrace. "I can't go back there." she said apprehensively.
"Gimli, Aragorn and I are here, Ithilin."
"Aye, lass. I'll not let any orcs take you again." The small being growled protectively from his perch behind Aragorn, "I'll hew them into pieces, should they lay a hand on your pretty head again."
"Legolas, I'm afraid."
"Look at me." He commanded gently, tucking a strand of honey colored hair behind her ear. When she looked up, he continued. "I know your fear, hervess-nîn. I share it. But you can no more avoid confronting your tormentors then you could giving birth."
"I don't want to do this."
"Iston." He sighed. "I wish you didn't have to, but you have no other choice."
"As long as I do not have to face them alone, I will say nothing more."
"Not even Eru could keep me from standing with you, meleth-nîn."
She nuzzled his neck and laughed softly when she felt his low purr against her forehead.
"I didn't know that elves purred like cats!" Aragorn laughed in disbelief.
"I guess there are a few things left that I can surprise you with then, Strider." The prince shot back, a smile playing at the corners of his slender mouth.
As Gandalf rode past the pillar, the great hand no longer appeared white, but stained dark with blood. Great pools of water filled the hollows beside the road, creating waterfalls and eddies as it trickled along.
"These are ill tidings, Gandalf, " Théoden said to the Istari, glancing back to where Ithilin rode facing Legolas. "I still question the sanity of bringing that girl along. Who knows what we will face here. She can barely stand, let alone defend herself."
"I assure you, Théoden, she can easily defend herself against what lies ahead." The wizard replied. "And I doubt her mate will let any touch her, save Aragorn, Gimli or myself."
"But she is so frail."
"Do not be deceived by appearances. Her apparent 'frailty', as you put it, is her greatest strength. She is stronger then even she knows at this time."
Théoden looked back at her. How could such a delicate creature not need the protection of men? She seemed so dependent on the elf for her very life. Yet, when her intense sapphire gaze met his he sensed an untold courage that had yet to be tested.
As they rode onward, the mists cleared and Orthanc rose before them, a towering and forbidding structure still, in its ruined state.
The company halted before the ruined gates of Isengard, surveying the destruction that lay about them in awe. What could have wreaked such damage?
"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" came a voice from the rubble heap beside them. "We are the door wardens. One Meriadoc Brandybuck and one Peregrin Took at you service, good sirs. The Lord Saruman is within, closeted with a one Wormtongue or he would doubtless be here to welcome such honored lords."
Gandalf laughed heartily, "No doubt that he would. Was it he that charged you with guard duty upon these doors and watch for guests?"
"Nay, we were charged with this task by Treebeard. He commanded us to give welcome to the Lord of Rohan."
Gimli was fairly bursting with joy. "You . . . you . . . you rascals!" he cried, "What of you companions? Hammer and tongs! You've led us on a fine chase, you have! And we find you feasting and smoking! Where did you come by the weed?"
Aragorn and the two elves chuckled at the gruff dwarf's emotional display.
"You speak for us as well, Gimli." Legolas laughed, "Though, truth be told, I would rather find out how they came by the wine."
"'Tis past noon," Gandalf said, "and we not eaten since daybreak."
"And some of us, since we camped for the night." Legolas muttered testily, drawing snickers from the human and the dwarf as well as a sharp look from the wizard.
"Treebeard, bid me ask you, my Lord of the Mark and Gandalf, to ride to the northern wall and he will welcome you." Merry said politely.
"Come, Théoden. Let us leave these five at their ease and seek out Treebeard."
The King nodded and rode with Gandalf and his men north toward the wall.
* * *
Some time later the Rohirrim and Gandalf returned.
"Come, hên." Gandalf said helping Ithilin to her feet. "We must speak with Saruman.."
"Ada. I wish to put it behind me, not relive it." She said resisting his gentle tug on her arm.
"Yet to put Saruman's and Wormtongue's grievous crimes in the past, you must face them."
"I would rather forget them."
"But you can't, can you?" the wizard said, lifting her chin to look her in the eye. "I would that it had never happened, little one, but you are stronger now because of it. Rise above the darkness in your heart and find hope that you can be free of Saruman's prison."
The little she-elf looked away from his intense gaze, sighing heavily. How could she face these men who tortured her and raped her? How could she feel anything but hate for what they did? Hate was power. Power she wanted over her tormentors.
"If the path to freedom is through darkness and pain then that is the path I must trod." she replied slowly, trying to swallow her fear.
"Non sí, meleth-nîn. I, too, must find forgiveness for them."
She felt his strong, slender arms slide about her waist, holding her to his body protectively. She realized that she wasn't the only one hurt by Saruman's and Wormtongue's abuse. What had been done to her, had been done to him as well. Legolas' heart and strength had been with her throughout the ordeal. And it was by his will alone that she still lived to confront these men. Left to herself, she would have given up long before she reached Isengard the first time.
Gandalf smiled at the elven prince as the young elf rested his chin on top of her head. He had known from the beginning that they had bound, though he hadn't let on. Theirs had been a difficult pairing. They had been torn away from one another shortly after they had bound. And Legolas' father had forced the prince into a marriage that should have never been. Gandalf had tried to reason with Thranduil, but the arrogant king wouldn't listen. Yet he marveled at how the bond between them had not only survived but continued to grow and strengthen over the years. Very few elves had a bonding this tight. Though he knew not what lay ahead, he was certain that these two young ones would be together to the end.
"Saruman!" Gandalf commanded as he struck the door with his staff, "Saruman, come forth!"
An eerie silence was followed by the sound of the window above the door being slid open.
"Who is it? What is it you want?" called a voice from the darkness beyond the door.
"I know that voice and ever will I curse it's first hearing." Théoden said, startled.
Ithilin shuddered involuntarily at the sound and backed closer to Legolas.
"Saruman, since you be his footman, Grima Wormtongue." Said Gandalf impatiently, "Yet one of our number also has business with you."
"What have I done to incur the wrath of you, old man?"
"'Tis not I that has a quarrel with you, this time, but a certain she-elf that was held prisoner here but two days since."
"What she-elf?" Wormtongue replied silkily.
Ithilin wanted to reach through the tiny opening and throttle the snake. "You know perfectly well what she-elf, delos o cuil." She hissed vehemently.
Legolas' and Aragorn's eyebrows leapt into their hairline. Neither of them had ever heard her speak like that. That particular term was considered the ultimate swear word among the elves. It was rarely used for the reason that it referred to the person as being misborn.
"You did to me what you would have done to Théoden's niece, if you had been given half the chance."
"I know not of what you speak, my lady."
"Come out here and face me, coward!" She growled, her hand sliding to the hilt of her sword. "Or are you afraid of facing a woman who is unfettered?!"
She was angry. And while it was justified, it was not productive.
"Ithilin," Legolas whispered softly in her ear, "although he certainly merits a painful death in my book, let it not be by our hands that he is slain."
Ithilin spun on her mate, anger, pain, humiliation, and hate burning in her sapphire eyes. "How dare you council me thus, Legolas Greenleaf!" she spat in elvish. "You, of all people, know intimately what this sorry excuse for a human did to me! And you ask that I spare his life?"
"Were it yours to take, guren, I would let you be. I ask only that you listen to your heart and do as it bids."
"And what would you do, were it you that had been tortured and raped?"
"Ithilin!" the elf shouted, "I will repudiate you if this continues."
Aragorn looked at his friend, dumbfounded. He never thought Legolas would even think of doing that. He had heard of that happening, but the consequences of such a repudiation were painful to both parties. And knowing how strong their bond was, he knew that Legolas was risking death to bring Ithilin back to sanity.
Tears slid down the she-elf's soft cheeks. She had almost given in to the darkness raging in her heart. And almost lost the one thing she could not afford to lose. She swallowed hard and turned back to the door, looking deep within herself for the will to forgive these men. She had seen what hate had done to them. It had twisted their minds so that lies sounded like truth and drove them to stamp out all that was light and good in the world. No. She would not let her anger and fear rule her. She would not fall into the darkness of hate. If she did not forgive them, how could she expect to fully heal. They would pay for their crimes in Eru's time, not hers.
"It has been long since you have known truth. For long years have Saruman and Sauron fed you lies and deceit. What you did to me was nothing more than a culmination of the falsehoods that they gave you." She said softly. "I forgive you."
"Pretty words from a pretty slave." Wormtongue sneered from behind the door.
Legolas growled audibly but said nothing.
"Go and fetch your master, snake." Gandalf said.
The window snapped shut, leaving them to wait in silence.
All Ithilin wanted to do was seek comfort in her mate's arms but their meeting was far from over. She still had to face Saruman.
"Why must you disturb my rest?" came the wizard's voice from above.
"I have business with you, Saruman!" she called.
"I speak not to half grown women who know not their place, child. Let your elders do your speaking for you." The Istari replied smoothly.
"Dare you speak thus to the Coithuliel?"
"I know of no such person." Saruman said. "But I pray you, let me first speak with to the King of Rohan. What say you, Théoden King?"
Théoden stood enthralled and could not find his tongue to answer.
"Lord, hear me! Do we stand amazed by a liar with honey on his forked tongue?" Éomer spoke heatedly, trying to break Saruman's spell. "I ask you, my lord, to remember Théodred at the Fords and the graves of those who perished at Helm's Deep! He is treacherous and a murderer! Seek not his aid!"
Saruman laughed but anger was on his lips, "My lord of Rohan, am I to be called a murderer because valiant men have fallen in battle."
"Murder is murder, however you care to justify it!" Ithilin cried. "Good, honest men and elves died! And for what? Your vanity, my lord? Sauron has lied to you if you -"
"Silence, wench!"
"I will not be silenced! How many have died before me in that chamber, Saruman!? How many of them were elves? Blood does not lie!"
"You are a liar, Saruman, cold and cruel. So like your dark master who stretches out his clawed hand from the darkness of Mordor." Théoden said, coming out of his stupor. "Even were you ten times as wise, you would not have the right to rule me or the people of Rohan." His eyes blazed angrily as he thought of the boys, men and elves who lay dead upon the Deeping wall and of the horrors that the wild men had done to the villages of the Westfold. "What of the torches your men put to the villages in the Westfold and those that there lie dead?"
"What of the babes that cry hungrily at their mother's dead breast? What of the mothers that mourn their young sons?" Ithilin called out. She knew of the nightmare that the wizard unleashed upon Rohan. She had heard the weeping of the women of Rohan, even as she lay in the sleep of death, as they buried their children. "Can you ease their grief? Can you bring their dead back to life?"
"Go back to your caves and huts!" the Istari hissed. "Gandalf, how can you endure the company of dotards, mad prattling elves, and tag-alongs? Dismiss these lesser folk from your thought. Together we could heal the disorders of this world. Will you not come up? I am more than willing to overlook the past and receive you. Let us understand one another. Let them wait on our decisions."
Gandalf laughed heartily, "You should have been a court jester, Saruman! Ah, me!" he paused, gaining control over his mirth. "I understand you all too well, now. The last time I visited you, you would have sent me in chains to Mordor. And my daughter as well no doubt, if you had been given half the chance. Nay, I do not think I will come up. But perhaps you will come down?"
Saruman paled. He was frightened. Yet when he finally spoke, his voice was shrill and cold and full of hatred.
"I can hear well enough here. I do not trust you, Gandalf. I am no fool."
"I am giving you one last chance to be free, Saruman. I have no desire to kill you or hurt you in any manner. You would know that if you understood me half as well as you believe you do. You can leave Orthanc, free - if you choose." Gandalf replied wearily.
"Can you give me back what you took from me, Saruman?" Ithilin said quietly, not daring to look up at the wizard who stood on the balcony above yet her voice broke with grief. "Can you give me back my innocence? My life? 'Tis not just the women of Rohan who mourn."
Théoden starred at her. What had the wizard done to her? Yet when the Istari spoke again, he did not address the little she-elf.
"How very kind of you Gandalf the Gray. And condescending. But why should I leave? And if I choose to, there are to be conditions, I presume?"
"Look about you, Saruman. Your servants are destroyed. You have made enemies of your neighbors and you have cheated your new master. I would dread that the eye of his wrath find me cheating him, were I his servant." Gandalf answered.
"Cheated?" Saruman laughed, sounding on the verge of hysteria. "Of what?"
"The Coithuliel and the Heir of Isildur, perhaps? We both know that the race of Men would be doomed without one of them."
"Man is doomed to fail with or without them, Gandalf. Man is weak. You are a fool to believe in prattling elves with fairy tale prophecies."
Gandalf shook his head. "You have never believed that there could possibly be someone wiser than you, Saruman. That has always been your failing. And for that I pity you." He paused looking down at Ithilin, but she would not look up. "You are free to go as you will, but you will first surrender to me the Key of Orthanc and your staff."
"As well as the Keys to Barad-dûr itself, I suppose You'll have, too, the staves of Five wizards and the crowns of seven kings?" Saruman screamed, "I have other matters which need my attention. If you wish to treat with me, go away and come back when you are sober!" He turned and left the balcony.
"I did not yet give you leave to go, Saruman. Come back!" Gandalf commanded.
Saruman turned again and was unwillingly dragged back to the balustrade by an unseen force.
"Stay then! Stay and eat away at the ends of your old plots. But you shall not again touch the daughter of Varda." He cried. "Behold, Saruman! I am not the Istari you betrayed, Gandalf the Gray, but Gandalf the White who has returned from death. For your crimes, I cast you from the order and from the Council. Your staff is broken! Now, go!"
Just as Saruman fell back and crawled away a shining globe came hurtling down and bounced off the iron railing where he once stood. The iron snapped with a foreboding clang. The sphere sped close to Gandalf's head and nearly hit Ithilin. Legolas reached out and grabbed her away from its path, hunching over her protectively. The stair, on which Gandalf stood, cracked and splintered in a shower of glittering sparks as the heavy crystal hit. It rolled down the steps, heading for one of the pools.
"A parting shot from Master Wormtongue, but badly aimed." Gandalf said.
"Could he not make up his small mind whom he hated more?" Aragorn asked, a cockeyed smile playing on his lips.
"Perhaps." The wizard chuckled, "If Wormtongue comes out of there alive, it will be more than he deserves after what he has done. What ever happens, the punishment will be just. Come, let us leave this place."
Part Eleven: Parlay at Isengard
"Wake her. We must make haste to Isengard."
"Let her sleep, Gandalf." Aragorn pleaded, trying without success to give the little she-elf some respite. "Hasn't she suffered at Saruman's hands enough? Legolas, say something."
"What. I can not leave her here, Aragorn." The prince countered. "She needs me right now, so she rides with us. It does not matter what I want at this point."
"She must do as she was born to do, Aragorn. Just as you must." The wizard said. "Now, fetch her a clean tunic, leggings and boots."
"Ithilin," Legolas whispered, softly caressing her cheek, "We must go."
Ithilin sighed as she disentangled herself from his warm embrace. :Help me to sit, meleth. It still hurts to move too much.:
:You're going to be hurting more before this day is over, I think.: He moved slowly, letting her adjust to the inevitable pain. "We ride for Isengard, meleth-nîn."
"Why, in the name of all the Holy Ones, should I want to go back there willingly?" she panted acidly, resting her head against Legolas' shoulder and closing her eyes against a wave of searing pain that engulfed her. "Please tell me there is a reason I am being forced a horse when I would rather lie here in contented sleep next to my mate."
"Have I not always given you reasons for the way things must be, my daughter?" Gandalf laughed.
"Aye, Adar, you have. But you remember what happened the first time you told me what I needed to do?"
"That would be twenty year ago now, wouldn't it?"
"Yes. All I had to do was capture the heart of a certain King of Men." She chuckled breathlessly as Legolas' dark eyebrows crept into his hairline. Suddenly, she began to cough and blood trickled out of the corners of her mouth. Legolas picked up the cloth and wordlessly wiped it away. "An easy task, or so I thought until I tried to wrench his attention away from the fair Arwen."
"I can imagine that proved as difficult as my own efforts that summer." Legolas laughed as Aragorn returned with clothing for Ithilin.
"What's so funny?" He asked.
"You." The two elves said in unison.
"Me!?" Aragorn said innocently as the prince made a grab for the clothing he carried. The human grinned wickedly as he held the items out of reach, knowing that Legolas would not risk moving to much because Ithilin rested against him. "Why this time, mellon-nîn?"
"Does it have to be anything in particular, Aragorn?" The prince said, grinning impishly. "Now give me those!"
The ranger shook his head. "Not until you tell me why you and your spitfire are laughing at me."
"You remember the summer I spent with you twenty years ago, don't you?"
"Aye. That was the summer you bound to Ithilin, right?"
"Yes." The elf smiled wistfully and nuzzled his mate affectionately. "Well, she was suppose to woo you, mellon-nîn. But ended up wooing me instead."
"And that's funny?" Aragorn cocked an eyebrow at the prince as he threw the clothes at him, hitting him in the face.
"Just think, Estel." Ithilin panted softly against the pain as Legolas removed her tunic, cleaned then rebandaged her wounds and dressed her in the clean tunic. "You could be stuck with me."
Aragorn groaned at the thought. He cared for her yes, but the thought of being married to her frightened him a little. He had never seen a bonding this tight before, yet he knew with dreadful certainty that if anything happened to one of them the other would feel it. He also feared that if Ithilin were to perish in the battle to come, he might lose Legolas as well. That was *not* something that Aragorn wanted to think about, ever.
* * *
Ithilin leaned heavily on Legolas. Walking was excruciating, but she refused to be carried. She and Legolas had argued with Gandalf about her not being able to ride with Legolas, being forced to ride with Aragorn instead. She needed Legolas, though she wouldn't admit how much.
"Gandalf, you can't mean to take her along?" Théoden protested as Ithilin was placed in the saddle in front of Aragorn.
"She goes, Théoden." The Istari answered warningly.
:Estel?:
Aragorn blinked in surprise at her voice in his head. "Did you say something, Ithilin?"
:Yes.: she said, settling against him. :I'm tired.:
The ranger glanced over at Legolas who was hoisting Gimli up behind him. "Should I let her sleep, Legolas?" He asked quietly in elvish.
"Yes, as much as she can." The fair being nudged Arod up beside Hasufel and wiped the blood from Ithilin's chin, then handed the cloth to Aragorn. "Keep this. You'll be needing it." Legolas' hand brushed her cheek, "Sleep, meleth. We will not stop until after nightfall."
* * *
Aragorn rode slowly to keep from jarring the little she-elf that slept against him. He noticed that Legolas kept looking back at them, worry etched in his blue eyes. He knew that the elf was angry that she had not been allowed to ride with him. In fact, the argument with Gandalf had been very heated. Both elves hated the idea of being separated, even for a minute. They tried to explain that Ithilin needed Legolas, but the wizard refused to budge.
The ranger started slightly when she nuzzled him as he had seen her do with Legolas many times over the last two months.
"Legolas!" he called, trying to still her movements.
The prince looked back and stifled a chuckle at the ranger's predicament. Reigning in Arod, he waited for Aragorn to catch up.
"What, you can't take care of that, Estel?" he smiled.
"Do I look like an elf?"
"You're not?!" Legolas said with feigned surprise, his blue eyes wide and sparkling with mirth. "I just assumed that you were, considering you were raised by Lord Elrond."
"Funny, Legolas, very funny." Aragorn grumbled good-naturedly, as he gently stopped Ithilin's unconscious attempts to find food. "Remind me why we're friends again?"
"Because I saved you arse so many times, that I've lost count and you owe me." The elf laughed, drawing a chuckle from the dwarf. "Gimli, you wouldn't mind riding with Aragorn, would you?"
"No, lad. Not if she needs you."
Legolas smiled his thanks and helped the dwarf over to Hasufel, behind Aragorn.
:Ithilin, wake.: his mind whispered as he touched her arm. :Come ride with me.:
:Legolas?: she blinked sleepily at him.
The elf unbuckled his quiver harness and unhooked his jerkin and tunic then gently lifted her over onto his horse, settling her so that she faced him.
:Drink you fill and go back to sleep, meleth-nîn. I have a feeling that Gandalf is going to chastise me for this.:
:What does he want me to do? Aragorn can not give me this.:
:I think he doesn't want you to depend wholly on me.: he answered, nuzzling her hair as he felt her lips against his skin.
She shifted slightly, wrapping her legs around his waist so she wasn't coming in contact with Arod's withers. :I never thought that I would be completely dependent on you.:
:I don't mind.: he laughed
:You will if things do not improve. You wouldn't be able to go anywhere without me.:
Legolas sobered, :I hadn't thought about that.:
:I like listening to your heartbeat.: she sighed, pressing her ear to his chest. :It's comforting.:
:So is having you at my breast. I don't know why my kin never bound, Ithilin. This brings me so much peace. I'm happy that I can give you what you need.:
Ithilin pulled away and gazed up into his eyes, "I'm glad that you love me that much, Legolas."
* * *
The near full moon bathed the empty river bed of the Isen in its silvery light. The bank and surrounding territory was devoid of all sounds of life save those that they themselves made. Legolas was uneasy though, as he dismounted. Something wasn't right here.
Gandalf had said nothing about Ithilin riding with Legolas until they made camp for the night. "You are not as shy about private matters as you once were, young one." He said, coming up behind the prince.
"Shall I let her starve?" The elf replied coolly, as he carefully lifted Ithilin down from the horse. His anger had abated somewhat, but he was still upset. "No, Gandalf, I don't like having to do this in the open, but I really don't have any other options."
The Istari chuckled softly. "I know, youngling. Now go get some rest."
Legolas helped her settle in for the night then went to join Aragorn and Gimli for a sketchy supper. Ithilin had hardly let him have a moments rest while they rode, yet he never denied her his milk. He hadn't eaten since breakfast and his stomach was beginning to war with his spine, he was so hungry.
"How is she, lad?" Gimli asked, handing him a bowl of stew.
The prince wrinkled his nose at the strong smell of the thick soup and nearly gagged. "Please tell me this isn't all there is to eat."
"What's wrong, Legolas? You look ill." Aragorn asked, taken aback by the elf's reaction to the food. "You've never had a problem with stews in the past."
"I don't know? Here, you smell it." The fair being coughed, passing the bowl to the ranger.
"What? Doesn't she like the food?" one of the Rohirrim, behind them, said mockingly.
"You know how it is with breeding women, Éorl," another joined in, "Can't hold a thing down."
Legolas' eyes blazed but he said nothing. They were nothing but uneducated men who knew nothing of elves and their ways. But would he have been any different a few months ago? He had known nothing of bound elves, coming from a line of royalty that wed solely to cement alliances, not for love. His own father might even say that he was fay if he saw Ithilin at his breast. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of what Thranduil would do to him, knowing what the elven king was capable of, if he ever found out.
"Did you put something in this?" Aragorn growled, knowing the elf's sensitivity to certain spices.
"It's just venison stew, m'lord. Nothing's in it that would hurt even the weest babe."
Aragorn tasted the stew in the elf's bowl and coughed. Lothruin. A very potent spice that Legolas avoided like the plague. He well remembered the last time Legolas had had the seasoning. Elrohir had thought it would be funny to slip some into the prince's wine. Unfortunately, it made Legolas violently ill all over Elrohir. And these morons had used it liberally in the prince's dinner.
"Here, Legolas, you finish mine." he said giving the elf his half eaten bowl. "I'll take care of these nifts."
"It doesn't matter what the humans are saying, Aragorn. However feminine I appear to them, I am still one of the deadliest warriors of my race."
"You sell yourself short, lad." Gimli said gruffly, "I have met many elves on this journey and you, my friend, are the most dangerous. Merely because you don't look like you could harm a flee."
"Thank you, Gimli. I'm touched."
"Yeah, in the head." Aragorn teased, getting up to force the tampered stew down the offenders throats.
"No more than you, Estel." The elf's eyes gleamed fiendishly in the silver moonlight.
"Well, who wouldn't be? Look who I have for friends."
"Yes, but with friends like us, who needs Sauron? Huh?" the elf grinned.
Aragorn groaned and rolled his eyes.
Gimli laughed heartily at their exchange. "Then the Dark Lord had better think twice about coming after us, hadn't he?"
Now it was Aragorn's turn to laugh, until he saw Legolas' expression change and his blond head snap in Ithilin's direction. A heartbeat later, the prince had disappeared into the darkness.
* * *
"No! Stop!" she cried softly, feebly fighting the hands that tried to restrain her. "No more, please!"
"Sîdh, meleth-nîn. Non sí." Came the whispered words, but she was caught in the hellish nightmare of her remembered ordeal.
"Please stop! You're hurting me!"
"Ithilin, sîdh. 'Tis I, Legolas." Though soft, the words sounded on the edge of panic. Yet they couldn't break through the terror that she was reliving.
* * * The Uruk had thrown her to the ground. Stunned, she couldn't react until it was too late. And by that time, he was on top of her tearing at her clothing.
She had fought briefly but he had caught her hands and pinned them above her head in one of his enormous hands. She felt his hot, rancid breath against her neck as his vile tongue bathed her ear. His free hand ripped open her jerkin and tunic and crushed the soft mounds of flesh, that he found there, in his powerful grip.
Terror coursed through her as she was relieved of her leggings. The misborn forced her legs apart, driving himself inside her with such force that she was sure she was being rent in two. She wanted to scream, the pain was so great. Yet she could find no voice to do so.
Pain engulfed her. Her eyes watered and all she could see was stars and the horrible visage of the Uruk leering maliciously down at her. * * *
"NO! STOP!" the scream broke through the stillness of the camp.
Legolas had stopped fighting her and moved away a little, tears streaming silently down his fair cheeks as he rested his head on his knees. He was frightened for her.
"Ithilin, where are you?" he said in a hitched whisper.
"Make it stop!" she whimpered. "Legolas, please make it stop!"
The elf looked over at his mate. Pain filled eyes met his in the silvery darkness. He uncurled himself and crawled toward her, not bothering to hide his own pain and fear.
"Non sí, meleth-nîn." He whispered, gathering her into his lap.
"How can you love me, Legolas?" she sobbed against his chest. "After all of this, how can you love me?"
"How can I not?"
"Do you still want me?" she asked. "I would understand-"
Legolas' heart contracted in his chest. He knew why she would ask that, but it hurt to hear her say it. "Yes."
"Why?"
"Words are a poor expression of how I feel, Ithilin."
His lips met hers in a soft kiss. His slender hands cupped her face, his long fingers sliding up the shell of her slightly pointed ears to caress the nearly imperceptible tips.
"I asked you those same questions when I returned to Rivendell." He whispered. "And you gave me the same answers."
"Make me forget."
"Here?" He choked. He understood that she needed this, but this was not the ideal spot. He preferred a more secluded setting.
Hot tears of rejection welled up in her eyes. "It's all right, Legolas," she said in tight whisper. "You don't have to."
Legolas' eyes blazed. "Ithilin, I don't ever want to hear that again. Do you understand?" he said a little more sharply than he had intended to.
Ithilin shrank away from him, avoiding his gaze.
"Look at me."
Her eyes were locked on the ground.
Gently, his hand brushed her cheek, sliding down her jaw to cup her chin. "Please look at me, meleth-nîn,"
"You are ashamed of what they did to me." She said in a pained whisper.
"No," he replied, pain clear in his voice. "A'maelamin, it's not . . .Oh, hell. Gimli is going to tease me unmercifully about this, you know."
A timid smile appeared on her lips as she reached tentatively for the little silver clasps that held his jerkin and tunic closed. Encouraged when he didn't stop her, she slowly began to unhook them. She pushed the soft fabric off his shoulders, her fingers trailing lightly over his chest and up his throat to his jaw. He lifted his head slightly, resting his chin on the top of her head as she kissed the hollow of his throat. She nuzzled the base of his jaw, feeling his low purr of pleasure against her face
He pulled back just enough to capture her lips with his own. Gently, he caressed her shoulders, sending a hesitant pulse of desire along the bond. The response he received, though shaky, was encouraging. He pressed his tongue gently against her lips and felt her open her mouth to let him inside. He wanted this as much as she needed it, but he knew that she would fight him if he was too rough. It took all his self control to keep his love making gentle.
She leaned back as his tongue slid into her mouth, his strong arms supporting her all the way to the hard earth. His silky golden hair fell over his shoulders, brushing her cheeks as he knelt over her. Her hands wandered over his torso, coming to rest on the laces on his leggings.
"Not yet." He whispered, his lips trailing to her ear. "I could hurt you if I took you now."
"I need you!"
"Hush, meleth. Iston."
He felt her hands leave his body. Fearing that he had upset her, he drew away a little, confusion lighting his features. He smiled with relief when he saw that she was frantically trying to undo her own clothing.
"Let me." He murmured, covering her hands with his and slowly unfastened the catches. He refused to expose her more than he needed to because, although his vision had narrowed to just her, he knew that they were being watched. Yet he could not deny her what she needed most, him.
The last hook yielded beneath his hands, revealing the scarred flesh of her torso. Gingerly, he let his hands wander over her skin. He could see, in the moonlight, that the bruises were fading and the burns were being replaced by soft, new skin. The physical scars would disappear within the next few days, but the emotional damage could take years to heal. What his father had done to him was nothing in comparison to what she had suffered.
He bent down and touched his lips to the rise of her breast, feeling her rise slightly to meet his touch. He took his time in pleasuring her because her reactions were so curbed by the abuse, that he had to look for the slightest response in her body language.
She trembled beneath him as his hands slid down toward her leggings and he knew with horrible certainty that it was a dual response, one of fear and one of desire. Which was stronger, he knew not but he hoped that her desire for him would over shadow the fear.
"Are you sure you want me to do this, Ithilin?" he asked softly, gazing into her dark eyes.
"Yes." She whimpered, fear evident in her voice.
Slowly he untied the laces of her breeches and slid them past her hips to the tops of her boots. He hoped she wouldn't feel trapped by the fabric restricting her movements. "Tell me to stop if I hurt you, all right?"
She nodded, watching him slide his own leggings down and kneel between her legs. She cried out softly as he entered her, fear making her recoil from him.
"Hush," he said soothingly, the back of his fingers brushing her cheek. "It's all right. I will not to hurt you."
"Legolas," she pleaded, her voice breaking with sobs. "I want to forget them. Please, make me forget."
Legolas tried to swallow the past the lump in his throat. What had they done to his beautiful Ithilin? She had always been so strong, so loving. Now she was like a broken doll, weak and frightened.
"Remember the night we bound, Ithilin?" He said, trying to turn her thoughts to a happier time as his hips rocked against hers. "Remember how angry I was at Estel? Remember the bath? And the chase?"
"Yes."
"Let us relive that night. We are new bound and none of these last twenty years have happened."
Lost in the memory of that night, the two elves came together without fear and without pain. Their lovemaking, though hesitant, was that of young lovers exploring the delights of each others bodies for the first time. For a few hours, at least, she was his young bride and he was just the young elf prince who captured her heart.
As the moon reached its zenith and after they had put themselves back in order, Ithilin curled into his embrace.
"Hush, now, Ithilin. I am here." He murmured into her hair, holding her close as she sobbed quietly against his bare chest.
"Don't let me forget that night again, Legolas." Her voice was soft and hitched by sobs but it had lost the note of hopelessness.
He smiled and kissed her forehead, "I doubt that you will, meleth. Sleep now."
He heard her sigh and felt her relax against him in sleep. He loved her more than life and while it hurt him to see her like this, he knew that she would be stronger for it.
Behind him, he heard someone cough and he shifted to look at the interloper. Aragorn and Gimli stood a few yards away, staring resolutely in opposite directions. Legolas groaned softly, knowing that they had seen.
"Are you done?" the human asked, mirth coloring his words as he glanced in the elf's direction.
The poor elf didn't know what to say. He was caught between incredulousness and embarrassment. Picking up a small stone, he chucked it at the ranger.
"Ouch." He hissed as the rock hit his arm. "Jeez, is this the thanks I get for keeping the nosy Rohirrim away from you for a couple of hours?"
"When you ask if I'm done, it is, Telcontar." Legolas growled, though he was grateful to the human and the dwarf for protecting their privacy. "What do I do about a nosy ranger and dwarf, though?"
"Nothing, lad, if you know what's good for you." The dwarf burred testily.
"I thank you, mellyn-nîn." Legolas chuckled. He could trust that his friends wouldn't say anything to anyone about what they witnessed. "Come rest. It is many hours, yet, before dawn."
* * *
Later, the four of them woke to the cry of the watchmen. No moonlight bathed the empty river bed. The only light came from the few stars shining overhead. Yet over the ground, a darkness blacker than night crawled, like a stalking predator, on both sides of the river heading northward.
"Stay where you are!" Gandalf commanded. "Draw no weapons! Wait! And it will pass you by!"
Protectively, Legolas curled around Ithilin. She huddled in the safety of his arms, pressing as close to him as she could get. He could almost taste her fear, it was so real.
"Aragorn, Gimli." He called softly to his companions. "Come closer."
Both the ranger and the dwarf didn't question the elf's request. They wanted to get away from the approaching shadow and the elf's natural light gave them a sense of security.
The earth shook violently beneath them and all about them came the sound of tortured whisperings and groanings. Above, only a few stars twinkled faintly but the walls of shadow blocked out most of the night sky. Long minutes of shear terror passed slowly before the darkness rolled by, vanishing between the mountain's arms.
A collective sigh rose up from the group, once the glittering night sky and silver moon were again visible.
Legolas uncurled, letting Ithilin relax a little. Yet the she-elf did not move away from him. He looked down at her. Her eyes were like dark saucers, only a pencil line of blue circled the outside of the pupil.
"Non sí, meleth-nîn. You are safe." He breathed, nuzzling her ear.
"Don't leave me."
"Aragorn and Gimli are here, Ithilin." He said reassuringly, "If I have to relieve myself, you'll be safe enough."
She nodded, "Forgive me. I'm being foolish."
Legolas chuckled, hugging her to him. "You're allowed, but just this once."
"Don't let it happen again, though." Aragorn teased, seeing that Legolas was trying to lighten her mood.
"Aye, lass." Gimli put in, a mischievous gleam in his green eyes. "Or we may have to toss you into a lake."
"Assuming that we can find one on short notice." The ranger said ruffling her hair.
"A stream would do, I suppose, if a lake is hard to come by." Said the dwarf.
"How about a bucket? You're rather fond of those, aren't you, Legolas?" Aragorn grinned.
The elf groaned. "If I never see another bucket of water again, it will be too soon. You and your brothers were determined to send me home looking like a drowned cat that summer, weren't you."
"We did our best." The human yawned, stretching.
Burrowing closer to her mate, Ithilin laughed softly at the image they invoked. With that, she fell asleep against Legolas with a lighter heart.
No one else slept, though, fearing the shadow would return. Yet nothing else strange disturbed the stillness of the night, save one. With an initial rush of water upon the stones of its bed, the Isen bubbled and sang in its course once more.
* * *
The sun did not rise with the dawn, but with a thick fog that hung gray and heavy about them. The company mounted up and resumed their journey to Isengard.
After some miles, the highway narrowed into a paved street with deep gutters on either side filled with trickling water. Looming before them, through the mists, stood a tall obsidian pillar with a carved white hand pointing north.
Ithilin shivered in Legolas' embrace. "I can't go back there." she said apprehensively.
"Gimli, Aragorn and I are here, Ithilin."
"Aye, lass. I'll not let any orcs take you again." The small being growled protectively from his perch behind Aragorn, "I'll hew them into pieces, should they lay a hand on your pretty head again."
"Legolas, I'm afraid."
"Look at me." He commanded gently, tucking a strand of honey colored hair behind her ear. When she looked up, he continued. "I know your fear, hervess-nîn. I share it. But you can no more avoid confronting your tormentors then you could giving birth."
"I don't want to do this."
"Iston." He sighed. "I wish you didn't have to, but you have no other choice."
"As long as I do not have to face them alone, I will say nothing more."
"Not even Eru could keep me from standing with you, meleth-nîn."
She nuzzled his neck and laughed softly when she felt his low purr against her forehead.
"I didn't know that elves purred like cats!" Aragorn laughed in disbelief.
"I guess there are a few things left that I can surprise you with then, Strider." The prince shot back, a smile playing at the corners of his slender mouth.
As Gandalf rode past the pillar, the great hand no longer appeared white, but stained dark with blood. Great pools of water filled the hollows beside the road, creating waterfalls and eddies as it trickled along.
"These are ill tidings, Gandalf, " Théoden said to the Istari, glancing back to where Ithilin rode facing Legolas. "I still question the sanity of bringing that girl along. Who knows what we will face here. She can barely stand, let alone defend herself."
"I assure you, Théoden, she can easily defend herself against what lies ahead." The wizard replied. "And I doubt her mate will let any touch her, save Aragorn, Gimli or myself."
"But she is so frail."
"Do not be deceived by appearances. Her apparent 'frailty', as you put it, is her greatest strength. She is stronger then even she knows at this time."
Théoden looked back at her. How could such a delicate creature not need the protection of men? She seemed so dependent on the elf for her very life. Yet, when her intense sapphire gaze met his he sensed an untold courage that had yet to be tested.
As they rode onward, the mists cleared and Orthanc rose before them, a towering and forbidding structure still, in its ruined state.
The company halted before the ruined gates of Isengard, surveying the destruction that lay about them in awe. What could have wreaked such damage?
"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" came a voice from the rubble heap beside them. "We are the door wardens. One Meriadoc Brandybuck and one Peregrin Took at you service, good sirs. The Lord Saruman is within, closeted with a one Wormtongue or he would doubtless be here to welcome such honored lords."
Gandalf laughed heartily, "No doubt that he would. Was it he that charged you with guard duty upon these doors and watch for guests?"
"Nay, we were charged with this task by Treebeard. He commanded us to give welcome to the Lord of Rohan."
Gimli was fairly bursting with joy. "You . . . you . . . you rascals!" he cried, "What of you companions? Hammer and tongs! You've led us on a fine chase, you have! And we find you feasting and smoking! Where did you come by the weed?"
Aragorn and the two elves chuckled at the gruff dwarf's emotional display.
"You speak for us as well, Gimli." Legolas laughed, "Though, truth be told, I would rather find out how they came by the wine."
"'Tis past noon," Gandalf said, "and we not eaten since daybreak."
"And some of us, since we camped for the night." Legolas muttered testily, drawing snickers from the human and the dwarf as well as a sharp look from the wizard.
"Treebeard, bid me ask you, my Lord of the Mark and Gandalf, to ride to the northern wall and he will welcome you." Merry said politely.
"Come, Théoden. Let us leave these five at their ease and seek out Treebeard."
The King nodded and rode with Gandalf and his men north toward the wall.
* * *
Some time later the Rohirrim and Gandalf returned.
"Come, hên." Gandalf said helping Ithilin to her feet. "We must speak with Saruman.."
"Ada. I wish to put it behind me, not relive it." She said resisting his gentle tug on her arm.
"Yet to put Saruman's and Wormtongue's grievous crimes in the past, you must face them."
"I would rather forget them."
"But you can't, can you?" the wizard said, lifting her chin to look her in the eye. "I would that it had never happened, little one, but you are stronger now because of it. Rise above the darkness in your heart and find hope that you can be free of Saruman's prison."
The little she-elf looked away from his intense gaze, sighing heavily. How could she face these men who tortured her and raped her? How could she feel anything but hate for what they did? Hate was power. Power she wanted over her tormentors.
"If the path to freedom is through darkness and pain then that is the path I must trod." she replied slowly, trying to swallow her fear.
"Non sí, meleth-nîn. I, too, must find forgiveness for them."
She felt his strong, slender arms slide about her waist, holding her to his body protectively. She realized that she wasn't the only one hurt by Saruman's and Wormtongue's abuse. What had been done to her, had been done to him as well. Legolas' heart and strength had been with her throughout the ordeal. And it was by his will alone that she still lived to confront these men. Left to herself, she would have given up long before she reached Isengard the first time.
Gandalf smiled at the elven prince as the young elf rested his chin on top of her head. He had known from the beginning that they had bound, though he hadn't let on. Theirs had been a difficult pairing. They had been torn away from one another shortly after they had bound. And Legolas' father had forced the prince into a marriage that should have never been. Gandalf had tried to reason with Thranduil, but the arrogant king wouldn't listen. Yet he marveled at how the bond between them had not only survived but continued to grow and strengthen over the years. Very few elves had a bonding this tight. Though he knew not what lay ahead, he was certain that these two young ones would be together to the end.
"Saruman!" Gandalf commanded as he struck the door with his staff, "Saruman, come forth!"
An eerie silence was followed by the sound of the window above the door being slid open.
"Who is it? What is it you want?" called a voice from the darkness beyond the door.
"I know that voice and ever will I curse it's first hearing." Théoden said, startled.
Ithilin shuddered involuntarily at the sound and backed closer to Legolas.
"Saruman, since you be his footman, Grima Wormtongue." Said Gandalf impatiently, "Yet one of our number also has business with you."
"What have I done to incur the wrath of you, old man?"
"'Tis not I that has a quarrel with you, this time, but a certain she-elf that was held prisoner here but two days since."
"What she-elf?" Wormtongue replied silkily.
Ithilin wanted to reach through the tiny opening and throttle the snake. "You know perfectly well what she-elf, delos o cuil." She hissed vehemently.
Legolas' and Aragorn's eyebrows leapt into their hairline. Neither of them had ever heard her speak like that. That particular term was considered the ultimate swear word among the elves. It was rarely used for the reason that it referred to the person as being misborn.
"You did to me what you would have done to Théoden's niece, if you had been given half the chance."
"I know not of what you speak, my lady."
"Come out here and face me, coward!" She growled, her hand sliding to the hilt of her sword. "Or are you afraid of facing a woman who is unfettered?!"
She was angry. And while it was justified, it was not productive.
"Ithilin," Legolas whispered softly in her ear, "although he certainly merits a painful death in my book, let it not be by our hands that he is slain."
Ithilin spun on her mate, anger, pain, humiliation, and hate burning in her sapphire eyes. "How dare you council me thus, Legolas Greenleaf!" she spat in elvish. "You, of all people, know intimately what this sorry excuse for a human did to me! And you ask that I spare his life?"
"Were it yours to take, guren, I would let you be. I ask only that you listen to your heart and do as it bids."
"And what would you do, were it you that had been tortured and raped?"
"Ithilin!" the elf shouted, "I will repudiate you if this continues."
Aragorn looked at his friend, dumbfounded. He never thought Legolas would even think of doing that. He had heard of that happening, but the consequences of such a repudiation were painful to both parties. And knowing how strong their bond was, he knew that Legolas was risking death to bring Ithilin back to sanity.
Tears slid down the she-elf's soft cheeks. She had almost given in to the darkness raging in her heart. And almost lost the one thing she could not afford to lose. She swallowed hard and turned back to the door, looking deep within herself for the will to forgive these men. She had seen what hate had done to them. It had twisted their minds so that lies sounded like truth and drove them to stamp out all that was light and good in the world. No. She would not let her anger and fear rule her. She would not fall into the darkness of hate. If she did not forgive them, how could she expect to fully heal. They would pay for their crimes in Eru's time, not hers.
"It has been long since you have known truth. For long years have Saruman and Sauron fed you lies and deceit. What you did to me was nothing more than a culmination of the falsehoods that they gave you." She said softly. "I forgive you."
"Pretty words from a pretty slave." Wormtongue sneered from behind the door.
Legolas growled audibly but said nothing.
"Go and fetch your master, snake." Gandalf said.
The window snapped shut, leaving them to wait in silence.
All Ithilin wanted to do was seek comfort in her mate's arms but their meeting was far from over. She still had to face Saruman.
"Why must you disturb my rest?" came the wizard's voice from above.
"I have business with you, Saruman!" she called.
"I speak not to half grown women who know not their place, child. Let your elders do your speaking for you." The Istari replied smoothly.
"Dare you speak thus to the Coithuliel?"
"I know of no such person." Saruman said. "But I pray you, let me first speak with to the King of Rohan. What say you, Théoden King?"
Théoden stood enthralled and could not find his tongue to answer.
"Lord, hear me! Do we stand amazed by a liar with honey on his forked tongue?" Éomer spoke heatedly, trying to break Saruman's spell. "I ask you, my lord, to remember Théodred at the Fords and the graves of those who perished at Helm's Deep! He is treacherous and a murderer! Seek not his aid!"
Saruman laughed but anger was on his lips, "My lord of Rohan, am I to be called a murderer because valiant men have fallen in battle."
"Murder is murder, however you care to justify it!" Ithilin cried. "Good, honest men and elves died! And for what? Your vanity, my lord? Sauron has lied to you if you -"
"Silence, wench!"
"I will not be silenced! How many have died before me in that chamber, Saruman!? How many of them were elves? Blood does not lie!"
"You are a liar, Saruman, cold and cruel. So like your dark master who stretches out his clawed hand from the darkness of Mordor." Théoden said, coming out of his stupor. "Even were you ten times as wise, you would not have the right to rule me or the people of Rohan." His eyes blazed angrily as he thought of the boys, men and elves who lay dead upon the Deeping wall and of the horrors that the wild men had done to the villages of the Westfold. "What of the torches your men put to the villages in the Westfold and those that there lie dead?"
"What of the babes that cry hungrily at their mother's dead breast? What of the mothers that mourn their young sons?" Ithilin called out. She knew of the nightmare that the wizard unleashed upon Rohan. She had heard the weeping of the women of Rohan, even as she lay in the sleep of death, as they buried their children. "Can you ease their grief? Can you bring their dead back to life?"
"Go back to your caves and huts!" the Istari hissed. "Gandalf, how can you endure the company of dotards, mad prattling elves, and tag-alongs? Dismiss these lesser folk from your thought. Together we could heal the disorders of this world. Will you not come up? I am more than willing to overlook the past and receive you. Let us understand one another. Let them wait on our decisions."
Gandalf laughed heartily, "You should have been a court jester, Saruman! Ah, me!" he paused, gaining control over his mirth. "I understand you all too well, now. The last time I visited you, you would have sent me in chains to Mordor. And my daughter as well no doubt, if you had been given half the chance. Nay, I do not think I will come up. But perhaps you will come down?"
Saruman paled. He was frightened. Yet when he finally spoke, his voice was shrill and cold and full of hatred.
"I can hear well enough here. I do not trust you, Gandalf. I am no fool."
"I am giving you one last chance to be free, Saruman. I have no desire to kill you or hurt you in any manner. You would know that if you understood me half as well as you believe you do. You can leave Orthanc, free - if you choose." Gandalf replied wearily.
"Can you give me back what you took from me, Saruman?" Ithilin said quietly, not daring to look up at the wizard who stood on the balcony above yet her voice broke with grief. "Can you give me back my innocence? My life? 'Tis not just the women of Rohan who mourn."
Théoden starred at her. What had the wizard done to her? Yet when the Istari spoke again, he did not address the little she-elf.
"How very kind of you Gandalf the Gray. And condescending. But why should I leave? And if I choose to, there are to be conditions, I presume?"
"Look about you, Saruman. Your servants are destroyed. You have made enemies of your neighbors and you have cheated your new master. I would dread that the eye of his wrath find me cheating him, were I his servant." Gandalf answered.
"Cheated?" Saruman laughed, sounding on the verge of hysteria. "Of what?"
"The Coithuliel and the Heir of Isildur, perhaps? We both know that the race of Men would be doomed without one of them."
"Man is doomed to fail with or without them, Gandalf. Man is weak. You are a fool to believe in prattling elves with fairy tale prophecies."
Gandalf shook his head. "You have never believed that there could possibly be someone wiser than you, Saruman. That has always been your failing. And for that I pity you." He paused looking down at Ithilin, but she would not look up. "You are free to go as you will, but you will first surrender to me the Key of Orthanc and your staff."
"As well as the Keys to Barad-dûr itself, I suppose You'll have, too, the staves of Five wizards and the crowns of seven kings?" Saruman screamed, "I have other matters which need my attention. If you wish to treat with me, go away and come back when you are sober!" He turned and left the balcony.
"I did not yet give you leave to go, Saruman. Come back!" Gandalf commanded.
Saruman turned again and was unwillingly dragged back to the balustrade by an unseen force.
"Stay then! Stay and eat away at the ends of your old plots. But you shall not again touch the daughter of Varda." He cried. "Behold, Saruman! I am not the Istari you betrayed, Gandalf the Gray, but Gandalf the White who has returned from death. For your crimes, I cast you from the order and from the Council. Your staff is broken! Now, go!"
Just as Saruman fell back and crawled away a shining globe came hurtling down and bounced off the iron railing where he once stood. The iron snapped with a foreboding clang. The sphere sped close to Gandalf's head and nearly hit Ithilin. Legolas reached out and grabbed her away from its path, hunching over her protectively. The stair, on which Gandalf stood, cracked and splintered in a shower of glittering sparks as the heavy crystal hit. It rolled down the steps, heading for one of the pools.
"A parting shot from Master Wormtongue, but badly aimed." Gandalf said.
"Could he not make up his small mind whom he hated more?" Aragorn asked, a cockeyed smile playing on his lips.
"Perhaps." The wizard chuckled, "If Wormtongue comes out of there alive, it will be more than he deserves after what he has done. What ever happens, the punishment will be just. Come, let us leave this place."