Title: Diplomacy 20
Author: Arisma
Rating: R Disclaimer: To the tune of Leslie Gore, "You don't own me"- I don't own it; don't try to claim it in any way. I don't own it; don't hunt me down 'cause I'll never pay! . Feedback: chalice_nazarene@hotmail.com -*--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**-- **--**--*-
They rode silently, stretched in a single file line. Conversation had ceased to be appealing hours ago. Legolas stretched his back as best he could, wincing as the pain flared hot for a moment before falling into the familiar dull ache. Surely they must reach their destination soon. Or, at the very least, stop somewhere for a rest.
Craning his neck he looked to Rhya, riding directly behind him, her gaze fixed on the far horizon. She swayed easily with the horses' movements, only the pallor of her cheeks and a slight compression of her lips revealing her pain. He watched her hand drift lower, caressing her abdomen absentmindedly.
Her gaze shifted and he felt the now familiar shock that filled him whenever their eyes met. He smiled encouragingly at her and she returned the gesture, her eyes narrowing as she briefly popped her tongue out in his direction. Shaking his head and grinning he turned, settling again into the monotony of the ride.
Slowly the light around them increased, the sky ahead of them beginning to blaze with a luminous orange fire. Cresting a final dune he felt his breath catch as he gazed upon a beautiful, sheltered, valley. As they began to descend into the depths, Legolas' eyes swept the vista, trying to see all that stretched before him.
The scene was washed with fire from the sky, but even in that strange light the vibrancy of the place struck him. Tents stretched the length of the valley; large, elaborate things made of vibrantly dyed silks. Banners atop each fluttered in the faint breeze, strange symbols rippling, suggesting life.
And life there was. After inspecting the tents he shifted his attention to the occupants of the place, expecting to see the same black clad figures that were their guides. Instead he saw brightly clad people, women in full, flowing skirts, men in baggy trousers, children dressed like miniature copies of their elders.
The line stopped and they dismounted, flexing muscles stiff from the extended ride. Two women came forward, their faces covered by thin, bejeweled veils. One woman led the majority of the group away, the other gathered Kailin, Kallo and Rhya together. He moved to stand protectively next to Rhya but the woman merely smiled benignly and motioned them to follow.
He felt fingers brush his and twined his hand with Rhya's, squeezing it in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. The woman led them through the curving, haphazard lanes between the bright tents. He saw all manner of people, craftsmen, artists. He smelled fresh baking bread and his stomach rumbled loudly. Chagrined, he pressed a hand to his gut, shaking his head at his rebellious body.
He lost all sense of direction as they walked, the world seeming to become a blur of faces and colors. Finally she stopped before a large tent, dyed a deep green and parted the door drapings, waving them inside. Inside it was surprisingly dim and much cooler then he would have thought. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and he very nearly jumped when he saw the seated figures, unmoving and silent.
He looked to his companions, unsure of the situation, and his place in it. His surprise was complete when Kailin stepped forward, bowing low. His voice sounded different then Legolas remembered when he spoke, deeper, more commanding. "We have returned, as we promised we would. These are the two of whom we spoke." He gestured towards Rhya and again at Legolas, his eyes fixed on the semi circle before him.
As Kailin spoke Legolas took the opportunity to inspect the assemblage, noting that two of the seated figure wore the draping veils he had seen outside, three wearing the face concealing wraps similar to those of their guides. He saw the eyes of one of the women focus on him,briefly flickering to Rhya and then fixing again on Kailin.
The man in the center stood, gesturing to low pillows Legolas had somehow missed in his inspection. "Welcome again, Kailin Lasgalen and you as well, Kallo Nessar. You have come in peace and in that spirit we are as one. Be seated, brothers." He spoke Elvish, his accent thick and strange, twisting the familiar phrases, giving them a hint of something ancient.
The two, so addressed, bowed again and moved to the side, lowering themselves onto the pillows, their faces calm, passive. The man took a step towards them and Legolas instinctively stepped forward, partially blocking Rhya with his own body. Immediately the man stopped walking, his hands raising, palms flattened. "Have no fear, you are safe here." His voice was low, sincere, and Legolas felt himself relaxing.
"We have much to discuss, Taren Lasgalen. I can explain much for you, if you would but listen. I think some of this may even surprise you, Tarien Nessar." His eyes were bright, focused intently on each as he spoke, as though only they existed while in his attentions. "But, I have forgotten my manners. You have ridden long, and you are as yet unused to the waste. Miela will show you to your quarters. Refreshment will be brought to you. After you are rested, we will speak."
He remained standing, but moved backwards, allowing the woman to his right to stand. She was willowy and tall, her face hidden but her eyes bright above her veil. Kailin and Kallo stood as well, allowing the woman to walk past them. As they were preparing to leave, the man said quietly, "Eru go with you."
He felt Rhya stiffen beside him and turn, saw her eyes widen. "And remain with you." she said, a whisper of a voice, her face full of confusion.
The woman cleared her throat and began walking and Legolas and Rhya followed, each silent, lost in thought. They walked together but a short distance. The woman gestured to a small gray tent, and Kallo ducked inside, nodding his goodbye, respecting the veil of silence that surrounded them.
A bit further away and Kailin was shown to a similar sized tent, striped in yellow and green, pale and quite lovely. Before he entered he turned, grasping Legolas by the forearm. "It's okay, Leaf. This is for the best, be calm." He turned then to Rhya, gently touching her cheek before ducking beneath the brightly covered door hanging, leaving the three of them to finish their journey.
As they moved away again, Rhya clasped his hand, tightly, and Legolas felt the tension in her for the first time. He squeezed gently, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles. She leaned close as they walked, whispering. "Don't leave me, love. I don't want to be alone, now."
He nodded, squeezing her hand again. "I never intended to. It was never a question." He felt some of the tension leave her at the sureness of his voice, a small smile even pulling briefly at the edges of her mouth. With a final squeeze she released his hand, standing tall, proud, drawing strength from his mere presence.
The tent the woman stopped in front of now was larger than the ones the others had received, a deep green thinly striped with purple. She separated the hangings and waved towards the dim interior. They stood uncertain for a moment and she spoke, her accent again adding a profound and ancient lilt to the words. "Please, enter. I assure you all is well. This has been specially prepared for you both." She saw them relax as she spoke, inclining her head as she stepped back further. "Food and water will be brought to you soon. Please relax. Enjoy yourselves, as time permits."
Rhya stepped forward and entered, seeming to disappear as she did so. Quickly Legolas followed, his eyes expecting, and adjusting to the dimness faster than before. The flap slid down behind him, dimming the interior further.
Small lanterns were strung from the ceiling, tasseled pillows heaped in the center, embroidered rugs layered thickly beneath their feet. A brazier burned incense on a small table, the smell of cinnamon and other, less definable scents hanging in the air. Walking forward together, they parted a curtain, gazing at the bedchamber beyond. The bed was large, round, draped in white silk, the bedclothes of pale green, embroidered with tiny, silver leaves. On it lay two outfits, in the style of the place, one for a male and one for a female.
"They were expecting us." said Rhya, walking forward and letting the thin material of her new garments slip through her fingers.
"So it seems." He answered, watching her from the doorway. "Do you know who they are?" he asked, his voice calm. She shook her head no, but she paled, swallowed hard. He nodded, accepting her answer. She raised her eyes to meet his and he saw fear lurking in the crystalline depths.
He stepped forward, cupping her face gently. "Soon we will have the answers, love. Soon." She nodded and leaned into his palms, smiling lightly.
"I know. I am just afraid that they are not the answers I want." her voice was small, frightened, and he felt his heart ache with longing, wishing desperately that he could tell her what she wanted to hear, that he could fix it all.
He pulled her to him, holding her firmly, yet gently to his chest, stroking his hand along the length of her hair. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered. "We will make them what we want them to be, love. Together, we will do it." She nodded and leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He closed his eyes and willed his words to truth, sending a swift plea to Eru to help make it so.
They heard a soft jingling of bells and turned towards the sound, watching as two women swept in, robed and swathed in blues and purples, their faces also concealed. With a low bow they began to move around the inside of the tent, lighting more of the small lanterns, refilling braziers. They disappeared for a moment and returned, carrying two large trays of food, setting it out on a low table amid the cushions. They bowed again and retreated, quick and efficient.
They stood in the doorway together, as they had through the visitation, and looked over the food. The lights were dimmer, the smoke from the renewed incense swirling in the air, making an intricate dance in the eddies and drafts. The smells of the food, spicy and fragrant, drifted to them and again Legolas' stomach rumbled. Without speaking they separated and settled into the cushions, facing one another.
They ate slowly, in silence, flickering looks across the table. The spice in the dishes was pleasant and somehow, strangely familiar to him. He watched Rhya intently, noting the ease with which she held the strangely curved forks, the way she seemed to pick from the offered dishes with forethought and knowledge. His brow furrowed and when next their eyes met she noticed it. Paling, she set the fork down, her head bowed. "You are angry with me." she stated, her voice sad.
With a sigh he set his own fork down and reclined slightly, running a hand through his long tresses. "I'm not angry." he said, shaking his head in negation. Silently she stood, crossing to kneel by his side. With gentle fingers she touched the crinkling of his forehead, wordlessly examining his face. "This says otherwise, Legolas."
He sighed again and grasped her hand, searching briefly for the words. "I am frustrated, Rhya. I am hurt and confused and I do not understand why you are keeping so much from me." His voice was calm, kind, his eyes locked with hers. He could see some unnamed emotion swirling in her navy depths, but she met his gaze steadily.
"I love you, Legolas." she said, her voice full of sincerity.
"And I you, but Rhya... I have never been anything but honest with you. I am an open book to you and yet you tell me nothing. Why, love?" he ran the calloused pad of his finger along her jaw as he spoke.
"I am afraid." her eyes flickered from his, lowering to the brightly colored pillows on which they rested.
"Of what Rhya? Of these people? Of Mondane? What are you afraid of?" He felt his calm waning, impatience pushing to the fore.
She shook her head, meeting his eyes again. "I have lived my life in the shadow of Mondane. I knew from the first moment that I would go to him. I loathe him, but I do not fear him."
"Then what is it?" His brow furrowed heavily, his tone displaying his rising ire.
She shook her head and looked away, her dark hair falling and blocking her face from his view.
Without thought he gripped her shoulders, turning her to face him, his tone demanding. "Dammit Rhya, talk to me!" She tried to rise, to walk away, but he was much stronger and held her, forcing her to face him. "Talk to me. Now." he said, his voice a low growl.
She turned to face him, her chin lifted to a haughty angle, her eyes blazing. "What do you want me to say to you? What do you want to hear That I fear losing you? That all that time my only fear was that when next I saw you, you would look at me with scorn? I've lived my life knowing that nothing would ever be mine. When I met you, touched you, was the first time I understood exactly what I could never have."
He turned, shifting his hands to her cheeks, feeling her tremble. He turned her face until their eyes met, holding her still when she tried to jerk away. "But you were wrong. Because you do. You have me. Until the end of my days, I am yours. Be that tomorrow or at the edge of eternity, I belong to you. If something were to force me from you, I would spend every waking moment trying to get back to your side.Without you I am but a shadow of myself. I am yours, Rhya. Yours."
Her eyes softened, the anger he had seen dissolving as he spoke. She raised her hand and touched his jaw, running her finger along the smooth flesh. "Mine?" she asked softly her voice trembling. He nodded softly watching her eyes. Her digits trailed to his neck, tracing the broad curve of his shoulder, her eyes following the movements.. "Mine?" she asked again, her voice small and hopeful. Again he nodded, raising his hand to hold hers, placing her hand on his chest, over his fast beating heart. After a moment she raised her eyes to meet his, "Mine?" her voice trembled, tears rising in her eyes.
Leaning forward, still pressing her hand to his chest he pressed a kiss to her lips, his eyes darkening. "Forever." he whispered.
A strangled whimper left her throat, her hands wrapping into his hair as she lifted herself astride him, feeling his hands pulling her towards him. Their lips met, their kiss frantic, passionate. She grasped his tunic and tore it from him, letting it fall. She ran her hands along the muscles of his chest, her fingers tracing the contours of them. Her mouth dropped so she could taste his skin, and he threw his head back, moaning as she trailed kisses on his suddenly over sensitive flesh.
She kissed back to his mouth, ignoring his moan of protest, finally meeting his lips again, kissing him deeply. "Mine." she whispered, and he nodded, wrapping his hands into her hair and pulling her into another frantic kiss. With eyes that glittered and hands that shook she divested him of his clothing, ripping it in her haste. Hastily she ripped of her own garments, flinging them haphazardly behind her.
He watched her, his breathing hitched, his eyes alight with passion. Slowly she lowered herself onto him, her eyes locked with his. He bit his lip but did not move, allowing her to set the pace of their lovemaking. She moved slowly, languidly, leaning forward to kiss him, pulling her lips a hairsbreadth from his. "Mine." she whispered, her breath catching.
In answer he grabbed her hips, turned so she lay beneath him. "Yours." he replied, taking control, continuing in the same slow pace. She sighed and pulled him towards her, running her fingers through his hair, kissing him with passion. Suddenly he grasped her hands, pulling them above her head. With one hand he held her, prone, never wavering from his slow, maddening movements. With his other hand he traced her body, slowly, his eyes following his hands progress.
"Beautiful." he whispered, pressing kisses to her throat, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin. She arched her back, tried briefly to wrest her hands from his grasp. He continued moving, faster now, harder, raising his eyes to meet hers. A thin sheen of sweat beaded her brow, her teeth worrying her lips. Leaning forward he kissed her passionately whispering, "Mine." She moaned and arched but remained silent and so he kissed her again, increasing the speed of his movements. "Mine." he repeated, searching her eyes, his tone insistent.
Still she remained silent and he began to move faster still, watching as her eyes flew open, her breathing nearly stopping, her body trembling beneath him. "Mine." he stated again and she gasped, trying to tear her hands from his grasp, twisting beneath him. Mercilessly he continued, feeling her trembling increase, her fingers curling around his restraining hand. Finally she flung her head back, her legs locking around his waist, cried out, "Yours!"
He pressed his face into the cup of her neck as his own release hit him, gasping. He released his grip on her wrists, feeling her arms immediately slide around his waist. "Yours." she whispered again, her voice soft, trembling.
He lifted his face and kissed her lips. "Mine." he answered, smiling tiredly. Slowly he stood and pulled her with him, their journey hitting them both in the aftermath of their lovemaking. They stumbled into the bedroom, sliding beneath the satin sheets, twining together, her head resting on his chest. His breathing deepened and he felt himself slipping towards slumber.
"Legolas..." she began, hesitant.
He placed his finger against her mouth, softly, replacing it with his lips. "Tomorrow, Rhya. I'll know everything tomorrow. Let's just sleep, now." He felt her nodding and soon her breathing slipped into the rhythm of sleep. He drifted off, dreaming of dark haired children and lush forests.
Sunlight streamed around him and he scanned the room, seeing a veiled woman standing in the doorway of the bedroom. He curled his arm around his love's sleeping form, his eyes daring the woman to challenge him.
Instead she bowed low, saying. "Baths are prepared for you and your breakfast is waiting. When you are prepared, pull the bell rope by the door and someone will come to lead you to the council."
He nodded, watching her intently as she bowed again and slipped out the door. When she had gone he ran a hand down Rhya's hair, listening to her steady breathing, wishing fervently that time could stop, just this once.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- *-*-*
Okay. I see stories with HUNDREDS of reviews and like, eight chapters. I am feeling neglected. Come on peoples. Is it so hard to just review a little?
Not going to beg anymore but more reviews equals faster updates...
Now Im blackmailing you. How awful is that? Just review so I don't have to be so pitiful...
Author: Arisma
Rating: R Disclaimer: To the tune of Leslie Gore, "You don't own me"- I don't own it; don't try to claim it in any way. I don't own it; don't hunt me down 'cause I'll never pay! . Feedback: chalice_nazarene@hotmail.com -*--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**-- **--**--*-
They rode silently, stretched in a single file line. Conversation had ceased to be appealing hours ago. Legolas stretched his back as best he could, wincing as the pain flared hot for a moment before falling into the familiar dull ache. Surely they must reach their destination soon. Or, at the very least, stop somewhere for a rest.
Craning his neck he looked to Rhya, riding directly behind him, her gaze fixed on the far horizon. She swayed easily with the horses' movements, only the pallor of her cheeks and a slight compression of her lips revealing her pain. He watched her hand drift lower, caressing her abdomen absentmindedly.
Her gaze shifted and he felt the now familiar shock that filled him whenever their eyes met. He smiled encouragingly at her and she returned the gesture, her eyes narrowing as she briefly popped her tongue out in his direction. Shaking his head and grinning he turned, settling again into the monotony of the ride.
Slowly the light around them increased, the sky ahead of them beginning to blaze with a luminous orange fire. Cresting a final dune he felt his breath catch as he gazed upon a beautiful, sheltered, valley. As they began to descend into the depths, Legolas' eyes swept the vista, trying to see all that stretched before him.
The scene was washed with fire from the sky, but even in that strange light the vibrancy of the place struck him. Tents stretched the length of the valley; large, elaborate things made of vibrantly dyed silks. Banners atop each fluttered in the faint breeze, strange symbols rippling, suggesting life.
And life there was. After inspecting the tents he shifted his attention to the occupants of the place, expecting to see the same black clad figures that were their guides. Instead he saw brightly clad people, women in full, flowing skirts, men in baggy trousers, children dressed like miniature copies of their elders.
The line stopped and they dismounted, flexing muscles stiff from the extended ride. Two women came forward, their faces covered by thin, bejeweled veils. One woman led the majority of the group away, the other gathered Kailin, Kallo and Rhya together. He moved to stand protectively next to Rhya but the woman merely smiled benignly and motioned them to follow.
He felt fingers brush his and twined his hand with Rhya's, squeezing it in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. The woman led them through the curving, haphazard lanes between the bright tents. He saw all manner of people, craftsmen, artists. He smelled fresh baking bread and his stomach rumbled loudly. Chagrined, he pressed a hand to his gut, shaking his head at his rebellious body.
He lost all sense of direction as they walked, the world seeming to become a blur of faces and colors. Finally she stopped before a large tent, dyed a deep green and parted the door drapings, waving them inside. Inside it was surprisingly dim and much cooler then he would have thought. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and he very nearly jumped when he saw the seated figures, unmoving and silent.
He looked to his companions, unsure of the situation, and his place in it. His surprise was complete when Kailin stepped forward, bowing low. His voice sounded different then Legolas remembered when he spoke, deeper, more commanding. "We have returned, as we promised we would. These are the two of whom we spoke." He gestured towards Rhya and again at Legolas, his eyes fixed on the semi circle before him.
As Kailin spoke Legolas took the opportunity to inspect the assemblage, noting that two of the seated figure wore the draping veils he had seen outside, three wearing the face concealing wraps similar to those of their guides. He saw the eyes of one of the women focus on him,briefly flickering to Rhya and then fixing again on Kailin.
The man in the center stood, gesturing to low pillows Legolas had somehow missed in his inspection. "Welcome again, Kailin Lasgalen and you as well, Kallo Nessar. You have come in peace and in that spirit we are as one. Be seated, brothers." He spoke Elvish, his accent thick and strange, twisting the familiar phrases, giving them a hint of something ancient.
The two, so addressed, bowed again and moved to the side, lowering themselves onto the pillows, their faces calm, passive. The man took a step towards them and Legolas instinctively stepped forward, partially blocking Rhya with his own body. Immediately the man stopped walking, his hands raising, palms flattened. "Have no fear, you are safe here." His voice was low, sincere, and Legolas felt himself relaxing.
"We have much to discuss, Taren Lasgalen. I can explain much for you, if you would but listen. I think some of this may even surprise you, Tarien Nessar." His eyes were bright, focused intently on each as he spoke, as though only they existed while in his attentions. "But, I have forgotten my manners. You have ridden long, and you are as yet unused to the waste. Miela will show you to your quarters. Refreshment will be brought to you. After you are rested, we will speak."
He remained standing, but moved backwards, allowing the woman to his right to stand. She was willowy and tall, her face hidden but her eyes bright above her veil. Kailin and Kallo stood as well, allowing the woman to walk past them. As they were preparing to leave, the man said quietly, "Eru go with you."
He felt Rhya stiffen beside him and turn, saw her eyes widen. "And remain with you." she said, a whisper of a voice, her face full of confusion.
The woman cleared her throat and began walking and Legolas and Rhya followed, each silent, lost in thought. They walked together but a short distance. The woman gestured to a small gray tent, and Kallo ducked inside, nodding his goodbye, respecting the veil of silence that surrounded them.
A bit further away and Kailin was shown to a similar sized tent, striped in yellow and green, pale and quite lovely. Before he entered he turned, grasping Legolas by the forearm. "It's okay, Leaf. This is for the best, be calm." He turned then to Rhya, gently touching her cheek before ducking beneath the brightly covered door hanging, leaving the three of them to finish their journey.
As they moved away again, Rhya clasped his hand, tightly, and Legolas felt the tension in her for the first time. He squeezed gently, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles. She leaned close as they walked, whispering. "Don't leave me, love. I don't want to be alone, now."
He nodded, squeezing her hand again. "I never intended to. It was never a question." He felt some of the tension leave her at the sureness of his voice, a small smile even pulling briefly at the edges of her mouth. With a final squeeze she released his hand, standing tall, proud, drawing strength from his mere presence.
The tent the woman stopped in front of now was larger than the ones the others had received, a deep green thinly striped with purple. She separated the hangings and waved towards the dim interior. They stood uncertain for a moment and she spoke, her accent again adding a profound and ancient lilt to the words. "Please, enter. I assure you all is well. This has been specially prepared for you both." She saw them relax as she spoke, inclining her head as she stepped back further. "Food and water will be brought to you soon. Please relax. Enjoy yourselves, as time permits."
Rhya stepped forward and entered, seeming to disappear as she did so. Quickly Legolas followed, his eyes expecting, and adjusting to the dimness faster than before. The flap slid down behind him, dimming the interior further.
Small lanterns were strung from the ceiling, tasseled pillows heaped in the center, embroidered rugs layered thickly beneath their feet. A brazier burned incense on a small table, the smell of cinnamon and other, less definable scents hanging in the air. Walking forward together, they parted a curtain, gazing at the bedchamber beyond. The bed was large, round, draped in white silk, the bedclothes of pale green, embroidered with tiny, silver leaves. On it lay two outfits, in the style of the place, one for a male and one for a female.
"They were expecting us." said Rhya, walking forward and letting the thin material of her new garments slip through her fingers.
"So it seems." He answered, watching her from the doorway. "Do you know who they are?" he asked, his voice calm. She shook her head no, but she paled, swallowed hard. He nodded, accepting her answer. She raised her eyes to meet his and he saw fear lurking in the crystalline depths.
He stepped forward, cupping her face gently. "Soon we will have the answers, love. Soon." She nodded and leaned into his palms, smiling lightly.
"I know. I am just afraid that they are not the answers I want." her voice was small, frightened, and he felt his heart ache with longing, wishing desperately that he could tell her what she wanted to hear, that he could fix it all.
He pulled her to him, holding her firmly, yet gently to his chest, stroking his hand along the length of her hair. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered. "We will make them what we want them to be, love. Together, we will do it." She nodded and leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He closed his eyes and willed his words to truth, sending a swift plea to Eru to help make it so.
They heard a soft jingling of bells and turned towards the sound, watching as two women swept in, robed and swathed in blues and purples, their faces also concealed. With a low bow they began to move around the inside of the tent, lighting more of the small lanterns, refilling braziers. They disappeared for a moment and returned, carrying two large trays of food, setting it out on a low table amid the cushions. They bowed again and retreated, quick and efficient.
They stood in the doorway together, as they had through the visitation, and looked over the food. The lights were dimmer, the smoke from the renewed incense swirling in the air, making an intricate dance in the eddies and drafts. The smells of the food, spicy and fragrant, drifted to them and again Legolas' stomach rumbled. Without speaking they separated and settled into the cushions, facing one another.
They ate slowly, in silence, flickering looks across the table. The spice in the dishes was pleasant and somehow, strangely familiar to him. He watched Rhya intently, noting the ease with which she held the strangely curved forks, the way she seemed to pick from the offered dishes with forethought and knowledge. His brow furrowed and when next their eyes met she noticed it. Paling, she set the fork down, her head bowed. "You are angry with me." she stated, her voice sad.
With a sigh he set his own fork down and reclined slightly, running a hand through his long tresses. "I'm not angry." he said, shaking his head in negation. Silently she stood, crossing to kneel by his side. With gentle fingers she touched the crinkling of his forehead, wordlessly examining his face. "This says otherwise, Legolas."
He sighed again and grasped her hand, searching briefly for the words. "I am frustrated, Rhya. I am hurt and confused and I do not understand why you are keeping so much from me." His voice was calm, kind, his eyes locked with hers. He could see some unnamed emotion swirling in her navy depths, but she met his gaze steadily.
"I love you, Legolas." she said, her voice full of sincerity.
"And I you, but Rhya... I have never been anything but honest with you. I am an open book to you and yet you tell me nothing. Why, love?" he ran the calloused pad of his finger along her jaw as he spoke.
"I am afraid." her eyes flickered from his, lowering to the brightly colored pillows on which they rested.
"Of what Rhya? Of these people? Of Mondane? What are you afraid of?" He felt his calm waning, impatience pushing to the fore.
She shook her head, meeting his eyes again. "I have lived my life in the shadow of Mondane. I knew from the first moment that I would go to him. I loathe him, but I do not fear him."
"Then what is it?" His brow furrowed heavily, his tone displaying his rising ire.
She shook her head and looked away, her dark hair falling and blocking her face from his view.
Without thought he gripped her shoulders, turning her to face him, his tone demanding. "Dammit Rhya, talk to me!" She tried to rise, to walk away, but he was much stronger and held her, forcing her to face him. "Talk to me. Now." he said, his voice a low growl.
She turned to face him, her chin lifted to a haughty angle, her eyes blazing. "What do you want me to say to you? What do you want to hear That I fear losing you? That all that time my only fear was that when next I saw you, you would look at me with scorn? I've lived my life knowing that nothing would ever be mine. When I met you, touched you, was the first time I understood exactly what I could never have."
He turned, shifting his hands to her cheeks, feeling her tremble. He turned her face until their eyes met, holding her still when she tried to jerk away. "But you were wrong. Because you do. You have me. Until the end of my days, I am yours. Be that tomorrow or at the edge of eternity, I belong to you. If something were to force me from you, I would spend every waking moment trying to get back to your side.Without you I am but a shadow of myself. I am yours, Rhya. Yours."
Her eyes softened, the anger he had seen dissolving as he spoke. She raised her hand and touched his jaw, running her finger along the smooth flesh. "Mine?" she asked softly her voice trembling. He nodded softly watching her eyes. Her digits trailed to his neck, tracing the broad curve of his shoulder, her eyes following the movements.. "Mine?" she asked again, her voice small and hopeful. Again he nodded, raising his hand to hold hers, placing her hand on his chest, over his fast beating heart. After a moment she raised her eyes to meet his, "Mine?" her voice trembled, tears rising in her eyes.
Leaning forward, still pressing her hand to his chest he pressed a kiss to her lips, his eyes darkening. "Forever." he whispered.
A strangled whimper left her throat, her hands wrapping into his hair as she lifted herself astride him, feeling his hands pulling her towards him. Their lips met, their kiss frantic, passionate. She grasped his tunic and tore it from him, letting it fall. She ran her hands along the muscles of his chest, her fingers tracing the contours of them. Her mouth dropped so she could taste his skin, and he threw his head back, moaning as she trailed kisses on his suddenly over sensitive flesh.
She kissed back to his mouth, ignoring his moan of protest, finally meeting his lips again, kissing him deeply. "Mine." she whispered, and he nodded, wrapping his hands into her hair and pulling her into another frantic kiss. With eyes that glittered and hands that shook she divested him of his clothing, ripping it in her haste. Hastily she ripped of her own garments, flinging them haphazardly behind her.
He watched her, his breathing hitched, his eyes alight with passion. Slowly she lowered herself onto him, her eyes locked with his. He bit his lip but did not move, allowing her to set the pace of their lovemaking. She moved slowly, languidly, leaning forward to kiss him, pulling her lips a hairsbreadth from his. "Mine." she whispered, her breath catching.
In answer he grabbed her hips, turned so she lay beneath him. "Yours." he replied, taking control, continuing in the same slow pace. She sighed and pulled him towards her, running her fingers through his hair, kissing him with passion. Suddenly he grasped her hands, pulling them above her head. With one hand he held her, prone, never wavering from his slow, maddening movements. With his other hand he traced her body, slowly, his eyes following his hands progress.
"Beautiful." he whispered, pressing kisses to her throat, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin. She arched her back, tried briefly to wrest her hands from his grasp. He continued moving, faster now, harder, raising his eyes to meet hers. A thin sheen of sweat beaded her brow, her teeth worrying her lips. Leaning forward he kissed her passionately whispering, "Mine." She moaned and arched but remained silent and so he kissed her again, increasing the speed of his movements. "Mine." he repeated, searching her eyes, his tone insistent.
Still she remained silent and he began to move faster still, watching as her eyes flew open, her breathing nearly stopping, her body trembling beneath him. "Mine." he stated again and she gasped, trying to tear her hands from his grasp, twisting beneath him. Mercilessly he continued, feeling her trembling increase, her fingers curling around his restraining hand. Finally she flung her head back, her legs locking around his waist, cried out, "Yours!"
He pressed his face into the cup of her neck as his own release hit him, gasping. He released his grip on her wrists, feeling her arms immediately slide around his waist. "Yours." she whispered again, her voice soft, trembling.
He lifted his face and kissed her lips. "Mine." he answered, smiling tiredly. Slowly he stood and pulled her with him, their journey hitting them both in the aftermath of their lovemaking. They stumbled into the bedroom, sliding beneath the satin sheets, twining together, her head resting on his chest. His breathing deepened and he felt himself slipping towards slumber.
"Legolas..." she began, hesitant.
He placed his finger against her mouth, softly, replacing it with his lips. "Tomorrow, Rhya. I'll know everything tomorrow. Let's just sleep, now." He felt her nodding and soon her breathing slipped into the rhythm of sleep. He drifted off, dreaming of dark haired children and lush forests.
Sunlight streamed around him and he scanned the room, seeing a veiled woman standing in the doorway of the bedroom. He curled his arm around his love's sleeping form, his eyes daring the woman to challenge him.
Instead she bowed low, saying. "Baths are prepared for you and your breakfast is waiting. When you are prepared, pull the bell rope by the door and someone will come to lead you to the council."
He nodded, watching her intently as she bowed again and slipped out the door. When she had gone he ran a hand down Rhya's hair, listening to her steady breathing, wishing fervently that time could stop, just this once.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- *-*-*
Okay. I see stories with HUNDREDS of reviews and like, eight chapters. I am feeling neglected. Come on peoples. Is it so hard to just review a little?
Not going to beg anymore but more reviews equals faster updates...
Now Im blackmailing you. How awful is that? Just review so I don't have to be so pitiful...