Title: Diplomacy Part 31
Author: Arisma
Rating: R (for some naughty, naughty bits... and some foul language.)
Disclaimer: Legolas, Mirkwood, Thranduil... all of that is Tolkiens. I'm just taking them out to play with, cause they're shiny. I will put them back in the box, in the proper order, when I'm done. I also promise to wipe the drool off of Legolas and any excess that might have gotten on any of the other characters by proxy.
The basic concept of bladesingers and the title querimhinue is the property of WoTC, and I'm merely borrowing those too.
I do claim The Quel, both Nessar and A'Har as my own. Rhyalla, Kallo, Kailin, all mine. The waste, Tir Roac and all future 'non-canon' locations are the product of my mind as well. When I'm done with them I'll put them back in my own teeny box of creations, next to the cedar wood butterfly and the sculpy clay horns. (Don't ask.) If for some strange reason you'd like to borrow them or the settings, feel free to contact me and we'll work out details.
Feedback / Contact: Arisma_@hotmail.com
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She watched him leave, the powerful shift of his muscles beneath the thin shirt and felt a shiver course up her spine. Sometimes the power he held over her bordered on unholy, his simplest movements creating a fount of desire within her. His laughter drifted back to her along with Kailin's muffled oath and she smiled, a small secret smile of one thoroughly enamored with another.
After a few moments she rose, stretching languidly. Though well satisfied her body ached, rebelling still at the unaccustomed invasion of lovemaking. With a small smile she retrieved his clothing from the floor, pressing his shirt to her face, breathing deeply of his scent, like sandalwood and sunshine. Casually she deposited it into the basket, opening her wardrobe and pulling an outfit out herself.
The A'Har outfits were different than what the Quel wore, but barely. The low slung skirts were much like the ones she had worn in the tower, more revealing than she'd been allowed but in essence the same. The silver shirt was loose and flowing, its neckline high and square and she giggled at the short puffed sleeves. Dressed now, she sat on the bed, pulling a comb through her raven locks, binding them back with a simple white ribbon.
Stretching again, she stood and straightened the bed, chuckling at the disarray of the bedclothes. 'At least we didn't fall this time,' she thought, smirking. Her eyes scanned the room and satisfied of its cleanliness she exited, immediately greeted with a merrily chirping Ip, his golden eyes gleaming as he rubbed his body against her ankles. "Hungry?" she asked, leaning to scratch between his small, rounded ears.
"Gree!" he answered, his eyes widening earnestly.
With a smile she swept him up in her arms, his tail curling around her forearm. A low purring began in the back of his throat as she slipped from the tent, her eyes scanning for the women carrying breakfast. From nearby she heard the bells they wore to herald their arrival and slipped back into the tent, dropping Ip and watching as he righted himself easily before settling onto his haunches to wait.
Within a few moments the tent flap opened and a blonde head poked through. Rhya felt her teeth clench as she recognized Lira, her bright green eyes surveying the room, passing over her as though she didn't exist. With a sigh she entered fully, setting the tray on the low table. "Not here, is he?" she asked, shaking her head.
Through gritted teeth Rhya replied "No," watching as the little blonde crossed the room, parting the door drapes and peering into the bedroom.
"Hmm, guess not. Oh well, another day then." She rested her hands on her hips, surveying Rhya critically. "Your skirt is tied wrong, you know. It's all lumpy. You'll never keep hold of him if you keep dressing so sloppily."
She felt a rush of shame at the girl's words, swiftly followed by a flare of anger. "Was there something you wanted, Lira?" she asked, her teeth gnashing with irritation.
A secretive smile spread across the tiny cherubic face. "Not really, not that I'm going to tell you about, anyway," she replied, smiling brightly as she made for the exit. "Another day perhaps," she said wistfully, as though to herself.
"Another day what?" Rhya regretted the question as soon as she voiced it, the green eyes flaring with vicious amusement.
"Oh, nothing you need worry about. Your next day on service is when?" she asked, tapping her lower lip thoughtfully.
"Tomorrow, why?" She felt the girl's mind whirring in calculations and felt suddenly outmatched. "Leave him be, Lira," she threatened, her back stiffening.
"Touchy, touchy," chided the girl, running a hand through her blonde hair. "I never said I was going to do anything with him, now did I?"
"He wouldn't look at you twice," snapped Rhya, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Was that a challenge?"
"No," replied Rhya, struggling to keep her voice steady, "It's a fact. He loves me, and nothing you could do would change that."
The girl was silent, walking towards the exit, lifting the tent flap and beginning to exit. At the last moment she looked back, her eyes impossibly bright. "We shall see..." she whispered, grinning. And then she was gone, the flap settling behind her silently.
For a moment Rhya merely stood, her eyes glued to the doorway. She felt a rush of doubt, unsure for a moment if perhaps the blonde knew something that she didn't. And then she remembered the feel of his hands on her body, the love that shone through his eyes. Surely his love was true, nothing Lira did could change that...
A warm body brushed her ankles, a muttered, "Gree!" reminding her of her tiny charge. She shook her head to clear the thoughts and crossed to the trays, picking several things from it and placing them in the bowls for the beast's consumption. She sat near him, watching as he ate, her mind a whir with thoughts. The girl's last words echoed through her mind, an endless loop. "We shall see..."
****
He felt the sun beating down on his pale hair, the warmth of the rays sinking into his scalp, making it tingle. In his mind's eye he remembered the events of the morning, the feel of his lover's skin beneath his hands, the taste of her lips, the way she moaned his name so softly. He fought a crazy urge to turn and run back to her, to sweep her into his arms and never let her go.
Beside him he heard Kailin chuckle and he raised his eyes to meet his friends gaze. "Have a good morning did you?" the dark haired Elf queried, his dark blue eyes alight with amusement. Legolas merely smiled, not answering. "Just a question, but were you planning on your feet actually touching the ground at some point during this journey?"
Legolas chuckled, clapping his friends shoulder. "It's a lovely day, isn't it, Kailin?" he asked, gesturing to the sky above.
"It is indeed," replied the other, shaking his head. For a moment he just watched his friend walking, the light in his eyes, the smile that tugged the corners of his mouth seemingly without his knowledge. "She really makes you happy, doesn't she?" he asked finally, quietly.
Legolas stopped walking for a second, surprised. With a nod he started off again, his brow furrowed. "You know, Kailin, she does. Just being around her makes me smile."
Without warning the dark haired Elf reached out and gripped his friend's shoulders. He moved so that he faced the prince squarely, taking a deep breath before he spoke. "I...I'm sorry about before, with the yelling. She makes you happy, and that's what is important. I didn't mean to hurt you," Kailin said earnestly, his dark eyes fixed squarely on his friend's lighter orbs.
Legolas smiled serenely, raising a hand to cradle the back of his friend's head, pressing their foreheads together in a sign of friendship. "You only said what you thought needed to be said. I know this is hard for you, to be pulled along by my choices. I'm sorry it has to be like this, honestly."
Kailin nodded, straightening. "I threw my lot in with you a long time ago, Leaf. You're one of the most genuinely good people I've ever met. I know I don't show it enough, but you have my faith, my trust, for what it's worth."
Legolas nodded, his throat choking with emotion. "Thank you, Kailin. That means more to me than you will ever know," he said when finally able to speak. "I hope I am worthy of that trust."
"Oh knock it off," scoffed the dark haired Elf, dragging a hand swiftly across his eyes. "You could never betray me, even if you wanted to. It's just not in you to hurt someone purposefully, and you know it as well as I. Enough of this emotional hoodoo, let's get to the training area and kick some A'Har ass. Show 'em what it means to be a Mirkwood Elf."
They shared a grin and turned in unison, walking with determination towards the warriors' building. When they arrived there was a sparring match underway, two young males fighting with Bo staffs, whirling and twirling them in a dazzling display. A low split wood fence surrounded the combatants and they settled against it, folding their arms atop and watching with interest.
"How long did it take you to get your weapons?" Legolas asked, quietly.
"A while," replied Kailin, shrugging. "I doubt it will take you so long, though."
"Why is that?" he looked at his friend curiously.
Kailin didn't turn, stared straight ahead as he spoke, his eyes squinted in the harsh sun. "You've got something to fight for."
Legolas turned his attention back to the combat, marveling at the way the two dipped and whirled, the ease with which they handled the lengthy weapons. In his mind he imagined counters for each move, each move of the combatant's countered by his intellect. They stood together, quietly as the pairs within the circle changed, each battle raging until the Kirrar, Rolan, stepped forward to put a stop to it.
Soon enough he waved Legolas forward, pointing to a long rack of well-used sparring poles. After a moment of searching he found two of equivalent length to his usual weapons, twirling them lightly to ascertain the differences in weighting. He turned and faced the assembled Elves, walking proudly to stand in the center of the square. To his surprise no one stepped forward to challenge him and he looked to Rolan with a raised brow.
"Present your arms, Legolas," he said, his voice low. A hush fell around the assembled group and he moved swiftly, raising the sparring poles until his arms were stretched before him, the poles held at a slight angle, pommels nearly touching. "Now hold them," he said, turning and walking away, apparently indifferent.
Though not heavy in themselves, the angle was awkward and he felt his muscles begin to burn almost immediately. He looked to Kailin, his friend hanging back as the rest of the warriors filtered away. "How long?" he asked quietly.
"Best not to think about it, Leaf," he answered in a low tone.
Legolas released a shaky chuckle, understanding the initiation ritual now for what it was. "That long, huh?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Kailin, their eyes meeting, the dark haired Elf giving his friend support with the sureness of his gaze.
"Can I do it?" Legolas felt the tremor in his voice and winced.
"Can you not?" Kailin replied, turning and walking after the rest of the group, falling in with them, soon lost amidst the group.
Legolas took a deep breath and fixed his eyes across the training grounds, focusing his attention on a darker patch amidst the orange rock of the valley walls. Far away he heard children laughing, a bird calling. A single bead of sweat trickled from his forehead into his eye, stinging. He blinked away the salty ache, his stance never wavering, and settled in to wait.
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Rhya made her way through the winding paths between tents, her eyes flicking nervously from banner to banner, seeking the one Saida had described to her. Twice she turned, ready to flee. Both times she gritted her teeth and forced her feet to move, taking her further into the encampment, further away from the sanctity of her tent.
She swept around a corner, her eyes fixed on the sky above. With a startled "oof" she fell backwards, landing hard on her backside, losing her breath. Lowering her now swimming eyes she saw a startled Elf looking back, his viridian eyes widening as they met hers.
"My lady, forgive me!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet and extending a hand to help her stand. She accepted and clasped the offered limb, pulling herself upright. Somehow in the movement she fell forward, would have landed on her face if he hadn't moved swiftly, blocking her fall with his own body. She felt the smooth contours of his muscles beneath her cheek, and for a moment she felt an urge to trace them with her fingers.
With a jerk she stood straight, pushing away from him rudely. "I...I'm sorry," she said lamely, starting away, but somehow he still stood before her, mesmerizing her with his brilliant green eyes.
"You seem distressed, lady. Let me help, please. It's the least I can do," he said, taking her hand in his own, bending to press his lips to her knuckle.
For a moment she merely stared, watching as he straightened, brushing back his mane of unruly blonde hair. "My name is Calen," he said, smiling softly, "And you are?"
"Rhya...Rhyalla," she said softly.
"Well, Rhya Rhyalla, it's nice to make your acquaintance. Now, you do seem distressed, anything I can do to help you out?" he asked, his lips parted in a grin, his teeth perfectly straight and gleaming.
A sudden thought entered her mind, startling her with its intensity and its nature. She felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment and she dropped her eyes. She heard him move and soon his hip brushed hers as he stood beside her, bent slightly, examining the ground. "Something interesting down here?" he asked and she turned to meet his gaze, laughing despite herself.
"There, that's better," he murmured, brushing her cheek with his fingertips. Her eyes widened and she met his gaze, helpless until he broke contact, gazing across the rooftops. "What were you looking for?" he asked quietly.
"I...I was meeting Saida, but I've forgotten where she lives." Her voice was shaky and she fought to control it, clenching her hands by her side with the effort.
"Oh certainly. You were almost there. If I hadn't been star gazing you'd have found it all on your own in a minute. It's this way." He grasped her hand easily in his and lead her a short way, stopping before a pale yellow tent. "See? Not far at all." He smiled dazzlingly at her, and she couldn't help but return it.
"Thank you," she said softly, meeting his eyes again.
"My pleasure," he answered, and the purr in his voice sent a small shiver up her spine as he bent again to kiss her hand. "If ever you need me, Rhya Rhyalla..." he said, the words trailing away. With another flash of teeth he turned and walked away and she found herself admiring the way he moved, easily, catlike.
"Rhya, is that you?" Her friend's voice broke her reverie and she turned in time to see Saida opening the tent flap and waving her inside. "Come in, it's hot out today. Look at these drawings I did last night for your gown, tell me what you think."
She smiled as she allowed the other woman to bustle her inside, soon lost in the planning, often blushing as Saida asked her for her plans on aspects she'd never known existed. With skill and kindness, the grey eyed Elf guided her through the preparations for the intricate ceremony, helping her choose flowers not just for their beauty but also their meanings and choosing the best arrangements for everything.
Hours passed as they huddled within, laughing and talking like old friends. Sketch after sketch was produced and they worked together to finalize a design. "Oh, this is it!" cried Saida as she put the finishing touches on the last in a long line of refinements. Rhya looked at the image and nodded, imagining Legolas' face when he saw her in the garment. Soon enough they moved on to the next aspect and Rhya happily gave herself over to the
infectious enthusiasm of her new friend.
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Around him the ground shivered, outlines blurring in the dwindling evening heat. The birds had ceased to sing, no animals moved, even in the shadows. His entire body screamed at him to release the weapons, to stop this stupidity and find a patch of shade to rest in. He swallowed thickly, his mouth dryer than the sand around him.
He'd lost track of time long since, each minute seeming an eternity of agony. His eyes kept trying to slide from his focus, the shadow forming strange shapes in his imagining. Behind him he heard footfalls and his spine tightened but his features remained placid. A scent of wildflowers wafted around him, confusing him.
"Thirsty?"
The voice was low and sensuous, adding a myriad of meaning to the simple question. The speaker stepped before him and he took in the pale hair, the bright eyes, the freckles dotting the small upturned nose.
"Is it allowed?" he asked, softly.
"It is," she answered, holding a dipper of water before him.
Without further comment he bent his head, the cool water splashing down his chin in his haste to wet his mouth. The dipper disappeared and returned, full again and again, until his thirst was slaked.
"Enough?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.
"Yes, thank you," he answered. Silently she nodded, walking behind him. He heard her stop, and then her hand reached out to touch the taut muscles of his back. "Don't," he said firmly. "I am taken."
"I know," she answered, another hand joining the first. "It's simply too tempting. You, all helpless...at my mercy."
"I could drop these weapons and stop you," he replied levelly.
"You could, but you won't," she said, giggling. "No harm, Legolas. I just wanted something to keep me warm at night, and the feel of you beneath my hands will more than accomplish that."
"Then take your memory and go," his voice was as ice.
"Touchy, touchy," she stated, clucking her tongue in disapproval.
He heard her move away and he released a breath he was unaware he'd been holding. Again he settled in to wait, but soon Rolan returned, standing directly in front of him. "Tired yet?" he asked, measuring him with his eyes.
"No, Kirrar," he replied, his voice steady despite the falsehood.
"Liar," replied the soldier grinning. "At ease," he continued, and Legolas dropped his arms, releasing a groan as the muscles immediately cramped.
"Is it done?" he asked, watching the soldier carefully.
"No. Now comes the hard part," Rolan replied, smiling.
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A/N-
Tamara- Again, much thanks for taking the time to drop me a note!
Kate- I know i've been vague as to why they can't go back, but you will find out eventually, when the time is right. Thanks for reviewing!
Arroz- I hope you've been back and read up to date now. I look forward to hearing what you're thinking!
Kris- To my wonder beta I wish happy days and sleep-filled nights. And as always, you have my thanks.
~Arisma~
The skill of writing is to create a context in which other people can think.
Edwin Schlossberg