Dear Readers: At last, the make-up scene between Legolas and Ellie is completed! Since I promised you the make-up scene would be in this chapter, and it doesn't come until the latter part of it, this chapter will probably be the longest one in the entire story! In fact, it is about three times longer than my average chapter so far! I hope you don't mind! Because of its length, I will be addressing individual reviewers at the end of the NEXT chapter, and not this one. But I want to thank each and every one of you for your encouraging reviews. I cannot tell you often enough how important they are to me. They are my true source of inspiration, particularly on days when I find it difficult to write! So please keep them coming, along with your story suggestions and constructive criticisms. For those of you who have expressed concern over the lack of "adventure" and/or "action" in this segment of the story, please understand the Fellowship is now in Lorien, and there is only so much adventure to be had in such an idyllic place! I am using this "slower" part of the story to develop my characters' relationships and provide glimpses into Ellie's family history. But I promise you, once Legolas leaves Lorien, the rest of the story will not lack for action and adventure. I hope you enjoy this chapter despite its length.

A big hug and thank you, as always, to the best beta in the world, Kris! And to Anon, for your inspirational love scenes.

WARNING: This chapter is rated R for explicit sexual content.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: IN THE DEEP WOODS

The night lay black and heavy around him, like a shroud. It matched the color of his mood. No breeze stirred in the thick, pungent air; no leaf rustled at the scurrying of tiny feet. Save for the soft gurgling of the stream, he was surrounded by the silence of the deep woods--and the clear, resonant echoes of his tormented thoughts.

Legolas was at his wits' end.

Damn you, Ellie, that you should be so stubborn and unyielding! So unreasonable!

He had apologized, laid bare his heart, pleaded and cajoled. Groveled. And to what end? So that she could leave him hanging one more night? Kiss him on the cheek as if he were no more than a brother or a friend? As if he meant no more to her than Boromir or Aragorn did?

The very thought infuriated him. She infuriated him. Legolas longed to grab hold of Ellie and shake some sense into her. Throttle her if need be, although he had never raised his hand against a maiden, and would unlikely do so now. But it was tempting. He was that angry. Indeed, his body nearly shook from the force of it, as he clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. His face was so taut that its elegant bones jutted out at every angle, and his nostrils flared.

Yet even in the midst of his dark mood, the Elf recognized that such anger and hostility on his part would serve him naught. Legolas took a deep, calming breath, and tried to still the tempest inside his mind, and cool the fiery rage inside his body. He needed to be able to think clearly and act reasonably.

Even though Ellie's behavior defied all reason. The Elf shook his head in frustration and disbelief, and did not even try to understand her. In his eyes, she was beyond comprehension. No one, ever, had resisted him the way she had. Had challenged him the way she had. Legolas was accustomed to having biddable lovers, who put him above all else and were eager to please him in any way he saw fit. Lovers who were willing to obey. But Ellie refused to be such a lover, and while it occurred to him that that was one of the reasons he was so drawn to her, it nevertheless made for an intolerable situation.

Legolas considered himself a patient Elf, yet he had reached the end of his patience. He was done with begging and pleading. He would not humble himself before Ellie anymore. He was a Prince and a proud warrior, and such conduct was unbecoming, especially in the face of her continued obstinacy.

But how else could he persuade her to stay with him for all time?

If she had been more like Nevladiel--and thank the Valar she was not--he would tempt her with his royal title and his family's vast riches. He knew, however, that Ellie had little use for wealth, and even less use for titles. She herself was a Lady, and beyond telling the Fellowship that when she first introduced herself, Ellie had never mentioned it again or expected any special treatment because of it--just like Legolas never sought to remind anyone in the Fellowship of his own exalted status.

Was seduction--actually bedding her--the answer then? Would that be the key to Ellie's surrender? Perhaps, but such a course of action was not without risk. Should he get her with child--and the way his luck was running of late, he would not be surprised if that happened--then Ellie might well choose as her mother did. And the girl and their child would be lost to him forever.

He was reluctant to take that chance. But what else could he do?

Before they parted tonight, Ellie had told him she would have her say in the morning--and then had pressed that misbegotten kiss on his cheek. Legolas did not think that boded well for his chances.

Damn you, Ellie! he silently cursed again, and was overcome by despair. He leaned his head into his hands, as if the burden of his love for her was too great to bear. Although they hid their feelings well, Elves were so much more emotional than humans were. And right now, Legolas' emotions were at the breaking point.

Suddenly, a twig snapped in the darkling woods, and the Elf whipped his head toward the offending sound. Through the shadowy trunks of the trees, he saw the flicker of an approaching lantern. Legolas could not stop the wave of anticipation that swept through him at the sight, any more than he could stop his heart from beating. "Ellie," he whispered.

A scant moment later his black mood returned tenfold when she came into view.

Not Ellie…

Nevladiel. Looking like a pale phantom as she walked hesitantly toward him.

Legolas instantly stiffened. "Gods and damnation," he muttered under his breath. Nev was the last person he wanted to see this evening. He started to get up, intending to leave forthwith, but she stalled him by holding up her hand. The Elf sat back, poised to rise once more.

"Do not go, Legolas. I will not throw myself at you again. I only want to speak with you," she said in her soft, dulcet voice, taking care to keep her distance.

After fleeing her brother earlier this evening, Nevladiel had wandered aimlessly through the less trodden paths of Caras Galadhon. She had forgotten all about her assignation with Lord Erethon, while she thought back on the events of the past day. With an increasingly heavy heart and a growing sense of foreboding, Nev had realized that instead of drawing Legolas closer, she had likely alienated him for good. Since Haldir had turned against her as well, she was desperate to know Legolas' thoughts, to know his heart, before she got herself into deeper trouble. And so she had sought him out in the dark woods.

Legolas now stared at her with unflinching hatred.

Much as she wanted to, Nev could not deny the loathing in his eyes. She cringed inwardly, and the last vestiges of hope in her heart withered and died. When he still did not answer, she stepped forward and added, "Please…" This time both her eyes and her voice were plainly pleading, and Legolas relented.

"Very well," he replied, studying her closely in the soft yellow light. This was not the same Nevladiel who had tempted him in the meadow and had held court during breakfast, as if she were a queen. Nor was she the same Nevladiel who had stood so regally in the lawn earlier this evening with Lord Erethon at her side. Although she was undoubtedly trying to cling to her pride and dignity, the Elf standing before him looked somehow diminished, defeated. She looked fragile.

And it gave Legolas a perverse pleasure. While he should have felt pity for Nev--and under ordinary circumstances would have--he was now too angry, too frustrated to care about her suffering. She was, after all, largely to blame for his troubles with Ellie.

"Take a seat," he offered none too graciously, indicating the mossy bank with a wave of his hand.

Nev gave him a small smile of gratitude, and put her lantern down. Then she wrinkled her nose and grimaced in distaste at the damp ground, before gingerly sitting next to Legolas. He fought the urge to roll his eyes skyward. Nev had always been much too fastidious for his taste.

"What did you want to talk about?" he now asked her, although he well knew the answer. He kept his expression blank and his voice even, but he was impatient to get this over with. Legolas wanted Nev to leave.

"Legolas, I--" she started to say, then bit her lip.

The Elf leaned his elbow against his bent knee, cupped his chin, and turned his head toward her. His face remained impassive while he waited for her to speak. When she did not do so immediately, he sighed heavily in exasperation, and his anger quickly faded into tired boredom. Legolas, quite simply, found Nev's presence exhausting.

"What did you want to tell me, Nev?" he repeated, and braced himself for some foolish declaration of love.

Nev's eyes narrowed. You will not make this easy for me, will you? she mused, her heart constricting even as pride and resentment stiffened her spine. Much as she hated confrontation--not that this could be considered as such--she was determined to see this talk through and learn, once and for all, if she stood any chance of luring Legolas back. She no longer dared hope, but she needed to know for certain.

With a slight lift of her chin, Nev finally began to speak. She kept her voice calm, low-pitched. Reasonable. She would not lose control again like she had in the meadow.

"One thousand years ago I fell in love with you. Since then, my love has not wavered. It has not waned. I have missed you, Legolas, and I would like to be with you again. I am not asking for your love in exchange. I will not demand it of you. I only want to be with you, like we were that summer in Mirkwood. For as long as you are here in Lorien--and should you wish to return when your quest is done."

There! I have said it! she thought, triumphantly. Yet her words were not entirely sincere. Nev had no intentions of being a mere mistress to the Prince of Mirkwood. She had wanted always to be his bride, and would content herself with nothing less. But first she needed to lure him back into her bed, if she could.

Legolas lowered his hand from his chin and shifted his gaze to the small stream. In the pale lamplight, he could see the water clearly as it tripped and fell over the stones in its path, while bearing a fleet of golden leaves from the giant mallorns to the River Anduin. In a few days time, such would be the Fellowship's fate.

"What you ask for is not possible, Nev," he said, his voice strangely subdued.

"But do you not remember what it was like that summer, Legolas?" she countered, her voice unconsciously taking on that pleading tone again. She reached her hand toward his arm, but pulled it back at the last instant. He would not welcome it, she knew. Nev sighed deeply and continued. "One thousand years ago, we enjoyed each other's company, enjoyed each other's bodies. It was a summer full of pleasure and contentment. Do you not wish you could relive it?"

All of the sudden, a cricket chirped nearby, frightening her. Legolas turned just in time to see Nev search the ground next to her. She frantically swatted at the hapless creature when she found it.

"I prefer not to dwell on the past, Nev," he told her. "Let it go."

Nev raised startled eyes to his. Does he mean that revolting insect or the past? she wondered, momentarily confused, then froze when he reached over her and easily captured the cricket in his hand. Legolas shook his head in annoyance and released the harmless creature on his other side, away from her.

"Let it go," he repeated, clearly talking about the past.

"But you still want me," she insisted, gathering her wits about her. "Last night in the meadow--"

"How could I not want you?" Legolas interrupted, springing to his feet and glaring down at her with cold blue eyes. "And who would not? A body would have to be dead and buried not to want you. You are very beautiful. But that was not enough one thousand years ago, and it is even less so now."

"Because of my niece," she spat bitterly, rising to her feet as well. Nev quickly forgot her resolve to stay cool and serene, as she sneered in contempt. "Naia's brat."

But Nev could not ignore the dangerous glint that suddenly appeared in Legolas' eyes or the bruising force of his hand as he gripped her upper arm. "You will not call Ellie that," he warned between clenched teeth. "For as long as I am in Lorien, you will not show her any disrespect, or you will have me to contend with." Not to mention, Haldir, he silently mused, and was gratified to see Nevladiel's eyes widen in alarm. He dropped his hand.

Legolas might be furious with Ellie, but he would allow no one--especially Nev--to belittle or insult her. It was maddening really--on the one hand he wanted to throttle Ellie for her stubbornness, on the other, he wanted to defend her against any and all hurts. The Elf shook his head in consternation.

Nev thought he meant to threaten her again. "Forgive me, Legolas," she quickly apologized, rubbing her bruised arm, then added with a nervous chuckle, "You act as if you are in love with the girl!" The idea, of course, was preposterous. Up to now, Nev had only believed Ellie to be a passing fancy--someone Legolas would soon tire of.

"I am," the Elf openly admitted, and settled back down on the bank. While a part of him--namely his heart--recoiled from discussing his feelings with Nevladiel, he reasoned that it might be best to let her know unequivocally just how much Ellie meant to him. "Elanae is, in fact, my soul's mate. My heart is bound to her for all time."

Nev gaped at him incredulously. "That is impossible." He might as well have said that he would next sprout wings and fly.

"Improbable, but not impossible," Legolas replied, and smiled for the first time since he had left Ellie at Haldir's talan. It was a small smile to be sure, and a self-deprecating one at that. He had directed it at himself rather than at her, yet it took Nevladiel's breath away nonetheless.

Gods, but he is beautiful! she thought, as so many others--including Ellie--had also thought. She kneeled down next to him, almost in reverence, and held out imploring hands. Then she blurted, "You are my soul's mate, Legolas. I have loved you for a thousand years. I have yearned for you, cried for you in the darkness of my bedchamber--" Never in her entire life had she bared so much to another person.

"And yet, that did not keep you from the arms of other Elves," Legolas quietly observed, turning to meet her silver gaze. Had she been truly heartbroken, she would not have been able to cast her eyes upon Lord Erethon, let alone the other lovers Haldir had intimated at. Legolas had always recognized Nevladiel for what she was--a shallow, self-centered maid whose extraordinary beauty hid a vapid, uninteresting mind and a covetous heart. A maid suited for the superficiality of a life at court, but woefully unsuited for a life with him.

Nev stared at the Mirkwood Prince in shock, outraged at his bluntness and cruelty. How dare he say that to my face? she silently fumed, and found herself at a loss for words. Her throat tightened painfully with tears of mortification.

As he watched her struggle to regain her composure, Legolas felt true pity for Nevladiel for the first time. Why should I blame her for being what she cannot help but be? Self-deluding people like Nevladiel only saw what they wanted to see, only believed what they wanted to believe. His voice was gentle when he told her, "You have loved an illusion, Nev."

"What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly defensive.

"You cannot have loved me, when you do not even know the first thing about me--not my feelings, not my thoughts, not my dreams and aspirations. I have never shared them with you." Indeed, he had shared them with no one but Ellie. Not even his father knew him as well as she did.

"Your dreams?" she scoffed. "You are a Prince. One day you will be King."

"But I will not. My father has no intentions of giving up his throne and I have no intentions of assuming it." And then Legolas chuckled as it occurred to him that Nev would have done better to set her sights on his father, rather than on him. Thranduil and Nevladiel were well matched in every way.

"And I suppose you have shared your dreams, and your thoughts and feelings, with my niece?" she now asked him, her voice derisive. Imagine that! Legolas does not want to be King! What madness has possessed him? Surely he must have been bewitched! Nev peered at him closely, looking for some sign of ensorcelment. She recalled that for hundreds of years Ilissans had been burned at the stake for witchery, and the girl had confessed to her just this morning that she was an Ilissan.

"Ellie and I shared much during our journey," the Elf replied, bristling at Nev's tone, but deciding to ignore it for the time being.

How much? Nev wondered, as jealousy, insidious and painful, took over her heart. "She is Ilissan. She cannot stay with you."

"That is for her to decide," he said calmly, nonchalantly, even going so far as to shrug his shoulders. Legolas was seething inside, but he was close to convincing Nev to back off from her reckless pursuit. He could feel it. "And whatever Ellie decides to do, it will have no bearing whatsoever on my feelings for you."

Nevladiel pursed her lips and stared at him with resentful, disbelieving eyes. "I do not understand, Legolas. Why her? She is not beautiful. By Elven standards, she is not even passably pretty." And then, when she saw him tense, she quickly lifted her hand to stave off his anger. "I mean no offense by that. I just--cannot see what you see in her." It was not a lie. Nev truly did not understand Legolas' affection for the girl--just like she never understood what Haldir had seen in Naia. Witchery, she thought.

Legolas nodded his head slowly, and forced himself to relax. He was not obliged to speak further on the matter--and indeed, he found it repugnant to do so. But once again, the Elf believed such candor on his part would only serve his purpose.

"I am drawn to Ellie for many reasons--some of them clear, others not so obvious," he told her, staring off into the stream. Legolas' expression softened, his voice became hushed and contemplative as he spoke. "Over time, the Elves have grown complacent, even languid. We rest on our laurels and stagnate. We dream of our glory days long past and wallow in melancholy. But Ellie is not like that. She is--different. Full of life." Legolas turned to face Nev once more, and waved a hand to emphasize his words. "In Ellie, I see myself --when I was younger and as I would yet like to be. The same curiosity and wonder, the same passion. The same restlessness of spirit and sense of adventure."

Nev raised an elegant brow, as a small sardonic smile played at the corner of her lips. Legolas sighed. "You scoff at such feelings, Nev, because you do not understand them. You are not like Ellie and me. You look at her and you do not see her beauty. I look at her and see the most beautiful woman in the world." And the most maddening, but he was not about to tell her that.

"You are blinded by her," Nev replied bitterly.

Legolas chuckled. "Perhaps. But there is no denying her inner beauty. She has a kind, loving heart, and is generous to a fault. She knows about our past liaison, Nev, and she does not hold it against you. Another would, but it is not like Ellie to bear a grudge." Except against me. The unbidden thought came to Legolas' mind and he ruthlessly quashed it, before continuing. "There is more. Ellie is honest and forthright--I have never known her to lie. She is devoted to her beliefs, but willing to consider another person's point of view. And she is courageous and persevering, even when afraid. She does not give up. Are you aware that she and that boy survived for three months alone in the wilderness, traveling more than two hundred leagues?"

Nev nodded her head and muttered, "She mentioned something of it to me." The Elf maid no longer scoffed, no longer doubted. Every word that issued from Legolas' mouth was laced with genuine affection and respect for the girl. He really does love her, and not only that, he admires her! Nev realized with a pang. She did not hear his underlying anger and frustration because Legolas was careful to keep them hidden from her. A sense of utter hopelessness enveloped Nev's heart and mind, and she grew cold and numb. He is lost to me. She barely heard Legolas' next words.

"Ellie is smart and gifted, Nev. The Valar have blessed her not only with healing skills, with the gift of discernment as well. At times, I am in awe of her," he admitted, sounding almost bewildered. In truth, there were few people in Middle-Earth who awed the Mirkwood Prince. Lord Elrond was one, the Lady Galadriel another, Gandalf the Wizard a third. And Ellie. That she could still drive him insane with her unreasonableness was a different matter altogether.

"Well," Nev said stiffly, "that was quite an impressive list of attributes." May the Valar damn the girl!

"Indeed," Legolas concurred. "Elanae is the ideal consort for a warrior Prince. The ideal consort for me." He had not thought so at first, when he was fighting his growing affection for her. But he truly believed it now. "She and I are kindred spirits, Nev. Soul mates, bound together for all time." Whether she stays with me or not…

"So you are telling me there is no hope for us."

"There never was," he gently replied. Legolas could feel that success was at hand. With Nev removed from his path, he had one less problem to deal with. The Elf suddenly--and quite unexpectedly--felt magnanimous toward his former lover. "But you are not without hope. Lord Erethon seems overly fond of you."

Nev lifted her head proudly. "He wants to marry me," she informed him with a hint of her old hauteur, as she gracefully rose to her feet and smoothed her gown.

Legolas smiled, almost liking her at this moment. Almost, but not quite. She would have made a magnificent Queen, he silently acknowledged, still feeling generous, and stood up, as manners demanded. "Lord Erethon is a worthy match. His family is of an ancient and noble lineage. And I have heard of his exploits on the battlefield."

Nev gave Legolas a superior smile. "He does cut a fine figure, does he not?" She brushed an errant leaf from her white skirt, and wrinkled her nose at the faint green stains left by the moss. Erethon would never expect me to sit on such dirty ground! Really, Prince or not, Legolas could use some lessons on proper etiquette. Nev raised her head and pierced the Elf with her cold, pale eyes.

"I suppose I should wish you happiness with this little niece of mine, Legolas," she said, sniffing delicately. "It is the correct thing to do. The civilized thing."

At her condescending tone, Legolas' benevolent attitude instantly evaporated. A moment later, her provocative words stoked the fires of his anger and frustration. The respite from his dark mood had been much too brief.

"I cannot help but think that you are making a monumental mistake," Nev told him. "If my niece is anything like her mother--and she certainly looks like Naia--she will bring you nothing but grief and heartbreak."

Legolas did not reply. He stood as still and as rigid as sculptured stone, trying to control his spiraling temper while he listened to Nevladiel's self-serving speech.

"That woman nearly destroyed my brother. Her daughter will likely destroy you." Nev gave him a bitter, cynical smile. Had she been aware of the black emotions roiling inside the Elf, she would have bolted that very instant, run for her very life. But Legolas gave nothing away. "You are a fool, Legolas," she hissed, then turned and walked into the woods, leaving her small, silver lantern behind.

The way matters stood between Ellie and him, Legolas did not doubt Nev's words. As he watched her walk proudly away, dark rage churned in his gut, causing his stomach to clench and heave. Then it bubbled up and boiled inside his chest like molten rock from the bowels of the earth, rose in his throat, and threatened to choke him. Had he his bow and quiver with him, he might have shot her dead.

Instead, he took his fury out on the silver lantern, kicking it across the stream so that it hit a boulder and shattered into a dozen pieces, plunging the small glade into darkness once again. Legolas sat back down on the mossy bank and leaned his forehead against fisted hands.

Ellie approached him a short while later.

After not finding Legolas in the guest pavilion, Ellie had wandered aimlessly around the lawn until she came to the spot where the fountain emptied into the small stream. There, incredibly, she had picked up the ghost of Legolas' footsteps, and her heart rejoiced. Ellie quickly followed them downstream with a radiant smile on her face and a bounce in her step that reflected her soaring spirits. I accept! Her soul cried, freed at last from her misgivings. I accept his love, his desire, his wishes. Whatever he may want from me, I will give to him!

Ellie had made her choice. And now she wanted to share it with him.

Pausing only to grasp a tiny lamp hanging from a low limb, she walked hurriedly downstream and downhill past numerous talans and glades decorated with statuary and tracery gazebos, past quaint little bridges and stone steps leading to private glens and hideaways, past secret gardens locked behind iron gates. She walked until she left all the fairy lights behind her and the only light remaining was the faint green glow of her tiny lamp--and the love shining brightly in her eyes. She was deep in the woods now, somewhere near the green wall surrounding Caras Galadhon, but still Legolas' footsteps continued. Where did you go? she wondered, her smile wavering for the first time. And why?

Like most Elves, she walked with a quiet step on the soft, damp ground, instinctively avoiding twigs and rocks that might cut or scratch her naked feet. Ellie had not worn shoes since her bath, and thought she might never wear them again, although Naia had left behind a handsome assortment. Neither Legolas nor Nevladiel heard her silent approach through the trees, nor did they see the faint light from her lamp.

But Ellie heard them. Just beyond a bend in the stream, where the water fell over stones and boulders to form small, laughing rapids, Ellie heard the muffled sound of voices and stopped. Although she could not understand what they were saying, she instantly recognized the speakers. Legolas and Nevladiel. Ellie's smile faded away. Legolas and Nev! The girl recoiled in shock, her heart hammering painfully in her chest, as she leaned heavily against a tree trunk and slid slowly, and noiselessly, to the ground. Legolas and Nev! What can it mean?

A torrent of emotions began to swirl inside of Ellie. So many in fact that she could scarcely form a single thought. Several explanations ran wild through her mind--betrayal being the most obvious one. A romantic, secluded spot--with Nev. Perhaps they still want each other, but neither wish to see me get hurt. Or perhaps he thinks he can have us both! The thought nearly broke her heart. Ellie choked on a sob then rose on shaky legs and started to walk toward the bend in the stream, meaning to confront them. Suddenly, the possibility occurred to her that Nev might in fact have followed him there. Perhaps she is pursuing him, and he is innocent! Ellie clung to that hope, battling past her feeling of betrayal, even as her mind was filled with cold dread. Nev was so very, very beautiful. Can he truly resist her, for me? Can he make her understand that he loves me, and not her?

That possibility brought Ellie to a standstill. If he truly meant to dissuade Nev, then it would not be wise to make her presence known. Ellie was a forthright individual. She did not like sneaking around, and she balked at eavesdropping. But what else could she do? How else could she know? With a grimace of self-disgust, the girl crept closer to the voices, keeping to the trees and covering the fairy light with her hand, lest she be seen. Until at last she could hear and understand.

"--making a monumental mistake. If my niece is anything like her mother--and she certainly looks like Naia--she will bring you nothing but grief and heartbreak." Ellie flinched at the venom in her aunt's voice. "That woman nearly destroyed my brother. Her daughter will likely destroy you." Tears came unbidden to the girl's eyes at the realization that Nev had hated her mother. And why shouldn't she? What she says is true! Ellie conceded.

She quickly blinked her tears away and waited with bated breath for Legolas to reply and come to her defense. And when he said nothing, she waited some more, leaning forward and listening keenly. Oh gods, does he believe what she says about me? With a sinking heart, the girl knew he had every right to believe it. Please say something, Legolas! Instead of hearing his voice, however, Ellie was startled by a loud, clattering crash, that sent her reeling backwards and into a bush, at the same moment that she saw the shadowy figure of her aunt pass by her hiding place. Lacking the sensitivity of other Elves, Nev never heard the rustle of leaves as her niece struggled to keep her footing, and she did not see the tiny flicker of green light where no light should have been.

For a long moment, Ellie remained frozen in place, shocked by her aunt's sudden appearance, and embarrassed at having almost been caught. Then slowly, her body relaxed and she closed her eyes in relief. Her worst fears were held at bay. Whatever Legolas and Nevladiel may have been doing together in the deep woods, it was unlikely that they had shared any intimacy.

Ellie longed to go to the Elf, wrap her arms around him, and tell him that she had finally made her choice. But shame at having overheard Nev's parting words held her back. She did not want Legolas to think she was eavesdropping. She did not want him to think any less of her. So she stood there in the thicket for many a minute--all the while aware of his presence a short distance away--until she thought that enough time had passed to not arouse his suspicions. Then she followed the stream around the bend with her tiny lamp held before her, lighting the way.

Ellie's breath caught when she first beheld Legolas sitting cross-legged on the mossy bank, and she paused to drink him in, her heart all but bursting out of her. Then she suffered a pang of regret as she noticed his utter stillness, his stoic expression and unblinking eyes staring blindly at the water. Legolas always assumed such an attitude when he was upset or angry. Ellie knew she was to blame--or at least, Nev's words about her were to blame.

She drew closer, and the Elf did not turn, even though he must have noticed the light and felt her coming. Ellie sighed, and walked the last few steps to where he sat then lowered her lamp to the ground, much as Nevladiel had done a short while earlier. And still he did not turn or move. He did not acknowledge her presence in any way. Why are you doing this? she wondered, and hesitated to speak. Is it because of Nev?

Nev had nothing to do with it, although her words had certainly provoked his fury to return. The truth was, Legolas was standing on the edge of a precipice, his emotions so intense that he was afraid of losing control over them. Part of him wanted to draw Ellie into his arms, and kiss her and pet her, and make her feel cherished and safe. But another part of him--a part he could no longer rein in--wanted to hurt her as she had hurt him. He did not want to touch her, for fear that he would shake her or worse. He did not want to talk to her for fear that his words would be unkind. He did not even want to look at her. Legolas knew that the mistrust he had lately seen in her eyes, and expected to see now, would finally push him over the edge.

With a small frown furrowing her brow, Ellie sat down next to him and stared at his chiseled profile. Legolas did not blink, he did not speak, but he did not move away either. Ellie sighed again, loudly, her breath stirring a few tendrils of his long blonde hair. She reached a hand up to move the wayward lock behind his ear, taking care not to touch the sensitive organ. Still, he did not move.

This is a game, isn't it? she wondered. Or maybe not…Ellie was quite baffled and disconcerted by Legolas' behavior, his aloofness. She could sense the anger inside of him, but not its depth. Ellie's frown deepened. With a small whimper, she lay down next to him and placed her head gently on his lap. She embraced his knees with her arm and gazed across the water to the dark trees on the other side. Ellie longed to tell Legolas her heart's choice, but she no longer could be certain he wanted to hear the words. And so she said nothing.

When Ellie's small head came to rest on his lap, the Elf nearly groaned out loud. The need to touch her became unbearable, overriding his fear and his anger. Sighing deeply, Legolas closed his eyes and buried his hands in her curls, cradling her head and absently caressing her temples. Damn you, Ellie, for making a fool out of me. At last, he spoke.

"You were out there a long time. Why did you not step forward sooner?"

Ellie started then chided herself for her stupidity. Of course, he would have sensed her the same way she had sensed him! Or perhaps he had heard her stumble into that bush. Shame flooded her heart. "I was afraid you would think I was eavesdropping," she admitted. Ellie had never lied to Legolas, and she would not begin to do so now.

"And were you?" he now asked, turning her face toward him. Ellie rolled onto her back and stared at Legolas with her large, somber eyes. Guilt-ridden, apologetic eyes.

"No--I mean, well--" she stammered, "I only heard Nev's last words."

"I see," the Elf replied evenly, although he was genuinely surprised. He had not expected such behavior from her. Legolas studied her face coolly and took note of the telltale blush creeping up her neck, visible even in the dim light of that ridiculous little lamp. So, you still do not trust me, Ellie. You were much more than eavesdropping, were you not? You were waiting for me to fail you. To prove you right…He felt deeply disappointed, outraged, and his fingers unconsciously tightened on her scalp.

Ellie winced and Legolas immediately softened his grip, but his hands remained entangled in her hair, pulling and tugging every time they moved. She did not like this strange mood of his. She did not understand it. Something had gone terribly wrong between the time she had left him at the foot of stairs of her family's talan and Nev's departure.

"My aunt is very beautiful," she finally ventured, "and very persuasive." Ellie closed her eyes slightly, not wanting him to see the accusation in them, and watched him through the thick veil of her lashes. Why did you not defend me?

"Indeed, she is," Legolas agreed, his face stern and forbidding. Ellie was testing him, and he resented it. He had pleaded and coaxed, done too much explaining already, and had nothing to show for it but that confounded kiss--and now this, a thinly veiled accusation about his ability to resist Nev. He would not give in now. Nor would his anger let him. It was Ellie's turn to show him some trust.

But he had not counted on his traitorous heart. At the sound of his voice, so harsh and unyielding, Ellie's soft lips puckered into a pout and her eyes opened wide in surprise. He could clearly see the hurt inside of them. For a brief moment the same hurt echoed in his heart. She was soft and pliant and vulnerable as she lay there with her head on his lap, and the loving, nurturing side of Legolas wanted nothing more than to kiss her senseless. Forgive her lack of faith in him. And beg her, if need be, one more time.

"To me you are beautiful too, Ellie," he assured her. "And in ways that Nev could never be." He untangled his hand from her hair to gently trace the contours of her cheek, his fingers so rigid that they trembled slightly as they touched her skin. A bright, beautiful smile alighted on Ellie's face. Legolas stilled his hand. He did not return her smile.

Instead, the Elf's face tightened ominously and he pressed his lips together until there was nothing left of them but a thin slash. Legolas silently berated himself for being a fool. He had shown a momentary weakness, a lapse, but the proud, angry side of him was determined not to waver again. He must not give in or she would run circles around him like she had done this entire godforsaken day. Legolas withdrew his hands from her face and hair, and clenched them into fists at his sides. It was the only way he could stop himself from touching her. Or strangling her. We have things to settle between us this night, Ellie.

She did not know what to make of him. Ellie's smile trembled, was replaced by a puzzled frown, as she slowly sat up. This new Legolas was a stranger to her. She lifted a hesitant hand to his face and nearly cried out when he flinched at her touch. His eyes narrowed slightly, piercing her with their brilliant intensity, challenging her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she would get a word out, he asked her, "What are you doing here, Ellie?"

"I--I could not sleep--" she stammered, for the second time that evening. "The bed--" There was no way she could tell him what she had seen on Naia's bed.

Legolas nodded, misunderstanding. "Your body is no longer used to the comforts of a soft bed. You have been sleeping on the ground for months now," he said matter-of-factly, with a careless shrug of his shoulder. Yet he was eyeing her like a bird of prey does a dove just before the kill. "But why did you seek me out? Why not stay in the talan with Jamie and Haldir?"

"I--" she started to say, then abruptly shut her mouth. Why indeed…Ellie was not prepared to tell him. Not as long as he was behaving so belligerently toward her. And so, she responded with a question of her own. "Legolas, why are you angry with me? Is it because of what Nev said?" Ellie was not one to hedge or avoid a confrontation. She wanted to get at the truth.

"Nev has nothing to do with us whatsoever. She has only come between us because you let her," the Elf snapped. The muscle in his jaw started to twitch uncontrollably. Ellie stared at it for a moment, fascinated. She had never seen it twitch that fast before.

"But you are angry," she insisted, leaning toward him. "With me. Why? I don't understand." And she grabbed his arm, half expecting him to pull away.

Much to her surprise, he did not, but the glint in his eyes became even more menacing--if that was possible. Ellie felt the first frisson of fear slither up her spine, and with it, unexpectedly, a stab of desire. Hot and savage, and pooling between her legs. Oh gods…

Legolas noticed. How could he not? He had spent a lifetime fending off the attentions of lust-crazed Elves--or bedding them at will. Why should Ellie be any different? After all, she was more passionate than most and she loved him. The heat emanating from her was palpable. It scorched him, aroused his body. Already his loins were painfully tight. His delicate nostrils flared and he swore he could smell her sudden wetness. He remembered the taste of her and his mouth salivated in anticipation. Suddenly, touching her did not seem like such a bad idea.

Legolas knew that this behavior was beneath him. He knew that Ellie deserved more than such base thoughts. After all, he loved Ellie, and cherished her--more than he had ever loved or cherished anything or anyone in his nearly three thousand years of life. But the rational, gentle side of the Elf vanished in the face of his overwhelming anger--and lust. The hurt and humiliation of the past day, his mounting frustration at her stubbornness, and the weeks of torturous abstinence when he had kept himself from her, had finally taken their toll. The Legolas who sat beside Ellie now was a warrior, driven to conquer.

"Why you are angry with me?" she asked again when he did not answer. Her voice was low and breathless, her eyes were fixed on his sensuous mouth. And the hand that held his arm had begun to shake.

She was ripe for bedding, his to take as he saw fit, and a fierce elation rose inside his chest to mingle freely with his anger. Why should he not take advantage of her desire and force her into submission? That is what a warrior would do. And as long as he did not spill his seed inside of her, there would be no child. He would be cheating her that was true, but, Legolas reasoned, if he were careful and mindful of her pleasure, she need not ever know. She need not ever know. And he--he might just be able to bind her to him for all time.

Legolas smiled down at her, a hot, feral smile, and said, "I am not angry." To Ellie's ears it sounded like a threat. He was daring her to deny it. She met his implacable gaze, wet her lips nervously, and started to drop her hand, but he covered it with his own, squeezing it so tightly that he could feel every fragile bone. "I could shatter your hand so easily," his grip seemed to say. "I could shatter you," his eyes warned. Then he released her, and moved his hand to her hair, brushing back the long curls that covered the front of her dress until he could see the shadowy peaks of her breasts through the filmy fabric. His lips curled slightly and he met her gaze again. "I am not angry," he repeated, and squeezed one of her nipples. She gasped in shock. And even as her desire spiraled, Ellie felt outraged that he would treat her this way.

She tugged at his wrist with both her hands, her nails raking his skin, and leaned ever closer to him. "Liar," she hissed into his face, baring her teeth in defiance.

Legolas went utterly still, his beautiful face as hard and cold as granite, but his eyes--His eyes were alive and blazing with deep fury and savage desire. They collided with hers in a clash of wills. I do not like you this way! Ellie silently protested, even though her body told him differently. She was so agitated and aroused that her breath was coming in short gasps. It tickled and teased Legolas' throat, driving him mad with want.

With a groan he was not even aware of uttering, the Elf grabbed Ellie's face and pulled her toward him, so swiftly that she had no time to resist. No time to think. His lips descended on hers in a long and agonizing kiss. A kiss that was hard enough to bruise, yet spoke of such insatiable hunger and longing and heartbreak, that it left Ellie reeling with shock and awe--and consumed by the same ravenous hunger. She started to kiss him back just as urgently, but then Legolas growled, "You are mine!" against her lips, before his tongue plunged into the velvety depths of her mouth, making her quiver and go weak.

Ellie raised her hands to clutch at his shirt, and the Elf thought she meant to push him away, so he caught her wrists. They were so slender that he wrapped one hand around both, and used his other to ease her back onto the soft ground. And as he followed her down, he continued to ravish the inside of her mouth, his tongue entangling with hers, sliding across her palate, her teeth, delighting in every texture, relishing her taste. A moan from deep inside her throat escaped Ellie's lips--a wild and mournful moan that Legolas answered with one of his own.

Now the Elf stretched her arms up above her head, her small wrists still imprisoned in his hand. He lay half leaning over her, his body just grazing hers. For a moment he lifted his head, took in her flushed face and swollen lips, her dark eyes drowsy with passion. His gaze traveled lazily down her dress, pausing where the filmy fabric pulled tightly across her breasts because of her up-stretched arms, before moving downward past the tiny bulge of her belly ring, to the dark shadow at the apex of her legs. She must have removed her petticoat before going to bed, Legolas surmised. And because he could not help himself, he cupped her mound with his free hand. His shaft hardened furiously at the feel of her curls through the thin dress. Then he tightened his hold, massaging her with his fingers, pushing the fabric between her folds, so that their outline was clearly visible to his hungry eyes. Ellie was so damp there that her moisture seeped through to his fingers. As he continued to massage her, she instinctively arched her hips upward against his hand. It was not enough. Ellie became unbearably hot, and oh so thirsty, her small body consumed by a raging inferno from which there was no escape. No escape--Oh, gods, I am going to die, she thought, unconsciously echoing her mother's words of so long ago.

The more he touched her and the more she responded to his touch, the quicker the Elf's fury faded and his hurt was appeased until nothing remained inside of him but passion and raw need. But it was passion with an edge, and an all-consuming need that would demand everything of Ellie--all she had to give and more.

"Legolas--" she whimpered, her voice pleading, and he raised his eyes to her face in time to see her bite her lower lip so savagely that she drew blood. He increased the pressure on her privates, rapidly rubbing her sensitive core back and forth through the thin fabric, dipping a silk-clad finger inside of her as far as it would go. Her hips were frantically rocking up and down, lifting off the ground from her waist to her knees. She hopelessly tried to pull her wrists free from his grasp, but he would not let go. Legolas' eyes were fixed on Ellie's face, watching with rising concern as she continued to mutilate her lip. "Come, sweetling, you are so close," he muttered encouragingly, covering her mouth with his own, offering his own lips for her to chew. He rubbed her core harder and harder until his fingers burned from the heat of her. No escape--she silently wailed, screwing her eyes shut and breaking out in an uncustomary sweat, every bit of her slick and wet and steaming until finally she convulsed--violently almost painfully--and collapsed beneath him on the cool, damp ground.

She opened her dazed eyes to find his bright blue gaze mere inches away. "I love you, Ellie," Legolas mouthed, the words barely audible, for he had had to force them past the thick lump that had formed in his throat.

"I love you too," she whispered, her eyes welling with emotion.

Legolas removed his hand from her privates, released her captive wrists, and covered her damp body with his own. She gasped as his body crushed hers, leaving her helpless and trapped, unable to break free. As if I would want to! she thought, desire spiraling once again inside of her. He was so much bigger than she was, so much stronger, and Ellie reveled in the feel of his sculpted muscles, and in the insistent pressure of his engorged shaft against her soft thighs. Oh, gods, she thought, flinging her freed arms open wide on either side of her, I want him inside of me!

"Legolas, take me," she pleaded, but the Elf smiled and shook his head.

"Soon, Ellie, soon," he promised in a breathless whisper, and it would have to be, but first he wanted to taste her some more. Now that she had surrendered to him, the Elf wanted to savor every inch of her.

Legolas braced his arms on either side of her head, his elbows pinning her hair to the ground. His silken locks spilled freely around them, caressing the sides of her face and tickling her throat. Ellie wrapped her arms around his neck as he lowered his face to hers. His tongue returned to her mouth, but this time did not invade it. Instead, with utmost delicacy, Legolas slid his tongue across her lower lip, tasting the salty tang of her blood where she had cut the tender flesh moments earlier. Then he gently sucked on the lip for a moment longer, soothing it, loving it, before brushing his mouth to hers in a quick kiss.

He was loath to work her lips any more--they looked so red and swollen and painful. She would have to heal them later. Instead, Legolas pressed petal-soft kisses to her face, tracing a line from her jaw to a dainty earlobe. He suckled on the soft flesh and nipped it playfully, before his tongue plunged into the shell, sliding and sucking on every curve and contour, making her shiver in ticklish delight. As he continued to make love to her ear, Legolas' hands gently massaged her scalp, feathering his fingers through her curls and cradling her head against the ground. Ellie was drowning in wave after wave of sensuous pleasure, but she was sentient enough to want to please him. To give to him some of what he had already given her.

She wanted to touch him there. But her face was level with his, and Ellie was much too small. She stretched and squirmed, yet try as she might, her hand could not reach below his hip. Ellie grunted in frustration, and Legolas chuckled in amusement, aware of what she was trying to do. He covered her hand with his, and whispered into her ear, "Be patient, little one. Soon I will teach you all there is to know about pleasing your Elf--but first, let me take pleasure in pleasing you."

Ellie would not be put off. Never one to give up easily, she slid her hands from his neck to his ears. At her first hesitant touch, Legolas' body went rigid. When she traced the delicate pointed shells, he began to tremble. And when her fingers slid inside each canal, she watched in fascination as Legolas' beautiful face contorted with lust and rapture. Even though Elves seldom perspired, Ellie swore she could see tiny beads of wetness all along his hairline; his skin felt nearly as hot as hers did. She continued to tease his sensitive ears, until his body shuddered violently on top of hers and he rolled onto his side, pulling her with him. He was perilously close to exploding inside his pants.

"Enough," he growled. "I want you naked."

He wanted to bury himself inside of her, even though he was no longer certain he could stop his seed from spilling into her womb. It did not matter to him. All that mattered to Legolas was being able to satisfy the desperate need of his body--and soul--to become one with Ellie. To meld their bodies together at last.

As he fumbled with the laces on her back, the Elf began to grind his hips against her thighs, his rhythm slow at first, then becoming increasingly rapid. He loosened her gown enough to lower it beyond her breasts, and he did so with an impatient tug, trapping her arms in the process. At the sight of her small, pale breasts, Legolas breathed in sharply. Dainty breasts, he thought, their skin so delicate and translucent that even in the dim light of the lamp he could make out the tracery of veins that spread out from the berry-pink tips of her nipples. Ellie's nipples puckered into hard peaks from the sizzling heat of his stare, her breasts seemed to swell at the slightest touch of his hands. Tonight, I will suckle them like an infant, he vowed, his finger tracing the fine blue line of a vein on one soft mound. But first he needed to get inside her. If she were taller, he would be able to do both at the same time. But Ellie was so small that once he entered her, the top of her head would reach no higher than his chest.

"Help me with your gown," he commanded, impatient to get her undressed. Ellie struggled out of her long sleeves, and shifted her weight as he tugged the filmy fabric downward past her waist and hips, past her slender thighs and legs, until the dress lay abandoned in a shimmering pool of white underneath her feet.

And then Legolas forgot to breathe.

Ellie rolled onto her back beside him, gloriously naked at last, and it was more than the Elf could bear. He had seen her naked before, of course, days past when she had walked out of the frigid mountain lake, and she had been naked in the water in the bathing pool last night. But this--this was different. This was Ellie, hot and flushed from his loving hands, arching her hips toward him without even realizing it, waiting to give him the most precious gift she could ever give him--herself.

To Legolas' loving eyes, she was perfect. "You are beautiful, Ellie," he told her, his voice hushed and reverent. "Never doubt that."

And she believed him.

The Elf sidled up against her and pressed his throbbing erection against the side of her hip. He was still fully clothed. Then, he sat slightly up, his weight resting on one elbow, as he caressed her from head to toe in one long, loving stroke. A caress that started on her cheek, and swept down the slender column of her neck, over a collarbone and one breast. He briefly paused to pinch the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, before continuing to the center of her belly. There his fingers traced her belly ring, then slid lower to her mound, where he playfully tugged at her curls while pressing his palm hard against her. Ellie moaned and thrust her hips upward. Her privates were dripping wet, and as his hand glided down her thigh to her knees and below, it left behind a trail of pearly wetness.

When his hand left her mound, Ellie groaned in dismay, and instinctively lowered her own hand to ease her torment. "Legolas--" she pleaded once again, shutting her eyes tight and clenching her jaw.

Legolas smiled and straddled her writhing body. He would not undress just yet. He wanted her to do it for him--afterwards, and before he took her a second time.

"Open your eyes, Ellie," he said. His voice was soft but there was no denying the command in it. "I want to look into them when I take you."

She obeyed. Anything he asked her now, she would do, and Legolas knew it. Such was the spell his heart had woven around her. Such was the hold his body had over hers. She had bewitched him in the same way.

With Ellie's wide, luminous eyes now fixed on his face, he took hold of her wayward hand as it massaged her privates, and brought it to his lips. Her mouth flew open in surprise when he began to vigorously lick the hand, and suck her fingers dry of her feminine essence. The last time he had tasted her so intimately, she had been half-asleep and hardly aware of what he was doing. This time, she knew full well, and it both shocked her and sent a tremor of excitement coursing through her body. If only he would ease the throbbing ache inside of her--

"Legolas, please--"

"I am already there, sweetling," he told her with a smile, as he lowered his body over hers, bracing his elbows against the ground so as to not smother her. And, indeed, he was there. While Ellie had watched him suckle her hand in rapt fascination, Legolas had loosened his pants. Now his shaft lay hot and pulsating between her thighs, and she gasped at the feel of his size and hardness.

"Oh gods--" she moaned and Legolas' smile grew wider. He began to rub himself back and forth against her privates, spreading her wetness, bringing her to the edge.

"I will be gentle, Ellie, but the first time will hurt," he now warned her.

Ellie did not care. She was beyond caring, as she wrapped her legs around Legolas' waist and pushed her womanhood wantonly and wildly against his erection. She loved the soft touch of his silk shirt--wet with her perspiration--against her naked skin. She loved the rough feel of his suede pants, now bunched below his hips, as they chafed her tender thighs. Ellie's arms reached beneath his long shirt, and she ran her hands up and down his back and sides, feeling his ribs surge with the force of his breath. Both of them were panting now. Both of them were dizzy and breathless with desire. Her hands found his flat male nipples, and she teased them and pinched them in imitation of what he had done to hers, until the Elf groaned loudly.

He lowered a hand to part her folds, his fingers trembling slightly, and her hot essence trickled onto his palm. The tip of his staff nudged at her small opening, and for the first time, Ellie whimpered in distress. He feels so big! And I'm so small! Her virginal body resisted his intrusion.

Legolas saw a maiden's fear alight on her face. "You will be fine, Ellie," he tried to reassure her. Then, to distract her from that fear, he brought his other hand to her mouth, and slipped two fingers between her lips. "Suck on them," he ordered. And she did, almost desperately, as her mindless lust battled with her growing apprehension. He feels so big! There is no way--

Of course, Legolas knew better. Ellie was not the first maiden he had bedded, although admittedly, she was the smallest. With a pang he realized that this coupling might end up being more painful for her than he had anticipated, despite her earlier eagerness to receive him. I am so sorry, love, he silently apologized, as his shaft began to penetrate her tight, resisting flesh. Ellie's eyes widened in shock and discomfort, her hands frantically clawed his back. There is no way… And in a sudden panic, she bucked her hips, until the tip of his shaft slipped free of her. Legolas did not try to stop her, although he thought he might actually die of despair if he did not take her now.

She pulled his hand from her mouth, whispered, "I'm sorry," and stared at him with wounded eyes. Ellie half expected the Elf to become angry. But Legolas simply smiled--a patient, tender smile that did more to reassure her than any words he could have spoken.

After a moment he asked her, "Do you trust me?" And when she nodded without hesitating, he lowered his mouth to hers in a soft kiss, and said, "The pain is fleeting, love, but the pleasure--the pleasure will remain with you long after. And there is nothing in this world to compare with it, Ellie." Then he stroked her hair, trying to forestall her fear, as his engorged shaft pressed against her unyielding flesh once again.

But there was no help for it--Ellie was simply too tight, and Legolas' release was too close at hand. To enter her now before she was ready to accept him would be to brutalize her, for the Elf knew he would no longer be able to control his throbbing member. Once more, he lowered his hand to her privates, as he shifted his weight to one hip. He parted the tender folds, and massaged her gently, wooing her wet flesh with his fingers and the tip of his shaft, as he rained soft kisses on her head.

Legolas came to a decision, one he hoped she would understand.

"Touch me now, Ellie," he urged her in a ragged voice, and she quickly slid her hand down his back. He guided it to his thick erection and Ellie gasped when she could not close her fingers around it. Oh gods--There is no way--her mind protested, even as her heart exulted to hold such a potent, life-giving force in her small hand.

With his hand still covering hers he began to pump his shaft up and down until she grasped the rhythm and was able to take over. She marveled at the silky smoothness of his hot skin, at the pulsating life within it. "You have it, love. Keep going," he encouraged her. But no sooner did Legolas let go of her hand than his body convulsed in one great spasm. Ellie looked up to see a look of rapture such as she had never seen before sweep across his face, his pale skin tinged with rose and shimmering like moonlight, his eyes blissfully closed. I did that to him! she thought in wonder and amazement. But in the next instant, he spilled his warm seed all over her hand and mound, and Ellie recoiled, thinking of the loss of his precious gift. Legolas moved quickly to reassure her.

"Meldanya, I promise you my seed," he whispered urgently her ear. "I will give it to you freely, next time, but you were not ready now." And before she could think to utter a cry of protest, he dipped one finger inside her and then another, thrusting deeply and stretching her narrow passage up to her virgin barrier. Ellie shuddered in delight, as desire flared hot and wild inside her body once more, and her hips began their rhythmic dance. "You are doing well, sweetling," he encouraged, and pressed tender kisses to her sweat-dampened hair and temples. Small broken sounds fell from her lips, whimpers and moans of pleasure, as his fingers brought her to climax. And just as she reached the pinnacle and cried out his name, Legolas tore through the thin membrane of her maidenhead.

She fell back on the soft ground, her release so intense and pleasurable that she scarcely took note of the pain. Legolas dropped down next to her, and gently withdrew his blood-stained fingers. Soon he would carry her to the stream and wash her, soothe her soreness, for sore she would be from the stretching of her passage, unless she healed herself. But for the time being, he was content to lie next to her, in the afterglow of their passion, his hand cradling her mound.

"I love you, Ellie," he whispered, meeting her bright gaze, puzzled by his sudden blurred vision. And then Legolas realized with a start, I am crying--

He had begun this seduction in anger and lust, meaning to coerce her, and cheat her into remaining with him. Meaning to conquer, and defeat her will, once and for all. But in the end, she had vanquished him. Ellie and the pure, selfless love he felt for her.

If ever Ellie had any doubts that Legolas' love was a passing fancy, they were swept away at that moment as she looked into his beautiful eyes, now unguarded and vulnerable. Looked into those eyes and beyond, past the intricate weaves of his mind and the strong steady beat of his heart, into the far reaches of his soul--where she saw the truth of his words. Legolas' love was a beacon of light, shining bright and untainted, and directed at her. He would never fail her.

She smiled, and reached out with her hand, slid her fingertips down his wet cheek, past his neck and chest and flat stomach, until they reached his groin. Then her hand cupped his unsheathed shaft--for Legolas had not yet raised his pants. "Next time," he promised, yet again, lest she had not believed him before.

Next time he would gift her his seed.

The Elf had made his promise without knowing her decision. Whether or not she chose to stay with him, Legolas would join his body with hers.

Beneath her small hand, his dormant shaft suddenly stirred back to life, and Ellie gasped in surprise. She raised startled eyes to his, to find an amused, and slightly chagrined, smile on his face.

Ellie giggled, then sidled over and up until the tip of her nose touched his.

"Legolas," she said, "there will be many next times between us--an eternity's worth of them," and sealed her vow with a kiss…