Chapter 43

The elf was lost. Lost within and lost without. He floated somewhere within a sea of nothing, strange images flickering before his eyes so quickly he had no time for them to make sense before they changed again. He knew neither where he was, nor how he had got there and his mind reeled in confusion. A voice called somewhere in the distance, faint and familiar yet he could place it not. A hard knot of panic began to form within his chest and though he tried hard to force it away, loosen its strands by denial, it steadily grew. The place he had before felt safe and comforting now began to feel oppressive and menacing. His whole being ached, feeling at once taut with pleasure yet, at the same time, riven with pain.

Panic rose once more as chills swept through him and the carefully built wall of calm he had been erecting in his mind began to crumble. Who was he? Where was he? And why was he so alone?

~o~

Breliond, captain of Mirkwood's eastern patrol had never felt so tired. No matter how many orcs they managed to fell there seemed to be an inexhaustible supply to take over. Never had he seen such a large force as the one they now faced and his heart began to ache with the thought of the losses ahead. Swiping the head cleanly from the grotesque body before him he pushed on. Leading from the front as was his wont, knowing that his patrol needed no further orders than those already given. To reach the inner circle of orcs, find out just what they protected and take them all down. He picked up the pace again, ignoring the growing ache in muscles over used for far too long and swung his long sword up with an elegant sweeping motion, neatly splitting another of the foul creatures in two before twisting sideways and thrusting his weapon out before him effectively spitting two more. He smiled in grim satisfaction whilst pulling his blade back out from the pair and allowing their bodies to fall then lightly jumping forward. Little by little his small unit was inching towards their goal. His eyes flicked towards the statue like ring of orcs before he was set upon once more and his blade rose to the challenge, leading him into another deadly dance.

~o~

Floundering now, the elf opened his mouth and tried to scream yet no sound emerged. His overworked mind longed for peace yet the dark that now surrounded him offered none. Alone, he wept, yet did not feel the tears upon his skin nor taste their salt. Engulfed in despair his fëa began to struggle for escape, it's tiny, butterfly wings fluttering within his chest. So mired within his broken thoughts he did not at first notice the changes around him, the way that shapes began to form within the dark, stretching and elongating into half remembered silhouettes. The faint sounds beginning to emerge, soothing and sweet, which his ears knew but could not place. It was only when the first pinprick of light appeared that all this registered and his eyes became transfixed by the sight.

As a rabbit caught within its beam he stilled. The pinprick enlarged. Became a dot, a circle, gradually enlarging yet he felt no fear and as it grew the trembling within his chest began to settle. A sense of calm washed over him, of peace and love and he knew he was alone no longer. The light flared, then was gone and suddenly, as if waking from a dream, he felt the earth beneath his feet.

He stood, deep within a forest, a forest that called to his heart as if he knew it well. Tall trees towered above his head, their branches softly swaying in an unfelt breeze that caused the leaves to rustle gently, almost as if they were trying to speak. The scent of life and growing things hung in the air and before him, still and regally poised, stood a magnificent white stag.

Slowly, hesitantly, on legs as shaky and unsure as those of a new born calf taking its first, tentative steps the elf moved forwards towards the creature which waited patiently, unafraid of his approach. The feathers of a memory tickled at the corner of his mind yet as he tried to grasp it flew out of reach. He had been here before, seen this very stag before. Surely this was so. Reaching out with one, pale hand he finally grew close enough to almost touch the velvety fur covering the great beasts muzzle then looked into its huge, warm eyes and felt himself falling into their liquid gaze.

~o~

Drawing a shaky breath Breliond nodded a brief show of thanks to the warrior who had just saved him from being decapitated by the large orc who had crept up, unseen behind him whilst he had been otherwise engaged in battle with another two of its kindred. It had been hard going but the group were now much closer to their goal. The only problem was the closer they got, the harder pressed they became by more and more of the foul creatures they were trying to thwart.

Just as he was beginning to wonder if the remaining members of his patrol would prevail a horn rang out from his left, quickly followed by a rush of newcomers. The western patrol, who had been held in reserve, firing arrows down from the trees for as long as possible, now joined in the fray and as their captain fought his way to Beliond's side with a grim smile, hope returned that success may indeed be theirs.

~o~

Thranduil, his rage now a white hot fire within his chest, stalked towards the dark figure responsible for his son's condition. Legolas had disappeared as soon as the King had reached his feet, fading away into a grey mist that had enveloped his bloodied, writhing form like a cocoon, shutting him off from the rest of the world and leaving the two of them alone under the twisted trees. His body thrummed with the beat of the forest and as Thranduil opened himself up to its power he saw his opponent take an involuntary step backwards, making him smile inwardly. The dark creature obviously had no concept of what a parent would do when the life of their child was at stake and to underestimate an elf of the Greenwood, let alone its king, was a very grave and stupid mistake.

Ice burning from his eyes, Thranduil advanced, slowly drawing the sword he had been, until now, unaware he wore from its sheath at his belt, his gaze never once faltering from the other's form. This thing, this creature, would learn what it meant to cross the king of Greenwood the Great.

With a roar Thranduil suddenly raised his mighty blade, sped over the last few feet and lunged, swinging the sword down as he did so in a move intended to split his opponent down the middle. Too late he realised that there was nothing before him with which the blade could connect and although he fought to stay upright the weight behind his thrust carried him forwards to fall into the void that had opened up around him.

~o~

Love surrounded him, drew him deeper and deeper into its warm embrace and the elf finally allowed himself to relax as the forest faded into the background. For the first time, in what seemed like forever he was at peace. No pain, no confusion, no longing for something that always seemed out of reach, no insistent need and it felt so good. A soft breath of air caressed his face carrying the scent of freshly picked grass and clover with a hint of bark and he felt his lips curl up into a smile as a memory stirred in his mind. An elfling, himself, standing in a clearing, holding out a handful of purple flowers. The memory expanded. He was not alone. Another elf knelt beside him. An adult. With long silver hair. Holding his other hand and whispering softly, soothingly, encouraging, both him and… The image in his mind wavered, threatening to fracture as he tried unsuccessfully to recall who else had been there. For a moment the elf could not breathe as his heart beat quickened in panicked response, stealing the very air from his lungs and causing black spots to swim before his eyes. Then suddenly a warm, velvet nose nuzzled under his chin and calm swept through him once more in recognition. A stag. It was a stag in the memory. Laughter bubbled up within his throat, sweet, innocent, childish laughter, as in his mind he felt the tickle of fuzzy lips upon his palm once more. He was with his father who had taken him to meet the Great Stag of Eryn Galen for the first time.

Basking in the joyous feelings created by the memory the elf allowed himself to mentally watch his younger self gently stroke the huge animal's nose as it gathered the flowery offering from his hand whilst his father's strong, loving voice introduced them, one to the other. He heard again the love and pride in the elder elf's words as he spoke, naming him son and heir, saw the creatures head dip as did his own in mutual salute and felt the power of the forest suddenly surge through his veins then dissipate, leaving behind the scent of earth, leaf mold and fresh air tinged with a sense of hope.

The memory faded and once again the elf found himself standing in the forest only this time he was alone. Nay, not quite alone, he realised as a slender figure suddenly dropped from the canopy to crouch before him, long, matted hair obscuring his features and barely clothed in naught but stained, tattered breeches. For a few seconds each was still then the stranger suddenly snarled and uncoiled, springing forwards with a speed that took the elf completely by surprise, reaching out to fasten almost claw like hands around his throat which were barely dodged as he somehow managed to throw himself sideways, almost gagging on the smell of death and musk emanating from the deranged creature. Turning his move into a shoulder roll, the elf regained his feet just in time to lose them again as his opponent somersaulted, twisted and flipped, to plant his feet firmly into the centre of the elf's chest knocking him to the floor before landing astride his stomach, winding him in the process. The elf bucked wildly, throwing his opponent then rolled over to crawl out of the way but was stopped as a strong hand grasped him by the ankle and pulled him back. Flipping over onto his back he kicked out with his free foot only to have that one grabbed in a vice like grip also. The stranger was stronger than he looked.

On they struggled, neither gaining the upper hand. Both so evenly matched they could predict each other's moves with infuriating precision. Weaponless yet still deadly they grew wilder and more desperate with every moment until at last they stood together, face to face, each ones hands about the others throat, squeezing tightly and staring furiously into the others eyes.

The elf blinked as the ingrained dirt and battle stains seemed to melt away from the others face leaving him staring into a mirror image of his own. Shock released his fingers, leaving his opponent with the advantage which he appeared only too happy to grasp, yet the fingers held off from the last fatal squeeze to hold him at the edge of consciousness.

"You can not win."

The stranger rasped, his own voice roughened by the elf's previous hold upon his throat.

"You can never win."

Black spots were beginning to form before his eyes yet the elf's body felt somehow more sensitive than ever before, every exhalation the other took, tickled across his face in a most pleasurable way. He shivered as a warm, wet tongue suddenly snaked out to lick up the side of his face, sending a surge of uncontrolled heat through his veins.

"Just give in."

A jolt of pure pleasure shot through him as the stranger's hands suddenly slackened from his neck allowing a single gasp of air before tightening hold once more.

"Give in."

The whispered words dripped into his mind as darkness began to close in once more. His mind swam as he half felt himself lowered to the ground, before once again being allowed a gulp of air, all sense of time and place fled. His body tingled with heightened sensations. He could feel each blade of grass, each pebble and dead twig on the forest floor beneath him as he was pushed down and it was an agony of ecstasy.

"Give in."

Heated breath wafted across his face as the stranger straddled his hips then leaned forwards to whisper in his ear. Another jolt of pleasure rippled through his body, which jerked upwards involuntarily as he was allowed another gasp of air before the firm body atop him began to move slowly and sensuously against him, sliding his hips forward and back. All coherent thought fled as his own body responded to the dual stimuli of lack of air combined with friction and he spiraled upwards into euphoria. He knew not where he was, he felt his own body both beneath and above him, felt the urgent need to possess and be possessed. Knew his hands to be around his enemy's neck yet at the same time felt them around his own. Fire burned through his veins, the pressure within building until he was certain his body would explode unless it found release and his hips moved faster, back and forth, rubbing frantically over the hardening heat beneath him. He moaned and dipped down to taste the parted lips that quivered so beautifully as they urgently sought the air he had denied them.

"Give yourself up to me."

The words echoed around the elf's head and for a moment he could not tell if he had heard or uttered them before his mind suddenly caught up, pulling sensation and perspective together in a sudden rush of comprehension.

His body stilled as he stared up at the feral being pinning him down, taking in the complacent smile and lust filled eyes. The expression upon it was alien yet the face was all too familiar and one he had seen reflected back from mirrors since he had reached maturity. Frowning in confusion he shook his head as if to clear away the image but it remained, leering down upon him whilst he lay, pinned in place by his own fears beneath it.

"So." A voice, so alike to his own yet edged with a hardness he hoped his had never possessed. "The noble prince finally makes the connection."

A sneering chuckle followed the not so stranger's words accompanied by a suggestive grinding of hips.

"It took you long enough". He whispered into the elf's ear before nipping the pointed tip then following its edge with a sweep of his tongue. "Now, why don't you just be a good little elfling and let me take over." A further nip punctuated his words. "You'll find life so much more pleasurable that way."

The elf, no, Legolas, he reminded himself, he was Legolas, urged his body to remain limp and unresponsive whilst his mind began to race, seeking out answers to his strange situation. .

"Come little one."

Hot breath wafted over his ear as the stranger spoke again then trailed a chain of swift kisses down to his throat.

"Let me lead you back. He is waiting. Waiting just for you. He has something special for you. Give in to me and we will have our reward. Remember your master's lessons."

Broken images invaded Legolas' mind, himself in chains, in the dark, being whipped, beaten, cut, left alone, pain, pleasure. Round and round they went in a nightmare of repetition. He felt the bite of blade and leather, heard his own cries of pain and pleas for more. Smelled blood, musk and fear and saw death, over and over as he rent all before him limb from limb, enjoying every moment.

Bile rose in his throat and his stomach roiled at the memories as they swept him up into realization just as warm lips suddenly latched onto his neck and sucked whilst a heated body began to thrust against his own once more.

It was true. All those things, all those memories. His. With a surge of energy he did not know he still possessed he seized the writhing creature on top of him by the arms, heaved, and twisted, effectively breaking the hold upon his neck and flipping them over to reverse their positions. Looking down into the surprised face he suppressed the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. He could not give in to it now. He must stay strong or he would not get a second chance and he would be lost forever.

"Never." Quietly but forcefully the word rolled from his tongue. "I will allow none to ever take me there again."

Eyes clear as a summer's sky bored down into a pair as dark as pitch. "But I will keep you firm within my heart and mind lest I forget."

The figure beneath him wavered slightly and Legolas leaned down to press his lips to its pale brow.

"Come. It is time we went home." He breathed softly and watched as his reflection seemed to smile back up at him before gradually fading away leaving him seated on the forest floor alone amid a sea of white anemones.

A/N

I can not say how sorry I am to have kept you all waiting for so long for this chapter. It has not been an easy time for me lately and writing in particular has been very difficult. This story has not been an easy one to write at times and I have found I really need to be in the right frame of mind to continue it.

I can promise, however, that I will finish it. Even if it takes a while.

Thanks for being so patient. I only hope it makes sense as you read. Please let me know if it doesn't. Or however you feel about it. It's true when they say reviews feed the muse.

Thanks go to those who reviewed the last chapter. Although you may have forgotten by now :) - Sian22, bettsam0731 and sehellys.