The Lost
folder
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
2,009
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
2,009
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 16
The Lost
Chapter 16
Author: Frosty the Dairy Cow
Rated: NC-17
Codes: Elrond, Legolas, Aragorn, Haldir, Galadriel, OC, AU, N/C
Summary: After the defeat of Sauron, Elves and Men go to war. The reason, though, is not so clear. Contains real plot.
Notes: Elvish translations are at the end of each chapter.
Disclaimer: LOTR is not mine. Bleh.
A big THANK YOU for the reviews!
*
One day soon turned to one week. Anólindë had scarcely seen Aragorn since he kissed her in the garden, but she had not forgotten him. He haunted her mind in every waking minute. After days of thinking, she still did not know how she felt or how she should respond. Often she felt cowardly, avoiding him as she did. He didn't seek her out, though, giving her the space and time she requested. She was grateful for that.
Still, it was lonely.
Aragorn had been right about the other elves not being close friends of hers. She spoke with them, made sure they were comfortable and safe, but she did not stay to socialize. Anólindë preferred spending time alone, even when she craved the company. She didn't feel comfortable speaking with the elves about why she worried so.
On the eve of a week's time, she began to get nervous about her friends. Legolas and Haldir would have had time to go to Lothlorien and return, yet they still remained away. This night she stood in the courtyard of the King's Hall, periously close to Aragorn. She wred red why she ventured so close when she told herself she wanted to stay away. Her answer was satisfactory enough for her mind. The courtyard offered the best view of those who approached the White City.
She wasn't surprised, though, when company approached her. Nor could she say it was completely unwanted.
"Are you well, Lady Anólindë?" His voice was soft and rhythmic. It sent tingles up her spine.
She forced herself to look up at him. He looked happy to see her, but neither nervous about her response, nor upset that he had not seen her in days. "I am, thank you. And you?"
"I am well." Aragorn clasped his hands behind his back and looked out over the dark plain. The starry sky brightened the pathway to the mountains. "You're worried about your friends."
Following the King's gaze, she sighed. "I would have expected their return by now."
"I am sure they're fine," he replied, "We would have heard otherwise."
Anólindë nodded, but did not feel any better. "I can't help but worry. Without them, I am alone."
She felt his eyes on her as he spoke. "You are not alone."
Biting her lip, she turned her gaze to him. It was soft and unflinching, and she began to vividly remember the kiss they had shared. Her eyes roamed to his lips, then up to his own eyes. He seemed to know what she was thinking, placing a hand on her shoulder and brushing the hair back.
"Forgive my hesitation," she began as he tucked the hair behind her ear, "But this has all happened so quickly. Not two weeks ago we were sworn enemies, her here we are now, sharing intimacy. I have difficulty knowing what to think."
He smiled and lowered his hand. "I have always believed that the heart knows best."
"My heart...is as confused as my mind." Anólindë's shining eyes pleaded with his as she stepped closer. "I need to know, what is it you want of me? I need the truth."
Aragorn's expression turned grave. "I have given you the truth. My feelings are beyond my control. My heart wants what it wants."
"Your heart wants me?" When he nodded, she continued, "As what? A mistress? Something more? Something less?"
"More," he breathed. His eyes were intense as he stared down at her. "Infinitely more."
Anólindë could feel her throat clench. She tightened her fists against the prickling feeling beginning to affect her eyes. His voice carried such emotion, it tore her to pieces. "What would the others think?" she asked quietly, her voice strained. "What would your people think?"
"Does it matter?" His hand found her cheek, cupping it gently. "The only opinion I worry for is yours."
Her mind began reeling as she looked up at him. It was not beyond her to accept his proposal of a relationship. The realization frightened her horribly, for she was admitting something that could possibly endanger their chance at peace. It could help, though, she kept telling herself,il til the feelings in her chest threatened to overwhelm her. This wasn't about peace. The emotions she felt when looking in Aragorn's eyes were about something else.
"I..," she began, stopping abruptly when someone yelling from below caught her attention. She turned her gaze and inhaled sharply when a group of riders caught her eyes. Legolas. They had returned.
Aragorn had noticed, too, removing his hand and leaning over the stone wall. "They have brought others," he said, looking down as the guards of the city opened the doors.
She looked up at the King with wide eyes. Anólindë had been so close to speaking her feelings, but now that they had been interrupted she suddenly thought maybe it wasn't a good idea. He looked at her somewhat sadly, as though he knew they had missemethmething important.
"I should go meet them," she said, licking her suddenly dry lips.
He took a deep breath and stood up straight. "They will be lead up here. It won't be long."
Uncomfortable, Anólindë nodded and stepped away from the wall, heading towards the road to the lower levels. Her heart raced in suspense for Legolas and Haldir's arrival. She could hear the sharp hoofsteps of the horses as they rounded the city's passageways. Aragorn came to stand beside her, but when she looked up at him he did not meet her eyes. Averting her gaze, Anólindë frowned and crossed her arms.
Quickly, though, her worried thoughts were eclipsed by elation at her friends' return. Legolas and Haldir rode up to the fourth level, followed by at least three dozen others. Biting her lip, Anólindë took a moment to scan the crowd for Elrond. Part of her still wanted to make sure he was alright. She almost hoped he had come along, giving up his ring and taking up the reins of peace.
When Legolas dismounted his horse, though, and walked up to her with a solemn expression, she knew this was not the case.
"Anólindë," he said softly, and the smile on her face faded into a hardened expression. She knew what was coming. Haldir stood behind Legolas, his face as grave as it had been when they last spoke of Galadriel.
She set her jaw and nodded softly. "Elrond?" she said, expecting his next words. Even with the expectation, though, they cut into her like a knife.
"I'm sorry," he breathed, taking her hand, "His life had been taken by grief, before we arrived."
A wave of nausea swept over her as she felt suddenly sick. "Grief?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes, "How? Why?"
Legolas' blue eyes grew sorrowed, and she knew it to be true. He pulled her into an embrace as her defenses fell. "I know not, Anólindë. I'm sorry."
It was nearly a blur, all that was spoken and done. Legolas glanced at Aragorn before pulling Anólindë along, keeping an arm wrapped around her as they made their way to their rooms on the third level. Her emotions were a jumbled mess, relief at having her friends back, and horror at the fate of her former lover. There was too much to think and feel for her to even speak. Instead, Anólindë allowed herself to be taken by the hand by Legolas.
Right now, it was all she could do to keep herself walking.
*
TBC
Chapter 16
Author: Frosty the Dairy Cow
Rated: NC-17
Codes: Elrond, Legolas, Aragorn, Haldir, Galadriel, OC, AU, N/C
Summary: After the defeat of Sauron, Elves and Men go to war. The reason, though, is not so clear. Contains real plot.
Notes: Elvish translations are at the end of each chapter.
Disclaimer: LOTR is not mine. Bleh.
A big THANK YOU for the reviews!
*
One day soon turned to one week. Anólindë had scarcely seen Aragorn since he kissed her in the garden, but she had not forgotten him. He haunted her mind in every waking minute. After days of thinking, she still did not know how she felt or how she should respond. Often she felt cowardly, avoiding him as she did. He didn't seek her out, though, giving her the space and time she requested. She was grateful for that.
Still, it was lonely.
Aragorn had been right about the other elves not being close friends of hers. She spoke with them, made sure they were comfortable and safe, but she did not stay to socialize. Anólindë preferred spending time alone, even when she craved the company. She didn't feel comfortable speaking with the elves about why she worried so.
On the eve of a week's time, she began to get nervous about her friends. Legolas and Haldir would have had time to go to Lothlorien and return, yet they still remained away. This night she stood in the courtyard of the King's Hall, periously close to Aragorn. She wred red why she ventured so close when she told herself she wanted to stay away. Her answer was satisfactory enough for her mind. The courtyard offered the best view of those who approached the White City.
She wasn't surprised, though, when company approached her. Nor could she say it was completely unwanted.
"Are you well, Lady Anólindë?" His voice was soft and rhythmic. It sent tingles up her spine.
She forced herself to look up at him. He looked happy to see her, but neither nervous about her response, nor upset that he had not seen her in days. "I am, thank you. And you?"
"I am well." Aragorn clasped his hands behind his back and looked out over the dark plain. The starry sky brightened the pathway to the mountains. "You're worried about your friends."
Following the King's gaze, she sighed. "I would have expected their return by now."
"I am sure they're fine," he replied, "We would have heard otherwise."
Anólindë nodded, but did not feel any better. "I can't help but worry. Without them, I am alone."
She felt his eyes on her as he spoke. "You are not alone."
Biting her lip, she turned her gaze to him. It was soft and unflinching, and she began to vividly remember the kiss they had shared. Her eyes roamed to his lips, then up to his own eyes. He seemed to know what she was thinking, placing a hand on her shoulder and brushing the hair back.
"Forgive my hesitation," she began as he tucked the hair behind her ear, "But this has all happened so quickly. Not two weeks ago we were sworn enemies, her here we are now, sharing intimacy. I have difficulty knowing what to think."
He smiled and lowered his hand. "I have always believed that the heart knows best."
"My heart...is as confused as my mind." Anólindë's shining eyes pleaded with his as she stepped closer. "I need to know, what is it you want of me? I need the truth."
Aragorn's expression turned grave. "I have given you the truth. My feelings are beyond my control. My heart wants what it wants."
"Your heart wants me?" When he nodded, she continued, "As what? A mistress? Something more? Something less?"
"More," he breathed. His eyes were intense as he stared down at her. "Infinitely more."
Anólindë could feel her throat clench. She tightened her fists against the prickling feeling beginning to affect her eyes. His voice carried such emotion, it tore her to pieces. "What would the others think?" she asked quietly, her voice strained. "What would your people think?"
"Does it matter?" His hand found her cheek, cupping it gently. "The only opinion I worry for is yours."
Her mind began reeling as she looked up at him. It was not beyond her to accept his proposal of a relationship. The realization frightened her horribly, for she was admitting something that could possibly endanger their chance at peace. It could help, though, she kept telling herself,il til the feelings in her chest threatened to overwhelm her. This wasn't about peace. The emotions she felt when looking in Aragorn's eyes were about something else.
"I..," she began, stopping abruptly when someone yelling from below caught her attention. She turned her gaze and inhaled sharply when a group of riders caught her eyes. Legolas. They had returned.
Aragorn had noticed, too, removing his hand and leaning over the stone wall. "They have brought others," he said, looking down as the guards of the city opened the doors.
She looked up at the King with wide eyes. Anólindë had been so close to speaking her feelings, but now that they had been interrupted she suddenly thought maybe it wasn't a good idea. He looked at her somewhat sadly, as though he knew they had missemethmething important.
"I should go meet them," she said, licking her suddenly dry lips.
He took a deep breath and stood up straight. "They will be lead up here. It won't be long."
Uncomfortable, Anólindë nodded and stepped away from the wall, heading towards the road to the lower levels. Her heart raced in suspense for Legolas and Haldir's arrival. She could hear the sharp hoofsteps of the horses as they rounded the city's passageways. Aragorn came to stand beside her, but when she looked up at him he did not meet her eyes. Averting her gaze, Anólindë frowned and crossed her arms.
Quickly, though, her worried thoughts were eclipsed by elation at her friends' return. Legolas and Haldir rode up to the fourth level, followed by at least three dozen others. Biting her lip, Anólindë took a moment to scan the crowd for Elrond. Part of her still wanted to make sure he was alright. She almost hoped he had come along, giving up his ring and taking up the reins of peace.
When Legolas dismounted his horse, though, and walked up to her with a solemn expression, she knew this was not the case.
"Anólindë," he said softly, and the smile on her face faded into a hardened expression. She knew what was coming. Haldir stood behind Legolas, his face as grave as it had been when they last spoke of Galadriel.
She set her jaw and nodded softly. "Elrond?" she said, expecting his next words. Even with the expectation, though, they cut into her like a knife.
"I'm sorry," he breathed, taking her hand, "His life had been taken by grief, before we arrived."
A wave of nausea swept over her as she felt suddenly sick. "Grief?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes, "How? Why?"
Legolas' blue eyes grew sorrowed, and she knew it to be true. He pulled her into an embrace as her defenses fell. "I know not, Anólindë. I'm sorry."
It was nearly a blur, all that was spoken and done. Legolas glanced at Aragorn before pulling Anólindë along, keeping an arm wrapped around her as they made their way to their rooms on the third level. Her emotions were a jumbled mess, relief at having her friends back, and horror at the fate of her former lover. There was too much to think and feel for her to even speak. Instead, Anólindë allowed herself to be taken by the hand by Legolas.
Right now, it was all she could do to keep herself walking.
*
TBC