World on Fire

World on Fire

Chapter 2
Author: Frosty the Loose Cannon
Rated: NC-17
Codes: Elrond, Legolas, Haldir, Arwen, OC, NC, AU
Summary: After the destruction of the one ring, all the races of Middle-earth come together to rid the world of Sauron's remaining threats. The elves send one with the gift of foresight to Lord Elrond for guidance, but do they send her at a bad time? The races of Men and Elves gather in Rivendell to speak of the growing concern for the safety of the world. And Boromir lives in this universe.
Note: Elvish translations are at the end of the story.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm updating this one. Don't get too happy. I'm finding this one quite difficult to write. Y'know, I *know* more than just Beth and Rangerlady and several others are reading these - Damn y'all for not reviewing! Anyways, what I was going to say is that I'm sure you guys have a few ideas you might like to pass along to us (me AND Elven) since we tend to get blocked on occasion. Every writer needs new ideas! You know our email address - write to us! DOOOO ITTTT!

*

Arwen had taken Írimë through most of Rivendell, sharing with her the history of her growing up here. They had not met many elves along the way, which Írimë found slightly odd. She knew many lived here.

Every flower was in bloom and every fruit in season as they traveled through the gardens, heading back up to the stone buildings. Írimë had not asked why there was a meeting taking place, nor why Imladris seemed so empty. She did not want to press, especially after having been giving such a warm welcome.

As she sighed and inhaled the sweet scent of the air, Írimë turned her eyes on the stone statues heralding the elves that went before, those who gave their lives to save Arda from what would have befallen it. She had not been there when Sauron first tried to take control of Middle-earth, nor had she been in battle for the most recent fight for their freedom. She had been in Lorien, in her own battle. Her gift of foresight was becoming stronger, and at first she had not known what had cursed her. It was painful, seeing the death and evil occur before it actually had, and knowing she could do nothing to stop it. Slowly, though, Írimë's visions had lessened, as the war against Sauron drew to a close. There was less evil now, less to foresee. Staring up at the statues, she knew she had seen them before. Her gift was still strong.

"How far have you seen?" asked Arwen, noticing Írimë's distraction. Her dark eyes were comforting and inquisitive. She looked nothing like her grandmother.

Írimë continued walking past the statues. "Most of what I see comes in flashes. They are difficult to understand. Often, I am not sure what I am seeing, or when." She met Arwen's eyes and smiled. "I see good sometimes. Children, happiness, light. Most of it, though, is dark. There is much pain in the world. It will not cease." Her smiled faded and her eyes became distant. "I have seen the reality of a few of my visions. They come quickly."

Arwen bit her lip and nodded. "It bothers you, I can see. My father can teach you to distance your feelings from such visions. His foresight is often far-reaching, different from yours, but I am sure he will be able to help. The futures you see are but a possibility. They are not set in stone."

"I hope you are right," she said quietly, "Some of what I have seen, it scares me."

Touching her shoulder, Arwen smiled softly and led Írimë past the garden. They looked up when a group of people came into view. Haldir was among them.

"Írimë," he said, smiling, "I am sorry to have gone away. Has Lady Arwen shown you around Imladris?"

"She has," she replied, looking past him to the group still talking near the steps to the main hall. She frowned, noticing they were not all elves. "Why are there Men here?"

Haldir glanced back, then shared a look with Arwen. "There have been some concerns about the safety of Middle-earth. Lord Aragorn brought with him several guards, and Lord Eomer did as well." At Írimë's uneasy expression, he smiled and touched her face. "Do not worry. This is merely a meeting, nothing more."

"Worry?" she said, knitting her brows, "I do nothing but worry."

"Take a rest and come meet my husband," said Arwen as Haldir dropped his hand sadly, "I insist on seeing you happy while in my home."

Taking a deep breath, Írimë forced a smile and followed Arwen towards the group. She hated it when she talked with such despair, often not noticing till the reactions of the people around her told her she was doing so. In truth, she worried that any threat of evil in the world would cause her more pain. She saw much in her visions, faces of friends being murdered and places she loved being burned. Sometimes Írimë could not help but focus on such things. It was difficult distancing herself from such things, and she really wondered if Arwen's father would be able to help her.

"Írimë, this is Aragorn," said Arwen, greeting a tall, handsome man with a kiss. "Aragorn, this is Írimë of Lorien. She is the lady my father means to teach."

Aragorn's face was gentle as he smiled. Írimë nodded politely. "It is an honour to meet you, my Lord," she said, "Arwen has told me much about you, in our short time as friends."

"Good things, I hope," he laughed, placing a hand on the small of Arwen's back. Írimë noticed and smiled softly. She often wished for something so kind as that. "Have you met Lord Elrond yet?" When she shook her head, he continued, "He has gone with Legolas and Boromir for a short meeting. He has been looking forward to meeting you."

"And I him." Írimë glanced at Haldir as he joined their group. "It seems as if we came at a bad time, though."

"None of this is your concern, Írimë," replied the blonde elf, "You should just concentrate on why you're here."

She nodded, but frowned slighly. Haldir was a friend, but she did not like how he avoided talking to her of war and battles. He treated her almost as if she were a child. He did not realize that everything concerned her.

He touched her back and she, annoyed, crossed her arms and stepped away. "Do you have my bag?" she asked, turning to him, "I would hate to ruin a borrowed dress."

"It's not a worry, Írimë, you are free to wear anything in your closet."

"I put your bag in your room." Haldir looked to Arwen and smiled, "She worries too much about what others think."

Írimë's dark eyes glared at Haldir, but he seemed not to notice. "Politeness is a virtue," said Aragorn, brushing past his wife and pressing his hand to Írimë's shoulder, "You can never have enough virtue."

Biting back a grin, Írimë looked up at Aragorn as he took Arwen's hand. "I have matters to speak with to my wife," he said, "If you will excuse us, we will see you at dinner."

Írimë returned their polite bows and watched them walk away. Lord Aragorn seemed like a good man. It pleased her to know such people were still in this world. "Are you angry with me?" asked Haldir. Írimë turned her gaze to him, her expression irritated. "You are," he continued, smirking, "What have I done this time?"

Sighing, Írimë turned and started towards her room. He followed, as he often did. "You treat me like an innocent, Haldir," she said seriously, "I have told you before how much I dislike that."

He always smiled when she complained. It infuriated her. "I do not mean to offend you, you know that. I am only trying to protect you."

They crossed over the threshold that led from the outdoors to the muted hallway of the private rooms. "I don't need your protection," she said quietly, opening the door to her suite and stepping inside. Haldir made to follow, but she turned back, blocking his entrance. "I am nothildhild."

His blue eyes searched her face before settling on her hardened eyes. "No, you are not a child," he said, reaching for her hair, "You know I do not think of you as one."

Írimë bit the inside of her cheek to keep from growing too angry. "And you know what I think of you," she said quietly, gently pushing his hand from her face, "You're my friend."

A soft smile crossed his features as he nodded. "Indeed I am," he said, backing away from the door. "I will see you at dinner."

Sighing heavily, Írimë closed the door on Haldir's departing form. She leaned back against it, her body tired from their long travels. In truth, Haldir exhausted her. He was kind, and he was a friend, but he was persistent. Each encounter, such as the one that had just happened, wore her down just a little further. She thought back in shame at how she had cursed Haldir's name when Galadriel had chosen him to accompany her to Imladris. He did not deserve her irritation, no matter how much or how often he pressed her. He protected her well, and she was grateful for that.

Closing her eyes, she remembered seeing him angry with her. Very angry. Her stomach tensed in anxiety. Arwen had been right - not all her visions became reality. That didn't lessen her fear, though, that something terrible was going to happen between she and Haldir.

Pushing from the door, she headed to her bag sitting on the bed. Pulling out her clothes, she sorted them into the dresser and closet, then, pursing her lips, chose a lighter blue dress for the evening ahead. She honestly did not know what to expect at such a dinner. Evenings in Lorien were casual. Looking down at what she was wearing, though, made her think Imladris was slightly more formal.

After changing and looking out the window at the departing sun, Írimë decided to take a short walk on her own. She preferred being outside, and it had been some time since she was in nature alone. She missed her home.

Crossing over the archway, she entered the deep green gardens. The stars were clearly visible here, unlike in Lorien where they were often obscured by the trees. Taking a seat on a cool, stone bench, she leaned back and gazed upward. She could see it then, in the pitch black sky. Billowing smoke, dark as the soot and ash covering the plains. The mountains casting deep shadows over the land, burned to the dirt and littered with bodies. Írimë blinked and closed her eyes. "Ha on althenid," she whispered as the images faded into dark.

Steps along the worn path caused her to open her wet eyes and look for people approaching. Two figures were coming near. She could hear them speaking, but could not make out what they were saying. As they got closer, though, their talk ceased.

The moon illuminated them as they came into view. One was quite tall, with auburn hair. A man. otheother was quite recognizable as an elf. His long, blonde hair nearly glowed in the pale moonlight.

Írimë brushed her hair behind her ears and sat straighter. "Mae govannen," said the elf, nodding to her, "Nin eneth on Legolas. Sen on Boromir o Gondor," he motioned to the man on his left, "On lin eneth Írimë?"

Standing, Írimë nodded politely. "Ha on," she replied, knitting her brow, "Garo men govannen?" Often, Írimë would have trouble remembering if she had actually met someone, or if they had only been seen in a vision. Sometimes her visions were too blurred to be able to fully make out who the people were. This elf, though, seemed familiar.

"Law," he said, smiling softly. The man beside the elf pursed his lips and looked upward, seemingly more interested in the sky than the elvish conversation. "Brannon Elrond heltha-treneri men uin lin helthateli."

She smiled and bit her lip. Elrond has spoken of her often, to many people. She wondered if he did not expect her to be more than she was. "Mae, ha on maer an govadle, Les,"s," she said, than turned to Boromir, "A le mae, nin brannon."

The man of Gondor lowered his gaze to her and raised an eyebrow. His eyes were not amused. "E on alannthennath ned edhellen," said Legolas, smirking at Írimë's frown. He leaned closer, his eyes sparkling in the soft light, "Le innas garo an pedo i falathren o firiath ae le iest e an henio."

Írimë looked back up at the mortal. His arms were crossed and he looked completely annoyed at his companion's interest in this speech. "On e milui?" she asked, unsure.

Legolas laughed. Her eyes darted to Boromir. His expression told her that he knew he was being talked about. "E on...," he paused, narrowing his eyes at the human next to him. Boromir glared at the elf. "E on nin mellon."

The elf smiled at Írimë as she took a breath and decided to be polite. "My Lord Boromir," she said, and his eyes darted to hers, holding her gaze, "It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Írimë."

Uncrossing his arms, he pursed his lips and replied, "An honour, my lady," he said, then directed his eyes to Legolas, "If you are finished, we should be meeting the others."

"Of course," replied Legolas, "Are you attending the dinner as well, Írimë?"

"Yes." She looked down the path and frowned. "I nearly forgot."

Legolas stepped forward. "Allow us to escort you," he said, "Lord Elrond has been looking forward to meeting you."

"Thank you." Írimë smiled, but was suddenly nervous. She had heard much about Elrond and of his gift. She wondered if she would not be a disappointment to him, if he was expecting her gift to be like his.

"Is this your first visit to Imladris?" asked Legolas as they approached the Meeting Hall. His blue eyes were set intently upon her face.

"Yes," she said, smiling, "I have never left Lorien before this."

From the other side of Legolas, Boromir grunted. "I know not how one could stand living in that place. My first visit there would be my last, if it were up to me."

Írimë frowned at the Captain. "Did you have a bad experience there?"

His gray eyes looked her over. "No," he replied, chuckling, "I just do not like having my mind read."

Understanding, Írimë nodded. "Lady Galadriel," she said, "It is considered quite the honour to meet her, you know."

"An honour I could have done without." Boromir walked ahead of the elves as they ascended the stairs, glancing back at them as he opened the doors to the hall. "I will speak with you later, Legolas."

Legolas nodded as Boromir entered the hall, letting the door shut behind him. "He is actually not that offensive, once you get to know him," he said, smirking.

"I am sure," replied Írimë, walking into the brightly lit hall when Legolas held the door for her. "It does not bother me. There are few visitors to Lorien, man or otherwise. It remains peaceful that way."

They headed towards a table on the far side of the room where Aragorn and Arwen sat. "Mirkwood is like that as well," said Legolas, glancing at her, "The occasional visitor, though, is a welcome distraction."

She smiled to herself as she sat down across from Arwen, nodding her greetings to the couple. When she looked up, Haldir approached and sat down beside Aragorn, his eyes raking over the elf to Írimë's right. She pursed her lips and lowered her gaze. If he was going to become jealous of Legolas, someone she just met, she would have words for him by the end of the evening.

Quickly falling into easy conversation with Arwen, Írimë did not notice when another elf joined their table. Arwen glanced up and grinned. "Ada," she said, "Írimë, this is my father, Elrond. Father, this is Írimë. It is about time you met."

The dark-haired elf seated himself at the head of the table, beside Írimë. She smiled and nodded her greeting as he looked over her with strangely intense eyes. "Lord Elrond, thank you for your hospitality. I am grateful."

A smile came over his lips. "It is my pleasure," he said, nodding slightly, "I apologize for not coming to see you sooner. I hope Arwen took good care of you."

"She did." Haldir had told Írimë that Elrond was an elf of stature and wisdom, and she found herself feeling a little inadequate in his presence. The same feeling came over her when she spoke with Lady Galadriel.

"I have set aside time tomorrow for us to start on your training," he said, taking a sip of wine, "Come by my rooms at noon. I am sure you are anxious to begin."

She nodded and licked her lips as Elrond began talking with Arwen. Looking down at the table, Írimë momentarily considered backing out of this, running away from Rivendell like a frightened hobbit. Taking a deep breath, she chastised her behaviour and set her thoughts straight. She would have to do this.

"You are nervous," said Legolas quietly, noticing her distraction. He leaned towards her, his smile growing comforting. "There is no need to be. Lord Elrond will take good care of you."

Biting her lip, she looked up into his eyes. "Yes, so I've been told." She shook her head softly and sighed. "I am over-thinking this, I know. I must learn to relax. Haldir often tells me that." She looked up across the table at her friend, but averted her eyes when she saw him watching her and Legolas.

"Haldir is right. You are entitled to your fears, though." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Ae le gerin baur uin gwend, im amdir le innas athrabeth ahenni."

"I will, thank you," she said, blushing softly. She could deny Legolas was quite attractive, and she did often get the chance to interact with new people in Lorien. Perhaps this was a good thing, being in Imladris.

Taking a long drink of wine, Legolas gazed back down at Írimë. She liked his attentiveness, and he was very much that. "Would you care to take a walk with me, after dinner?" he asked, "It has been a long while since I have had the chance to spend time with a lovely woman."

"I would like that," she said quietly. As much as she enjoyed Legolas' attention, she knew Haldir was watching them, and that made her uncomfortable.

They continued an easy conversation for some time, drinking deeply from the never-empty wine goblets. By the end of the evening, Írimë was feeling quite pleasant and warm. Elrond had left some time ago, taking Aragorn along with him. As it was, only she, Legolas, Arwen and Haldir remained.

"It is late," said Arwen, sighing deeply, "I am going to bed. I will come by tomorrow, Írimë, to show you to my father's rooms."

"I will see you then," she said as Arwen rose. When they said their goodbyes, Írimë got up from the table herself.

Haldir was quick to do the same. "Would you like me to take you back to your rooms?" he asked, "You should get a good night's rest tonight."

Legolas stood up beside her and looked down, raising his eyebrows as if to question if she would prefer to go to sleep than walk with him. "No, thank you Haldir," she said, forcing a smile, "I promised Legolas a walk."

Her friend's dark eyes moved between them, but he relented. "As you wish," he said, taking leave of them.

"He has intentions for you," said Legolas when Haldir was gone, "It is obvious."

Crossing her arms, Írimë followed Legolas to the door. "I know," she said, "But I do not return his feelings."

Legolas smiled as they headed out into the dark night. The breeze chilled Írimë through her thin dress. "Part of me is pleased to hear that," he said, stopping and looking down on her with a serious expression. "We have only just met, Írimë, but I will not deny that I have interest in you." He raised a hand to her face and ran a finger along her soft hair. "I am normally not so forward with my feelings, but I feel we may share the same want."

Írimë's stomach clenched in excitement or anxiety, she could not tell which. Swallowing heavily, she opened her mouth to reply, but was not sure what to say. Blinking, she asked, "What want is that?"

Taking a step forward, Legolas brought his mouth to hers and kissed. His hand was warm against her cheek as she closed her eyes, tasting the salt of his lips. "This want," he breathed, breaking their touch, "Deny me if you wish, but I must ask. Will you accompany me to my rooms?"

Her lips tingled from his gentle touch, and Írimë found her body was screaming to go with him. Being so young, she had not yet taken a lover, and had often wondered if she ever would. The wars had been long and had taken many of those who would have been intended for her, and now with these visions, she spent too much time alone. She was interested in Legolas, and he was kind. As his warm breath eased over her, and his eyes searched her face, she wondered if it would really be so bad?

"No," she whispered in response, "I want you to come to my room, instead." Legolas smiled and took her hand, leading her past the garden to the hall where she was staying. She did not go to Legolas' room, for fear of running into Haldir.

She tensed momentarily before opening the door to her room. It was dark, the only light coming from the glowing moon outside the window. It cast shadows along the tables and bed. Írimë took a breath when Legolas brushed past her, touching her gently.

She brushed a hand across her abdomen as he removed his outer tunic. Írimë was nervous, more nervous than when she thought about working with Elrond the next day.

Legolas smiled as he approached her again. Running a finger along her jaw, he sighed and looked deep into her eyes. "Lin anlutha," he said softly, "I want to please you. If ever I am not, tell me to stop."

Írimë barely nodded before Legolas pressed his lips to hers, touching his tongue to her mouth, seeking entrance. She inhaled sharply when his tongue plunged against hers, melting into her heat.

He was suffocating in his need of her. Hungrily he bit at her mouth, parting only for short breaths, exploring the warmth of her. She moaned against him as she hit the wall, the force of his kiss pushing her back.

Legolas pulled back, running his hands down her neck and chest. "Nin melui," he said, his voice husky, "Teli an haust."

He took her hand and drew her away from the wall. His eyes were wide and bright as she laid back on the bed and exhaled deeply. She felt flushed at his gaze.

"On lin gweneth romru?" he asked, slowly untying the laces of her dress. When she nodded, he smiled, "Then I will go easy on you."

Watching her reactions, Legolas pulled apart the bindings of her dress and exposed her chest to the air. With a faint touch, he brushed his hands across her breasts, rubbing gentle sts acs across the sensitive skin. His eyes kept focus on hers, but soon Írimë closed her eyes and concentrated only on the feeling of him touching her. When he pinched her upraised flesh, she inhaled sharply.

His hands left her chest and went downward, his fingers deftly removing the skirt still covering her. She raised her hips up as he pullee dre dress down, and held her breath as he ran his hands up her legs as he leaned back down along her body.

"Im innas laug le," he said, resting his hand on her pelvis, "Trenarenni ir an on maer." She nodded and closed her eyes as Legolas trailed his fingers toward her flesh.

Írimë tensed as he stroked her softly, then pressed one finger into her body. She shifted at the insertion, but soon settled back as he rubbed her pleasurably.

He was gentle and pleasing, and Írimë unconsciously began to move against his hand. Blinking her eyes open, she saw him watching her with a content, but lustful smile. "On an maer?" he asked, stroking her rhythmically.

"Yes," she said, her breath catching in her throat. Her hands clenched at the bedsheets as she felt Legolas insert another finger into her receptive body, pressing deeper. Biting her lip, she couldn't help the moan that escaped her.

"You are ready for me," said Legolas as he withdrew his fingers. Írimë opened her eyes as he opened his pants and crawled over her, caging her to the bed with his arms, "Rinc ahenni, meleth."

Írimë arched back when Legolas parted her legs and pushed himself into her. He groaned heavily, but kept his eyes on hers as she whimpered in pain and pleasure. He lowered himself into her slowly, but it was still more intrusive than his fingers had been.

He rested against her until her eyes fluttered open. "Lin moe," he whispered weakly, kissing her gently. "Gelir?"

Nodding her head, Írimë rested her hands on his back and slowly rolled her hips. She could see Legolas' eyes blink unsteadily as she moved, getting used to the feeling of him inside her.

"Írimë," he breathed, lowering his face to her neck and sucking along her throat. She arched back as his hand drew down her hip. "Nin meleth."

Pulling back gently, Legolas began a steady, slow pace against her body. She gave voice to her moans, which spurred him on to increase their pleasure. The heat between their bodies grew, drawing moisture to their skin. Írimë tensed her legs against him as he thrust into her, placing kisses along her shoulder and jaw between each roll of his hips.

Írimë closed her eyes and dug her nails into his skin as Legolas' hand traveled to her breast. He massaged her curves and squeezed lightly, adding to her bliss.

"Ai, Legolas," she cried, hissing in a breath when his movements became more determined. He thrust roughly against her as her body swam with tension and pleasure. When she could no longer hold back, Írimë threw her head back and cried out, arching against his seeking hand.

He continued her pleasure by coming to his, jerking into her several more times before meeting it. He groaned heavily against her, burying his face in the crook of her neck and breathing deeply. His hot breath moistened her already flushed skin.

When Legolas raised his eyes up, they were hazy and satisfied. "Lin bain," he breathed, brushing her wet hair back from her face. "Was it good for you?"

"Very good," she said, grinning.

"Odh si," he said, drawing out of her and laying his warm body beside hers. He pulled her close and tucked her head under his chin. "Aur innas teli avorn."

He was so comfortable, so soft and warm, Írimë had no troubles falling directly to sleep.

*

TBC

Elf-Speak:
Ha on althenid. - It is not true.
Nin eneth on Legolas. Sen on Boromir o Gondor. On lin eneth Írimë? - My name is Legolas. This is Boromir of Gondor. Is your name Írimë?
Ha on. Garo men govannen? - It is. Have we (us) met?
Law. Brannon Elrond helthatreneri men uin lin helthateli. - No. Lord Elrond told (to tell) us of your coming (to come).
Mae, ha on maer an govadle, Legolas. A le mae, nin brannon. - Well, it is good to meet you, Legolas. And you as well, my lord.
E on alannthennath ned edhellen. Le innas garo an pedo i falathren o firiath ae le iest e an henio. - He is not versed in elvish. You will have to speak the language of mortals if you wish him (he) to understand.
On e milui? - Is he friendly?
E on...E on nin mellon. - He is...He is my friend.
Ada. - Father.
Ae le gerin baur uin gwend, im amdir le innas athrabeth ahenni. - If you have need of friendship, I hope you will converse with me.
Lin anlutha. - You're enchanting (to enchant).
Nin melui. Teli an haust. - My sweet. Come to bed.
On lin gweneth romru? - Is your virginity sound?
Im innas laug le. Trenarenni ir an on maer. - I will warm you. Tell me when it is good.
On an maer? - Is it good?
Rinc ahenni, meleth. - Move with me, love.
Lin moe. Gelir? - You're (wanted "so", but doesn't exist) soft. Happy?
Nin meleth. - My love.
Lin bain. - You're beautiful.
Odh si. Aur innas teli avorn. - Rest now. Morning will come fast.