She

Three: Revealed


I am unable to think of anything but her.

It is only the thought of her which has sustained me through the long months I have spent away from everything and everyone I have ever known; only the knowledge of how proud she will be on my return which has encouraged me to face the dangers before me.

I cannot decide where or how I want to see her for the first time. As my horse carries me closer and closer to home, I run through various scenarios in my mind. 

I see her in our clearing, calling out to me as I ride past.

Or she waits until I am asleep again, and silently watches me for a moment before she rouses me.

Perhaps I will go to her, crawling into her bed and gently kissing her awake.  In each of my fantasies, what follows is exactly the same.

Our first kiss is slow as we savour the delicious moment of reunion. My hands roam over her body as I reacquaint myself with her gentle curves and velvet skin. She holds me tightly, her breasts crushed against my chest, and I can feel her longing for me in every caress. It is a long moment before she pulls away to smile into my eyes.

“Hello,” she whispers, and I can see the joy in her heart reflected in her gaze as she parts her lips invitingly and waits for me to claim them again.

I do so without hesitation and she welcomes my tongue into her mouth, stroking it with her own as I work to expose her breasts. She shivers slightly as the thin material falls away from her body, partly because the air is cool on her bare skin but mostly because of the delightful pressure of my touch, and then provokes the same reaction in me by freeing me from my own clothing without lifting her lips from mine.

When we are both naked, I reluctantly move away from her for a moment, and drink in the glorious sight before me. It is better than even my most vivid imaginings, for this time I am able to reach out and pull her closer; I no longer have to be content with only memories of the joy I felt as she writhed beneath me. She smiles at me, reading my thoughts perfectly, and then raises her lips to mine for yet another fiery kiss. All at once, we fall together in a tangle of arms and legs, revelling in the thought of a future which is once again ours.

She allows her fingers to explore every inch of me, tickling and stroking, effortlessly soothing the pain I have carried in my heart since I was forced to leave her. I have been ready for her ever since the first touch of her lips, and she grasps me firmly in her hand, her long fingers eliciting responses from my body that I did not realise I was capable of. I am forced to summon every ounce of self-control that I possess to prevent myself from dissolving immediately; as much as I yearn for relief, I also want to prolong this first moment of renewed coupling for as long as I can.

I allow myself to enjoy her attentions only until I feel mindless ecstasy rushing to claim me, then still her hand and lift it to my mouth. As I place a soft kiss first on each finger and then on her upturned palm she smiles at me, knowing exactly my intentions. I cup her breasts possessively, and begin to tease their rosy peaks with my thumbs as my lips trace a sensuous path across their gentle swell. She sighs happily as I capture one of the tight pink tips in my mouth, eager in my desire to taste the sweetness of her, and when I move my free hand down to caress the already swollen bud between her legs she throws her head back in wild abandon, moaning in earnest as I explore the slick folds waiting to receive me.

When she too nears the dizzy heights of love, she clutches my wrist to stop me and then pushes me onto my back. She positions herself over me carefully and I grab her hips to bring her down so that we may be joined once more. As soon as I am fully inside, she bends forward to kiss me again, and I rise quickly to meet her. She chuckles softly at my haste.

“Have you missed me?” she asks teasingly, deliberately evading my lips until I take her face in my hands and hold her still so that I may kiss her.

“Not in the slightest,” I reply with a smile just before our lips touch, then muffle her protests with a lingering kiss.

Suddenly all teasing is forgotten, and we move together, falling easily into the satisfying rhythm we have perfected in our time together. She grinds against me, her thrusts more and more urgent with each passing moment, and I reach up to hold her as conscious thought becomes impossible. I am aware only of the indescribable bliss that is rapidly approaching.

I drive into her again and again until I feel her tense around me, and then I dimly hear her crying out as I surrender to my own climax. I am overtaken by white-hot waves of pleasure which wash away any fears or doubts I have ever had, and my voice is hoarse as I tell her I do not care who she is; I will love her forever. She throws her arms around my neck and collapses against me, and as we fall back together she whispers her name in my ear, giving herself fully to me for all eternity.

At last, the mystery of love will be revealed.

I will marry her. We have already been apart too long, and where once snatched moments satisfied me, I have been changed by all that I have seen. Brief interludes are no longer enough; I want more. I want her with me at all times, by my side all day and in my bed all night. I want her to bear my children. I want her to be my wife. Most of all, I want to know her name.

My father will try to resist my wishes. It is acceptable for me to lust after a maid, and take as much as she is willing to offer, but to marry her? He will fight, but I will win. I will give up everything if that is what is required to have her. She is all that I want, and all that I need.

As this thought fills my head, I am shocked to notice for the first time the scars that Mirkwood bears, the evidence of the recent battles it has played host to, and my pace quickens further. I must get home. I must see her face, and hold her in my arms. The danger has come too close for comfort; how she must have worried as evil laid siege to our home, and I was not there to protect her.

My anxiety spurs me on until I reach our clearing. There, the reins slip from my hand, and my steed halts, suddenly unsure. I slide off his back and stand there, unable to comprehend the sight before me.

There is nothing left. Flames still burn in small pockets, but most of the trees have long since been destroyed. The ground around my feet is strewn with their broken, blackened limbs, and scattered amongst the debris I see the occasional flash of silver; elven blades abandoned by their owners. A dark cloud of smoke hangs in the air, making it difficult to breathe. Or perhaps it is fear that crushes my chest so painfully; fear of the events which occurred here, and fear of what I will find when at last I reach home.

I remount quickly and urge the animal to be off, for I have never been more desperate to leave the horror behind me. I am greatly relieved to see the Halls stands relatively unscathed as I ride towards them, and I move through the gates without stopping to speak to the bruised and battered guards who still faithfully wait by the entrance. I jump down from my horse and race across the uneven ground, leaving the elf who came to greet me trailing in my wake. I search each and every room of the Palace, calling out to alert all around to my return. I must find her, I must.

But when I do, I wish that I had not. At least, not like this.

I do not recognise her at first. Her hair has been pulled back from her pale face, and the eyes which have always regarded me with love and longing are closed. She lies silent and still in the bed, her body completely covered with a white sheet. A vicious weal on the neck I have kissed a thousand times is the only visible sign of the injuries she has suffered. But a small pile of garments are heaped by the side of the bed, waiting to be disposed of. It is her dress and her cloak; the clothes she was wearing when she stood at the Palace gates and waved me off, tears in her eyes but a smile on her lips. Although I try not to, I can see where her blood has dried and permanently stained the faded fabric, and it sickens me.

I hear a soft footfall behind me, and turn to see my mother there. She does not speak; she clasps me to her for a moment, pressing her cheek to mine, and then moves by me to check on her patient. I focus all my attention on the gentle rise and fall of her chest, for it is the only indication that she remains with us. With me.

 “She volunteered to take a message to one of the outer battlefields with a number of others,” my mother explains hoarsely, placing a soft hand on my shoulder in an attempt to ease my anguish, even though she does not fully understand why I am so affected. “They were attacked as they crossed a small clearing, and though they fought hard they had little chance. They were surrounded, with no means of escape. She is the only one who was still alive when help reached them; it is a miracle she has survived this long, so terrible are her injuries…they…they…” my mother lets her voice trail off. She does not want to continue. It makes no difference, because I can imagine well enough. Too well.

In my mind’s eye, I see them attack. The forest is once again filled with her cries; only this time they are not moans of ecstasy but screams of terror and of pain so horrific it hurts me to even imagine it. Her perfect flesh, spoiled in an instant by evil.

I nod, the lump in my throat making it impossible to speak. I’ll never kiss her lips again, nor feel her shiver beneath my touch. But right now, I cannot consider what this means. All I know is that my future, once so bright, is suddenly filled with nothing but endless darkness.

“What is her name?” I choke at last.

 As I speak, her eyes flicker open, and her gaze comes to rest briefly on my face. I see her eyes widen almost imperceptibly with recognition, and with great effort she summons a weak smile. I watch as she forces her lips to form soundless words. I love you.

I reach out blindly to clutch her hand. It is cool to my touch, and I can almost feel her life ebbing slowly away through her fingers. I remember the warmth of her body in my arms on our only night together, and I ache a little more. As I mouth the words back, because still I cannot find my voice, I understand. My heart lurches as I remember the day we said goodbye.

Until I draw my last breath, I will wait for you…

She has kept her promise to me, and now that I am home there is no reason for her to wait any longer. I know the truth of her fate, and how our story is to end.

I stoop to press my lips gently to her forehead, and hold her hand to my heart so that she may feel all the love for her that is contained within it. I am barely able to see through my tears as she exhales once more, and then her eyes close for the last time.

I will know her name.

I allow her hand to fall back down to her side, and am grateful that my mother’s voice is gentle as she carefully covers the face I will from now on see only in my dreams. Etched on my memory, it will not fade with the passing of the years. She will always be with me, and there can never, will never be another.

“Her name was Elleth.”