Persuasion

Persuasion

Chapter 3
Author: Frosty the Linebacker
Rated: NC-17
Codes: Elrond, Les, Hs, Haldir, Arwen, OC, NC, AU, Darkfic
Summary: Long ago, Sauron got ahold of the one ring. After a long war, and the subsequent falling of the Dark Lord, the Elves are all who live. They were not immune, though, to the darkness that spread during the long years of Sauron's reign. Instead of talking things out, they decide busting heads is the best solution to their differences. Can't argue with that!
Notes: Elvish translations are at the end of the story.


*

Ellaire frowned at the weight of the sword she held in her hand. Not that it was too heavy for her, but she was used to the feather-light bow that now laid upon the ground, against a large tree for safe-keeping. She had put it some ways away from where they practiced, afraid Haldir would accidentally step on it.

"I hope you do not intend to fight like this with the Imladris elves. They will kill you before you manage to pull the sword from your hilt."

She glared at tarcharchwarden across from her. This was not her idea of an interesting afternoon, but she knew Celeborn would be very angry if she did not practice. Not to mention Haldir, who, she was sure, would take every opportunity to remind her of how important it was.

"You have an acid tongue, Haldir. Stick it out so that I may remove it for you." She smiled then, a sarcastic kind of grin, and waited for his response.

He sighed and lowered the tip of his sword to the grass. "You are not taking this seriously."

She mimicked his action and raised her eyebrows. "And you are taking it too seriously! I will learn, but you need to stop pestering me."

He looked as though he was going to disagree, but after a moment his expression softened. "I apologize if I have been hard on you," he said quietly, "I only want you to be safe."

Blowing the hair out of her face with a puff of breath, she lowered her eyes and kicked at the ground. "I know."

Stepping closer, Haldir lowered his head to meet Ellaire's eyes. When she finally looked up, he smirked. "Promise me you will not allow yourself to get hurt."

"You know promises like that cannot be made." When he nodded faintly, she added, "I will try."

His blue eyes sparkled in humour. "Good," was his soft reply as he looked down upon her, his gaze locking on to hers. "Perhaps, when things are different, our friendship can grow into more than just sparring partners."

Ellaire felt herself flush slightly, and wasn't able to stop herself from looking away. "We will see," she replied, lifting the sword and staring at its shine, "For now, we should probably concentrate on the battle."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him nod and smile gently. As he walked back a few paces, she quietly chastised herself for being such a coward. It wasn't the first time Haldir had alluded to his feelings for her being more than just friendly, but each time Ellaire found herself too unsure to reply confidently.

Sighing heavily, she raised her sword and looked to her partner. His expression was not hurt or angry, and part of her became irritated at that. If she had been treated with such ambiguity, they way she unintentionally treated Haldir, she would at least be annoyed.

But he did not seem to be.

"Footwork is important," he said, stepping forward and touching his sword to hers, "When you wield a sword, it's important you always be moving."

Without warning, Haldir forced her sword away and made to lunge at Ellaire. She was quick, though, sidestepping and swinging her own weapon at the Marchwarden. The blade stopped an inch from his neck.

He looked not surprised, but proud. "Nicely done." She smiled and lowered the sword, and it was then he caught her by surprise. Turning swiftly, Haldir knocked his weapon into hers. Ellaire stepped back, deflecting several blows before he used the blunt edge of the sword to knock her off her feet. As she hit the ground, her sword fell from her grasp.

She looked up at Haldir as he pointed the sharp end of his sword at her chest. "You don't have to look so pleased," she said with a smirk.

"I am not pleased," he said, pulling away the sword and extending a hand, "I merely found it amusing."

She grunted as he helped her to her feet. His hand was very warm, but he let go immediately, not even noticing that she would've held on a little longer. "How much longer do we need to practice?"

Haldir looked up at the deep blue sky. The horizon was beginning to welcome the sun, painting the mountains a dusky orange. "Itl bel be dark soon. We shouldn't stay much longer."

A cool breeze swept Ellaire's hair back over her shoulders. The only times she got to see the mountains was when they took to practicing archery or hand-to-hand combat out here. The only other time she left Lorien was when there was a battle to be fought, and those times didn't leave her many moments of quiet reflection.

"Can we stay to watch the sunset?" Her eyes remained on the now-pink hues of the sky as she heard Haldir lean his sword against a tree.

"For a moment, I suppose," he said, sitting on the grass and leaning back against a large rock, "If you will sit with me."

Ellaire smiled down at him, deferring and lowering herself beside him. She knew he glanced at her as she sat watching the sunset, but she didn't look back. Instead, the young elf smiled and leaned her head down against his shoulder.

"It's a beautiful night," she said quietly, her eyes growing heavy with comfort, "I wish they were all like this."

Adjusting himself slightly, Haldir moved his arm and wrapped it around Ellaire. His hand rubbed her softly. "They may be soon. I have hope."

Taking a deep breath, she licked her lips and watched the bright globe lower. The warm evening and gentle scent of lilac softened her nerves and threatened to allow her to slip into darkness. When Haldir rested his head against hers, she couldn't help but close her eyes.

*

She had been having a very unusual dream. There was a journey upon horseback, she could recall, and more company than just Haldir. Oddly, though, she felt as though someone else was controlling her. It was frightening.

As Ellaire fluttered her eyes open, she became acutely aware of the pain. Groaning softly, she raised a hand to the back of her head. It was wet, she noticed, and when she brought it down the tips of her fingers were smeared with blood.

Narrowing her eyes, she looked up at her surroundings. No longer was she in the forest of Lorien, that was certain. Steel bars obstructed her view of the dark room, but she could easily tell that it was some sort of ancient dungeon. Ellaire tried to push herself to her feet, but her injury made her mind spin with dizzyness. Wincing and falling back to the floor, she then noticed the cell next to her.

A body lie upon the floor. Getting to her knees, she crawled to the bars and slid a hand through, pushing at Haldir's shoulder. He was breathing, but unconscious. His golden blonde hair bore the slight tinge of red as well. They must have hit them very hard.

Ellaire bit her lip, knowing without thinking that their captors were the elves of Imladris. She and Haldir must had fallen asleep, and been unaware of teh approaching elves. "Haldir," she whispered, shaking him again. He did not respond.

Rubbing her forehead and sitting back against the wall, she tried to reason why they had taken them. She could only guess, and what came to mind was not pleasant. Ellaire remembered suggesting to Haldir that they capture a couple of Imladris elves, and she recalled the reasons for that. Information. She knew how the elves in Lorien would gain that information, and was sure these people would do much the same.

Her eyes flickered to the steel manacles on the wall and the large wooden table in the centre of the room. This was a room made for torture. Wringing her hands, she looked at the Marchwarden. He was higher up than she, more privy to information from Galadriel. The Imladris elves would know that. Tension knotted her stomach as she thought about what they would do to him.

Taking a deep breath, knowing she had to find a way of escape, she dragged herself to her feet. Nausea threatened to cause her to pass out, but she closed her eyes and leaned against the bars, getting her bearings. Breathing deeply, she clenched the cold steel and waited for the dizzyness to pass.

Things became easier after a few moments. Swallowing hard, she opened her eyes and moved to the front of the cell. The bars were old and rusted, but very strong. Ellaire clenched her teeth as she tried desperately to force the door open, but it was no use. It was solid.

Backing away, she came to rest on a small wooden bench. Her head pounded with pain that would not lessen, even as she closed her eyes and massaged her temples. By now she had stopped bleeding, but when her fingers brushed the cut she winced.

Part of her held in nervous anticipation for the arrival of their captors. The longer they stayed away, the better, she knew, but she would worry. The sooner they came, the less she would have to wait in anxiety.

Just then, a beam of light shot down the dark hallway Ellaire could not see into, and entered the dim main room. She widened her eyes when the light disappeared and footsteps could be heard. Not many. Perhaps just one person.

A young elf turned the corner and advanced towards the cell. A small smile played at his lips when he saw she was awake. Ellaire sat up and looked him over, having not seen an Imladris elf up close in many years, except in battle. Those visions were always fleeting.

He crossed his arms as he looked down upon her in the cage. His hair was the colour of spun gold, similar to that of Haldir's. His dark eyes flickered in subtle interest.

Ellaire narrowed her eyes at his appearance. "Le tolo Mirkwood." The elves from that dark forest were even more rarely seen than those from Imladris.

"A le tolo i malthen eryn. Mae govannen o Imladris." He lowered his hands and clasped them behind his back, watching her intently.

He was utterly calm, and that bothered her. "Ai le no?"

"Nin eneth Legolas Greenleaf," he replied, "Lin?"

Her eyes grew hard as she stared up at him. "Ellaire Moriel. An thelman carle garmin?"

He smiled then, as his eyes shined with levity. "Garle istaned thelo."

"Albach innas no gwerian," she said through clenched teeth. Unconsciously, her hands balled into fists at her side as she tried desperately to show Legolas that she would not be intimidated.

"Darsen an no cenan, brennil o Lorien." He smiled softly, then turned his attention to the captive in the next cell. Ellaire watched him with wide, angry eyes as he looked down upon the sprawled form of Haldir. "An lin mae nan, im amdir e garinnas echui."

"The lady and lord of Lorien will not allow this," she growled angrily, standing and approaching the bars. Legolas eyed her softly. "They will come for us."

He came close to her, his eyes staring intensely down at hers. Ellaire hardened her expression when his gaze travelled down her body, then rose her her face again. "Of that I have no doubt. That is, however, not my concern." He leaned in and smiled. "Only you and the Marchwarden are my concern."

"Do what you will," she spat, "We will tell you nothing."

She wanted to falter under his steady and unblinking gaze, but forced herself to continue staring. "We will see," he said softly, his eyes flickering to the long table in the centre of the room. "I have ways of making words flow from the mouths of ladies."

His interest was keen. Ellaire blanched thinking about what he could do to her. Torture was one thing, but she didn't think she could live through what he seemed to be implying.

Keeping her eyes trained upon him, she stepped back and sat down upon the wooden bench. Curling her legs up, she wrapped her arms around them and said nothing, hoping he would just go away.

Legolas' gaze softened as he tilted his head. "Food will be delivered to you later. I suggest you inform your friend when he awakes that it would do him well to keep his strength up."

With a bow of his head, he turned on his heel and left down the hallway. Ellaire waited until the shaft of light appeared, then disappeared as the door to the outside world closed.

Licking her lips, her gaze travelled to Haldir. If he did not wake, she would be alone. "Haldir," she yelled, hitting the bars with her hand. Her eyes burned when he did not stir. Clenching the bars, she lowered her voice and rested her forehead on the cold steel. "Please wake up, Haldir. Please."

*

TBC

Elf-Talk:

Le tolo Mirkwood. - You come from Mirkwood.
A le tolo i malthen eryn. Mae govannen o Imladris. - And you come from the Golden Wood. Well met from Imladris.
Ai le no? - Who are you? (Who you be?)
Nin eneth Legolas Greenleaf. Lin? - My name is Legolas Greenleaf. Yours?
An thelman carle garmin? - For what purpose do you hold us?
Garle istaned thelo. - You have knowledge of the purpose.
Albach innas no gwerian. - Nothing will be betrayed (to betray).
Darsen an no cenan, brennil o Lorien. An lin mae nan, im amdir e garinnas echui. - This remains to be seen (to see), lady of Lorien. For your well-being (well to-be), I hope he awakens (he will have awakening).