Nightstar

Nightstar - Part V
Type: FPS
Author: Vairë (vaire@donnesys.com)
Rating: NC17
Pairing:
Haldir/OMC/Legolas
Disclaimer: I worship at the JRR altar. I make no claim to
any of the characters except Syshae. I make no money from this, so don’t bother
to sue – you’ll only get hairballs the cat hacked up.
Posting: Please ask first.
Feedback:
Much appreciated. I enjoy discussing the finer points of my stories with
others. All flames will be gleefully passed along to the dragons for their
fiery consumption.

 

 

Nightstar – Part V

Worriedly, Legolas turned in a circle and scanned the
surrounding desolation. The Brown Lands. A chill wind blew over him, sharp and sere.
He shivered and pulled his cloak tighter about his body. He had desired never
to endure the passage of the desolate region again, but he was undeniably happy
to be there. Happy—and very worried. The Sindon had accepted Syshae, even
Mithaelin, and agreed to leave their home. So Legolas found himself back in the
Brown Lands, headed west. He was happy to be returning to the lands he knew,
but deeply concerned about Syshae. The fea-healer still lent his own strength
to his people, time and again healing the insidious creeping darkness of spirit
that assailed them, but he grew weaker with each passing of Anor, less able to
heal his own despair and hopelessness. Slowly, the shadows were claiming his
fea. They would win in the end, Legolas knew, and Syshae’s fea would depart to
the Halls of Mandos unless they could reach Lorien—and Haldir—in time. He
begged Syshae to curtail his efforts, to expend less of himself, but the Sindon
refused. His guilt over his separation from his people in their need haunted
him, and he would dare any risk to himself to help them now.

Pallas, the elf Syshae first healed, had died when Ithil
rose, his fea slipping from his hroa to pass to the Halls. Now, Syshae was
missing. Iarmen caught Legolas’s eye and gestured to the south.

“My prince sought solitude for his grief over his
failure.”

“You belihe fhe failed?” Legolas couldn’t keep the
bitterness from his voice.

“He did not save Pallas.” Iarmen raised a hand when
Legolas made to interrupt. “But I do not believe he failed. My prince spends
his own fea to heal ours.”

“He spends too much! You ask too much of him, he —”

Again, Iarmen held up a cautionary hand, stilling
Legolas’s outburst. “Gives too much of himself. Yes. But he will not be
gainsaid. He is our prince. We have sworn allegiance to him and obey his will,
but in this we are lost, for his desire to save us shall take him from us. How
may we act? Many have begged him not to spend himself on them, as you know
well, but he is heedless, driven by his guilt.”

“Forgive me. I am tired, and grieved over Pallas’s death,
and worried for Syshae. I have no cause to rebuke you or any of your people.
I…” Legolas sighed deeply. “I fear for my melethron,” he finished quietly.

“Then go to him, pen-neth. He needs your strength. There
is more to the bond between you than lies revealed.”

Legolas shook his head sadly. “There is no bond between
us, except love and friendship. While these help, they are not what he needs,
not what he has with his bondmate.”

“Truly?” Iarmen turned and melted into the surrounding
ows ows before Legolas could demand to know what the ancient elf meant by his
cryptic question. Sighing, he strode into the darkness in the direction Iarmen
indicated Syshae had gone.

 

Syshae stood motionless, staring unseeingly into the
night. Despite the chill sharp wind that blew, his cloak hung loose, as if the
effort to pull it close around his body was too much. Legolas could see
exhaustion and despair in every line of his lover’s body. As he approached
closer, he could see tears, silver in Ithil’s light, trailing slowly down
Syshae’s face. Syshae seemed frailer, more vulnerable than ever before. He
seemed defeated—the hope and determion ion that had fueled him since their
arrival at the Sindon camp gone. There seemed to be nothing left in him.
Legolas knew Syshae was close to giving up. The darkness that crept into his
own fea as he healed others’ was winning, rising like a black cesspool to drown
him.

Legolas stepped forward and drew Syshae into his arms.
Syshae was passive, not reacting at all. Valar! What could he do? Iarmen was
right. Syshae refused all attempts to make him conserve some of his strength.
Legolas understood. The Sindon were Syshae’s people. He was their prince and
they were his responsibility. He was also a trained warrior and a healer.
Syshae couldn’t simply watch them fade. Not when there was anything he could do
to save them. Even if that something cost his own life.

An incredible feeling of tenderness flowed through
Legolas. He knew how much he loved the enigmatic Sindon, how every part of the
complex personality delighted him. There were so many enchanting sides to
Syshae. He was reminded of holding a jewel to the light and turning it,
watching in fascination as the many facets shimmered and sparkled. Truly, a
gift from the Valar. Legolas reached up and brushed the back of his hand across
Syshae’s cheek, a gesture at once loving and worshipful. A warm, tingling
sensation started in his hand and spread up his arm. It felt wonderful: alive,
soft, loving energy. He placed the open palm of his hand against Syshae’s cheek
and the feeling intensified.

With a sharp gasp, Syshae tensed and drew back, breaking
their contact. “Nay! Touch me not!”

“Syshae… what? I understand not.” Legolas moved to gather Syshae
into his arms again, but the Sindon shook his head and held up his hands in
denial.

“Nay, it…my gift…it cannot…”

Seeing Syshae’s distress, Legolas dropped his hands to his
side, genuinely puzzled. “Lirimaer? I wish only to comfort you. ’Tis little enough
to offer you, but it is all I have. Would that I could truly comfort you as I
wish. Is my touch now unwelcome?”

Syshae’s dark eyes were wide and staring, almost fearful.
His breathing was rapid. “Nay…ai…it…my gift…your desire…it…”

Concern rapidly mounting, Legolas sought once more to
gather Syshae into his arms, but the Sindon stepped back again, shaking his
head in vehement denial.

“Syshae? Why do you seek distance from me?” Legolas knew
his voice sounded like a hurt elfling’s, but he felt very much like one. Since
their abduction, they had depended on each other, grown closer than ever, and
as Syshae weakened, it had been Legolas he depended on. Why was he now pushing
Legolas away? The rejection hurt more than a wound from an orcish blade.

Syshae licked his lips. He seemed nervous, unsure. His
dark gaze locked on Legolas. “You felt it?” Puzzled, Legolas started to ask
what Syshae meant, but the Sindon continued. “As you touched me. You felt the
energy?”

“Ai, it was a wondrous feeling. ’Tis the love we bear each
other.”

“Nay, it…it is my gift. It seeks…” Syshae took a deep
breath. “It seeks to bind you to me.”

Disbelief flooded Legolas. He stared dumbfounded at
Syshae. Could he possibly be saying… “Syshae, do you say your gift seeks to
bind me to you as Haldir is? That it seeks to make me your bondmate?”

Mutely, Syshae nodded.

Joy replaced disbelief. Legolas resisted the urge to shout
his elation and dance with jubilation. Valar! How many times had he wished for
this very thing? There was no thought, no question on his part. Without
hesitation, he embraced the possibility. This was his own gift from the Valar.
He tried again to embrace Syshae, but the Sindon stepped away yet again,
shaking his head.

“Nay, I cannot allow you to do this.”

Frustration surged through Legolas. “You are fading,
melethron nin! Valar! Saes, do this not. Allow this bond between us that I
might heal you and lend you strength as Haldir does.”

“I greatly desire to do as you ask, lirimaer, but I know
not the outcome. Would my gift truly bind you to me as it did Haldir? What
would happen to my bond with him? Would this destroy both of us? I know not and
I dare not risk us both to discover the answer. My people—“

“Need you. You do not serve them by denying this. They
need your gift; they need their prince and the hope you bring—hope they have
almost lost. With every rising of Anor, you are weaker. You say my love lends
you strength, but it cannot heal you as Haldir does. Soon, you shall fade, and
who then shall be the hope of your people?”

Syshae’s eyes and voice were agonized. “Saes, lirimaer. I
know not what is right! I must save my people, yet I cannot for my strength
fails as their darkness overcomes me. Should I bind myself tu—anu—and my gift
allow it—you should save me and I have strength for them, but what of my bond
to Haldir? I know not what should happen to it. Should it injure him? That I
could not bear, for hurting him should surely slay me and yet, I must heal my
people. Also, I would not have you bind yourself to me solely to heal me.
Unless you truly desire this bond, desire me in this way, it is far too much to
ask. I fear, for every course seems open to failure. I have not the wisdom to
choose.”

“Then allow your gift to guide you. Did you not tell me
that it reads your desires and searches for another that shall be the answer?”
Syshae nodded. “Then do as it bids. Bind to me. Give me this gift. Long and
greatly have I desired this. I would be part of you and have you part of me,”
Legolas faltered, suddenly unsure as an unwelcome thought slithered through his
mind. “Unless…you do not desire this bond with me.”

“I much desire it, nin bain, but it is a great thing to
ask.”

“Then do not ask. I offer it freely. Nay, I beg it of you.
Deny this not to us.” Legolas took a step toward Syshae. When the Sindon didn’t
retreat, he took another. “Give me your bond, your soul. Join us together,
melethron.” Another step. Only a hand’s width separated them. Syshae’s dark
gaze was half-fearful and he trembled with exhaustion. Legolas realized that
the normally redoubtable warrior was in no shape, physically or mentally, to
make a decision—especially not one as vital as they now faced. “We shall bond
ourselves.”

Slowly, not wanting to startle Syshae ake ake him retreat,
Legolas reached out and released the clasp that held Syshae’s cloak in place,
then began to untie the laces of his tunic. “Skin to skin, ai? As when you
healed me?” At Syshae’s nod, he peeled the garment off, taking care not to
touch Syshae’s flesh. Careful not to break the gaze that seemed to hold Syshae
enthralled, Legolas unlaced his breeches and drew them slowly downward,
kneeling as he did so. Still looking upward, maintaining the gaze, he managed
to slip Syss sos soft boots from his feet and finish removing his leggings.

Silver light bathed Syshae’s pale skin. He gleamed like a
column of mithril. “Loose your hair,” Legolas instructed quietly.

Never taking his gaze from Legolas, Syshae obeyed, drawing
the heavy braid forward over his shoulder and unweaving it. Freed from its
confines, his hair fell about his body like a silk curtain, the strands
stirring in the wind that blew endlessly. They danced about Syshae, seeming to
caress his body.

“Lirimaer.”

A faint smile curved Syshae’s lips. “We stand in the most
desolate region of Middle Earth. I am worn, dirty, and—”

“You are the most wondrous, enticing creature I have ever
seen or imagined. Truly, you are a gift from the Valar.” It was the truth.
Legolas knew he looked on magic given form. The Nightstar. And he would be
bound to him forever. Legolas shivered in anticipation. To be part of this
mystical creature…

Skin to skin. Quickly, Legolas stripped, his garments
falling unheeded to the dead grass. He stood again. “Lirimaer, nin bain,
meleth-nin.” His arms slid around Syshae, pulling them together. Their bodies
touched. Four eyes closed. Two gasps escaped. Two bodies arched into the other.
Four hands stroked and caressed and explored.

It might have been their first time together, Legolas
thought. Everything was the same, yet different. Familiar comfort and
exhilarating anticipation. Something danced over Legolas’s skin, a thrumming
power that caused him to shiver even as he pushed closer to Syshae. He wanted
to crawl inside the Sindon’s skin, to share his body, know his mind and fea. Ravenously,
their lips devoured each other. Hands roamed ceaselessly, greedy to possess all
of the other’s body, to brand it with touch. Every sense heightened nigh
unbearably.

Emotions whirled through Legolas, too many and too swift
to discern them all. After a brief, failed attempt to retain some sense of
reality, he gave himself up to the emotions, letting them take him where they
would. He was inside his own body. He was inside Syshae’s, seeing himself
through the Sindon’s eyes. He was outside both their bodies, watching.

The discarnate awareness watched in awe as the two elves
lost themselves in their ecstasy. Midnight tresses tangled with molten gold.
White hands on white skin caressed and aroused. Bodies pressed together. Groins
ground against each other, rubbing hard erections together. Lips and tongues
devoured. They were primal, wild and glorious, part of Arda in a way no other
beings could ever be.

The awareness that was still in his body felt need like a
ravening hunger—harder and sharper than ever before. He wanted to be inside
Syshae, filling him, claiming him, thrusting into tight velvet heat. He longed
to feel Syshae inside him, marking him for eternity, owning him. Shudders
wracked him as wave after wave of need and desire crashed through him. He felt
tears slide down his cheeks. His knees gave out and he slid slowly to the
ground, drawing Syshae with him.

The part of Legolas inside Syshae knew the desire, the
love, the need the Sindon had for him. Some part of him threw back its head and
howled its satisfaction at knowing the depth of those feelings at last. Colors
and light danced behind tightly closed eyelids. Sound, touch, taste—he could no
longer separate them.

Intense. Too intense! Not enough! More! Frantically, he tried
to get closer to Syshae. Had to get closer. Had to join with him. Had to…
Thought no longer possible, he was reduced to pure feeling—a desperate, needy
being. It was exquisite. Higher and higher he spiraled on the emotional storm,
reveling in its untamed ferocity, until he reached a shattering climax and
darkness claimed him.

 

Warmth. Legolas snuggled closer to it. Syshae. He knew his
lover’s scent, had known it for centuries. He sighed blissfully. Never had he
felt so close to the other. Drifting, half-awake, he floated on sensation and
dreams. In his arms, Syshae moaned softly and shifted, seeking more contact.
“Lirimaer, nin bain.” Legolas gathered him close and murmured endearments.
Syshae. His lover. His…bondmate.

The events of the prior night rushed back to him and he
was suddenly fully awake. Pallas’s death. Syshae’s sorrow and despair. Their
words. The joining. Tentatively, he explored inside himself and found a shining
treasure, an unbreakable link to Syshae that he knew would endure even the end
of Arda. Unashamedly, he cried silent tears of joy. Valar! He had prayed foris, is, yearned for this, needed this with all his being. And now it was his.
Syshae was his—and he was Syshae’s. Tenderly, he brushed the tangled hair back
from Syshae’s face, tracing the delicate contours of cheekbones and jaw. Syshae
stirred, his eyelids fluttering open.

“Meleth-nin.”

Syshae smiled happily at Legolas then fingered the blanket
that covered them. His expression turned puzzled.

“I know not, lirimaer, but it appears we did not pass the
night alone.” It could only have been another elf, for no living thing other
than the Sindon were in the desolate wasteland. Still, it bothered him that he
and Syshae had been totally vulnerable. “When you bonded with Haldir, did this
happen—that you were both unconscious deeply enough that you did not sense
another’s approach?”

“We were unconscious, but not as deeply. There was some
awareness.” Syshae frowned. “Mayhap it is my weakness. I was whole at that
time, Haldir did not need to heal me as you did.”

“And are you healed?”

Laughing, Syshae rolled Legolas onto his back and
straddled him. “Ai, my bondmate. I am whole. You have given me your love and it
has healed the weariness.”

“But I do not feel… I am not tired, nor grieved. I have often
wondered how this works. You must take the other’s darkness into yourself to
heal their fea, yet when Haldir heals you he does not take the darkness into
himself.”

Syshae shrugged. “I know not, meleth-nin, only that it is
so.” He rubbed himself against Legolas. “We did not fully consummate this
bonding last night. I would do that now.” Legolas could see Syshae’s eyes heat
with desire and he felt his own body responding. Syshae’s hands roamed over
Legolas’s throat and chest. “I would take you, nin bain. I desire your
submission to me. I would have you writhing on me as your passion grows and you
beg for your release for your passion is a wonder to behold. I would share with
you this new bond. Shall you submit to me?”

Legolas shivered. He had not thought of the fact that
through their bond, he would feel Syshae’s pleasure as well as his own. It was
one of the things he had most envied about the bonding between Syshae and
Haldir. “Ai…Valar! Most eagerly—” He broke off as Syshae shifted backward until
he sat astride Legolas’s hips. He thrust slowly, their hardening cocks sliding
against each other. Hands still roamed over Legolas’s throat and chest and
shoulders.

“Sink the the bond, feel my desire for you.”

Unsure exactly how he was supposed to do that, Legolas
reached inside his awareness, concentrating on the treasure of their newly
created bond.

“Ai, nin bain, I shall take you most thoroughly.”

Hands calloused from years of handling weapons brushed his
nipples, the palms circling, barely touching, coaxing the dark flesh to hard
points.

“You shall beg for me, nin bain, and you shall scream your
pleasure when I take you.”

Syshae’s hands and words made concentrating difficult.
Legolas closed his eyes, imagining his awareness sinking down into his body,
down into the warmth that marked his bond. Warm, velvet darkness, like Syshae’s
hair when the sun warmed it. He imagined he was sinking into it like a dark
pool. Further and further down into the bond. Suddenly, emotions rushed over
him. He gasped, arching his body upward, hands gripping Syshae’s thighs. His
eyes flew open wide and he stared at Syshae incredulously.

Like the night before, there was the curious duality of
being in both his body and Syshae’s. He could feel Syshae’s hunger for him as
clearly as his own. Unlike the night before, he wasn’t overwhelmed with
emotions. It was a gentle rain compared to a raging storm, but the intensity of
it was just as exquisite. He saw the heated glitter of Syshae’s eyes and knew
the other was similarly affected. Through their bond, they were truly one. Even
his imagination had underestimated the ecstasy of the feeling.

“Ai, nin bain, we are one. ’Tis it not glorious?”

One hand left Legolas’s body. That small loss of contact
struck him and he whimpered in protest. He knew Syshae’s satisfaction and
enjoyment of the sound. Syshae scooted back, lifting and turning Legolas so
that they were both on their knees, Legolas in front of Syshae between his
spread thighs, back to front. Syshae’s erection slid between his legs and he moved
back, whimpering again.

Syshae chuckled. “So needy already, nin bain?” Hands
brushed his hair forward over his shoulders, baring Legolas’s back. A hand ran
the length of it, tracing the bumps of his spine, causing him to shiver. He
squirmed, wanting more contact between them. The new sensations brought on by
his bond with Syshae flooded him. His desire rose, rapidly spiraling toward the
point where he would lose control.

“Saes…” Legolas pleaded.

The nail of one finger trailed down his spine. He shivered
again. Valar! Syshae would drive him mad! He started to speak, to demand or
plead or whatever would make Syshae give him what he needed when a strong arm
wrapped around him, pulling him back against Syshae. Warm breath caressed his
ear.

“Do you burn, nin bain? Is your body on fire?”

A warm tongue traced the outline of his ear. The feeling
went straight to his groin. A hand reached between their bodies, oil-slicked
fingers running down the crevice between his tight cheeks, teasing.

“Ai, nin bain? What is your desire?”

Legolas was breathing hard, his hips wriggling desperately
as he tried to take Syshae’s fingers inside him. The addition of Syshae’s
emotions to his own was dizzying. Vaguely he registered the question. Why was
Syshae asking? He could feel Legolas’s emotions as clearly as Legolas felt
Syshae’s.

“Tell me, nin bain. Tell me your desire. I would hear the
words from your lips.” Fingers circle the opening to his body. More words
whispered against his ears, insistent. “Tell me nin bain, for I shall not go
further until I know your desire.”

“I…I…need…”

“Tell me,” Syshae demanded softly.

“Take me…saes…I burn…ride me…claim me…”

“Ah, nin bain, you shall have your desire.”

A finger entered him. Legolas gasped, pushing back against
the digit frantically. He needed more, so much more. Syshae set a maddeningly
slow pace, preparing his lover carefully, turning and stroking with his finger
until Legolas was whimpering continually.

The feel of Syshae’s rigid sex between his thighs, the probing
finger inside him brushing over his hidden pleasure spot continually, the flood
of desire from Syshae, all inundated Legolas. He moved to stroke his own
throbbing sex.

“Nay. Your pleasure shall come only from my touch.”

Legolas moaned in protest. He was so hard, his cock needed
to thrust against something, needed the friction that would grant him release.

“more…saes…more…”

Obligingly, Syshae added a second finger. Legolas knew he
was going mad. There was no way he would survive the sweet torment Syshae
subjected him to. By the time Syshae added a third finger, Legolas was
mindless, writhing needfully, mewling cries falling from his lips. Desire—both
his and Syshae’s—roared over him, threatening to drown him deep. He knew only
that he needed. Again, he tried to grasp his engorged cock, to bring himself
release. Stilling the movement of his fingers, Syshae imprisoned Legolas’s
wrist in a brutal grip. Legolas cried aloud, grinding his hips back against
Syshae, begging the Sindon to continue.

“Nay, nin bain. Your only pleasure shall come from me.”
Hot breath bathed Legolas’s ear as Syshae spoke. “You wish for more?”

Fresh waves of desire flooded Legolas, intense and nigh
overwhelming. Whimpering, he quit struggling to reach his own sex and nodded.
He wanted to beg Syshae to end the sweet torment and grant him release, but he
was no longer capable of forming the words. He slid his knees further apart and
leaned his chest forward, offering himself to Syshae in a silent plea.

“Aya! nin bain. Such passion, such beauty in your
submission, in your need.” Legolas eredered as Syshae’s free hand stroked over
the heated skin of back, buttocks, and thighs. Fingers moved in him
again—movement that lagged just a fraction behind Legolas’s own frantic
writhings, driving him further into madness.

Legolas wanted. He needed. He ached. His cock throbbed.
Painfully hard, it thumped against his abdomen the further forward he bent.
Desperate for release, he leaned further, wanting even that small touch of
flesh on his hard organ. He felt stickiness as warm fluid leaked from it. So
close, he was so close. A strong arm around his waist pulled him back up until
the contact was broken. Legolas cried aloud in protest.

“Only from me, nin bain.” Legolas tried again to protest,
shaking his head wildly, his golden hair flying about him. “From me, nin bain,”
Syshae insisted. Abruptly, Syshae pulled his fingers from within Legolas,
causing him to cry in protest again.

Legolas’s body shivered. It writhed. It pushed his
buttocks back against Syshae, begging to be taken. To be plundered and owned.
To be mastered. To belong. To surrender to his bondmate. He wailed his
frustration.

“Peace, nin bain.” Syshae’s black velvet voice soothed
him. “I shall give you what you need, what you desire.”

Whimpering, Legolas relaxed slightly, trusting the words
of his beloved. Syshae would care for him, would provide what he needed so
desperately. A hand gripped his hip and Legolas felt the heat and thickness of
Syshae’s engorged cock press against him. Mindlessly, he moaned, his hips
trying to thrust back and impale him on his lover’s hard length, but Syshae’s
grip prevented any movement. In frustration, he cried loudly.

“All shall hear you, nin bain, should you cry so loudly.”

Beyond caring, Legolas screamed his need and frustration,
the sound echoing across the barren land surrounding them. With one steady
thrust, Syshae entered Legolas and buried himself fully. Legolas’s scream
turned into a groan of contentment.

“Is that all you desire, my Sindar prince? To be filled?”
Syshae’s velvet voice teased softly. Frantically, Legolas shook his head,
golden hair whipping about. “Shall I claim you then? Make you mine? Shall I
spend myself inside you and fill you with my seed?”

Again, Legolas whimpered as waves of desire flowed through
him. Never had he imagined such overwhelming emotionld eld exist. He was
Legolas; he was Syshae. He knew his own desire and need; he felt Syshae’s. No
longer could he separate the two. Surrendering his last bit of will, he gave in
fully to the emotions crashing through him, to his body’s urgings. He thrust
his hips back, seeking to drive Syshae deeper into his body, even as he
screamed again, announcing his pleasure and release to all who could hear.

 

When next Legolas was aware, strong arms held him and a
soft voice murmured soothingly. Syshae. His beloved. His bondmate. A smile
curved his lips. The Valar were indeed bountiful in their gifts, for he had his
heart’s desire—almost.

“Nin bain?”

Legolas smiled at the endearment. “Ai, lirimaer?”

“You are now truly mine and I am yours. There can be no
secrets, no hidden truths between us. We are one being. Do you regret this,
this rending of your fea, this—”

Anger surged through Legolas. He pushed himself up. “Daro!
Enough! Think you that I would have given myself to this bond did I not wish
it? Doubt me not lirimaer. Ai, your beauty draws me as it has since I first saw
you and your eroticism is undeniable, but neither are why I desire you. I
desire Syshae. I desire the enigma that is you. My fea hungers for you. ’Tis
you I burn for. ’Tis you I need as much as I need life.”

Syshae smiled. “That is good for we are each other’s
life.”

They lay still for a few moments, content to simply bask
in the presence of each other. Tentatively, Legolas let his awareness center on
the bond between them. As extreme as the emotions had been before, they seemed
muted, more distant. He asked Syshae about the change.

“You shall learn to control the bond, so that the
intensity of emotions that you send to me and what you accept from me are
moderated depending on your desire.”

Legolas thought about that. He looked at Syshae
indignantly as understanding dawned. “You did that on purpose! You didn’t tell
me, and you held nothing back. You made everything as intense as you could!”

Syshae laughed softly and trailed a forefinger along
Legolas’s cheek and jaw. “Ai, and do not act indignant, nin bain, for did you
not have much pleasure of me? I wished for you to feel the full glory of our
bond. Are you truly upset?”

“I…well, no, not truly. It’s just…”

Syshae laughed again. “You forget that I know you well.
You like it not that it was not your decision. Still you would be the hunter.”

“Ai,” Legolas admitted ruefully. “But you and Haldir have
shown me many times that to submit can be most pleasurable, that to—” Eyes
opening wide, he stared uncertainly at Syshae. “Haldir, what will he say to
this bond?

A sigh and a shrug. Syshae stood and reached down to pull
Legolas to his feet. “I know not, nin bain. We must ask him. But come, we should
return and continue forward so that we may indeed ask him one day.”

 

Returning to the camp, they encountered Mithaelin standing
guard a short distance from them. Glancing down at the blanket they had found
covering them, Legolas smiled. Now he knew where it had come from. He knew also
that they had not been unguarded. He held the blanket up and looked inquiringly
at the female warrior.

“You were vulnerable and unguarded. I do no more than my
duty to guarantee my prince’s safety.”

“Is it only your duty?” Legolas inquired quietly.

Mithaelin directed her answer to Syshae. “Nay, I have seen
your struggle for our people, seen the cost to you. No one shall speak against
you in my hearing. Glad am I to see you healed.”

“Healed, what—”

She laughed softly, her gaze going from Syshae to Legolas
and back. “Your color, your bearing. You are healed my prince. As you have
healed our people. And glad am I to see it. Not only so that we not lose you,
but that you are wh The The Valar smile on us once more.” She directed a look
of pure steel at Legolas. “Why did you deny him this so long?”

At a loss, Legolas sputtered.

Syshae laughed, the sound joyous and rich. The other two
stared at him. He held up his hands placatingly. “Peace. I am well. Let us
return and continue on our way.” He turned in a slow circle, his dark eyes
drinking in the Brown Lands that stretched far beyond the sight of even elven
eyes. “I stand amid desolation, yet I am filled with hope reborn. We shall not
fail. Let us not tarry.”

#

Atop a slight rise, Haldir surveyed the Brown Lands that
stretched in unbroken desolation in all directions. Ten times Anor had risen
and set since they parted from the other guardians on the shore of Anduin. Ten
times Ithil had ridden the night sky. They had only lembas for food, for they
had seen nothing edible—animal or plant—in the empty reaches of dead grass.
Water skins were long depleted. They licked dew from the dead grasses in the
mornings, before the heat of Anor dried it, or drank from tiny brackish pools
hidden amidst the dead vegetation. It was barely enough, but still Haldir held
to his quest, and still Rumil and Orophin followed him.

Syshae was safe. Haldir could feel that through their
bond, although it did not lessen his concern for his bondmate. And Syshae drew
closer. Haldir could also feel that through their bond. It was that sense of
the other that led him. It guided him like a beacon, growing stronger as he
drew nearer Syshae. Soon, he would be close enough to fully sense Syshae—or as
much as Syshae chose to share with him. Normally, neither of them muted their
emotions in any way, and only once had Syshae completely closed his end of
their bond, but at times—in battle and some few other instances where emotions
could be an unwelcome distraction—they would mute them. It felt as if Syshae
was doing that now and it puzzled Haldir.

Legolas and Syshae had been captured, forced against their
will to traverse the very wilderness Haldir now trod. Why did he sense
contentment from Syshae? Why would his bondmate temper the emotions he shared?
Haldir had no answers. He shook himself from his reverie and scanned the land
eastward once more. He started to turn back to his brothers when a tiny
movement caught his eye. The first movement, other than their own, he had seen since
entering the wretched Brown Lands. He gestured Rumil and Orophin forward. The
three brothers stood still as graven images, their keen eyes locked onto the
minute dot on the eastern horizon that grew larger with agonizing slowness. At
length they made out a figure mounted on a horse. The distance was still too
great for even their eyesight to make out who—or even what—the figure was. The
distant figure stopped as if it had been spotted. What manner of being would
dare the Brown Lands? As if in answer, Haldir felt the bond within him stir,
calling him forward.

“Syshae.” Haldir wasn’t aware he had spoken aloud until
Orophin questioned him. “Ai, ’tis Syshae. He calls to me.”

“And Legolas?”

“There is only one rider,” Rumil answered Orophin. “I fear
’tis bad.”

“Nay. There are many questions to be answered, but none of
the answers is Legolas’s death. I have no sense of grief from Syshae.” Haldir
threw his cloak back over one shoulder. “Let us ask our questions of my
beloved.”

 

Resisting the urge to rush forward and take his lover in
his arms, to touch Syshae and reassure himself that it was not a mirage he saw
before him, but a live, breathing elf, Haldir came to a halt some ten feet
away. Syshae slid from the horse’s back—the same horse, Haldir noted, he had
departed Minas Tirith on—and stood waiting. Haldir’s eyes devoured his lover.
Syshae was unharmed and for that Haldir thanked the Valar. He was garbed in
dark gray and brown garments that were strange, although he still wore his
Lorien cloak and carried his own bow and knives. His long hair was pulled into
a single braid that hung over his left shoulder. Haldir swallowed hard. Syshae
was safe. Haldir’s relief was so great that he felt light headed. Suddenly, he
felt awkward and unsure of how to act. A none too gentle shove in his back
propelled him forward.

“Melethron nin.” Syshae molded against his body against
Haldir’s. “I have felt you drawing closer. I could no longer restrain myself
and rode to meet you and guide you back.”

“Guide us back? Lirimaer we feared you held prisoner. Your
captors—”

Syshae’s dark eyes sparkled with delight. “Have been
subdued and now follow their prince gladly.”

“Saes, lirimaer—”

Syshae stilled his words with a kiss. When Haldir
responded, Syshae drew back, eyes still sparkling with happiness.

“Lirimaer—”

“There is much to tell, but come, you are weary. We shall
return to camp and then we shall speak.”

“Camp?” Orophin spoke up for the first time. A camp in the
midst of the Brown Lands? Impossible.

“Ai, mellon, my people journey to Lorien.”

“Your people?” Haldir was more confused than he ever
remembered being.

Syshae sobered. “Ai, my people,” he replied quietly. “I am
not the only Sindon left in Middle Earth. Some remnant of my people survived.”

Three sets of eyes widened at Syshae’s announcement, but
shock held their owners silent.

Hesitantly, Syshae addresses Haldir. “You must also know
that I have bound myself to another.”

Haldir felt as if ice water flowed through his veins.
Another? Did Syshae no longer desire him? What of the centuries of love they
had shared? He had gone off and bound his soul to a strange elf and—

“Nay, Haldir of Lorien, my bondmate. ’Tis no stranger, but
Legolas who has long shared our love. Indeed there is much to speak of, but
know this: our bond is unchanged and shall remain unchanged beyond the end of
Arda.”

Searching inside himself, feeling his bond to Syshae, he
knew the truth of the prince’s words. Legolas. Yes, it was good. He knew the
love Syshae had for the Mirkwood elf. Indeed it was the same love he felt for
the blonde. He smiled. At the very least, this new bond would ensure that
Legolas never left them and that was something Haldir was happy to accept.

“Then lead us back, lirimaer, that we might greet your
people…and your new bondmate.”

 

 

*coronar - literally 'sun-round', a name given by the Elves
to a single year

*gwador – cousin

*Iarmen – name means ‘old way’, one who follows the old
ways

*lirimaer - lovely one

*mae govannon – well met

*pen-neth - young one

*nin bain - my beautiful one

*meleth-nin - my love

*Mithaelin – name means ‘grey lake’, reflecting beauty
muted by sadness

*saes - please