The Fallen

Err...Winter's Heart...what's that? ;) Thanks for the reviews!!! You guys rock! Yes, a Dark Legolas is a very, very nice thing. ;)

*

Vana rubbed her shoulder, sitting on the cold floor where she had taken up residence since Boromir had fallen asleep. A glare full of ire aimed in his direction made her feel slightly better. Slightly. It was cold down here and hard. Sighing, she decided it was high time he awakened. It had been a few hours anyway. Getting up, she padded to where he was, facing the wall with his arm tucked beneath his head.

As she looked down upon his prone form she grinned, feeling a trifle ridiculous, but nonetheless resolved. There was a place right within the crook of his knees where she could sit, so she took to it and urged his legs closer to the wall. He stirred, but did not awaken. Vana rolled her eyes and leaned back, contemplating the situation. Of course she had been over it every hour for as long as she had been trapped here, but reflecting she wondered what was 500 more times? Biting her lip, she rested her arm on his thigh and noted to herself how warm she was now that she had moved.

Someone was by now looking for them, she was certof tof that, but against Legolas and his servants what could be done? Eldarion would be the primary target of any rescue, with she and Boromir second, as was proper, of course. But there had to be something that could be done from within. She sighed, not sure what that could be. She always came back with nothing. Overpowering could be a possibility with both she and Boromir here in the same cell, but even still that would leave a horde of orcs and dark servants to wade through.

The Steward groaned and tried to turn, only to roll into her. Vana frowned and shoved his legs back up, waking him. With half-lidded eyes Boromir sat up and looked for what was getting in his way. When he saw his eyes widened a little and he gripped her arm hard. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I was cold,” she explained hotly, daring him to deny her the comfort of warmth.

He did. Shoving her back, he hissed, “Get away from me you little minx. I let you rest and now you will do me the same courtesy.”

Vana frowned at him arossrossed her arms, remaining steadfast against him. “You can’t let me sit in this one little place?”

His reply was immediate and firm. “No!”

She narrowed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring his legs urging her on towards the edge. “You’re just being selfish,” she accused him, gripping the cot and shoving back against his legs as he nudged her roughly. Despite herself a smile spread across her features as she fought him. Neither heard the door open on the other side of the prison.

“Get off of me you little bitch,” he growled, causing her to break into laughter. She gave him a sidelong look through her fallen hair, daring him to not find anything amusing about this situation. He was definitely trying, that was certain, but lost himself and grinned. Taking a deep breath, he nudged her one last time, then laid back in defeat. “You are enough to drive a man into madness. If I had a flagon of wine I would drink. Valar!” He covered his eyes with his arm melodramatically and she gave his thigh a reassuring pat as she leaned back, catching her breath.

It was then she noticed the two forms fading into the waning light. One was unwelcome into her sight, the other brought her to her feet. “Lord Elrond!” She raced to the front of the cell. “My lord, what are you doing here?” Hope began to spring inside her, drowned out by the concern Elrond was trying to mask. Outwardly he would appear unconcerned, but she knew him well enough to see the worry in his eyes. She did not cite it.

“I am here to see about you. Prince Legolas claims you have been treated well. Is that true?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. His voice was sharp.

Vana steeled herself enough to nod, not wishing to betray weakness to her lord. Boromir was another matter. “Sure, if you consider starving and assorted abuse well treatment.” He was sitting by now, his hands perched on the cot as if at any moment he meant to stand. His eyes were dark, set upon the face of Legolas.

Elrond turned with a frown. “Starvation and abuse?”

With a shrug, Legolas gave a smirk. “They have all their limbs. Neither is in any danger of perishing immediately.”

Sighing in exasperation, the Lord of Rivendell turned back towards his bodyguard with gentle eyes. “Get them food, Legolas,” he ordered as if he were the one in charge. “There is no call for this.”

The Prince of Ithilien crossed his arms, glaring at Elrond’s turned face. “Perhaps you will join them as they are. Food is given to those in my good graces of which you are rapidly falling out of.”

“Am I?” Elrond mused, giving Legolas a pointed look. “Get them food. You know it is what you are going to do eventually anyway, for to let them die would be foolish. Cease your petty attempts at asserting yourself and heed to wisdom.” ehinehind her lord she saw their captor growing uncomfortable and very vexed, but he said nothing. Those smoldering depths moved from Elrond to her and his anger deepened. “Where is Eldarion?” she asked, addressing Lord Elrond. The pain that flitted across his expression made her sigh in sorrow.

He shook his head. “I have not seen him, but Legolas claims he will take me to his room next. Do not worry. Help is coming.”

“I feel such comfort,” Boromir remarked dryly, leaning against the wall with his eyes half closed. “You’ve done quite the job of rescuing us so far, after all.”

Vana felt her skin flush in anger at his words, but Elrond shook his head. “Enough ois!”is!” Legolas hissed, stepping close so he could speak into his ear. His eyes burned into the Lord of Rivendell, but Elrond stood unfazed. “You see they endure. Come before I place you in a cell beside theirs!”

Reaching for her hand curled around one of the bars, Elrond gave her a reassuring touch, saying, “Do not lose hope.” He bowed his head once, then turned, heading towards the exit without the leave of their host.

Vana watched after him, but the form of Legolas stepped before her field of vision. She looked up into his dark eyes just in time to be grabbed. His hand darted out, grasping her gown and he jerked her against the bars, getting into her face. “What were you doing when we walked in?” he asked unexpectedly.

She pulled away, but could not manage escape. “What business is it of yours?” she responded incredulously. “I wanted to sit down! Is that such a big deal?”

Legolas pulled her back towards him, reaching with his other hand to take a hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Take care what you do, Vana. I will know what you do in the dark when you think your deeds are secret. You belong to me.”

“Legolas!” Elrond yelled sharply, standing near the doorway. “Enough! She belongs to no one.”

The Prince of Mirkwood laughed at that, letting her go and pushing her back. “She belongs to me. I lay with her and by the ways of our people such means she is rightfully mine.”

Elrond took a few steps into the light, his eyes angry. “The ways of our people do not include what you speak of, I am certain. You have done a very wicked thing and none of our people would recognize it. You are getting nowhere by intimidating her. Come away from there at once.”

His breath a bit heavy, his jaw set, Legolas spared her one last hard glance, then turned, stalking past Elrond without a word. When the door shut, Vana leaned her head against the bars, embarrassed and sorrowful. Behind she could feel a presence coming closer and when his hand came down on her shoulder, she decided to vent her frustrations on him. Whirling around, she pushed him away and glared, spurning his comforts.

“Ungrateful little beast,” Boromir muttered, stepping away. “What are you so vexed with me about?”

“You do not speak to Lord Elrond in such a manner!” she returned hotly, using the first transgression he had done that came to mind. “He is worth more than that!”

For a second he stood there, his eyes wide in surprise, then he cocked his head. “”You’re not mad about that.”

Vana wrung her hands in frustration. “Oh yes I am! Why must you argue about every single thing?”

He shook his head, coming to stand before her, too close for comfort. “Because I’ll not indulge your childish tantrums.”

“Childish tantrums?” she hissed, balling her fists and going for his chest. “You son of a…”

Boromir gripped her wrists hard, keeping her from hitting him too freely, pushing forward even as she tried to shove him back. Tears of frustration and rage pooled in her eyes before she even recognized they were there and she fought hard against him, but he was too relaxed, too trained to allow her in. “Calm yourself,” he suggested coolly, drawing her into him instead of trying to push her away.

“Let go!” she demanded in return, turning her attention towards escape. “Let go of me!” Arms surrounded her firmly.

Forcing his hand to her forehead, the Steward brushed her hair back and breathed, “Not until you get a hold of yourself,” continuing to pet her as she stilled. His eyes seemed to look beyond her angry, tear-stained face into something else as he wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger. Vana felt her stomach flutter and her breath catch as he leaned forward without warning, pressing his mouth against hers. A spark of something other than rage opened up within her.

She allowed it, accepting as his tongue moved within easily, molding against hers in a soft search. It lasted only a moment and when it was over she found her rush of emotion had waned. “Let go of me,” she repeated softly, though she did nothing to take herself from his grasp.

He obeyed, releasing her from his embrace. His fingers slid through his hair as he retreated to the cot across the cell, sinking down with a self-mocking laugh. She gave him a questioning look, measuring him with her eyes, unable to put to voice the question on her mind. Boromir smirked and crossed his arms as if it didn’t matter. “Want to know what I dreamed?” he asked her.

“What?” she asked, not sure she truly wanted an answer. She moved towards him, taking a seat at his side, folding her arms before her as if it would protect her, but from what she did not know.

His eyes shielded his thoughts a little more closely than was usual. Boromir exhaled and swept their surroundings with his eyes. “I saw myself upon the Throne of Gondor, not as Steward, but as King. It gave me such pride, as if it completed some part of me I had not known was empty before now.”

Vana swallowed, watching him carefully, discerning what was on his mind by the expression he wore. “But that was not all, was it? You saw him.”

The Steward nodded. Of anyone she had never thought she could see him so rattled by something. “You…you came to me in such desire I could not resist. We were wild, making love in my bed, unstoppable like a storm. When it was done I saw him. He stood in the shadows watching us in the form of my brother. Such terrible evil twisted his features, showing me it was not Faramir but Sauron in his guise. I knew there was no escape, though all my being fought it.” Inhaling, he faced her with pale amusement in his eyes. “Does that bother you? What I dreamed of you?”

A blush tinted her cheeks as she thought of why she could find no fault in it. Feeling fidgety, she tucked her hair behind her ears and shook her head, answering low, “No.” For a bare moment she kept her eyes averted, then brought them up to his face. “Is that how you see me? Or would you prefer you had resisted?”

He was straightforward, unyielding in his gaze as he considered it. “I’ll say that I would have preferred resisting for what the seduction truly meant. It was not you I was with. I am wise enough to know that.”

“You’re evading,” she retorted with a small smile.

Boromir moved away from her as she reached to touch his arm. “You irritate me.”

“And if I came to you now, wild in desire?” Vana whispered, feeling spurred on to take this a step further, though where she wanted it to stop she did not know. She reached for him again, running her hand along his arm to his shoulder, touching his neck and smiling when he flinched at the ticklish touch.

Annoyed, he gripped her hand, glaring at her and she widened her eyes, breathing deeply as if startled. She saw want bloom in his stormy depths at that, and encouraged it to flourish by drawing his hand to her shoulder. His fingers dropped easily from her wrist, playing at the strap of her gown as he struggled. “What game are you playing with me, Elf? I warn you, I’ll not be toyed with.”

“You kissed me, remr?” r?” She eyed him softly, measuring his willpower against her charms. He seemed to be faltering. What it was about this moment she couldn’t quite understand, but she felt the need to drive it forward. Anything to fill the emptiness. “And who says I’m toying?”

Boromir’s eyes flashed in annoyance. He watched her carefully as he slowly drew the strap down her shoulder, waiting for her reaction. When she tensed he immediately noticed and stopped. “Tell me now how far you would have this go.”

Irritation at his tone coupled with her want compelled her to slide the other strap down, her smoldering eyes daring him to deny her. He followed the trail of fabric over her chest, his waisibisible when she draped it just halfway down her breasts. “How far do you think?” she whispered, biting her bottom lip as he inched the fabric down all the way. A flutter came across her abdomen.

“This isn’t a good idea,” he tried saying to convince her, himself, but it was not doing much good. He traced the rim of her down, bringing his fingers down her skin and to one breast where he ran the back of his fingers down the upraised center. “You will hate me when it is done.”

Arching into his touch, urging him on, she breathed, “I already hate you,” with a playful grin. At his petting she closed her eyes halfway, dropping her hands to his thighs and squeezing the hard muscle beneath his rough pants. She came dangerously high and he tensed with a small groan, glaring into her seductive expression. “I know full well what I’m doing, Steward. There is no reason to fear my wrath.”

His grunt was half-hearted and distracted. “I fear nothing of you,” he retorted, but was immersed in what his hands were doing to her. He molded them to each breast, squeezing gently and molding his palms along the sides, drawing his thumbs up and down her flesh. He stopped over the sensitive skin, pressinwarnward and watching her flutter of eyelashes. Pinching softly, Boromir exhaled a deep breath and said, “This is not the time, nor the place.”

“You’re right,” she said quickly with a smile, inching her gown back up. When he hit dit down she laughed at him. “You like what you see?”

The Steward pinched again, then massaged the whole of her full breasts. “I would be a fool and a liar if I said that I did not, Elf.” He lingered a moment on the task, then smoothed his hands beneath her arms, wrapping her into his embrace as he pressed his lips against her bare shoulder. He stopped at her ear, inhaling her scent. “But this isn’t the way I want it.”

Setting her jaw, Vana growled, “How do you want it, then?” expecting some animalistic human position.

Boromir pressed his mouth along her ear, tasting the point that marked her an Elf. “I want you in a bed, desiring me with all your fire, not an escape from the pain.” His hands smoothed along her back and for a moment she just sat there in his arms, stunned. His denial struck a chord in her that drew unwanted tears to her eyes that she tried to wipe away as discreetly as she could. But he picked up on her hurt quick enough, drawing her closer to his warmth. She felt foolish, angry and sorrowful, but he didn’t care. His hand traveled her neck, pressing until her cheek lay against his broad shoulder and she gave up, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he told her, caressing her skin gently. “I wish I could do more to protect you from him.”

“I know,” was all she could say, not trusting herself to reveal anything more than she already had. “I’m sorry for…this.”

His rumble of a laugh withis cis chest made her sigh softly. “Don’t be. I rather enjoyed it.” He leaned against the wall, allowing her to pillow her head along his chest, tangling his fingers into the dark folds of her hair. “If anyone can figure out how to get us out of this, it will be Elrond. I know that much, even if I don’t have your so-called Elven wisdom.”

“Yeah,” Vana agreed, knowing he was right. Elrond would find a way, be it by talking or stealth or force. She only hoped it was before Legolas grew too tired of waiting for someone to act on the kidnapping.

It was not an hour before a tray of food was sent to them. The meals were meager, but served well after having nothing at all for such a long time. The Prince of Mirkwood was dark, but Elrond’s command had prevailed. Vana took it as a sign of hope.

*

Some indeterminate amount of hours later she awakened alone. A fresh torch on the wall was the sign that someone had been here, but Boromir was curiously absent. There was no sign of where he might have been taken of course, how could there be? But it didn’t stop her from looking around the dungeon where they had been kept. The food trays were gone, the cups vanished and no trail could be found. After a look around Vana retreated to the back of the cell and sank back down on the cot where Boromir had left her. One strap of her gown fell down her arm and she quickly replaced it, frowning at the colorless floor. Where could he be?

She thought of last night with a measure of irritation and embarrassment. He had comforted her, true, but he had also turned her down and that bothered her on several different levels. He was a barbarian who should have taken advantage of her at the first opportunity, yet here Boromir had proven her wrong. He had kindly turned her affection away becausnd hnd he was right, it wasn’t a good idea at the time. He wanted more. More of what, though? She couldn’t fathom him wanting some simpering little wout out of this, nor would she give him that. That he would care whether or not she truly wanted him was strange and unexpected. She had been poised to dislike him for his boorish behavior, but he was challenging her preconceptions and Vana found it annoying.

Grunting, she crossed her arms and leaned against the cool wall, deciding that if his so-called right moment ever did arrive she would turn him down flat. If she could convince Elrond to just leave him here, so much the better. Biting her bottom lip, she conceded inwardly that such thinking was selfish and cold, but she was in a selfish and cold mood. It was not as if she had much to be polite about, given the circumstances.

A door on the far side of the chamber jarred open and she sat up, looking for him to walk through. When dark eyes sought her out she felt chilled and alone. Legolas came from beyond, wiping his hands on a towel as he approached. “You are awake. This will make it easier, though I had looked forward to watching your repose.”

“Where is Boromir?” she asked, ignoring his blatant attempt at trying to frighten her.

Legolas smiled and held the towel up for her to look at. It dangled in his grasp, dark in the wan light, but she could see the blood clearly. A gasp came from her unbidden, but she covered it with a glare. The Enortnorted and let the sullied cloth flutter to the floor. “I grow tired of waiting for the answers I want, Vana. I understand that you cannot be broken easily, truly, but my patience is running thin.”

She shook her head, glancing again at the cloth. She cared nothing for his faltering patience. “Have you killed him?”

He grinned at her question as if unwilling to give it an answer. “Boromir said things I found troubling. Oh, he did not openly confess of any feelings, but a man knows what another man is thinking when it comes to females. The beast is unworthy of you, Vana.”

Drawing herself up from the cot, she stalked towards the front of the cell, but not close enough that he could grab for her. Her eyes glittering in the flames, she breathed angrily, “He is more worthy of me than you are, raug.” (demon).

A dark laugh issued from his lips as he reached towards his belt. She looked down, watching his fingers clasp a set of keys at his waist. “You will wish you had not said that,” he replied, wearing an expression that seemed to promise just that. His midnight blue eyes fixed upon her face, hands curling around the bars of the cell door. “You will wish you had not said a great many things.”

There would be no getting out of whatever it was he had planned. Vana backed away, but did not fight violently just yet when he grasped her arms. He pulled her close, eyes half-lidded and devouring everyce oce of fear she allowed to cross her features—which was not much. Meeting him eye to eye she whispered, “Where is Lord Elrond?”

His forehead came against hers, rubbing gently as if they were lovers. He laughed at her question, hands smoothing along her back. “Do not think you can distract me.”

“I don’t,” she retorted coldly.

The prince continued to touch her. “Elrond is well. He is with his grandson.”

That gave her a measure of relief, knowing Eldarion hadeoneeone he trusted to care for him, to lead him away from the temptation of the dreams. Assuming Elrond knew of them. She needed to speak with him, to warn him of the possibility. Trying to squirm out of the hold of her captor, Vana asked, “Will you let me see him?”

Legolas pet her hair, smoothing it behind her ear, then tracing it. He looked contrite, but answered favorably. “I would be willing to allow it.”

Her heart sank as she thought of what he might be insinuating. That she would not give him, no matter what he offered. “For a price?”

His thumbs ran along her jaw as he brought her face to his, pressing his mouth against hers. She tensed when his tongue traced along her lips softly. “Always for a price,” he breathed into her mouth, then plunged forward for more. “All I want is a kiss.”

A chill spread over her as her pride began to overtake her senses, but she did not deny him immediately though her heart called for it. In truth his offer startled her. She had expected something more easily turned away. “A kiss?” she repeated, drawing away from his insistence. “You’re already robbing me of that as we speak.”

“No, Vana,” he laughed lightly, brushing a palm down her gown, caressing her breast over the flimsy fabric. It filled her with fury, but she counseled herself to remain still. “Meleth, I want you to kiss me. I want you to willfully press your mouth into mine and pleasure me with your tongue. Give me that and I will give you your wish.” He laughed. “Pretend I am Boromir if you like.”

A strangled feeling caught her throat as she considered it. She wanted to draw her fist back and willfully press it into his mouth, but to speak to Elrond he asked such a small thing. It made her suspicious of his motives. What would so simple a thing give him? “Why do you ask for this?” she asked as he hovered near, waiting to claim his prize.

Legolas neared her mouth again, pressing a kiss along her cheek. “Why do you fear it? I swear by my master I will make no other demand.” His hand slid along her hip gently, rhythmically. “I am not asking for sex, nor information. Just give to me a kiss and you will see Elrond. Is it worth that paltry price?”

It would not go beyond that. If he so wished it, she would kiss him to speak to Elrond. It was nothing. But if he asked for anything else, tried to trick her or anything worse, she would not allow it. Standing back from him she looked into those fiery eyes and saw him measuring her gently as his fingers slipped within the strands of her hair. Disgust filled every breath as she leaned forward, slowly at first, building her tolerance to this terrible act. His dark lashes drifted down, touching his cheek and for a moment in that face she saw a sliver of the innocence he had let go of.

Taking a deep breath, Vana stood a little higher and braced herself with hands on his shoulders. He fell forward with the pull, into her mouth as she moved towards him, startling her and winning a yelp. Legolas pawed at her arms, drawing her closer as she traced past his lips, pressing her tongue against his. He tasted of bitter wine and salty tears. Waiting, holding her to him and breathing hard against her, the black Elf moaned into her kiss and she feared then she had spurred him on too far. She pushed her hands to his shoulders and parted from him, exhaling when he failed to let her go. “I gave you your wish,” she reminded him, looking into his hungry expression.

“So you did,” he agreed breathlessly, squeezing her arms and then allowing her to step back. He smiled at her little submission, a secret smile that promised there would be more if he could help it. Gathering his hands together within the folds of his sleeves, Legolas nodded once and stalked pasted her towards the exit, expecting her to follow without incident. The temptation struck her a few times as she padded after him, to hit him and run away, but it would be useless. He knew it as well as she, else he would not allow her to walk so freely.

They came up into the dark hallways and she closed her eyes halfway when morning’s light streaming through a window at their left overcame her senses a little. It was bright and harsh compared to the darkness she had dwelt in these past few days. Troubled by it, shrnedrned away from it and noticed Legolas watching her through soft eyes. “My apologies, love. I forgot the discomfort you would find up here.” He smoothed her hair from her face and then took her hand. “You may close your eyes. I will lead you.”

She tried to dislodge his grip, but he held firm. Despite that she did not walk with her eyes closed, spurning his offer blatantly. He laughed and together they ascended the familiar path until at last he had her at an unfamiliar door. Her eyes moved down to the torn, filthy gown that her lord would be seeing her in. It would not matter in his eyes, but even still a blush came to her cheeks. Legolas noticed, but said nothing, taking a key and opening the door.

He entered and she followed, moving ahead of him to greet Elrond. But as soon as she halted in the center of the large sitting room she noticed that there was no one else there. “Lord Elrond?” she called, wondering if perhaps he were in the bedroom tending Eldarion. Behind her the door closed and a click announced Legolas had locked it. She turned with a furious expression, noting how amused he appeared. “You lied!”

The smile dropped from his features as he stalked towards her. “I did not lie, love. You will see Elrond when we are through. I swear to it.” He looked her up and down. “Will you go before your lord so shamefully clothed?”

“I would go so clothed before I would allow you to watch me change!” she hissed, backing away.

Legolas shook his head and followed her as she continued on, hitting a wall. Brows knit and dark eyes angry, he slammed his hands against the wall on either side of her, caging her there. “You will allow nothing, Vana. You are mine and act upon the mercy of my patience.”

“You said all I had to do was kiss you,” she returned low, tightening her fists in hate and frustration. He was beyond reason, beyond mercy. Talking would be as though she were trying to convince a mountain to throw itself in the ocean.

His gaze was fierce as he growled, “And I meant it. Yove eve earned seeing him, do not fear. Your kiss was a payment for your price. This, this is something I will take.” Darting his hands out, he grasped her arms and forced her from the wall, shoving her on towards the bedroom, hissing, “Move!”

It was a struggle from here to there, but he got her into the bedroom and shoved her to the floor. He locked that door as well, then turned on her as she got up. He pointed to a nearby chair where she saw a dress the color of a crimson sunset, fine and revealing. She turned back with a glare and shook her head in defiance. “I’ll not be your doll that you can dress to please your whims.”

“I have had enough of your disobedience,” he said low, coming towards her with folded hands. When they came apart she braced herself. His slap sent her back, twisting and falling to her knees. He came up behind her and gripped the fabric of her gown, ripping it down the center of the back even as she fought him. When it was free of her skin he yanked it away, then tossed it into a corner. Hands wrapped around her arms, dragging her up and forcing her to face him. Vana crossed her arms over her breasts and pulled back, but he held her firm. “Would you go to him naked, my lover?”

Panting after her exertions, Vana lashed out, sending her hand into his face, watching as his golden hair stirred with the backlash of his reaction. “I would see you dead at my feet!” she replied, knowing it did not matter what she did. He would claim her as long as he was able to do so. Drawing her hand back she hit again, gasping when he caught her wrist. His eyes were dangerous andk ask as he turned his head back towards her. Immediately she jerked backwards, whimpering as he squeezed her wrist tightly. Her fingers began to feel cold as he backed her into a desk nearby.

Once there Legolas pulled open a drawer, removing a long knife from the confines of the wood. He pushed the blade against her throat, digging it into her skin light enough to cause alarm. She stopped fighting him, stopped moving all together. “Now you see what I will do if you persist in defiance. A whore can be replaced. You must ask yourself how valuable your life is to you.” Seeing her still, his eyes became a little gentler, but he maintained a steel warning of what would happen if she kept fighting. The dagger remained against her skin, stinging in contrast to the soft fondle below as his fingers closed in around her flesh, pinching the sensitive skin on her breast. Lost in exploration, he whispered, “Very good,” stroking her flesh to a blush.

Daring to defy him she pushed his hand away, not violently, but enough to remove his touch from her. “If I am to remain here my life will not be very valuable at all.” She brought her dark eyes to his, measuring the evil intent there.

The black Elf nodded slowly and drew the blade up her throat, caressing her jaw with it as he explored her eyes now instead of her body. “You exaggerate the terror of your situation,” he said softly, nicking her cheek. As her lashes fluttered in tiontion to the sudden sting he laughed lightly. “Would it truly be so bad to lay back and enjoy as I take you?”

“I don’t love you,” Vana countered roughly, her frustration rising. “I don’t desire you. I despise the very breath you take.”

“But you throw yourself at a mortal you despise?” he asked sharply in return, gripping her wrists. Legolas watched her squirm with interest. “I know what you wanted, what you tried to get from him.” His mouth rested against her ear. “The dark gift gives me sight, you see. It allowed me to see your shameless actions.”

Trying to free herself, she turned her head this way and that to avoid his oncoming kiss, growling, “He is more worthy of desire than you.”

He only smiled at her attempts to insult him, snaking a hand through her hair and drawing her closer. His mouth plunged into hers forcefully, nipping at her lips until she opened her mouth to him. She tried to pull back away as his ue pue pressed trs irs in a hot search, but it was inescapable. She felt him reach behind her, pushing things off the surface of the desk behind her and her abdomen fluttered in anxiety. “Avo achas erthad vin, meleth. Lasto na i-fuin rhoss eneth lin.”
(Do not fear our union, love. Listen to the darkness whisper your name.)

In his voice she could perceive such terrible hunger. A part of her wanted to give in, to lay back and close her eyes while he took what he wanted from her. There was nothing she could do to stop him in the end. He smiled at her, wrapping his arms around her waist, lifting her up to the desk, sitting her so her legs draped off the edge. His hand slipped in between her legs, rubbing warmly at her inner thighs. “It becomes easier with time. I see the beginnings already. Submit and you will know pleasure unlike you have ever imagined.” As he moved his hand upwards, smoothing his fingers into her warmth, his other arm draped over her the back of her neck, pulling her into another kiss. Vana put her hands to his shoulders and shoved, whimpering as his hard suck robbed her of her breath.

“I will make you forget him,” he promised, laying little kisses all over her neck and shoulders, even as his touch became more insistent below. His fingers won passage into her, thrusting sharp and fast, winning a startled moan from her. The anxiety in her abdomen turned into a flutter of sensation. “Elgeriathich i vor a esti nin melethron.”
(You will worship the night and call me lover – masculine version.)

“Law,” she groaned, gripping his wrist and pushing, trying in vain to rid herself of his touch. “Deri, Legolas. Deri si.”
(No. Stop, Legolas. Stop now.)

His fingers teased her softly, moving in and out at a tender pace as his dark eyes devoured her sight. He watched and waited upon every reaction, looking pleased as she squirmed. Desperate, Vana tried to block him by squeezing her thighs together, but it did not hold him back. Legolas took great enjoyment as he smoothed her wetness and used it to ease his caress. “U-dherithon, meleth.”
(I will not stop, love.)

The dull aching began to intensify as quiet minutes passed between them. She could not force him away, nor make him listen to reason. Attempting to back away from him ended in his free arm snaking along her waist, holding her captive to his touching. He was unrelenting, unmerciful in his drive to make his point. “Deri,” she murmured as the feeling inside began to overtake her senses. She found her eyes fluttering shut, her hand grasping for support along the desk. Vana curled her fingers along the edge and found herself tensing as a wave of pleasure thrilled through her. “Deri,” she whispered again, but it didn’t matter.

“You are mine, Vana,” he whispered along her lips as he pressed in for another kiss. He drew his fingers almost completely from her warmth, slowly teasing the pliant flesh, then thrusting them forward sharply. The Rivendell archer broke free of his kiss, throwing her head back in pleasure. She bit her bottom lip, swallowing a moan as the assault became overwhelming. The wave started slow as his caress slowed, spreading through her until she shuddered in his arms, bliss taking over her senses.

Legolas smiled softly at her submission and brought her close, moving his hand towards her breast in a gentle stroke as she shivered. Vana hid her eyes from his, leaning against his dark robes, clutching the soft fabric as she fought for composure. As she regained her senses the horror of it began to sink in. Her abdomen tensed and her grip on his clothing tightened with a vicious temptation to rip it, anything to display her burning anger. All she could muster energy for was a harsh whisper of, “I hate you.”

The Prince of Mirkwood laid a kiss on her head, hands petting through her dark hair as if he could comfort her. “You may hate me, meleth. You may wish for my death. You may even try to bring it about, but there will always remain one fact between us. You are mine.”

Vana shoved back from him with cold eyes, watching him as he watched her. His expression was unreadable, but cool and certain. “You may have my flesh, but never anything else!”

His condescending grin infuriated her and she lashed out, trying to hit him. One caught him in the cheek and that was enough. Legolas grabbed hold of her wrists roughly and jerked her near, facing her down in an intimidating gesture. “I have your flesh and I will rend your heart from you as well, crushing it if you will never give it freely! But you are right about one thing. Your soul is not mine. It belongs to him!” She knew exactly whom he meant.

“No!” she yelled out as he struggled with her, putting his hands to her shoulder. Before she knew it she was stomach down on the desk. Pressing her hands to the surface, she fought to crawl across the desk in escape, kicking him as she pressed forward. Legolas growled low and gripped her ankle, jerking her back towards him. He threw her legs down over the edge and took a hold of her hips, pulling her towards him until her feet landed on the floor. She knew what he was going to do. It was time for his pleasure.

Her hips ached where his bruising hands held her still. Vana straightened herself and tried desperately to turn towards him to avoid this. Angered, he let go of her hip and slammed his hand down onto her back, both knocking her down too the wooden surface and knocking the wind out of her. Stars overtook her vision momentarily as she gasped for breath. He held her down hard, opening his pants and kicking her legs apart. Before she could recover from the fall he forced himself inside her without care for her comfort. Though readied by his molesting of her before, the entry was still sharp and very painful. Her kneuckluckled and a cry escaped her lips.

“I’m afraid not, my love,” he hissed, wrapping his other arm around her, smoothing beneath her and jerking her by her waist back up. “You disappoint me. For such a gift as I gaou aou a moment ago you are displaying no gratitude. I promise you, Vana, you will endure me through all I would have you endure. And long shall be my enjoyment this evening.”

Keeping her lifted, Legolas pulled back, then rolled forward hard, his fingers curling against her flesh. Her stomach pressed against the desk uncomfortably and she shivered as he moved back to do it again. He was rough, intent on his own pleasure now, intent on making her suffer for her struggles. There was no escaping this. In pain, Vana laid her head on the desk and closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the wood to brace herself through these terrible sensations.

He shoved hard and she whimpered, trying to hold in her pain, but in the end her voice was won with his hard rolling jerks. “Ai, my love, does it hurt so?” He forced himself into her again, moving his hand to her shoulder to pull her back into his momentum. “Mmm, tell me of your pain again.” His arm around her waist yanked hard and she nearly did cry out, but bit her tongue as he continued the rape violently, trying to make her whimper. He succeeded a few times, each filling her with a deep sense of loathing for him.

There was no rest from this. He was relentless, pulling her back only to remove himself and do it again without a moment’s pause. His deep, pleasured groans filled her ears no matter how hard she tried to tune him ouHis His hand slid along her sweat-moistened back gently as he whispered harshly, “What would Boromir speak to you if he were the one fucking you?” His question made her set her jaw. He was trying to make her think of Boromir, but to what end? To cause her unwanted pleasure? To mar her thoughts of him?

“He would not say the shameful things you say,” she whispered raggedly, trying to block out the pain. The burning made her feel dizzy and sick with how sharp it was.

Legolas only laughed, a dark, uncaring s as as he slowed down. Leaning over her body, he brushed her hair from her face and said low, “Ah, but would he not whisper things to pleasure himself? I have known Boromir longer than you, love. I perceive him to be a sharp-tongued man.” Vana shook her head and tried to push herself up, only to be shoved down again. “You’re backsliding, melethril.”
(Lover – feminine.)

She found herself unable to say anything, anyway. ssinssing her arms before her, she pillowed her head down and endured, just as he had said she would. His pace was demanding, but coming to a close. She could feel less of an intensity towards causing pain and more of an erratic drive to prolong whatever he was feeling. The storm of his pleasure hit him hard and he groa fal falling to her back. She felt his cheek rest along her flesh, his hands resting on either side of her. For a long time they remained that way, both exhausted.

When he finally spoke she inhaled deeply, wishing she could just block it out. “I have such a violent heart now. It didn’t used to be that way.” Not knowing what to say to that other than a bitter remark that would likely get her beaten or worse, Vana kept her mouth closed. His mournful speaking continued. “I would rather not be rough with you, you know.” He sighed, running his hand up her bare side, then on up to caress her shoulder. “I still have it in me to want for your pleasure.”

“I don’t want you to cause me pure,ure,” she retorted hotly, trying to ignore the gentle massage he was giving her. She looked across the room with half-lidded eyes as he continued rubbing. A headache she had not noticed before now drew her attention.

“So you like the pain,” he assumed, kneading her tense muscles, his tone thoughtful as if he were some sort of lover instead of the monster that he was.

Vana grit her teeth and shook her shoulders to deter his touch. “I like being left alone!”

Legolas reshis his hands on the desk and leaned over her, coming close to her face. He darted his tongue along her ear and whispered softly, “You like no such thing. Oh, perhaps you hate me for what I do to you, but I see inside your dreams. Within your breast beats a heart filled with hunger. The aching to be taken cannot be assuaged, taking you from the arms of Elves to seeking those of Men.”

Drawing herself up, she nudged him back, but he remained ever so near. “Boromir is more Elf than you’ll ever be now! And that’s truly saying something, given Boromir’s behavior!”

Leaning his forehead against her back, nuzzling gently, Legolas laughed at that, then straightened himself. Pulling from her roughly, he did up his pants and fixed his dark robes back into place. As Vana stood she saw him pushing his hair back into place, his expression now calm and sated rather than lustful. He watched her a moment with some hidden thought written behind his midnight eyes. Whatever it was, he did not speak it, instead pointing to a chair nearby where a dress of scarlet had been laid. “Get dressed,” he ordered her.

Covering herself as she stalked to the chair, she made a point of ignoring him. The fabric was fine, of human make and cut to be revealing. The thought of wearing it repulsed her, but it was better than being unclothed, so she put it on and drew the neckline up as far as she could to obscure the cleavage Legolas seemed to want her to show. He appeared amused by the gesture as he motioned her towards the exit.

They entered the halls and Vana straightened her hair as best she could, trying to appear as unmolested as she could before going to Elrond. Ahead of her the Prince of Mirkwood stalked at a quick pace without turning back until they reached a doorway up a flight of stairs. He fished for his keys, then opened the door, motioning her on before him. When she entered she saw Elrond iiateiately, sitting at a table with a cup of tea. He looked up with concerned eyes, then shifted them towards Legolas, allowing a visage of distaste mixed with pity to show. “Are you well, Vana?” he addressed her, still glaring at the Prince of Mirkwood.

Drawing away from the accursed Elf, she nodded and said, “I am well, my Lord. Have you been treated well?”

“Well enough,” was his answer. She sighed as she sank down on the couch near his chair. He turned to her, taking in her appearance with gentle eyes. “Have you eaten?”

Vana nodded and glanced at Legolas, noting his irritated and impatient expression. She had hoped he would leave, but she could not let that deter her from speaking her mind. “My lord, how is Eldarion?” she asked with a certain amount of concern. By the flicker in his gray eyes it seemed Elrond caught that she had a particular thought in mind.

“He is well. Asleep now in the bedroom.” He nodded towards a closed door nearby. Taking up a pitcher, pouring himself more tea, he held it up in offering.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she accepted. “Yes, please.” Her eyes fell upon a set of cups on a table near him. She moved to get herself one only to be stopped as he got up to get it. His kindness was troubling, for she knew while he was always benevolent rds rds those that served him, he was careful now because he knew of her pain. It made her want to hide. Such feelings were beneath her, she insisted to herself, knowing that only in strength would be recovery. She would push herself to step into the light even when her heart would see her in darkness. So she continued on for the greater good. “My lord, I have a concern about the prince.”

Returning and handing her the cup, he raised an eyebrow, then shook his head. “He is fine,” he told her with a certain tone she had been trained to pick up on. He did not want this to be discussed in front of Legolas.

Averting her gaze and appearing dismissed, she said softly, “Yes, my lord.”

Their imposing captor exhaled sharply, his arms crossed and his features bearing the evidence of his impatience. “Is this all you came to discuss?”

Raising an eyebrow, Elrond looked to Legolas with a frown. “Was there something in particular you wanted us to discuss?” Agitated, Legolas crossed his arms and grunted, not saying a word. Vana fought the inner urge to throw her hot tea into his face. The Lord of Rivendell took a sip of his tea and sighed. “I don’t suppose you have the heart to arrange for some bread?”

The Prince of Mirkwood’s angry expression tempted laughter from Vana’s lips, but she held it back. He kicked at the chair Elrond sat in, which had no effect on the Elf Lord, and hissed, “I am not your servant!” Flustered,olasolas turned and stalked from the room and slammed the door shut.

“He’s very irritable,” she remarked, taking a drink of her tea. It tasted weak compared to the brews of Rivendell.

Elrond shook his head. “For all Sauron has done to him, he is still very uncertain. He had not counted on my coming. Somewhere inside he still respects me as a leader and his darker nature rebels.”

Biting her bottom lip, Vana debated a moment over a question she was not sure she wanted to ask. Over her cup as she sipped she noticed Elrond watching her, so she decided to come out with it. “My lord, is there any chance for him? Any at all?”

The Lord of Rivendell looked at the door as if he could still see whom they were speaking of. His eyes did not appear very hopeful. “He has gone far in the darkness, I am afraid. Alas, I do not see much hope for the son of Thranduil. That troubles me more than I can let him see.”

The sadness in his eyes alerted her to the more heart-rending threat upon Eldarion. Sitting forward, Vana shook her head earnestly and said, “Lord Elrond, I mustak oak on Eldarion’s behalf.”

Now appearing more willing to hear her out, he nodded her on. “Please, speak your mind.”

“My lord, Boromir and I have been having…dreams. Have you noticed anything odd about Eldarion’s rest?” she asked, not wanting to just jump into it.

Elrond appeared thoughtful, casting a glance at the bedroom door. “Yes, I have noticed his sleep is very sound. He murmurs, but I cannot rouse him easily. What is the nature of your dreams?”

She felt her pulse rise at the mention of it. She could not reveal what she had dreamed of Boromir to her lord, but he had to know the point of the visions. “Sauron, he has come to both of us when we sleep. Each dream is a seduction. He shows us things we desire or fear and in the end we are drawn further into his nets. My lord, if Eldarion has been having these same dreams, I fear he could be poisoned against Aragorn.”

His gray eyes very grave, Elrond thought about it and looked again at the door to where his grandson slept. “I will have to speak with him. He has said nothing to me of that, of hardly anything at all. Up until now I summed it up as his exposure to Legolas. The Valar know what the black-Elf might have said to him during all this time.” He turned his face to Vana. “Have you seen my grandson at all during your imprisonment.”

Vana shook her head. “No. Legolas kept us apart until I angered him. Then he saw fit to put me in the dungeon with Boromir, but he would say nothing of where the prince was or what he had done.”

They shared a moment of silence as Elrond pondered the implications of this mess. Her thoughts consumed her with questions after their talk. She wondered not only about Eldarion, but about herself and Boromir. Not sure how to broach the subject without saying it blatantly, she bit her lip and looked at her lord for a moment until he noticed. He raised his eyebrow in question. “My lord…”

“You may always speak your mind with me, Vana,” he assured her gently.

A blush rose to her cheeks unbidden. “I suppose I…myself am concerned over the effects of these dreams. He…he bid me do things I would not normally do…and I did them in my dreams. He called me his.”

He nodded in understanding. “You wish to know if he is correct. He would have you believe that, true. But your will is still your own. I can tell that by the manner of your speaking.” Drawing in a breath, he shook his head and finished off his tea. “We’re in grave danger if we remain within the reach of Prince Legolas. He is the conduit through which passes these dreams. Sauron can use him to get to us because of our proximity. Legolas is using foul magicks if he can do these things.”

Vana knit her brow. “But he said this was how it was done to him, these dreams. Can Sauron not force himself on us just as easily? Once Prince Legolas was a true hearted being.”

Elrond knit his brow and shook his head. “I did not think Sauron had such power yet. It is possible, but I think rather that someone else must have served as a conduit to get to Legolas. Sauron uses all manner of trickery to get to those whom he means to dominate. It matters little. We must get out of Minas Morgul as soon as possible.”

“But how?”

The Lord of Rivendell shook his head. “I do not know.”