Spirits of Light

Spirits of Light

Chapter 8
Author: Frosty the Singing Ferret
Codes: Elrond, Arwen, Elros, OC, AU, M/F, Oral, N/C.
Rated: NC-17
Summary: A young elf studies under Elrond and falls for more than she realizes. Takes place pre-FOTR.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yes, we are still alive. ;) Real life continues to take most of our time, but I actually wrote 9k today! It's not much, but it's a start. ;) THANK YOU to anyone (Beth) who's still out there wondering what we're doing. I don't know when Elven and I will start really writing again, but it means a lot knowing we still have fans.


*

Cala stood in front of the door, hovering her hand near the wood. She didn't want to be doing this, but knew that eventually she would have to speak to Elrond about what had happened. The fact that Arwen knew only made it that much more important. Taking a slow, deep breath, she gathered her courage and knocked.

The door opened quickly. Elrond's eyes widened when he saw her, and she noticed he looked very uncomfortable. "May I come in?" she asked softly, wondering if he would even allow her entrance.

It took a moment, but he stepped back and allowed her in. His silence did not comfort her. "What is it?" he asked finally, in a tone that suggested her visit was not a welcome one.

She swallowed heavily and answered, "Arwen spoke with me last night. She's very upset."

His frown and concern was obvious. "About what?"

"Us." It was a breath on her lips, barely a whisper, but he immediately seemed to understand. "She saw us, Elrond. In the greenhouse."

"What did she say?" he asked quietly.

"She doesn't understand," she said, pacing about the room, "She can't understand why you came to me. I think...I think she thinks I betrayed her, and you betrayed Celebrian." Cala looked up, noting the look of hurt in his eyes. "In truth, I do not understand, either."

He looked up at her, asking, "What do you mean?"

"We never speak," she replied, feeling the words tumble forth, "I care for you, Elrond, a great deal, and I will not deny I wanted this. But I don't understand what it is we are doing. We are intimate, and then we separate. I'm confused. I don't know what you expect from me."

"I don't expect anything from you, Cala," he responded, his voice tight and tired, "I'm sorry for all of this."

Tears burned her eyes, but she fought them back. "You regret it, then?" Elrond met her eyes, shaking his head, but no words came forth. Cala nodded. "I wish I had known. I blame myself for this." With a deep breath, she turned and walked to the window. The birds were singing, but she heard none of it. The only sound in her ears was her own voice, playing what happened between she and Elrond over and over again. A tear fell from her eye.

A chilly breeze swept through the window, pulling her hair back over her shoulders. She inhaled the scent, calming herself, and hoping she would be able to leave his rooms without further pain. Cala closed her eyes and prepared to turn back, to face him and leave. Hands on her shoulders stopped her.

Her eyes opened at his gentle touch. That familiar clench of worry and excitement stirred in her abdomen as she felt his chest close in along her back. "Cala," he said softly, his voice melodic in her ear, "There is no reason for tears."

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly, feeling teased. His warm hands rubbed her shoulders rhythmically, stirring more than just feelings of interest. She felt as though she was being played with, and resented him for that. She also resented him for not living up to the respect she had for him. Growing angry, she promised herself she would not give in this time.

His hands slid along her upper arms as she held still. "Just relax, love."

Upset, she shrugged off his hands and stepped away from the window. "Why are you doing this?" she asked tensely, turning back to stare at him. Her voice grew quiet as she breathed, "I am not a toy."

"Of course you're not," he replied, stepping closer, "You're a beautiful, passionate young lady and I," he took her hand in his, "I am your servant."

She pulled her hand away. "I need no servant, Elrond."

He smiled, nodding in deference. "Then what would you like me to be?"

"I would like you to be honest," she answered, mystified by the way he was acting, "Can you be honest with me? Just once?"

Elrond reached up, tracing a finger along her cheek. "I am honest with you each time I touch you. With every kiss and every stroke of my hand, I give you the truth of what I feel."

She hated that part of her felt weak at his words. "You speak with pretty words, but they mean nothing," she replied, keeping strong, "I though you were someone else. I thought you were wise and worthy of respect. It seems I am wrong."

"Can you not forgive my errors, Cala? I only mean to give you pleasure."

She could feel herself breaking down as he came towards her. "Why are you doing this?" she asked as tears began to stream down her face, "I don't understand what you're doing."

Elrond embraced her, pulling her cheek against his chest. "Will you not let me love you?" he asked, rubbing her back.

"Love me?" she exclaimed, pulling back and looking up at him in confusion, "This is not love. And what about Arwen? Will you simply brush aside her feelings because you have lust for me?" Cala shook her head, rubbing her eyes and stepping back from him. "No, I will not do this again. I came her to talk, but all you do is speak in circles. I should go."

She turned, but a hand caught her arm. "I don't want you to go," he said simply, drawing her back to him, "Don't tell me your feelings for me have changed, Cala. I know they haven't."

Setting her jaw, she replied, "You're right. They haven't. But this isn't right. None of this is. Let me go."

She expected him to release her. When he instead yanked her back to him, gripping both her arms in a hold so tight she thought she might bruise, her eyes widened in shock. "Listen to me," he said, his voice quiet but demanding, "I will not allow you to leave like this. This is not how it's supposed to be."

"How is it supposed to be?" she asked darkly. She didn't move in his grasp, did nothing to incur his anger. "Explain it to me."

The corners of his mouth pulled into a humoured smile. "It's supposed to be the way it was the first night, in your rooms. And it's supposed to be the way it was in the greenhouse. Do you remember? You were moaning like an animal in heat. It was," he paused, lowering his voice, "encouraging."

"It was a mistake," she answered, anger and shame rising within her. She couldn't believe he was speaking to her this way.

"You don't mean that," he said, loosening his grip on her slightly, "I could have you screaming my name again, love. Would you deny yourself that pleasure?"

"Yes," she breathed, fidgeting under his hold.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because you're hurting me."

For the briefest of moments, it seemed something flickered across his bright eyes. Hesitation, perhaps. Concern. Maybe even fear. As quickly as it came, though, it was gone. "I don't want to hurt you," he said, pursing his lips, "But I will get what I want."

The words rang in her ears as she looked up at him, hoping he would regain his sanity. "Are you going to rape me, Elrond?" she asked, her voice shaking.

His thumbs traced her skin softly as he held her, looking down at her frightened face. Smiling, he leaned down and gently placed a kiss on her lips. She did not turn away, nor did she return it. "I would rather make love to you," he breathed, his eyes hazy as he hovered near her lips.

"There is no love here," she answered, still defiant in the face of what was happening. She would not allow him to control her.

Elrond smirked, then took her by the wrist and tugged her back towards the bed. "Don't fight me," he said, frowning as though she was offending him. Cala pulled in an effort to get him to release her, but he was too strong. When they reached the edge of the bed, he jerked her towards him and knotted his hand in her hair. "I'm not against tying you down if necessary."

Without even thinking about what she was doing, Cala raised her free hand and slapped him hard across the face. The sound caused her to jump and she froze when she realized what she had done. "Let me go," she said, her voice shaking as Elrond blinked back the slap. He narrowed his eyes and looked down on her in a measuring manner. Cala tried to keep up her courage. "If you touch me, I will tell everyone what you have done."

He did not react well. Elrond tightened his hand in her hair and shoved her face down to the bed. Cala cried out as her knees hit the floor, her neck pained from the roughness in which he handled her. "Don't bother threatening me, lover," he whispered darkly, "Nothing you can do will hurt me."

"Stop it!" she cried, trying to push herself up. He only held her down harder. "Elrond, please! Stop!"

"Elrond," he muttered, pulling her up and throwing her to the bed, "Elrond is too weak for the likes of you."

Cala didn't understand what was going on. Her eyes widened at his seemingly insane talk as she tried to get away from him, kicking out with her feet when he came forward on the bed. He caught her ankle and quickly managed to straddle her body, easily claiming her wrists as she desperately tried to hit him. Caught and unable to move, she panted heavily and stared up at him in fear, saying, "I won't stop fighting you. No matter what you do, I won't stop."

His free hand brushed the hair from her face as he smiled. "Cala, love, I fail to care."

Trailing his hand from her face, he moved downward and began to pull the strings from her bodice. She struggled in vain as he took his time removing one of the ties from the dress, wrapping it around her wrists once it was free. The thin strings were tight on her skin as he pulled her hands upward, tying them to the bars of the headboard. When his hand let hers go, she jerked against it as hard as she could, wincing when it brought a sharp pain to her wrists instead of breaking free. Tears stung her eyes as she wildly looked around the room, reality coming to the forefront of her mind. This was going to happen.

Gingerly Elrond's fingers separated the sections of her dress, baring her chest. She registered his unwanted touch and bit her lip to keep from crying. When he leaned forward, capturing one breast in a slow, deep suck, she closed her eyes and felt her head spin, wondering how and why this could have happened.

"I love your scent," he said softly, cupping a full breast as he rolled his tongue along her nipple, "And the way you taste. Young, fresh." He looked up and smiled at her closed eyes. "You are one of the most beautiful immortals I have ever beheld." She felt his finger tug at her nipple, then pinch hard enough to surprise her into opening her eyes. When she did, she saw him grinning. "Forgive me if I bruise you."

Too disgusted and upset to speak, Cala simply averted her eyes from him as he bent down again to concentrate on his task. He took his time caressing her chest, taking pleasure in how she was prone before him. She kept trying to remove her hands for their bonds, but it seemed a useless endeavour.

Elrond sighed heavily, sitting up and frowning. "I had wanted you naked, but I won't be able to remove your dress with your hands tied." He pursed his lips and seemed to contemplate before shrugging and moving so he could tug her skirts up her legs. "I suppose I will have to make do."

He didn't move off her far enough for her to kick out at him. His touch seared up her bare leg as he pooled the fabric of her skirts at her hips. Cala tried to hold her legs together as he pulled her undergarments down, but it was in vain. "Hold still, love," he said as he maneuvered himself so he could remove the clothing.

When the underwear was free, Cala jerked a leg up but he was quick to catch her ankle. Shaking his head but smiling gently, he pushed her leg back down and straddled her once again. "I hate you," she breathed, too angry to cry.

"I know," he replied, the smile still faint on his lips. He watched her face as he lowered his hand to her curls and gently brushed a finger along her flesh. Even with her legs tight together, he managed to push past and insert a finger into the folds of her womanhood. "How does that feel?" he asked, his voice deep.

It didn't feel good, but he knew that. He was tormenting her on purpose. Cala clenched her jaw and looked away, trying to concentrate on something other than the way he slid in and out of her body. Finally she closed her eyes, thinking of a place where she felt at peace and at home. She tried to take herself away from what was happening.

It didn't work.

He removed his finger, and set about opening his pants. Tears now began to sting her eyes as she waited for the inevitable. She didn't look at him as he moved, parting her legs and entering quickly, giving her no time to even try to stop him.

The burning and pressure caused her to whimper out in pain as she stared at the wall. Elrond began to take ragged, shallow breaths, obviously pleasured even though his descent into her was difficult. He braced his hands on her hips, maneuvering her so he had easier access. Cala allowed herself to go as limp as possible under the circumstances, knowing full-well it was past the point of fighting. The most she could hope for now was a quick finish.

Cala cried out as he jerked her hips back as he swept forward. Her wrists were slowly being burned and cut by the thin ties that held them in place. The pain in her abdomen, though, was worse than the ache in her arms, and she felt sickened as he thrust roughly into her, again and again, without care to her comfort. She wondered how she ever could have cared for such a person.

It seemed like long minutes as things slowly turned to a blur. Her head spun as his sweat and heat suffocated her, the sounds of his pleasure making her ill. Cala bit her lip to keep from moaning out in pain, but soon she became so numb that blackness started to filter into her mind. She barely registered when Elrond groaned his release and fell at her side, panting.

She didn't care what happened next. Too abused to even think straight, she half-hoped he would simply put her out of her misery.

Elrond turned his head, looking at her tear-streaked face. "I would think carefully about how you handle this, love."

Sniffing, not looking at him, she asked angrily, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Taking a deep breath he sat up, covering himself and reaching over to untie her from the bed. "It means perhaps you should think this over before accusing Elrond of assaulting you."

Frowning, Cala waited until she was untied before quickly sitting up and clothing herself. She sat back on the bed, rubbing her wrists as he very slowly stood and went to the wine tray, pouring himself a glass. "Why do you talk like that?" she asked quietly, "What's wrong with you?"

He turned to look at her, and the first thing she noticed was how exhausted he looked. Leaning back against the wall, he seemed as though he wasn't even strong enough to hold himself up. "Remember what I said," he replied, pointing a finger at her. He downed the contents of the glass and set it down, then gestured towards the door. "You know the way out."

She wasn't about to pass by an opportunity to leave, no matter if he answered her questions or not. Just as she was about to stand, though, she noticed Elrond stumble slightly. When she looked up, eyes wide, he glanced at her briefly before falling to the floor.

His eyes were closed and he seemed unconscious, but fear welled up inside her. She wondered if this wasn't some sort of trick, and part of her was intensely worried. Something had to be wrong with him. Biting back her indecision, Cala jumped up and ran for the door, leaving without looking back.

Her legs shook as she made her way back to her rooms. She was sure she looked a mess, but nagging intuition made her stop a young elf on her way to the apartment. "Would you send someone to check on Lord Elrond?" she asked him, adding, "I heard he might not be well," when he seemed perplexed.

Cala watched the elf leave before she turned the corner to her rooms. Why she didn't speak of what Elrond had done to her, she did not know.

*

TBC