Strength & Joy

Disclaimer/Author's Notes: I own nothing but the Original Characters and their adventures. Everything else belongs to JRR Tolkien, the Tolkien Estate, New Line Cinema/Peter Jackson, et. al. This was done purely for entertainment and as an exercise in creativity.

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He was tired. He had been on the Northern Fences for over a year without a break. He was a Warden of Lorien, one of the Guardians of the Golden Wood, sworn to protect the realm of Galadriel, Lady of Light and her husband, Lord Celeborn, with his life. He had been doing so for over a millennium, along with his brothers, and it was not the nature of a Warden to grow weary.

But a shadow was growing in Middle-Earth, and the dark forces gathered around Lothlorien. However, thanks to those of his brethren who stood watch, and the power of the Lady’s Ring of Power, the Golden Wood was a safe haven for the Elves of Middle-Earth. Remaining on guard was becoming more and more of a strain, though his kind was strong and did not tire easily. Still, he was grateful to have some relief and made his way to Caras Galadhon, the great city of the Elves deep in the Wood.

“I see you are being relieved for a time,” his friend Fereveldir said as he joined him on the path. Orophin nodded.

“I must confess, it will be good to relax for just a few days.”

“Your brothers do not join you?” The other Elf asked with a smile.

“Haldir seldom returns home,” he replied, referring to his older brother, the Marchwarden of the Galdhrim. “Rumil has only just returned to the border. It will be several weeks of solitude and peace.”

“My brother is on the Western Fences,” Fereveldir replied. “I shall join him after my leave. They have had some interesting target practice on patrol, from what he has said.”

Orophin nodded. “The dark forces grow bold. I do not envy those outside of our realm.”

The Elves made the journey together and parted company just outside the city, each heading to his own talan, the dwellings of the Galdhrim built into the large trees of Lothlorien. Orophin passed a few Elves on his way to the large talan he shared with his brothers. They were rarely all home at the same time, so they felt no need to get separate dwellings. He gave nods of greeting to those he passed, some of the Elves familiar; others strangers to him. He was quite weary, actually, and longed only to put his things away and take a bath.

Climbing the stairs to the talan, he deposited his Great Bow and pack in his room and gathered some clean clothes, a simple tunic and leggings, and, after a longing look at his inviting bed, sighed and climbed back down, this time heading out to one of the bathing pools.

There was no one around and he was relieved. He was not as … sociable, he supposed, as Rumil, or even Haldir, for that matter. He was the quieter of the three brothers and preferred his privacy. Haldir was the better known simply by virtue of his position; Rumil, the youngest, had an open nature that allowed him to mingle freely with others, comfortable in any situation. Orophin, however, was quite private, and kept his thoughts close.

He undressed and slipped into the warm water, fed by one of the natural warm springs that dotted the forest. He closed his eyes and leaned back, enjoying the weightless feeling of floating in the water. He allowed his thoughts to drift and soon had fallen into Elvish sleep, not unconscious, but resting nonetheless.

He became aware of movement in the water, after how long, he did not know, and focused his attention on a far corner of the pool. An elleth was in the water, staring at him, her mouth slightly open. He had not noticed her approach; nor had he known she was there, if indeed she had been present when he arrived. It was a testament to his utter exhaustion.

“Forgive me, my lord,” she said softly. “I was attempting to leave the pool without awakening you.” Her voice was soft and hesitant, and held a note of … was it fear?

“There is nothing to forgive,” he replied. “It is not my private pool,” he added with a slight smile.

She gave a nervous laugh. “Thank you. I … you seemed so weary and I did not wish to disturb your rest. I know you have been on the border for quite some time and would not wish to bother you.”

As she spoke, something nibbled in the back of his mind. He knew this elleth, but could not place her. She had a mass of pale golden-blonde hair pulled on top of her head so that it remained free from the water, and her eyes were a dark, almost midnight blue. She reminded him someone …

“Lassea,” he smiled. Dinendal’s sister. “Forgive me, I did not recognize you for a moment. I have obviously been away too long and spent too much time looking at Orc.”

She laughed. “It is kind of you to remember me, my lord. I know you have much on your mind.”

He smiled and she was struck by just how handsome the Warden was. His features were perfectly sculpted and he had the air of command common to the Guardians. Her brother had that same attitude. Orophin had the most beautiful hair---a mixture of silver and gold, silky and thick. His eyes were a piercing, deep blue. Like his brother, Haldir, he could be quite intimidating. But when he smiled, his countenance was transformed as his features softened and a twinkle lit up his eyes.

“When I forget one so fair, then it will be time for me to cross to the Blessed Realm, for I will have lost any ability to find joy in Arda.” He joined her laughter, both of them appreciating the absurdity of such flowery speech. Still, he knew there was a grain of truth in his declaration and she was oddly touched by the obvious flattery.

“Are you home for long, my lord?” she asked.

“Six weeks,” he replied. It was long enough to acquire a taste for the relaxing peace of of the interior of the Golden Wood, only to have it end as he returned to the border where vigilance was constant and danger unrelenting.

“Then you will be here for the celebration of Lord Celeborn’s ‘official’ begetting day.”

He had forgotten it was time for the annual feast of their lord’s designated day of his conception. Whether it was the actual date or not, no one knew, not even Lord Celeborn. Still, it was an official excuse for the Elves of Lothlorien to eat and drink and make merry. He smiled to himself. His brothers would be disappointed they had missed the celebration, but such was the fate of a Warden.

He and Lassea chatted about inconsequential matters for a few more moments, then she gave a small smile.

“I should return home; my parents will be concerned if I tarry too long. With the dangers growing …”

“Indeed,” he replied. She climbed from the pool and he politely looked away. When enough time had passed for her to have donned her gown he turned back. “If you will but wait a moment, I will accompany you. As you say, it is a dangerous time, even though our borders are well-protected. Your brother would not forgive me if I did not see you safely home.”

“Thank you, Master Warden.” She turned away, ostensibly to rearrange her hair, giving him the opportunity to leave the pool and dress. Her hair was quite long, falling below her waist in a soft, pale cloud. She had to work hard to keep her hair neat. She sometimes wondered if she was truly Elven---she had the worst hair. Her fellow Elves seemed to always have perfectly groomed hair, in elegant braids or falling smoothly in exquisite curls. Her hair seemed to always tangle, always be in her way: she was constantly sitting on it, getting it caught in things, and if the breeze was very strong---well, she had torn several locks from her head when venturing out without her hair securely braided.

“Shall we go?” he asked with a small smile.

“Thank you,” she said. “You are most kind.” They strolled through the forest, talking of mutual friends and the general state of affairs. When they arrived at the talan she shared with her parents and brother when he was home, Lassea smiled.

“I have enjoyed our conversation,” she said. “And thank you for seeing me safely home.”

“You are most welcome. I, too, enjoyed talking with you,” Orophin replied, and was surprised to find he was not simply being polite. Too much time spent on the border in the company of his fellow Wardens where talk almost exclusively concerned threats and dangers, had caused him to forget how pleasant simple, easy conversation could be. He waited until she had climbed the stairs and then returned to his own talan. He undressed and fell into bed and was soon deep in exhausted sleep.

He awakened the next morning to the scent of freshly baked bread and a sweet smell of porridge. He arose and dressed just as Lassea and her parents appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the talan.

“Good morning, Orophin,” Fordredir, Lassea’s father said with a smile. “I hope we are not disturbing you.”

Orophin bowed respectfully. “Not at all, my lord. Please, come in.” He thanked Eru he had not had time to put the house in disarray, having been too tired to do more than simply sleep.

The tall, Elf, with the light blonde hair his children had inherited entered, followed by his wife, Calrhodel, and Lassea, who smiled at Orophin shyly.

“Knowing you have just returned from the border and having a son in the same circumstance, we thought you may not feel like preparing fresh food for your breakfast.” Fordredir said, setting a basket on the table. Orophin pulled back the lid and the smell of porridge and fresh bread hit him like a blow and he realized how truly hungry he was.

“Thank you for your kindness,” he said. “I must say, the change from lembas and dried fruit and meat, is welcome.”

“I knew you would appreciate it,” Calrhodel said with a small laugh. She had hair of a soft, light brown and laughing green eyes, and despite the difference in coloring, looked almost to be a twin of her daughter. “When Dinendal returns home he does aught but sleep and eat for several days. Lassea said your brothers would not be home while you are here and so we thought it unlikely you would do much cooking for yourself.”

“Your words are true,” Orophin responded with a laugh. Lassea caught his eye, then spoke up.

“We should leave Orophin to eat his breakfast before it grows cold.” She could see the longing looks he was giving the basket, though his manner remained polite.

“Indeed,” Fordredir said. “Calrhodel and I have business to attend and must be going. Welcome home, Orophin,” he added and the Warden again bowed respectfully as the Elf and his lady turned to go. Lassea gave him a conspiratorial smile and made to follow them.

“If Lassea has no other plans, perhaps she could tarry a bit.” The words were out before he even knew he had spoken them. He cursed his impulsiveness, but the elleth raised a brow and smiled, then looked to her parents.

“Indeed, I would enjoy keeping Orophin company as he breaks his fast,” she replied. “I have no pressing business today.”

Fordredir and Calrhodel exchanged glances parents throughout Arda understood. “Certainly, my dear,” her father said, giving Orophin a slight, but unmistakable, smile. “Orophin,” he again nodded to the younger Elf, then he and Lassea’s mother departed.

In the silence that followed, Orophin and the elleth looked at one another for a moment, then began to laugh.

“Your father looked as though he would rather have cloistered you in one of the distant talans rather than leave you here,” he said as he retrieved plates, bowls and goblets. He poured them each some wine as Lassea ladled portions of porridge into the bowls, a small bit for her, a bowl full for him. The warm bread was accompanied by a crock of sweet, fresh butter, honey and a plate of fresh fruit.

“My father is very protective of me. I think it is because Dinendal is away so often, and with the growing shadow, he wishes me to remain safe. He likes you very much. In fact, bringing you breakfast was his idea.”

“Indeed?” Orophin took a spoonful of the porridge. “He has my sincere thanks, then, not only for the delicious food but for the delightful company.”

She blushed and looked down, taking a small bite of fruit before a sip of wine. They spoke little, as Orophin discovered he was suddenly ravenous and finished all of the porridge and most of the bread and fruit. Lassea watched him with an amused look. He seemed so different when at ease, not at all intimidating.

After eating, she gathered the dishes and washed them, telling him to relax.

“After all, you have been risking your life so that I may live a peaceful existence. It is the least I can do.” Orophin insisted on helping, however, and soon they had things in order. She took the basket and walked to the top of the stairs.

“I should be going. I am certain you have things you would like to do; old friends to catch up with. I …” She trailed off, then smiled. “I hope to see you again before you return to the border.”

“I am certain we shall see each other. I would enjoy your company,” he said with a slight bow. She gave another shy smile and then ran lightly down the stairs. He watched her go, a bemused expression on his handsome face, lost in thought until a familiar voice called him from his reverie.

“I see you are wasting no time.” Orophin glanced down and raised a brow as a dark-haired Elf ran up the stairs.

“Taurnil,” he said with a laugh. “How fares things on the southern border?”

“Much quieter than in the north,” his friend replied as they clasped arms in greeting. “How long will you be home?”

“Six weeks,” Orophin replied as he and his friend settled back with some wine. “You?”

“The same.” He took a sip and sighed. “And already you have staked your claim on the lovely Lassea.”

“Claim?” Orophin laughed. “The lady is simply being kind to me. I am confident she has many suitors.” He gave his friend a wry glance. “As I am certain you would know.”

Taurnil shook his head. “Not I, my friend. She laughs and smiles and says pretty words, but in truth, the lady and I are not really suited for each other. Not that I did not make the attempt,” he said ruefully. “But apparently the Valar have other plans for us that do not include each other.”

They talked for a bit, then strolled through the city, Orophin gathering the things he would need during his stay, mainly food and other perishable or necessary replacement items. It felt good to be back among people who were not constantly on guard. As a Guardian, it was his nature; but in the city, he could relax and be simply an Elf. The soothing sounds of Elf-song wafted through the trees and his mind gradually relaxed.

He and Taurnil parted company at the end of the day and Orophin once again found himself alone in the talan. He caught up on some correspondence, then took a goblet of wine and sat on the stairs, listening to the sounds of his kin singing in the forest. He closed his eyes and let his mind rest.

Indeed, he was weary and the sweet voices of Elves weaving the intricate melodies soothed him. Whenever the darkness assailed his mind and he found himself tiring of the constant vigilance and skirmishes with the forces of evil, the memory of the peace of Caras Galadhon washed away any apprehension or doubts. Moments such as these reminded him why he had sworn to protect the inhabitants and realm of the Golden Wood with his life.

*****

The days passed at a leisurely pace. Orophin and Taurnil, intermittently joined by other friends, enjoyed their time away from borders with enthusiasm. There were impromptu gatherings full of laughter, the singing of songs not quite as serene as those usually heard in the Elven city, friendly contests involving everything from drinking to arms, and, often, moments spent enjoying the sweet charms of some of the ellyth who found the Wardens quite dashing and somewhat dangerous.

Lassea would occasionally drift through his circle and Orophin found himself noticing that she laughed, danced and otherwise flirted with many an ellon, but never seemed to take any of the dalliances seriously. They spent some time together socializing with friends, sometimes joining in the singing of the haunting Elf-songs, and, on occasion, alone, walking quietly through the forest, at ease in one another’s company.

The elleth treasured these moments with the handsome ellon. In truth, she had often admired Orophin for most of the years she had known him. He had always been kind and patient with her and she knew he did so likely because she was the sister of his friend. Now, however, they were alone with no brothers to buffer them and she admitted to herself she found the Warden attractive---more than attractive actually. The realization startled her and though she yearned to spend more time with him, she was afraid to do so, lest she betray her feelings and appear foolish.

It was common among Elves for them to sometimes recognize their true mate, if they should meet, even before reaching their majority. At other times, it took a while for one party or the other to reach that understanding. Lassea had felt it when she saw Orophin in the bathing pool a week or so earlier; she knew, however, the object of her affection had not yet come to the same conclusion. It was understandable, she told herself: his duties were dangerous and his discipline strict---he had no time to think on romance. Still, she sensed something from him, even when he was in the company of other ellyth, and knew their time would come.

She had been surprised at the jealousy that arose when she saw him with others. Still, Elves were passionate by nature, though their self-discipline made them appear serene to others, especially mortals; and she knew Orophin was much sought-after by her sister ellyth. After all, he was quite beautiful and, if the whispered tales told by giggling she-Elves were true, quite skilled. She had flirted a bit with some of the Elves, but nothing serious. If she were honest with herself, and she always tried to be, she knew the males of Lothlorien were likely wary of her father and brother, both of whom were known as fierce warriors and quite protective of her, though she was a fully grown elleth.

She wondered if Orophin’s hesitation to pursue a relationship had anything to do with her family and decided she should, perhaps, give him some encouragement.

One afternoon, she and several other ellyth watched as he, Taurnil and a few of the other Wardens who were taking a much-needed break from the border, competed in archery, a skill dear to all Galadhrim. They tested each other in speed, accuracy, distance---and no Elf dominated the others. There was much laughter, good-natured taunting and in the end, none could claim victory. Lassea handed Orophin a goblet of wine as he came and sat next to her under one of the trees.

“You are fortunate my brother is not here,” she said lightly. “He is the finest archer in all of Lothlorien.

“Oh, is that so?” Orophin asked with a laugh. “I must say, Dinendal is indeed blessed to have such a loyal sister; one who steadfastly proclaims his superiority even in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.”

“You think much of your talents, Master Elf,” she said primly, but with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “But then, what can one expect? You are always in the company of your fellow Wardens and feats of strength and arms are valued in your circle. When in the company of others---say, ladies---you need to show off your other talents in order to impress us.”

He raised a brow. “Indeed?” He studied her closely. Was she actually … flirting with him?

Lassea’s heart was beating rapidly, though she could not say why. She teased and tempted the ellyn of the Golden Wood all the time and never thought twice. However, she found herself exerting all of her self-discipline to avoid blushing or giggling like a green elfling as she made her first forays with Orophin. She was dimly aware of the others wandering away on their own business, leaving her alone with him.

“And what talents would interest you, my lady?” he asked, a slight smile touching his lips.

“Well,” she pretended to consider, though actually, she did not trust her voice. Now that she had started this thing, she was suddenly a little frightened. “I have heard you sing---and a lovely voice you have, my lord. You dance beautifully and I have heard you play the harp. You could, I suppose, astonish me with your cooking skills.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “My culinary prowess would impress you?”

“I do not know, as I have never witnessed it.”

“Believe me, my lady, you would be quite hungry if you waited for me to prepare a meal. I have never quite honed that ability as on the Fences we usually eat lembas, dried meat and fruit. No,” he shook his head. “I am afraid you will need to find some other way for me to stir you.”

Sweet Luthien, but his voice was seductive, and somehow, he had moved closer---no, she had moved closer to him; well, they had somehow moved closer to each other. His scent was intoxicating and his gaze hypnotic. She would succumb without even the pretense of resistance.

Orophin could sense her mixed emotions. She wanted him and yet was afraid. He had to remind himself she was the sister of one of his friends and not one of the more experienced ellyth he often enjoyed, though why he thought her innocent, he did not know; perhaps it was the way her breathing quickened slightly as she spoke to him; or the way she unconsciously ran the tip of her tongue just inside her parted lips before lightly biting her lower lip when she was very close to him. In any case, he was shocked to discover, he felt himself responding to her in a totally unexpected manner.

“Take care, little one,” he said softly. “Do you really seek this path?”

“Yes,” she whispered, so faint even his heightened senses had trouble hearing her.

He reached out and let one long, elegant finger trace the line of her cheek as his gaze drifted over her lips, then back up to meet her eyes.

She shivered at his touch as she looked into his sharp, blue eyes. She was afraid and knew that he saw her fear and that he accepted it. There was no judgment in his expression as his finger drifted up to push a lock of her hair from her face, caressing the delicate point of her ear in the process. She was aware of nothing except his touch and his gaze, so completely was she in his thrall.

Orophin acknowledged his desire to at least taste her temptingly lush lips. Nothing serious; simply a chaste kiss between friends. He hooked his finger under her chin and brought his mouth to hers.

The touch of his lips sent a jolt through her body that the kiss of no other Elf had ever caused. All conscious thought fled as she fixed on the single sensation of his mouth on hers. Her lips parted beneath his and her fingertips brushed over his shoulders as she instinctively sought more.

Her lips were soft beneath his and sweet---so sweet. When they yielded to him, he did not pause, but deepened the kiss despite his intention of simply a brief touch. He slipped his hand from beneath her chin, to behind her head, wrapping his fingers in her thick, soft curls as his other arm moved to pull her body against his.

She gripped his shoulders tightly as she felt the tip of his tongue delicately touch hers, then pull back and she sighed softly. When he pulled her against him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against his hard-muscled body, still a bit frightened by her desire, but feeling so safe in his embrace.

The kiss lasted for what seemed an eternity and yet was not long enough, and when it was over, she felt oddly weak. He gently pressed her head against his shoulder and she rested in his arms, reveling in the warmth of his closeness. Orophin stroked her hair lightly as he held her, his cheek resting against the top of her head as she nestled in his lap.

Ai, Elbereth! He had not intended to yield to his desire so much. He could tell by her manner she was accustomed to easy flirting and light-hearted teasing; but she had craved him with a passion perhaps even she had not recognized. What had surprised him was how strong his answering need had been.

They remained thus for some time, neither speaking, her fingertips lightly tracing over his arms and chest through his tunic; Orophin playing with the locks of her hair, occasionally pressing his lips against the top of her head. The sun had dipped below the trees, its waning rays still golden when filtered through the leaves of the mighty mallorns. In the distance, the faint sound of Elf-song provided a soothing backdrop to their quietude.

“We should return to the city,” he finally said, hating to break the peace, but the sun had set and twilight was deepening. Her family …

As if reading his thoughts, she said, “My parents know I am with you. They … have known of my feelings for some time. They know I am safe.”

He gave a low chuckle. “Safe? I am not so certain that is what your father would say.”

She giggled. “You are right, my lord. But he knows you are an honorable Elf and that I would not lightly …” She trailed off, not wanting to speak the words, lest he not return her feelings.

He knew what she was going to say and was grateful she did not. His own emotions were in a quandary, his need at war with his desire to be, as she said, ‘an honorable Elf’. If she were one of the ellyth with whom he often enjoyed sport, or even if he thought she was like one of them, he would not have hesitated to take his pleasure with her, knowing it would be mutually satisfying. But from all he knew of Lassea---and the Elves he knew seemed to agree---she may flirt and tease, but she was not one to give of her charms lightly. He did not wish to take advantage of her affection for him.

And, if he were honest with himself, he could not deny that he felt some affection for the lady as well. He had not been aware of it at first, but in retrospect, it had been there, dormant, as if waiting for their recent re-acquaintance to give it new life.

He was silent for so long, she thought her words had unsettled him and cursed herself for speaking so. “Forgive me, my lord,” she said, reluctantly sitting up, feeling oddly lost outside the circle of his arms. “I did not mean to imply—“

“Lassea,” he said firmly. “Hush.” She looked at him, startled. He smiled and his voice once again became soft, somewhat amused. “I cannot kiss you if you move away and continue to speak.” She had no response as he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again, this time thoroughly and without any attempt to hide his desire for the she-Elf.

His kiss took her breath and all she could do was cling to him as he eased her down onto the soft carpet of grass upon which they sat, stretching out beside her, molding her lithe, lush body to his. Orophin’s arms wrapped around her as his mouth ravished hers and he felt suddenly possessive of the elleth in his embrace.

Their passion continued to build and instead of satisfying it, their kisses and caresses only fueled the flame. Lassea had never felt so completely consumed by need as she did in the arms of her beautiful Warden. Her innocent flirtations with other Elves melted away into nothing in the heat of what she now felt with Orophin and she realized that her heart had been speaking true: he was the one.

Orophin could sense her surrender and it took all of his self-discipline not to yield to his own insistent yearning. He could take her now and she would yield willingly; and he would see to it that the experience was quite pleasurable for both of them. But something inside of him caused him to hold back. He did not wish to simply lay with Lassea; it seemed, somehow, inappropriate, despite their mutual desire. She deserved more than merely the satisfying of a need.

Finally, he reluctantly eased back and both gradually returned to some semblance of calm. She lay in the shelter of his embrace, their limbs entwined, her head resting on his shoulder as her hands idly trailed over his chest. Somehow, his tunic had become partially unfastened and the feel of his smooth muscles under her fingers caused a strange heat in her lower belly that she instinctively knew she could not afford to examine too closely; not now, not with him so near.

Sweet Luthien, if she did not stop, he would lose whatever grasp he still maintained on his craving. He reached down and caught her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each of her fingertips softly before entwining them with his own. He smiled down at her.

“And now, we truly must return to the city,” he said.

“But, I do not … Of course, you are correct my lord.” She sat up and muttered a curse as she realized her hair was in hopeless disarray. He laughed softly and, with skilled fingers, quickly returned her pale blonde locks to some semblance of order. She thanked him and took the hand he offered as he stood. He pulled her to her feet, but did not let go of her hand. Instead he clasped it in his own and once again planted a soft kiss on her lips before leading her back through the forest to Caras Galadhon.

They did not speak much on the way back, each lost in his or her thoughts. When they reached her parents’ talan, he once again kissed her fingertips before releasing them and bidding her good night.

She watched him as he melted into the darkness, her emotions like a storm raging inside of her. She climbed the steps to the talan and went to her sleeping room, undressing slowly. Her cat, Cie, lay watching her from her nest in the middle of Lassea’s bed and the calm gaze of the feline appeared much wiser than the elleth felt at the moment. As she slipped beneath the covers, she wondered what Orophin was thinking. He was kind---that much she knew, so he was unlikely to scorn or taunt her for her feelings and actions. Still, she knew her heart belonged to him and wondered how long it would take for him to surrender his to her.

As Orophin walked in the general direction of his talan, he thought on the elleth he had just left. It was not like him to leave a willing female with his desire unsatisfied. He was lost in thought when Taurnil called to him.

“I had not thought to see you here this night,” the dark-haired Elf said with a laugh. He and several of their friends were once again gathered with a wine barrel and camaraderie. Orophin accepted a goblet from Calaglin, another of the wardens and took a long drink. “No success with the lovely Lassea?” Taurnil added quietly, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“The lady is not one for idle sport,” Orophin said with a rueful smile. He would not have her as the topic of such conversation; it was not proper and, he was surprised to realize, he wished to keep his dealings with the elleth private.

Something in his tone must have alerted his friend because Taurnil simply nodded. “Aye,” he replied. “She is of a much different temperament.” They turned their talk to other matters and when one of the she-Elves Orophin had known for some time caught his eye and gave him an unmistakable look, he drained his goblet and returned her smile.

After a brief conversation, they found a quiet spot and he managed to find release in her arms. They were not strangers and each knew what brought the other pleasure. When they parted company, he found he did not desire to return to his friends, and instead went back to his talan where his thoughts as he drifted into sleep were filled with the memory of the she-Elf’s skilled pleasures combined with the recollection of soft pale blond curls and innocently passionate kisses.