Redemption

Title: Redemption
Author: Fianna
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Violence, implied torture, sexual innuendos and frustrations, non-canon plotline...
Summary: A dark tale, one of two parts. Read more than the first few paragraphs for the story evolves into far more. A tale of redemption, lust and hopefully a happy ending for everyone involved.

Part One
Unfulfilled

They dragged the elf into the courtyard, filthy from his struggles and covered in blood from so many injuries she wondered how he still lived. Waist-length blond hair brushed the ground as the orcs nearly carried him to a tall obsidian plinth rising out of the earth, a sacrificial offering to their god as well as to her.

She smiled, amused, as they tied his hands over his head, hidden in the deep shadows of the castle wall, watching as they chained her newest acquisition against the cold marble pillar. He sank against the bonds holding him up, head back, eyes closed and lips tight.

From pain or defiance, she wondered.

A moment later, she had her answer as an orc rounded the plinth too close and received a sharp elbow in the eye, launching the unfortunate creature backwards onto his back to the hooting laughter of his companions.

The elf’s retribution was a fist to his jaw, leaving him hanging nearly unconscious against the stone.

A lift of her fingers had the orcs backing away from the creature, heads bowed in respect as she walked slowly toward the elf.

It had been a long time to have such a treasure in her house, a long time indeed.

She stood just outside his reach, studying him intently and then bravely stepped closer, waving off her concerned guardians. Tied hand and foot, the elf could do little to harm her.

She lifted a hand to touch his chest, ignoring the tunic matted with both dirt and blood, the long hair glued to the filth. She trailed her fingers over hard muscles that flinched faintly with resistance, aware the elf was awake and struggling to control his reaction.

It was hard for anyone to resist her touch and the elf was finding it out all too well.

She moved closer, aware of his scent beneath the ill tang of dirt and sweat, more likely from her orcs than the elf, the sharp metallic odor of his blood. She ran her fingers over his chest, trailing slowly up to his neck and then his jaw. She bent forward, breathing in his smell, nearly trailing her lips down the hard line of his chin.

“You smell of the forest, of green things that I have not seen in many a year.” She whispered this softly, amused when he did not answer, but felt the twinge in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.

She slid her fingers up over his cheek, stopping to stare at the blood coating her fingertips and then slid her fingers into his matted hair, forcing his face up near hers as she tugged hard on the pale strands.

“Look at me. I am your savior if you but ask.”

The elf took in a shallow breath and as she waited, opened his eyes to narrow slits, leaving her only to note they glittered with fury.

“I do not fear death.”

She smiled, loosening her grip on his hair to cup his chin. She pouted, her red lips hovering near his. “But I can be worse than death. Death here is a pleasure none have. No halls of your gods await you, nay, only dark and shadow, pain and fear. You will find this too soon, elf.”

His eyes did not change, staring into hers without fear. “Then I shall find a way free, or die trying.”

She smiled, amused as she was by his kind and their faith. “Escape is impossible. Only in me do you find any chance of redemption, or ease. Accept what I ask and your life will be one of pleasure. I can give you great pleasure.” She nearly licked her lips; the thought of what he could give her, the smell of him, made her blood sing.

He merely closed his eyes, jerking his chin free to lean back against the pillar.

Such arrogance, she sighed, but how amusing to pluck such strong emotions from one such as he. She stepped back, lifting a hand as the orcs drew near.

“Clean him up.”

The orcs’ mouths dropped open in surprise and disappointment, and then they nodded quickly as she turned to face them with a frown. She sent another glance at the elf, admiring the lean form and then slowly walked out of the courtyard. Overhead the sky grew dark and ominous as the orcs grumbled and dumped buckets of water over the elf.

Death - that was what she was. She paused, staring out the narrow window to the courtyard below again. Indeed, she was death to the life he knew. Even were the odds in his favor, even were he able to escape the bonds of both magic and steel that encased him, his life was now hers.

~*~

Haldir leaned against the cold marble, eyes closed against the sight of the orcs so near it made him gag with their stench. Cold iron encircled his wrists, biting into his flesh as he hung rigidly, nearly on his toes, against the black pillar behind him. Bucket after bucket of water had doused him until the orcs felt he was clean enough, and now, with a relief that was tangible, they left him alone and shivering slightly in the damp night air.

He could hear the squeaking of bats in the sky, and felt the faint swoop of air as they passed just over his head. Around him, the shadows teemed with creatures he cared not to name, sensed more than seen.

She offered him no escape from a fate no elf harbored without shuddering. A balrog's death was far kinder than being enslaved by the woman he had just faced. Had Fate played a dark card, had the Vala had forsaken him?

Was this his punishment?

Was it something else?

A faint light caught his eye and he turned just in time to see it grow dim in one of the upper windows facing the courtyard. Orcs needed no light at night, or any of the other nocturnal demons that crawled around him.

Did she? Was she not truly of the shadow?

He ignored the centipede that crawled over his foot, thankful the orcs had left him his boots. And although wet and chilled, he was at least free of the stench from his fight with the orcs. His strength, however, was fading with the blood that still dripped slowly from too many wounds.

He could not hold out long.

He closed his eyes, willing the darkness away, seeing in his mind's eye the fair woods of Lórien, the golden boughs swaying in the gilded light of day. He kept that thought firmly in place as the night wore on, until he slept in a reverie that was darker than the night.

When he opened his eyes, startled out of the nightmare of his dreams, it was nearly dawn. Grey light filtered overhead, dull and grim as the clouds that filled the horizon. He was sure it was never warm here as he shivered, still damp from the orc's bathing. His wrists felt raw from the steel bands; his arms ached from the lack of blood.

The orcs huddled around him in torn cloaks, grumbling about the light, and a few eyed him hungrily. No breakfast here, he thought thankfully, as he continued to study his surroundings.

High walls enclosed him, black and grey, damp with the heavy dew of night. The inner courtyard was perhaps fifty paces square. Two openings on opposite walls led deeper into the castle, another was the one he had entered and a heavy bar locked a fourth on the inside, keeping something in or out, he wondered.

Above him, orcs began to stir on the walls, booted feet echoing dully on the stone ramparts. Haldir rose on his toes in an attempt to ease the ache in his shoulders, resting his head against the stone behind him.

A sudden stirring and the following silence told him she was there. He could sense nothing of her, no heartbeat, no wafting smell of flowers or skin or hair. Only an emptiness, a shadow that tasted faintly bitter.

“You have only to ask and I will let you free.”

Such lies, he thought grimly. Free to do what - curl up at her feet, a slave to her whims? Not if he had any choice in the matter.

A faint touch felt like he'd been burned with a brand and he fought the resulting flinch of tired muscles in his chest as she ran her fingers over him again. His breath caught in his throat as she drew them down his stomach and across his hip, across wounds that ached at her touch, and then down over his thigh.

Her voice dripped honey as she traced her fingers over his thigh. “Ask, just ask,” she whispered heatedly.

Haldir opened his eyes to stare down into black depths that seemed filled with fire. “Never,” he said flatly.

The eyes closed briefly. When she looked at him again, the fire gleamed only brighter. “You are so predictable,” she complained darkly.

He arched a brow, knowing his defiance would only earn him more pain.

She stepped back away from him with a brittle laugh; turning and lifting her arms out wide, she called to the orcs in their guttural language to stop and stare.

She turned back towards him with a rueful smile.

“I gave you a chance to choose.” She shrugged, her gaze sliding down over him in a brazen manner that made him nearly blush. She moved back, sitting down without looking into a chair brought hastily by a couple of smaller creatures, who then quickly slid back out of the way. Haldir gripped the metal bands around his wrists as two larger orcs appeared carrying a large urn.

Whatever it was, it smelled vile, and Haldir had the distinct feeling he was going to know what it tasted like as well.

The woman smiled.

“Remove his tunic.”

The orcs leaped to obey, and within moments, what had at least been a tattered shirt were now shreds of cloth too small to be of any use. The orcs shoved him back against the pillar, laughing as they ripped the fabric from his body.

The woman leaned back into her chair with a pleased sigh. “Lovely. Elves are so lovely.” She leaned her chin on her fingers, dark eyes smoldering as she met his gaze.

Haldir watched the orcs with the urn out of the corner of his eye. He knew with a sense of dread there was no way to avoid what was to come next. He stared at the orcs calmly, pushing aside the fear of what the mixture might do to him.

The orcs drew closer, waiting for a signal from the woman with malicious grins. She nodded faintly and they surrounded Haldir, grasping his hair to jerk his head back against the plinth, another clasped his throat with a beefy hand and two more clamped arms around his legs and hips as he struggled desperately to evade what was to come.

Too soon, they forced the vile liquid into his mouth, spilling it down his chin, choking him with the horrid taste. The potion filled his mouth, thick with the tang of blood and the Valar knew what else, and one he refused to swallow. The orc slammed Haldir’s head back against the pillar and another slugged him in the chest, and he gagged with revulsion as the liquid ran down his throat.

“Leave him be.”

The orcs moved away quickly, while he gasped for breath, his throat raw and his stomach churning in complaint. His head spun, and the woman turned rapidly into three. It was the heat, however, that was worse. It seemed to erupt inside his body, a horrible desire that swept to the very tips of his nerve endings. He fought to control his reaction to the magick, struggling against the flood of fire that filled his gaze with a red haze of desire, wanting nothing more than to somehow slake the heat that filled him.

Her voice brought him some degree of sanity, pulling him out of the smoldering fire that cloaked his mind and body.

“It affects one in different ways,” she mused in a voice laced with laughter. He glared at her, his eyes narrowed, his chest heaving with the deep breaths that he took to calm the inferno inside him. The sultry smile curving her lips seemed to ignite the fire into flames as she closed in to caress his arm and then trail her fingers over his chest. “I think I like your reaction.”

Haldir could feel the heat that radiated out of her body, matching the fire in his as she brushed purposely against him, grimacing as her fingers slid down to the edge of his leggings.

Leggings that were uncomfortably tight.

He shook his head, fighting the drug-induced lust, breathing deeply through his nose. She stared at him, brow arched, only a hands width apart from him, her own desire clear in her gaze.

“You cannot fight the potion. It claims your blood.”

He clenched his fists around the metallic bracelets, closing his eyes, muscles taut as she shifted her hand, gripping his hardness and sending shockwaves of pain and pleasure racing into his body. A faint laugh and then he felt her hands slide along side his head and she kissed him, full mouth covering his in a lust-filled kiss that swept away all thought of fighting, driving him nearly mad as well as breathless.

She stepped back, breaking the kiss with a deep breath, her eyes oddly wide with surprise.

“You are not like the others.”

He sucked in breaths of cool air, struggling to control a body no longer his. Focusing his thoughts, he opened his eyes slowly, releasing his tight hold on the bonds around his wrists.

“Kiss me again,” he said roughly.

Her dark eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she smiled and leaned against him, her lithe body enflaming his desire again. He held her gaze, waiting as she slowly slid her burning fingers into his hair. She kissed him once more, mouth open, tongues battling as he kissed her back savagely, allowing the lust flooding his mind a moment’s freedom.

“Loose me so I can touch you.”

She moaned against his mouth, arched against his body as he ran his tongue down the side of her neck. “I cannot.”

He tamped down the frustration in his mind, capturing her lips again. He could feel her heated desire, and ignored the interested onlookers clearly excited by their mistress's passion. His body cried out for her, imploring her to change her mind.

“Then I cannot do more,” he growled, pulling away from her kiss.

She sighed heavily, draped full length against his body. She had to believe him spellbound, fully ensnared by her desire. She pushed herself away from him, almost staggering as she took a step back. She shivered, lifting her face to the grey sky with a pleased laugh.

She lowered her gaze to his and then her gaze slowly danced over his body, clearly admiring him, her hand lifted but not quite touching him.

“I would mount you now, with no thought to my audience,” she whispered heatedly next to his ear. He could feel her quivering with tension, her hands flat against his chest, searing his skin. “But the firstborn are a crafty race. Why should I trust you?”

He could not answer, lips tight, as he tried to control the hunger inside.

She skimmed her lips over the edge of his chin, nailed curled into his chest, a mixture of pain and pleasure that left him nearly incoherent.

“My lust will be my undoing,” she complained thickly. “But what can you do? Even free, the walls are covered with orcs, fully aware of what we do.” She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent as she kissed his throat. “You would be dead before you took two steps, were you free. But perhaps you are not as strong as I imagined, perhaps,” she said breathlessly, “your mind is truly mine.”

She slid her hands up his arms, body pressed against his, to clasp his wrists. “Your body will be mine as well, my lovely elf.” She looked deep into his eyes and then moaned faintly. “It has been too long.”

She caressed his arms, tracing the manacles encasing his wrists with a wicked smile. “I cannot free you, even as I would like; I am not a fool. I can loosen the chains, however, to allow you to touch.” Her eyes glittered heatedly as she removed the pins that held him against the pillar.

Haldir twisted swiftly, pinning her beneath him against the cold marble stone, molding his body against hers, savaging her lips in a passion she could never dared to imagine.

She gasped out a choked cry when he shifted, her wrists now encased within the steel manacles with a loud click, and a length of chain wrapped quickly around her neck. He smiled grimly, now in control, yet still chained with her against the pillar.

The orcs rushed forward as she struggled against him, her eyes wide with shock. His stare made her wave them back as she fought for breath. He ran his lips over her cheek to whisper into her ear.

“Give me a sword.”

She shuddered, but pressed wantonly against him even bound. “Why? So you can kill me? You won't get two steps before they take you down.”

He laughed into her ear. “Kill you? I don't want to kill you; nay, I have much more in mind.” He tightened the chain, leaving her wheezing. “A sword,” he demanded loudly.

A black steel blade clattered on the stone courtyard beside him. Haldir released her, grasping the blade with a wide swing that slashed the chains at his ankles. He snapped the chain holding her manacles, dragging her with him, stumbling alongside him as he whirled to face the orcs creeping toward them.

“Back!”

The orcs looked at each other and halted, grimacing as the woman moaned, clutching the chain still wrapped around her neck. Yet when he looked down her gaze held no fear.

“Do what he says,” she demanded, holding his gaze for a moment longer.

Haldir forced his mind blank, snapping the hold she seemed to have on him, shoving the woman in front of him toward the arched doorway to the courtyard. The orcs moved back, snarling.

He snarled back, and then halted before the orc holding the potion urn.

He shoved her forward, forcing her head back to gag on the same vileness she'd forced on him.

~*~

Fire clouded her vision, leaving her knees weak. Blood already singing from lust grew into a fury of need as he dragged her with him, backing away from the guardians confused by the suddenness of the whole affair.

Never in the thousands of years had anyone overcome the magic holding them.

The elf made it to the gate, dragging her stumbling dazedly, yet eagerly clutching him as he whirled to face the orcs.

He grinned, saluting the orcs who stared back in shock. Slicing the ropes wrapping the gears driving the gate, he flung them both backwards under the heavy portcullis as it dropped with a crash to the ground, separating them from the now furious if still befuddled orcs. They had only moments before the orcs realized he was free and took up the chase.

The elf laughed, dragging his new captive roughly into the wilds surrounding the castle.

~*~

“What is your name?”

She opened one eye, shivering in the damp of the tiny cave they were in, trembling with a fire that he had refused to quench. She tried to remember how long the magic would last, the heady draught he seemed to have learned to control.

“Does it matter? I would think you know already.”

The elf only stared, his eyes glowing slightly in the dimness. She licked her lips, closing her eyes against the object of her desire.

“You are not an orc.”

She laughed, that was obvious. The creatures were her minions. What must they be thinking? Under her control for thousands of years, were they shocked at the ease of her capture and the elf's release? She doubted they were thinking much at all, the trouble with dealing with lesser creatures. She rubbed her cheek, wincing as the chain clanked together, the steel cold against her heated flesh. “Nay I am not.”

He seemed so controlled, sitting there as if they had all the time in the world.

“They will find you,” she told him fiercely.

The elf lifted a brow. The faint curl of his lip told what he thought of that. She closed her eyes against the sight of him, finding her body only wanted one thing, desperately. Had she not been chained against the rock . . . she shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the bloody haze that smothered all coherent thought. So this was how it felt? No wonder they fought it so hard.

Admiration for the elf's mental strength made her sigh.

She only wanted to give in to the fires singing in her blood, knowing the elf would consume her if he touched her. She trembled violently, rattling the chains, biting her lip to bring some rational thought. It didn't help, especially when the elf moved to his knees to crawl next to her. The cave was too low to stand in, a tiny den hidden deep beneath a grove of pine. How he'd found it was beyond her, but he had hidden inside for most of the day. So they had waited, endless desire-drenched waiting, covertly watching the creature before her, nearly panting with the fires that raced in her blood.

He had completely ignored her.

It made her want to weep with frustration. Only now he was so close she could smell him; she could feel his powerful body as he knelt in front of her, gazing deeply into her eyes. She swallowed, filled only with desire, excited to see a small reflection of it in his eyes. Perhaps his mind was not as strong as she thought.

His lips covered hers in a heart-pounding kiss that made her melt against him, moaning with the pleasure of his mouth as it ravaged hers. His hands moved into her hair, cupping her face as he ran his tongue into her ear, sending exquisite spirals of electricity directly into the center of her being and then he sat back on his heels, staring at her again with a wicked gleam in his eye. She glared back, body crying out for relief, angry that he could use her own magic to taunt her.

A grim smile told her he knew very well what he did.

“Your name, my lady?”

“Will you kiss me if I tell you?” She wanted to scream from the fires crying out for release. How could he stand it?

“No.”

She pouted. “You want it as much as I.”

He did not argue, merely raised one brow. Damn him. She looked away, struggling to regain some of her composure. She had been in control; he was to have been an enjoyable distraction, a treat she had not had in a thousand years. Not since Elrion. She bit her lip, tasting blood, the memory of the elf still vivid - the stirring of her blood when she had looked at him, the pain when he died, at her own hands.

She had not meant to hurt him. The magic had gone awry, too much too soon.

She had not captured another elf since, until yesterday. Was it only a day since her orcs had ambushed the elven patrol, elves foolish enough to step into her net? She turned to study the elf as a thought exploded in her mind.

“You let them capture you.”

Steel grey eyes met hers; he voiced no objection leaving her grasping for reasons. “Why?” she asked hoarsely, unnerved by the intent gaze. This was all wrong. Elves had died in his capture. His wounds were real; even now, she could see traces of blood on his chest and arms. He leaned forward, blond hair whispering over his shoulder drawing her gaze, reminding her of what she really wanted.

“Why don't you free yourself? A Maia should be able to do so with ease, with your magic.”

She turned away from the sight of his hair, the muscled chest the coolness of the cave did not seem to affect, with a shiver.

“What makes you think I am a Maia? How could I be one of the Valar roaming the wilds of Arda?” She laughed sourly. “Do you think I would be here if I were?”

“Indeed?”

She tilted her head away from him, allowing her black hair to fall over her shoulder, shielding her face as frustration filled her. How long had she been locked into this form? Allowed only a tiny measure of her original power, she’d been stranded on the mortal plane by her own brother. Someday he would pay.

“They say there is always hope,” the elf declared softly.

She jerked her head back to face him. “Hope for what?” She stared at him and then shook her head. “You think to redeem me?”

“There is always forgiveness.”

She had to laugh; it hurt too much otherwise. “It's been far too long for that. I don't forgive them.”

He moved closer, and torn between wanting to throw her body against his or cling to the wall, fearing to hear more of what he offered, she held her breath. He was only an elf. He was an object to be desired, to take and toss back into the folds of the mortal world. She was above him, above all the petty creatures that surrounded her.

She was alone.

His hand caressed her cheek, leaving a burning brand on her skin, leaving her breathless. Damn her own magics, she had little control with him so near. She breathed shallowly as he drew aside her hair. Her body screamed for him, another touch, another kiss, more.

Fingers brushed her lips, grasped her chin to force her to look at him. He was too close, the spiky lashes, the icy grayness of his eyes only heated her blood, the full lips so near to hers.

“Why do you torment me?” She was gasping for air, the temperature between them immeasurable.

The grey eyes narrowed. She felt the first cold brush of fear, suddenly realizing how much control she'd lost, and he had gained. Within the magical bonds of the chains, she could do nothing. Had he known this? How much more did he know?

He moved away, but only a little, to lean back on his heels, long fingers plucking at the rocks at his feet as he frowned. “How many others have you tormented?”

She refused to look away. She had tortured many, but few of elven-kind, and a rare number of men. They too were difficult to catch, the good ones, the ones she truly would have enjoyed. In truth, there was only one of his kind who had really been tormented, only one.

No, only the wretches of society, the dregs of both orc and shadowed creatures, tortured to assuage a desire that would never diminish. Desire that none of the creatures she had captured could fulfill. Only one had given her a chance at redemption, and she had destroyed him. She accepted the blame, her penance to remember him vividly, to understand what she had done.

The Valar had left her at the mercy of one darker than she, believing her the same and horrified by it, deserting her when she needed them most.

Her brother had laughed; fully aware she was not truly like him, he had been amused the Valar were so blind. His magics so much more powerful than hers, he’d ensnared her in a tiny world, leaving her only darkness and bleakness, all color and life washed out in a film of grey.

And this one thought to erase all that? An elf?

“You are the worst kind of fool. Hope and goodness blind you to what is real.”

“This world is not real?” He leaned forward to trace a path of fire down her arm with his fingers. “My touch does not light the desire I see so plainly on your face?”

She dared him to do more with her eyes. She begged him mentally to kiss her, to mold his body against hers, to wipe the memory of the other elf from her mind, freeing her from her own prison, her torture.

But he did not.

He moved back against the wall, folding arms over his chest, leaving her alone. She was always alone. She fought the tears, faced the far wall stoically, jaw clenched against the swelling ache in her chest, the lump that closed her throat. Her tears would only evaporate against the heat that still enveloped her, a desire that would always remain unquenched.

Had she not been punished enough?

She felt a tear slide down her cheek, but refused to wipe it away, to reveal her weakness to the elf so near. Redemption? She was a fool to even consider it.

~*~

Haldir sat back against the cold stone of the cave, thankful for the pain of the rocks digging into his bare back, forcing himself to remain seated in the face of the woman's obvious pain, her stiffness revealing her tears.

He only wanted to comfort her, draw her into his arms to wipe the solitary tear now tracing its way down her cheek with his lips. It was not the draught that kindled his desires, but the woman. Her magic potion had only intensified it, enflaming it until he could hardly stand to be near her.

One look into those black eyes had ensnared him; against all warning from Celeborn, and even the Valar themselves, he'd been lost.

The day had gone as planned, the orcs believing his small party of elves destroyed, him alone to be captured. He hoped the injuries that had really occurred had been minor, but there was no time to know. His own wounds were superficial, bloody enough to make the orcs believe he was too weak to break free, his weak attempts to fight them off making them laugh.

He would have rather throttled them, bare handed, but instead he gave himself to them. He had accepted their taunts, their beatings, the magical chains holding him to the pillar.

Celeborn's instructions had been crucial. There was only one way to defeat her magic, only one way to find escape.

He had not believed their warnings, had not believed one could be ensnared with one deep-eyed gaze fringed with black lashes, a red pouting mouth begging for his kiss. One look and he had lost all coherent thought, nearly did as she asked and begged her to free him. And then she had forced the draught on him.

He ran a hand over his eyes. Blessed Valar; he had thought himself capable of fighting anything she might have thrown at him. He sighed, shifting to ease the ache of too tight leggings, watching her through lowered lashes as she wept silently.

He could not give her what she wanted. Not yet.

~*~


They stayed within the cave until morning light filtered inside, a dim lifting of dark shadows hardly recognizable as light. Haldir stretched muscles stiff from beating and sitting, dragging the chain that wrapped his captive's wrists closer, waking her from her restless sleep.

She lifted her head slowly, jaw taut as she glared at the far wall, unwilling to meet his gaze. He wished he could explain, wished more to ease both of their suffering, the smoldering desire that would take only a glance to enflame until it consumed them.

He rose to his knees, crawling to her side. “We must go.”

She nodded faintly, gathering the long folds of the black dress she wore. Black, grey, she seemed so desolate now. Had they taken all joy from her? Haldir didn't really want to answer his own question, her expression was answer enough. Did she not realize there was hope?

Perhaps she didn't dare; too lose hope was worse than not having any at all. Perhaps in the long years of her trials she had once hoped for release, and now . . . now all that was good had been buried deep.

Buried, but not lost forever.

It was the reason he was here.

He slid out of the cave, slithering along the narrow opening, dragging her chains behind him, and then rolling to pull her free of the narrow confines of the tunnel. For a moment she stared at him, desire still rampant in her gaze until she blinked and looked away. His own fires burned hotly and it was with a deep regret he stood, setting her gently away from him.

“Your minions will have thought us long gone.”

“My orcs don't think much at all,” she countered with a faint sigh. “I have grown complacent in believing my tiny world was so bound in magic that nothing could endanger me.” She jerked her head to stare at him, dark eyes searching his. “Am I in danger?”

He frowned, not sure what she wanted for an answer. “Not from me.”

She sighed, and looked away, shaking the chains free of her arms to trail to the ground. She could no more remove them from her wrists than tear her heart from her chest. The magic, imbued in the chains itself, held her more securely than any mortal bonds.

Haldir knew this and fought a desire to free her. A tiny glance from her assured him she was far more powerful than she gave on. She might be his captive, but she could still wield the mind games that even now scattered his thoughts as his gaze settled on the pouting lips, red, full of promise. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs.

The day would not be light long, already heavy clouds crowded the horizon. To be caught without shelter would not be good. They had a long road to travel, and he had no idea how much of the journey would have to be fought to continue.

He gathered her bonds, drawing her behind him, sword held ready as they ducked out from beneath the pines.

Silence greeted him, an eerie absence of sound that brought a chill to his nerves.

Her world was bleak and he would be glad to leave it.

~*~

Lebhieth.

Lebhieth an Fhuar. Did he know this as her name? How much did he know of her? She pondered this as he walked ahead of her, tense, aware of all things, turning swiftly as she turned an ankle on a rock. His fingers gently probed, and surprisingly, eased the throbbing. She had not sensed he had his own magic.

Fool. What else had she missed in her lust?

Dared she believe he meant her no harm?

The draught had finally eased, her desires falling to an acceptable level. They would never be gone, her passions out weighed most of her other thoughts. It was what had sent her to her doom.

She smiled sourly as she remembered. The man had not been worth the pain he'd caused.

If she saw him again, she'd not kill him, nay... more take what he flaunted and crush it beneath her feet. The thought made her happy for a moment and then she found the sight of the elf before her erased all thoughts of revenge with the desire that flooded her blood again.

She had to stop, take control of her emotions, but the image before her, bare skin gleaming in the pale light, hair waving slightly as he strode before her, long legs, tight muscled thighs, and she grinned briefly, a nice ass.

That was always enjoyable.

A glance over his shoulder wiped the grin from her face. Could he read her mind too? She doubted that, the Eldar had never such power over a Maia. But he was not a fool. She could see it in his gaze; he used his intuition well, instinct where she used a mind probe to understand her enemies.

She still hadn't decided if he was friend or foe.

Bound as she was she leaned more toward foe, but still felt no fear from him.

Curious.

They halted at what she termed mid-day. Sitting on a grey rock, amid grey trees, black dirt, grey sky - it was hard to tell. Only her feet told her she needed to rest and she sank thankfully down on the rock as he wrapped the chains to secure her.

“I will find some water.”

She waved good-bye briefly, leaning back wearily against the rock. How much farther? She'd sensed no patrols, had the orcs fled with her capture? She didn't doubt it. Did the elf understand that this was not only her realm, but her prison? He might drag her to the very edge of her place here, but to cross that magical boundary?

It would not happen. He must think dragging her along would perhaps afford him some protection from her minions. She nearly laughed, as it was obvious they had not been followed.

Had she no one that cared about her well-being?

She sank further against the rock, kicking the dirt at her feet. Did that really surprise her? She held her face in her hands, holding back the pain of despair, when she heard him returning. Just the fact that she heard him brought her quickly to her feet as he brushed past her, dragging the chains from around the rock so quickly she was nearly pulled off her feet.

She tried to look behind her, but the elf grasped her arm, dragging her to his side only to toss her over his shoulder.

She screamed, kicking at him to let her down, bouncing uncomfortably on the wide shoulder, but finding his grip on her hips was igniting the fire she had tried to subdue. She groaned, clutching her head as the fires flooded her nerves, would it never end?

Behind them the guttural cries of orcs made her look up, cheered slightly, but knowing the elf was far too good to allow them to catch him. It brought back her questions of just why he had suddenly come into her life. Was it a game of her brother's, teasing her with another elf, knowing how they enflamed her?

~*~

Haldir ran lightly, gripping his wiggling baggage with a faint grin, hearing her groan of dismay and knowing exactly why she did so. He rejected the thought to tease her further, rather gripped her hips tighter, and hampered little by her weight.

The orcs were not far behind, yet he kept ahead of them easily, leaving nothing but a faint smell for them to follow. Rocks, trees, all afforded him some measure of protection. His scent, however, he could not erase.

The orcs followed like dogs, barking and howling as they sensed their quarry, yet frustrated not to find it within their grasp.

The chasm when he came upon it made him both happy and frustrated. Happy that the journey was nearing its end, frustrated to know traversing the steep walls with a struggling captive was not going to be easy.

It would slow him down; the orcs would certainly catch up.

It left him a bloody end to a fight he hoped not to have to provoke.

And what of the woman? The Maia? Would Celeborn's directions work? Had the Valar truly spoken to him? He could only trust in his Lord, accepting a rare duty outside of his beloved Lorien, nearly outside of Arda itself.

He adjusted his baggage, received a well-placed kick in his thigh, thankful her aim was not quite that good, and a few chain enhanced blows to his back. A few feet down the narrow trail, he turned in an attempt to squeeze past a narrow section. She twisted frantically as he faced the wall of the canyon, screeching with a shrill scream of terror as she stared down into the drop in front of her.

He hauled her off his shoulder, slamming her against the rocky wall so quickly her cry was cut short by the pressure of his body against hers. Desire, hot and mind consuming filled him and he captured her next cry as he plundered her mouth with his, silencing her but for a groan of pleasure.

It echoed his own and he drew back, breathing deeply as she stared at him, hands caught between them or he was sure they would have found something much more enticing to hold than her chain.

“I will not drop you.”

She glanced over his shoulder at the cliff behind them with a shudder. “Easy for you to say.”

He grinned; amused that she still had a sense of humor to snap back, and pressed tighter, trapping her between his hands. “I promise.”

She was breathing rapidly and had squeezed her eyes shut, but opened them now to gaze at him curiously.

“I never believe in promises.” She smiled suddenly, dark eyes growing warm. “Unless it's a promise to kiss me once we get to the bottom if I do not struggle.”

Haldir nearly laughed. It was different hearing such things so blatantly from a woman. He doubted she used much restraint in anything she did. He shook his head. “Struggle and we will reach the bottom far quicker than you'd like. But you choose.” He stepped back, swinging her complainingly over his shoulder again, feeling her grow tense and then shudder as he swung around.

Afraid of heights? An interesting thought.

It took them a few hours to reach the bottom, hampered near the end by the arrows of the orcs, slung haphazardly around them, endangering his captive more than he. He could hear her muttering sourly under her breath as one missile bounced off the rock at his shoulder, fluttering both her hair and his as he rounded the next bend in the trail.

“Excellent warriors you harbor.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled, yet knowing the orcs were far more dangerous than he was giving them credit. The borders of this land were not far, a slight haziness in the distance from the top of the canyon, out of sight at the bottom where he now hurried.

The rocks narrowed, leaving him little room to maneuver, but also afforded them a bit of protection as the orcs realized they would more than likely impale their queen as the elf beneath her.

Besides, she was cursing them loudly, the ranting echoing in the canyon as he ran.

The orcs had hearing as excellent as the elves; they no doubt heard exactly what she thought of them. And were afraid.

He could only laugh.

~*~

Had she thought about it sooner, she might have struggled when the elf reached the bottom of the canyon to slow him down further, allowing her orcs to catch up instead of cursing their foolish rain of arrows. At least the danger from her own guardians diminished as they stopped, hurrying instead to catch up.

The elf quickened his pace, his stride now a gentle loping run than was smooth, his grip now – unconsciously or purposely- on her rear end, holding her firmly to his shoulder.

Nevertheless, she was dying. The pressure on her stomach, her attempts to straighten out of his grasp and her feeble kicks now made the muscles of her abdomen clench in pain. She was no longer thinking of the nice firm behind so near to her reach, but only wishing he'd set her down so she could take a full breath.

Still, the bare skin she tried to brace herself on, the muscles as they moved beneath her hands were warm and enticing, the silkiness of his hair as it both caressed and tangled with her own had her thoughts churning as well.

A flying shard from another too close arrow made her flinch, cursing the dogs above her as the elf flipped her onto her feet. She stumbled, startled by the sudden move, and then found herself dragged rapidly behind him as he ducked into a narrow cave.

She sighed, another cave? Only the tunnel was just a few steps and then they were inside a larger cave with a soaring ceiling above them. So close to the canyon, yet hidden! Did her orcs know of this? She had rarely passed beyond the castle.

The elf hurried across the floor of the cavern, winding amid the rocks and pillars that scattered the floor, guided perhaps by the faint light that appeared in front of them. Guttural echoes behind them told her the orcs at least had seen the elf's path, and she sighed as he dragged her once more into a narrow tunnel; hand on her head to guide her before him.

At least he was polite, almost gentle at times.

She emerged out of the tunnel, grey light blinding her even with its dimness, and then stood back as the elf slammed his sword against the wall near the opening. Rock rained down over the door but not enough to block it closed. She smiled faintly, hearing the elf curse quietly as he examined the nicks now gracing the orc blade.

He sent her a rueful glance. “Excellent weapons as well.”

She nearly stuck out her tongue, but instead smiled. “If one breaks we just get a new one.”

The elf's brow rose slightly. “Is that with the weapons or the orcs?”

She shrugged. “Both.”

Snarls had the elf moving, gripping her chains to pull her along his swift stride. After a few stumbles from her skirt, it was hacked off, leaving her bare to the knees.

“I might have to keep this style,” she muttered, jerking behind him as he rounded a narrow bend in the trail.

The elf said nothing, suddenly intent on his path, echoes of their pursuers behind them.


~*~

Haldir slid back, drawing the woman, he had not used her name although he knew it, against him. As always, the feel of her body against his flared the desire that simmered so close to the surface, nearly blotting out the need for hurry, the danger that lurked so close behind.

She stared at him mutely, waiting.

He only wanted to kiss her, much more thoroughly than he been able, but pushed that desire aside with a groan that was greeted with a lift of her brow.

“It hurts doesn’t it?”

He didn’t answer, irritated by her knowing chuckle. The canyon was behind them, the maze of rock slowing the orcs less than it had him. He didn’t have much more time. Ahead a faint shimmer of trees seemed close yet distant, grey as everything was here, weaving in a wind he did not feel.

The magic was near at hand, the boundary that hid this tiny land from most.

How many had passed within steps of its borders, uncomfortable with a sudden chill, unaware of the danger that lurked so close. How many had been caught in the net he had purposely jumped into. How many had not seen the light of true day since?

Too many questions, with answers he would not like.

Moreover, here he was, with a woman he desired more than any other, who had walked the path of darkness for so long she probably had forgotten the light. He could only hope it was not so, but the test would soon be at hand.

But not without a fight, however.

The orcs were only steps behind, enraged when they caught sight of their quarry. Haldir glanced at the weak blade, wishing for his own. The woman glanced behind her, keeping pace as he dragged her along, with no attempt to slow him down.

The lack of fight from her gave him a tiny ray of hope that this would end well.

It was a tiny wish, shadowed more by the fear she had something up her sleeve.

Had they missed some vital link in their plan?

The thought made him move quicker, pulling her along beside him.

Ahead, the opening he needed appeared, and behind him, arrows began to skip off the rocks, the orcs so close he could hear their breathing.

~*~

Lebhieth frowned, ducking as an arrow shot past her shoulder, missing the elf by hardly the width of his hair as he too moved aside, instinctively sensing his danger. She had always admired the ability of the elves, their grace and speed, the ease in which they fought. Elrion had fought well; it was what had drawn her notice, in the fight with his band against her orcs. Dark haired as this one was light; he had fought with a long stave, whirling the spear tipped end over and around his body in a dance of spinning terror. Her orcs had not know what to do and only after being wounded by arrows launched so tightly and quickly he could not avoid them had they gained advantage.

He too tried to deny her, fought against the very desires she inspired in him. But whereas this blond elf had gained control, Elrion had lost his battle. She in the midst of her own desires, an elf of such handsome estate blinding her awareness of what she did, she had charged the potions of blood and lust too strongly so that when they forced him to drink he choked, unable to breath. He’d been consumed literally by the fires of his desire and had fallen at her feet dead, to her horror and dismay.

What had made this one so different?

Why did the two elves fill her with such lust that she could hardly think clearly?

She was shaken from her thoughts as the elf jerked her forward, catching her as she fell, rolling with her tucked against his chest under a wide overhang and then they were falling. Lebhieth screamed, startled by the sudden loss of purchase only to be caught easily in the elf’s arms. She blinked, finding them inside yet another cave as the elf strode swiftly across a sandy floor. Water dripped loudly, the cavern lit by an odd light that made her squint.

Something was not right; her skin tingled as if someone were brushing her arms. She gasped as they rounded a section of rock, and in front of her, a wide river swirled in the cavern, churning loudly to echo against the rocks. Across the river, a shimmering bed of white sand stood gleaming in a light so bright she hid her eyes in the elf’s shoulder, unnerved by a sight she had not seen in more than a millennium.

Daylight, free of clouds and gloom, gleamed like a brilliant diamond, blinding her, sending waves of pain crashing through her body to leave her quivering in response. Behind them, grunts of pain and snarls told them the orcs had found the entrance. The elf dropped her to her feet, forcing her behind a small outcropping of rock, wrapping the chains securely around the stone.

“Keep low.”

She stared, and then tugged on the chains, horrified to think he would face the orcs alone. She moaned. What was she thinking? Had she not thought to enslave him? She covered her eyes, unwilling to see him injured; concerned he would be caught, caught by her own orcs!

Confusion muddled her thoughts as much as the light behind her. Arcs of brilliantly colored rays flashed occasionally across the stone walls, as the sun passed through droplets of river water thrown up by the churning rocks.

She could hardly stand to see it, her eyes watering from the brightness, the clarity of the color. Even the cavern seamed brilliant, gold and white, brown where she’d seen only grey.

~*~

Haldir left her, knowing he could do no more for her, and leaped for the narrow curve of the wall. The orcs could only pass through the narrow opening one at a time, making it easily defensible.

The first one rounded the corner in a rush, sword out to block any attack, yet startled by the sudden bright light, the color.

He forgot about the elf and found his surprise turning into a gurgle of death. The second and third found their ends nearly the same, but then the orcs understood and rounded the corner defensively, fighting the lone elf with more strength than he possessed.

The draught had weakened him, as well as the minor wounds and previous skirmishes. Haldir didn’t know how long he could hold out, a niggling concern that this was not the only fight.

The orcs howled, their voices clamoring and echoing as they called out warnings and screamed in pain. Haldir slashed and thrust, weaving from side to side as he fought each oncoming creature with a skill born of long practice.

But he was tiring, the blade, replaced twice, was chipped and scarred, catching on his opponents, nearly drawing him off balance.

What to do?

He leaped to the next orc as it rounded the corner, blade high over his head to swipe down but found his stroke met with a fair parry. The orc whirled under his blade, pushing him into its place, leaving Haldir with his back to the corner, unprotected, as their blades slammed together. The orc pressed him back, arms whirling with little fatigue as Haldir matched swing for swing, breathing heavier than he normally would, lightheaded and growing slower.

The orc grinned, barking as Haldir’s sword slid past his a bit sloppily, and cracked the flat of his blade against Haldir’s cheek as they reversed once more. Cheek stinging, Haldir ducked the orc’s next lunge, somersaulting backwards to land near the woman, crouching instantly to leap again.

He stood up as the orc stared at him oddly, glancing down at the long silver shaft protruding from his chest. The creature’s brows drew together and he gasped, dropping to his knees as yet another arrow whipped past him to impale the next orc rounding the corner.

Haldir wiped his cheek; hair fluttering when another arrow arced past his shoulder, spearing one more enemy. The orcs that remained chattered fearfully, none braving the narrow path, retreating until the cavern grew quiet. He glanced at the woman to see her leaning her forehead on the rock, arms wrapped around the stone, shivering in the light.

What he’d thought was black was not, her hair nearly blue in the true light of day, her dress the deep color of a violet –hued morning. He threw aside the orc blade and stepped closer, but stopped when she spoke.

“What do you think to do, elf?” She lifted her head; lips washed of any trace of red, her dark eyes wide in a face so pale the sands around her seemed dark.

“I will take you out of this place.”

She laughed soundlessly, her eyes closing as if in pain.

“Such gallantry, my darling elf, you did hope to redeem me. How odd?”

He bent closer, reaching out to lift a chin hidden once more in the rock. “You can be free.”

She was trembling violently, all trace of lust or desire washed from her eyes. “I am never to be free. Have you no thought to what and who I am?”

Haldir glanced up at the three standing on the far side of the river, blond heads wreathed in white light. A nod and they responded with a brief touch to their hearts, bows lowered between their feet.

“I have been given a duty. I have not yet fulfilled it.”

She gripped the rock, rising slowly to her feet.

“You are a fool of the worst kind.”

Haldir caught her arms as she stumbled. “You’ve said that before.”

“The light pains me. Do you not understand I cannot cross?”

“Only one holds you.”

She shuddered. “One far more powerful than any on the mortal plains of Arda, and nigh on those of Aman as well.”

“But not all.”

She drew her face away from the river, shielding her eyes. “And you think suddenly he will come to save me? After a millennium of years, after they had forsaken me? That they might forgive me my errors and allow me back?” She pointed a shaking finger at him. “You who live upon hope and goodness, believing all can be well. There is no hope for me! You have endangered your life for nothing, eer . . . a brief respite for my lusts. Do you believe had my orcs won this day you would not be back in chains, a slave to me?”

Haldir smiled faintly. “Nay, I am no one’s slave, Lebhieth.”

She seemed taken aback by his knowledge of her name. “Who has convinced you this will work? Have you come only to die for me, does my brother once more ply his games, seeking to destroy what little I have left of my mind?” She backed up, arms wide to keep him away. “I am tired of his games.” She whirled and then flinched, flinging a hand over eyes blinded again by the bright rays of the sun showering the elves across the river. Haldir reached her, wrapping his arms around her, catching her wrists.

“I will remove the bonds that hold you. Will not that prove that I speak the truth?”

She struggled with him, and he gripped her wrists tightly with one hand, unlatching the catch that only she should have known how to release, dropping the magical iron rings to the ground.

She froze, startled, only the sound of the river churning endlessly, echoed in the cavern.

Haldir stepped back, sure of his actions.

She flexed her wrists, rubbing them carefully, and then lifted a dark gaze to his. He could not read her expression, but held his stance, waiting.

“Will you repeat the errors of your ways, Lebhieth? Or accept that we have finally traced you to your prison, and endeavored to find a way to release you?”

The elf had dropped to his knees, head bowed as she turned to face the voice that spoke with no echo within the cavern. The river, once churning now lay smooth, hardly moving as she faced the tall Vala she had known so long ago.

“Ulmo.”

Behind him, the light seemed brighter yet, the gleaming radiance around the Vala sparkling off the smooth water. Lebhieth bowed her head for a moment as Ulmo smiled faintly.

“It has been too long, my dear. My apologies.”

She glanced at the elf, and then back at the Vala standing knee deep in the water, his robes floating gently on the surface. “Why use the elves?”

Ulmo frowned, his blue eyes mirroring the darker shades of the river at his feet. “A test, Lebhieth. One you have yet to pass.”

She stiffened; always there were tests with the Valar. “And my brother?”

“Cast out of Middle Earth, although he still has some power here, but nothing to hold you back if I so choose.”

“Am I not the same as he to you?”

Ulmo sighed, shaking his head. “Perhaps we thought so at one time. An error of our own we repent. We have spent a long time looking for you.”

Lebhieth snorted quietly. “There is little that can be hidden from the Valar.”

Ulmo lifted a white brow, his chin quivering. “Do not mock me; I have come to release you. Or would you rather stay in your grey prison with your playmates of orcs.”

She shook her head. “And your test?”

“To leave the elf alone.” The Vala eyed the elf still bent at knee. “Haldir has done what we asked, endangering his life and his sanity. We tried to warn him, but I fear he did not listen.” Ulmo shook his head sadly. “You have ensnared his heart. Will you free him as I free you?”

She bit her lip, glancing warily down at the elf beside her. Blond hair gleamed in the light. What did he look like in full daylight? She sighed, the brief thought of what the rest of him might look like cast aside as she caught Ulmo’s raised brow.

He always knew what she was thinking.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be free?” she suggested coyly.

Ulmo waved his hand and Haldir rose slowly to his feet. “She suggests you like being bound by a desire that is not truly yours.”

Haldir gazed calmly at the Vala, and then turned the steel gaze on her. “Indeed?” he commented dryly.

Lebhieth pouted slightly, knowing her choice, yet dismayed the elf would not be hers. She lifted her fingers, paused, and with a faint sigh flung her hand out and then over her head.

Haldir stiffened and then crumpled slowly to the sand.

Across the river, the elves gasped, but drew back as Ulmo held up his hand.

“He is well. Have no fear.”

Lebhieth stepped away from the rock and knelt gently at Haldir’s side, brushing aside a long strand of blond hair. “Such a loss will haunt me forever, my lovely one.” She leaned forward to press a soft kiss on his lips, and then rose to face the Vala.

“So you will free me.”

Ulmo smiled. “You were free the moment you lifted your spells from the elf. Aman awaits you as it once did.”

Lebhieth nodded and took a step forward, but then glanced back at the elf.

“And if we were to meet, as normal souls might meet?”

Ulmo laughed, hands on hips. “I fear the elf will be ensnared once more. But no magics, Lebhieth.” He bowed his head, and then turned toward the three elves still standing. With a wave the three fell to the ground and then Ulmo faced her again.

“They will not remember this day, these three, whom two are Haldir’s brothers. Had they found him injured by you, your life would not have been mine to save. Nor will Haldir remember, only Celeborn will know, and the Lady Galadriel.”

Lebhieth nodded. “Your grace is appreciated, my Lord Ulmo.” She bowed to the Vala as he strode across the water, leaving no wake. He caught her arms, staring down with eyes brilliantly blue.

“We will wait for word from you and hope you come home soon.”

She smiled, kissed his cheek before he began to dissipate into a sparkling array of water drops that fell into the river. The water shivered and then began to churn, returning to its normal flow as she watched.

Lebhieth stepped into the water, shivering from the feel of the warmth, and made her way across until she stood before the white sands.

She glanced behind her at the elf lying so still.

“We will meet again, Haldir of Lórien. For as you knew who I was, I too know your name and face.”

She smiled, stepping out onto the white sands and then bent over the others lying sprawled before her.

“Keep him safe for me. I will return.”

Then she straightened, and walked slowly out of the cavern, reveling in a light and warmth she had almost forgotten.