Vëassë eyed his brother: Silindë had arrived back from the bath looking tired and pale - and happier, and more contented, than he had in a very long time. It wasn't difficult to guess why.
For once Vëassë bit back his customary sarcastic comments, smiled, and gestured to the table.
"They have brought us food. I thought I'd wait until you returned."
Silindë's eyebrows rose.
"That wasn't necessary. Please, eat." He gestured to the platters on the small table - mutton, root vegetables, a bowl of fruit, rough bread; a plain meal, but nourishing - and seated himself, ladling a small portion of the meat onto a wooden plate and skewering it with his flensing knife. It was surprisingly tasty.
Vëassë speared a chunk and chewed listlessly, eyes downcast, and they ate in an uneasy silence, Silindë gritting his teeth and telling himself he had no reason to feel guilty, that Vëassë did most certainly not deserve any sympathy... The youngling glanced up at his brother.
"Silindë? Does this mean we're staying here?"
Rich brown eyes narrowed.
"Nothing has changed."
"Oh..." Vëassë picked at his food, gaze lowered again. "When does it start?"
The elder frowned.
"Tomorrow, at first light. So enjoy your rest tonight: from tomorrow you sleep with the rest of the young humans."
Vëassë froze.
"I don't understand."
Silindë carefully laid down his knife and regarded his sibling.
"You are to be treated as any untried warrior. You will train with the young Men, eat with them, bathe with them, take your rest with them."
Vëassë's eyes widened as he bit his lip hard.
"But... no... I... I cannot..."
Silindë's eyes were hard.
"You will do as you are ordered for once. If not, you will be... reprimanded."
"How can you do this to me?"
Silindë stared for a moment, then shrugged and resumed his meal.
"You do this to yourself."
"But..."
Silindë's knife slammed point-first into the table between them, and Vëassë flinched.
"I am tired of hauling you from the mire in which you insist on wallowing. I am tired of apologising for you. And above all, I am very tired of... of..." Silindë rubbed a hand over his eyes, suddenly despondent. "... of not being able to go home..."
Vëassë stretched a hand tentatively forwards, not overly surprised when his brother refused to touch him.
"I'm sorry."
Silindë glared at him, then rose to his feet and walked dispiritedly to his bed, sitting on the edge and staring at the stone-flagged floor for a moment before raising his gaze to Vëassë.
"One day you might persuade me to believe it..."
Éomer stirred, his gaze turning instinctively towards Haldir, smiling gently at the sight of the elf resting at his side. Even after all this time he still wasn't fully used to the elves' open-eyed... it wasn't really sleep, he'd understood from Haldir's careful explanation, but served the elves as sleep served humans... he shrugged. 'Sleep' he comprehended. 'Sleep' would do... He gently stroked a thick lock of silvery-pale silky hair, then kissed the pale shoulder.
Rich blue eyes turned to his, and the elf smiled.
"Good morrow, melethron nin."
Éomer chuckled and pulled the lean pale form to him, kissing Haldir deeply, rocking his hips against the hardness at the elf's groin.
"Meleth nin..."
Éomer gasped as Haldir slid below the covers, enveloping his erection in a hot wet mouth, slicking the solid flesh for a moment before turning onto his stomach and parting his thighs widely. With a groan Éomer slid over his back and sank joyfully into his body, gripping his shoulders and suckling on his neck. It took him only minutes to climax, pulsing strongly into his elf then collapsing onto the pale body with a contented sigh.
"Haldir..."
The elf smiled over his shoulder, eyes soft and loving, then rolled onto his side, spilling the king onto the bed beside him and turning into the human's embrace. Éomer squirmed slightly, then frowned, one hand sliding down to the still-rigid flesh at Haldir's groin. He closed his eyes and sighed melodramatically.
"Alas, I can no longer please my elven lover! Oh, what I am to do?"
Haldir raised a sardonic eyebrow and tapped Éomer 's nose with an elegant finger.
"My liege knows full well that things are not so, that his elven lover is easily pleased..." He paused, waiting for the expected irate expletive, then kissed Éomer 's mouth and continued, smoothly,"... with anything that he might choose to do..."
Éomer laughed and disappeared under the furs. Haldir gasped, his body tensing, as the king kissed his erection before sucking it teasingly slowly into the royal mouth. Haldir's eyes closed; he fought not to whimper as the human suckled, supple tongue licking and caressing the weeping shaft...
His breath caught as he came deep in the king's throat, hands clenched in summer-coloured hair, body rigid, then slowly relaxing as Éomer eased back, still sucking lightly, then kissed his way up his elf's body. Planting a hand to either side of Haldir's head he grinned down into half-closed loving eyes, then kissed the elf soundly.
"Much as I wish to stay here, I have a realm to tend to." He rolled to the side and tenderly brushed a lock of silvery hair back from the pale face beside him. "You will speak with the Captain?"
Haldir sighed and nodded.
"I will."
"My thanks, meleth nin. Seek me out at midday - I would welcome the interruption, knowing of the morning's business... We will eat together."
"It will be my pleasure." Haldir slid from the bed, pouring water into the wooden bowl to wash before pulling on his clothes. Éomer watched him, licking his lips lustfully, for a moment, then reluctantly dragged himself from the bed and prepared himself for the day.
Aeldig bowed respectfully.
"Greetings, Master Haldir."
"Mae govannen, Captain. Might I beg a little of your time?"
"'Tis yours for the asking, Master Elf!"
"I have no doubt that you are aware of our visitors?"
"The two strange elves? Aye, I know of them."
"It is the wish of Éomer King - and Thranduil King of Eryn Lasgalen, and indeed of Silindë Nornóion , the elder of our guests - that the younger be taken into your service and trained with the newlings. Housed and treated as one of them, with no more privileges than might be earned by his skill and conduct. And he is to be allowed no liberties."
Aeldig's eyebrows rose.
"Aye, Master Elf? What has he done to warrant that?"
For a moment Haldir was almost tempted to tell him... But the moment passed. He inclined his head.
"I will require a daily report of his progress - and behaviour."
"I'll deliver it myself, Master Haldir."
The elf's lips twitched into the faintest dry smile.
"My thanks, Captain. Should he cause you any... difficulties, you are to let me know."
Aeldig grinned.
"I'll be sure to do that, sir..."
"Excellent, Wren!" Feldag glowed with warm pride. "You're showing true fighting spirit now!"
The half-elf smiled grimly as she hacked at the training dummy. This wasn't 'fighting spirit', this was blind anger.
How dare he? Wren swung her light sword again, envisioning a silver-haired elven form over the straw-filled hessian. How dare he? The first time in who knew how long she'd felt secure enough to lower her guard and some pretty, arrogant… elf decides she's ripe for the picking! And would he listen to her protests? Oh no, not he…
Wren slashed irritably at the dummy, grunting with the effort, and the rough material parted spilling old straw onto the flagstones of the courtyard.
Feldag was grinning.
"Enough, now, my friend." The shield maiden eyed the eviscerated target. "I believe the monster is truly done for."
Panting, Wren lowered her sword and fought her way back to calm.
"What troubles you, Wren?" Feldag spoke softly, laying her hand upon the half-elf's shoulder.
Wren summoned a diminutive smile.
"'tis naught…"
"Oh aye," Feldag raised fair eyebrows in disbelief. "One who is as gentle as a flower suddenly becomes a warrior incarnate and there's no reason for it."
Wren looked away to the ground.
"In truth it is nothing."
"Hm." Feldag frowned, hands on hips. "I don't believe you - but I will not force you to tell me, if that is your wish."
"Thank you." the half-elf's smile was grateful and Feldag sighed over-loudly.
"Will you bathe with me now? Or leave that pleasure for later, after you've spent the day rolling in the mire?"
Wren couldn't help but laugh.
"I do not roll in it!"
"You might as well," Feldag was rueful, "I've not seen anyone get as much pleasure as you do from clearing out the stalls!"
"'tis not a pleasure but an honourable duty." Wren grinned. "But as to your question, yes I will bathe now."
"Good." Feldag sighed again, winding around her finger a lock of her friend's dark hair that had escaped from its bindings. "This will be clean for a short while at least…"
The shield maiden frowned as Wren tensed, again, at the sound of someone approaching the bathing room.
"You're as nervous as a colt in a thunderstorm!" She reached for the bucket of clean water beside the tub. "Will you not tell me what's amiss?"
The half-elf remained silent while her friend rinsed the soap out of her hair, relaxing back into Feldag's deft fingers.
"Well?" the human girl prompted gently.
Wren sighed, considering. Normally she'd have kept any unpleasantness to herself, but then, normally she'd have no one to tell it to. The half-elf made her decision, twisting to look up at her friend.
"I was bathing, yestermorn after training…"
Feeling hesitant and uncomfortable, Wren related the details of her encounter with the stranger elf, playing down all the while how genuinely frightened she'd been. Feldag, however, had the wits of her father and wasn't fooled by the half-elf's apparent nonchalance. The shield maiden's expression grew darker and tighter as the story progressed.
"Elf or no he deserves to be dragged behind a runaway horse for such behaviour!"
Wren started in alarm at her friend's snarl and hastened to reassure her.
"I'm sure he meant no harm - "
But Feldag would not be placated; the shield maiden continued to utter dire threats concerning the foolhardy elf's vitals until Wren began to fear more for his safety than hers.
"No! Feldag, please, you are not to harm him!"
The mortal subsided with a growl.
"Why not?"
"Because," Wren frowned, struggling for the words to express herself, "because it is my… trouble and I will deal with it. Swear to me you will leave him be."
Feldag made to protest then stopped. She could in good conscience pledge no harm to the elf… No harm from her, leastways.
"Very well, I swear it." she muttered, scowling for extra measure while secretly plotting another course of action…
Feldag watched with some satisfaction the dark ire kindle in her father's eyes. Satisfaction, and a prickle of alarm. Aeldig's reaction to her retelling of Wren's story had been… vehement.
"Father? Is there more to this than Wren will say?"
"Aye, there is, but the details are not mine to give." The captain's eyes were wintry. "Never fear, daughter, the elf will get at least some of what he deserves."
"Wren wishes no harm to him," Feldag thought it prudent to mention. Aeldig grinned, wolfish and anticipatory, the sort of expression his daughter had only seen before he rode out to battle.
"Oh, I'll not harm him, but the life of a new recruit can be harsh."
"Father?"
"At our King's request, Vëassë Nornóion is to be trained with the Rohirrim," Aeldig smirked darkly. "And I am to be his instructor."
Feldag's pale eyes gleamed with an expression not unlike her sire's.
"He almost has my sympathies, then…"
Silindë tapped at the door, waiting for the faint "Yes?" before letting himself in. He paused just inside, hands folded together, regarded the half-elf with a mix of curiosity and sympathy, then inclined his head.
"Mae govannen, Cirince Ëarthúliell. I am Silindë Nornóion, of Eryn Lasgalen. I... understand that my brother has caused you distress..."
The girl looked at him blankly for a moment then frowned a little.
"That was your brother, in the bathing room?"
The elf looked weary.
"Yes."
Wren's frown deepened.
"What do you want of me?"
The abrupt question took him a little aback: he forced himself to remember that she was unused to elvish custom.
"I want nothing, Cirince, but to offer my sincerest apologies for his behaviour. He will apologise himself, of course, but I would not wish you to think ill of all our family."
The girl lifted her chin.
"I have learnt to judge individuals by their actions, not their family." She tilted her head and regarded him from bird-bright dark eyes. "Have you had cause to apologise for your kin before, Master…" she stumbled over his name, "Silindë? The words seem to come easily to you."
The elf lowered his head, eyes closing momentarily.
"Such is, alas, the case."
The half-elf's reply was soft.
"Perhaps it is time then to stop. Let the full burden fall on his shoulders."
Silindë blinked, then eyed her narrowly, uncertain of how to reply. His lips parted, then closed again, and he offered a wry smile.
"Those shoulders may not be broad enough to support the weight! But it is a wise thought. My thanks, Cirince."
She nodded, her gaze still serious.
"Mayhap having to shoulder the load would lessen the likelihood of him adding to it." She smiled shyly. "But I must thank you for your apology, even if you are not the one at fault."
He bowed, hand to heart, a small smile on his lips.
"I thank you, Cirince peredhil. You are most generous." He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head slightly. "I would that you know I am at your service, should you require it."
"My thanks…" she replied simply, then smiled self-consciously. "Forgive me, Master Silindë, but what is that word you use? Cirince? I recognise peredhil…"
Silindë stared at her, bewildered.
"It is your name."
She stared back at him, equally bewildered.
"My name is Wren."
He regarded her for a moment, then smiled. It was a beautiful smile.
"And Cirince is Wren, in the language of the Firstborn. 'tis your elven name, Cirince peredhil."
The half-elf's eyes opened wide.
"My name? That's beautiful!"
Silindë gazed at the half-elf, nodding. The peredhil was a lovely creature.
"'tis most fitting."
A blush coloured the girl's cheeks but she smiled.
"And I may call myself that? Even though I'm not truly elvish?"
He blinked, then frowned, and took a couple of steps further into the room before remembering he had not been invited to approach. Stopping and folding his hands again he inclined his head.
"Cirince, how are you not 'truly elvish'? Your father was an Elf: the blood flows strong in your veins, 'tis obvious! You are of our kin and kind. That your mother was human matters naught. Some of the greatest of us have human blood, also."
The girl's blush deepened and she lowered her eyes.
"Forgive me, Master Silindë, I have spent the entirety of my life amongst humans, I know not what is acceptable amongst elves." She peeped up at him then, curiosity overcoming embarrassment. "Half-bloods are not reviled by the elves?"
He pursed his lips.
"It would perhaps be untrue to say that all elves are tolerant of peredhil: as with humans, there may be prejudice and intolerance - though I know not where. To the greater majority of us, peredhil are in no way inferior. Lord Elrond, one of the wisest and most cultured of us all, is living proof of that."
Wren ventured a tentative smile.
"That is… heartening." She held his gaze and the counsellor read hope and a barely concealed longing in her eyes. "Master Silindë, would I be welcomed amongst my father's people?"
He wished he could say yes.
"Amongst the Galadhrim - I cannot say. The elves of Lothlórien have little to do with humans, and their power is fading. I know that at Imladris you would be most welcome, and amongst my own kin." Though perhaps not immediately, he added silently. Though with the lifting of the Shadow from the forest the woodland elves' spirits had also risen, and song was heard again through Eryn Lasgalen, and Thranduil allowed elf and human and even - though not entirely happily - dwarf within its bounds. Much of that was due to Prince Legolas, of course, and the part the Free Peoples had played in the War... He pulled his thoughts back to the present and smiled.
"But I am sure Haldir will be able to say with more certainty. We must speak to him..."
The half-elf nodded, her expression thoughtful.
"I would like to see my father's home - even if I cannot stay." She brightened, turning a soft smile on the fair-haired elf. "I thank you for making the time to speak with me, Master Silindë."
"Just Silindë, please, Cirince." He hesitated for a moment, then extended a hand. "I intend to exercise my horse shortly. Would you care to accompany me? I believe you know little of your elven heritage, and I might perhaps remedy that."
Wren beamed at him.
"I would enjoy that greatly…"
Half an hour later Silindë led the way from the stables to the path leading down to the plain, Cirince behind him on Vëassë's horse. The elf had automatically led Avása outside - it seemed sensible to him to have Cirince ride the animal, Vëassë wouldn't be allowed to for quite some time, and the horse, while spirited, was generally obedient and used to an elvish rider. It wasn't until he watched her struggles to mount that he thought to ask if she could ride, and on hearing that she had only ridden for the first time two weeks ago, and with saddle and bridle at that, suggested most strongly that they take a walk instead. However, by that time the peredhil was firmly seated and from the stubborn cast to her delicate face it was obvious she had no intention of dismounting...
Well, the elf thought to himself resignedly, they'd just have to go gently. Swinging himself up onto his own Hwesta, he'd headed towards the gate, only to be stopped by an urgent call from behind him. Haldir hastened forwards, one hand on Hwesta's neck, checking the animal's motion as he frowned at Silindë.
"You cannot ride unguarded! And Cirince cannot ride at all!"
Silindë touched Haldir's cheek fondly.
"We are not going far. I thought a gentle walk on the plain outside Edoras, just for a little while, would be most welcome for us all. We will stay in sight of the city."
"I should come with you."
Silindë shook his head.
"'tis not needed, mellon nin. The King needs you, the horses need a little exercise, I need the open sky, and Cirince - well, the best way for her to learn is to do..."
Haldir glowered - then smiled, patting Hwesta's neck.
"You are right, Silindë. Very well. But I will have a guard watch you from the walls, so do not venture far. It would be most embarrassing to have to send Riders after you!"
Silindë chuckled, then leaned down to brush a kiss over Haldir's cheek.
"Thank you, Haldir. We will not be long - an hour or two, at most."
Vëassë shoved stray strands of hair back from his face, took a couple of deep breaths, and bent himself over the broom once more, expression grim.
He'd arrived at the training ground - very late: he usually relied on Silindë to rouse him, but his brother had been deeply, soundly resting, for the first time in a long time, and failed to stir at his usual hour - to find himself the object of a long row of hostile human eyes. He'd smiled uncertainly as he presented himself to Aeldig: the captain had cuffed him across the head (which had raised a chorus of sniggers from the other youngsters), ordered him to be on time in future, handed him the broom and barked at him to clean out the stables. Feeling decidedly hard done-by, the elf had stalked off to the long building...
Three hours later and he was aching. Strong and fit though he was, this was tiring work. And boring. And... he threw the broom down, suddenly angry. This was servants' work! He was no servant!
A cold draught whisked through the building as the main door opened, and one of the human youths stuck his head in.
"Ey, elf? You want to eat, best get your arse out here now..."
Indignant at being addressed so cavalierly, for a moment Vëassë debated ignoring the boy - but he was hungry, he'd had no time to break his fast. He brushed straw from his clothes and hair and hurried across the courtyard to the communal hall.
The meal was a trial. The food was plain but substantial, and there was plenty of it - Aeldig had no intention of letting his young Riders go hungry - but the elf was uneasily aware of human eyes watching him, whispered comments only half-heard but seemingly crude, if he'd understood the dialect aright.
It occurred to him that he was alone here...
He finished the bowl swiftly, and Aeldig beckoned him near.
"Finished the stable?"
"Almost."
He reeled back as a hard hand cuffed him across the head.
"Address me properly!"
"I've almost finished... sir?"
The captain eyed him harshly for a moment, then nodded grudgingly.
"Aye, it'll do. Finish quickly. Then you'll get yourself to the kitchens."
The kitchens? He frowned.
"Why the kitchens? ... Sir." he added quickly as Aeldig's hand came up again.
"Because," the Man spoke slowly and distinctly, as though to a half-witted child, which made the other youths snigger, "they need help preparing for tonight's meal - and tomorrow's."
Vëassë would have objected, but the hostility in the captain's eyes was frightening. He swallowed and nodded, saluted and turned to go back to the stables, flinching as Aeldig shouted after him,
"And I shall check later. If 'tis not to my satisfaction, you'll do it again!"
Silindë offered to help Cirince dismount; hesitantly she placed her small hands in his long fingers and half leapt, half slid from the horse's back, wincing as she landed. Riding without a saddle was quite different to riding with one, as her back and legs were telling her in no uncertain terms. Silindë frowned.
"I am sorry, Cirince. Avása is unused to such tack as the Rohirrim employ, but if it would be more comfortable for you, I'm sure I can persuade him to bear it."
She shook her head, then smiled, eyes widening.
"We may do this again?"
The elf inclined his head.
"If it pleases you. Our horses are unused to idleness, and grow restive if they do not have an hour's freedom every day."
She clasped her hands together, face alight with happiness.
"Master Silindë, I would like that very much. And I will ride as you do."
"Then it is settled." He smiled. "Would you honour me with your presence for the evening meal? With your agreement, I would like to continue our discussion."
"The honour would be mine..."
Silindë tapped on the door, entering at Haldir's somewhat distracted "Come" and seating himself opposite the advisor, waiting until he had finished perusing the parchment in his hands. Haldir laid the scroll on the table and regarded his friend.
"Your ride was enjoyable?"
"Indeed it was! It is a rare pleasure to ride without haste, without need, and the land here is, in its own way, quite beautiful."
Haldir smiled sadly, lowering his gaze to the smooth tabletop.
"I miss the trees."
Silindë eyed him for a moment, frowning slightly, then laid a hand sympathetically over the advisor's, suddenly struck by how lonely it must be here for the 'lórien elf. He twined his fingers with Haldir's.
"You should return to the Golden Wood."
Haldir shook his head without looking up.
"My place is here."
Silindë could have argued, but there was little point. On some matters Haldir would not be moved. And he was aware, even if Haldir would not admit to it, of the advisor's feelings for his king. He squeezed the long fingers gently then pulled his hand back.
"Cirince has agreed to dine with me: I would appreciate your joining us."
Haldir regarded him, one eyebrow raised.
"Why?"
Silindë shrugged.
"It would be beneficial for her to learn our tongue. And she has spoken of visiting Lothlórien, and you would know more of that than I. And she is a delight, in and of herself, with a great thirst for knowledge."
Haldir considered the matter for a moment, then nodded.
"I believe Éomer will not begrudge me a meal or two."
"Good. Then we will see you at the evening meal." Silindë rose to his feet. "I had best make haste to bathe, lest I be late!"
"If you will wait but a moment, I will join you."
Silindë paused, feeling heat quicken in his groin, then firmly told himself not to be so... optimistic. He inclined his head.
"Certainly, mellon nin..."
The water was hot, and relaxing - or it would have been, had Haldir's muscular, beautiful body not been sprawled beside him in the tub. Silindë swallowed and tried to keep his eyes averted: the advisor ran a fingertip down his cheek, and the younger elf shivered. Haldir leaned towards him, and Silindë nearly collapsed under the water as the fingertip moved up to caress his ear. His eyes closed, his head rolling back as the advisor's other hand slid down his ribs to nestle over his groin.
"It is not just that one so fair should be so lonely." It was murmured, and Silindë whimpered, turning to Haldir and burying a hand in silvery-pale hair.
"Melethron... Please..."
Haldir lifted the counsellor onto his lap, Silindë's back to his chest, both gasping as the younger elf rose slightly then impaled himself on the solid flesh below him. Lying back against Haldir, moaning with need, Silindë shuddered as long knowing fingers stroked him, eartip, neck, chest, coming to rest around his own erection and gripping firmly, fondling and kneading.
He cried out Haldir's name as he climaxed, shaking against the advisor's body. Haldir let him rest for a moment, then began to move within him, gently, tantalisingly, kissing his neck and ear, leaving Silindë helplessly writhing in his lap...
With exquisite timing they came together, Silindë gasping and trembling, Haldir with a long, satisfied sigh as he nuzzled his lover's neck. For a while they lay relaxed in the water, then Haldir bestirred himself.
"We had best get out."
"Mmmm..."
Haldir chuckled soundlessly and kissed the tip of a pointed ear.
"Éomer has asked me how it would be if you were to join us."
Silindë froze, then twisted to regard Haldir.
"In truth?"
"Yes."
Silindë frowned, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip.
"'twould be... interesting..."
Haldir's brows rose.
"You might not be averse?"
"I would wish to consider the matter further, but... no, at first thought I cannot claim to find the notion repugnant. If it would not trouble you."
Haldir lifted the younger elf carefully from his lap and pulled them both to their feet.
"It would not."
"Then... let me think on it for a day or two."
"Most assuredly." Haldir climbed from the tub and extended a hand to help Silindë. "But for now, let us make haste to the hall, before Cirince despairs of you!"
Wren was well aware of the curious, even envious, glances Feldag and others of the shield maidens were throwing her way during the communal evening meal. No doubt she could expect to be quizzed in-depth about the elves and their habits as soon as her friends could seize the chance. But it was pleasant having the company of such elegant, and beautiful, beings. The half-elf still found Haldir distant and intimidating, though not as much as previously, but Silindë was just… lovely. He treated her questions about his - their, she reminded herself firmly - people with a seriousness that made her feel less foolish for asking, and answered as concisely as he could.
The elves were dressed similarly in long, high-necked over-robes held closed with simple fabric belts. Silindë's robe was a deep, restful green embellished with subtle embroidery on the deep sleeves while Haldir's was unadorned and the material a shade of blue that for Wren brought to mind the early evening… or the King's eyes. The clothes of the Rohirrim by comparison were hardy and durable, even those worn by the nobles, and the elves stood out amongst the humans like stars in the night sky.
On their ride earlier that day, Silindë had asked Wren if she would like to learn the language of the Firstborn, adding he believed it a good idea if the half-elf was serious in her intent to visit Lothlórien . Wren had agreed with him though privately she had her doubts as to how long it would take her to become understandable let alone fluent. The elf's encouraging smile had warmed her to her toes, however, and Wren found herself carefully repeating the elven words Silindë used as he pointed out features of the landscape. He continued now, while they ate, quietly giving Wren the words for plate, knife, goblet while Haldir looked on, a small, seemingly amused smile quirking his lips.
The elves took their leave of her at the conclusion of the meal and Wren hastened away from the hall to the welcoming quiet of the now dark stables. She needed peace to assimilate the strange, musical words she'd learnt that day, and peace was something she'd not get if her inquisitive friends plied her with questions. The half-elf paused to stroke Swyftsylfren's velvety muzzle before settling herself comfortably in a corner of the stallion's stall: tomorrow would be soon enough to satisfy the curiosity of the shield maidens.
Haldir halted outside Silindë's room; the counsellor had been pensive since they'd left the hall.
"You are troubled?"
Silindë smiled.
"No... well, not truly..." He folded his hands together. "How would it be if I were to tutor Cirince? She is a most willing and able student," slim shoulders lifted in a shrug "and I have nothing else to occupy my time while I am here. Éomer King has you to advise him - I am not needed. For my learning, at any rate."
Haldir considered the idea, then nodded.
"It is an excellent notion, if she favours it."
"I will ask her on the morrow - though I believe she will be very happy to agree."
Haldir smiled.
"You will take care not to weary her overmuch, I trust?"
Silindë raised graceful hands in mock horror.
"Valar forbid! We will travel at her pace."
"I knew that you would." The advisor inclined his head, then pulled Silindë into a gentle embrace. "Sleep well, mellon nin."
Sighing, Silindë kissed him lightly but lingeringly.
"I must not keep you from your king, though I could wish you to stay... but on that other matter, I have decided. If it is your wish and the king's, I would be honoured to join you, at your request."
Haldir stroked his face.
"I will tell him." With some reluctance he released the younger elf. "Rest well, mellon nin."
Wren rhythmically smoothed the brush along the roan's flank and smiled to herself. As expected she'd been pounced on when she'd arrived at the morning's training and plied with questions about the elves. Half of the shield maidens, it seemed, harboured not-so-secret wishes about the attractive males and they were eager for details. Wren did her best to comply, being as truthful as she could and taking care not to exaggerate even though she couldn't help but be affected by her compatriots' giggling enthusiasm. Girlish daydreams aside, the group had managed, eventually, to settle down to some serious training and the allotted time passed quickly.
Silindë was waiting for Wren when the session finished: the half-elf could almost feel the weight of curiosity behind her as she went to greet him. To her delight the fair-haired male invited her to dine with him at midday, suggesting they ride to the closest of the tarns and take their meal out of doors. Wren happily accepted, only remembering she'd promised to eat with Feldag after Silindë had left. The shield maiden made a show of being aggrieved but soon laughed and declared she had no objections to being passed over as long as Wren promised to tell her all afterwards. The half-elf excused herself then, saying she may as well make herself useful in the stables, bathing later rather than now and not knowing what to do with herself in the meantime. In perfect truth though it was that Wren wanted the quiet, accepting patience of the horses in order to gather her thoughts - and review again the elven words Silindë had taught her yesterday. She was determined the elf would find no fault in her recall…
Wren slid from Avása 's back, pleased that the ride without tack this time had not been as discomfiting as previously. With a gentle word Silindë turned the horses loose to graze nearby before turning his attention to laying out the food. Wren moved to help, bashfully naming in elvish the items she had words for. Silindë's smile was warm and pleased.
"Excellent, Cirince, you've remembered well."
The girl soaked up the praise.
"Are you happy to continue with the instruction?" Silindë asked, receiving an enthusiastic nod in response.
"Could you teach me to read and write Sindarin as well?"
"Most assuredly." the elf nodded. "We can begin this afternoon if you have no other commitments."
"I had planned on spending some time with my friends…" she flushed, not wanting to seem frivolous, but Silindë only smiled.
"Then we'll begin tomorrow, if it please you, but for now," beautiful deep eyes gleamed with good humour, "do you recall the word for 'mountain'?"
Wren grinned, supplying the answer easily, and so the lesson continued…
Vëassë was not enjoying himself. He'd quickly adjusted to the physical work, and was even getting used to the dormitory all the young Riders-to-be shared, although he'd taken to resting in leggings rather than naked after the lewd comments some of the larger human youths had made about his body. Bathing was a trial - the humans didn't feel the need to bathe every day, and Aeldig was reluctant to allow it for his elven recruit, especially since Vëassë asked to be permitted to bathe alone. This had led to accusations of arrogance, that the others weren't good enough to bathe with him, which he'd tried to deny, though they refused to believe him... In truth, it was more that he wished for a little privacy. That he was also fearful of three of the youths in particular he tried to keep to himself. Bad enough that Raenulf would not stop touching him, his backside, his neck, even his ear on one occasion, but when he'd grabbed the human's hand to stop the unwelcome intimacy he'd broken two of Raenulf's fingers. Aeldig had been furious and sent him to the kitchens for three days, at the end of which his hands were raw from immersion in very hot and very cold water...
On his return Raenulf had leered at him, then blown a kiss. Vëassë ignored him, but did his best to avoid the youth from then on.
Today Aeldig had them practising swordplay. With heavy wooden swords and small but heavy wooden shields. And the captain had matched him with Raenulf.
Vëassë was gasping, his arms burning with exertion. He had never used a shield before, and was no expert with the sword in any case, but when he had used a blade it was an elvish weapon, strong and deadly but light. And Raenulf was far more proficient, his strokes sending numbing pain through the shield and up the elf's arm to the shoulder. Finally Raenulf flipped the shield away from him, forced him up against the courtyard wall, and jabbed the blunt point of the sword into Vëassë's throat - not quite hard enough to break the skin, but there would be a bruise there later. The human leaned close, leering - then bit the tip of his ear, hard.
Vëassë bit his lip to stop himself from crying out, eyes screwed up in pain, but luckily Aeldig approached, congratulating Raenulf and glaring at Vëassë , gruff voice saying something about him being a disgrace to his people... the elf hardly heard him, the pain from his ear a sheer distraction from all else. He could feel warm wetness trickling down into his hair and knew Raenulf had drawn blood.
But the captain had turned away, calling a halt to proceedings while they ate. Raenulf grabbed Vëassë's wrist and leaned in again, lips very close to the bleeding ear.
"What are you going to do, elf? Run and tell your big brother? The Captain?"
Vëassë gritted his teeth and pulled his arm from the heavy grip.
"I need no one to fight my battles for me!" he hissed. Raenulf ran a calloused finger along the edge of his throbbing ear, then pinched the tip, hard: Vëassë forced himself not to whimper.
"I'm right glad to hear that, elf. Make it easier for me when I come for you." He leered, then turned and strode off to the refectory, leaving Vëassë shaking with pain and anger. And not a little fear.
Vëassë had retreated to the stables, and was taking a moment's rest in Avása 's stall... No, he corrected himself bitterly, he was hiding here, hiding from Raenulf and his friends Thagbar and Doumal. The three of them had apparently decided to make it their life's mission to make his a misery...
He leaned against his horse, the warmth and familiar scent a much-needed relief after the day's unpleasantnesses. Such little things, too, but added together... He wondered if Silindë would agree to them leaving, immediately quashing the thought. He'd not be allowed to leave until Aeldig reported that he was 'trained', and since the Captain had obviously taken a great dislike to him, that was unlikely to be soon.
But he hadn't spoken to his brother in days - hadn't even seen him other than at a distance. A sudden overwhelming need to see a friendly - or at least not hostile - face had him heading for the guest rooms.
Silindë was reading by lamplight: he glanced up as Vëassë tapped on the door then entered.
He smiled.
It was the first smile Vëassë had seen in days and it brought a lump to his throat. Silindë beckoned him forward, indicating the chair beside his own.
"Mae govannen, muindor nin."
Vëassë managed to smile as he seated himself, noting that his brother was looking... wonderful. Relaxed, the lines of stress eased from his face. He looked happy.
"How goes it?"
The younger elf startled himself by hesitating, suddenly unwilling to do anything that might worry his brother. He nodded, choosing his words carefully.
"It is hard, but I believe I am making some progress."
"That is good to know!" Silindë laid the parchment aside and poured two flagons of ale, offering one to his brother. Vëassë sipped, then eyed Silindë curiously.
"How have things been with you?"
"Well. I am tutoring Cirince - it is a rewarding task."
"Cirince?"
Silindë eyed him narrowly.
"The peredhil you frightened when we first arrived."
Vëassë coloured. He'd been, firstly, so terrified to find the dead Haldir very much alive and furiously angry with him, then secondly so caught up in his own troubles, that he'd forgotten about the girl. No, not girl, he corrected himself, elf. Half-elf. He coloured further when he remembered his behaviour.
"I was... rude."
"More than rude, muindor nin. You frightened her, one of our own kind, and a guest in this house."
The young elf bowed his head, staring into his ale. He'd frightened her, and now knew what that felt like. It was not at all a pleasant thing.
Silindë watched his brother, frowning as silver hair slid away from his ear... There were livid marks there, on the sensitive tip... toothmarks? Had Vëassë been bitten? He reached forwards, gently brushing more hair aside to see more clearly, alarmed when Vëassë jerked away from his hand, big eyes wide and alarmed.
"How has this happened?"
Vëassë swallowed and forced a smile.
"'tis nothing. An accident while training. Do not bother yourself about it..." Silindë obviously was going to bother himself about it: Vëassë pulled a lock of hair over the injury and caught his brother's hand. "'tis naught, Silindë. Forget it."
The elder elf frowned, but reluctantly accepted Vëassë s wish. The younger elf managed a wry smile.
"I have an apology to make."
Silindë stared blankly, then frowned.
"An apology?"
"To Cirince."
Silindë blinked. Vëassë was offering, of his own free will? The counsellor had not expected this...
"You wish to apologise to Cirince? Truly?"
Vëassë nodded.
"My behaviour was... poor." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "It has been poor for a very long time."
Silindë's eyes widened - then he frowned. While this was very encouraging to hear, he couldn't help but wonder if it was Vëassë's attempt to wriggle out of his 'punishment'...
"I am pleased to hear you admit to it."
Vëassë gazed at his brother.
"Is the hour too late to speak with her now?"
"I think not." Silindë rose to his feet. "I will accompany you."
Vëassë raised a hand.
"I would rather that you not."
The counsellor paused, eyeing his brother, then nodded. Vëassë had never physically hurt anyone except in battle: he wouldn't hurt Cirince now.
"Very well. Return to me afterwards, if you please."
Fine brows furrowed, Wren was concentrating hard as she attempted to copy the few lines of elven script just so and the quiet tap on her door startled her.
"Come in." she frowned down at the inelegant splot of ink marring her work. For her pride's sake she'd need to redo this now: she could not, would not present Silindë with anything less than perfection.
Wren was still frowning when she glanced up at the slender figure stepping into her room but her expression rapidly shifted to one of alarm. She stood hastily, unconsciously preparing for flight.
Vëassë closed the door quietly, then stood just inside, hands folded in unconscious imitation of his brother, and regarded the half-elf. She looked frightened. That was his fault, he realised with an unfamiliar feeling of dismay.
He did the first thing that came to mind - dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
"Cirince peredhil... May I speak with you? Just for a moment - I will not approach you if you do not wish it..."
Wren swallowed.
"Why did you not afford me such courtesy the other day?"
Indeed, why had he not? He was silent for a long moment, then raised his head to gaze at her.
"I have... I have not been accustomed to give thought to the feelings, the wishes, of others. It was wrong of me."
"You scared me," she whispered. "Why did you not stop when I bade you to? Did you think I was in jest?"
He coloured guiltily.
"Mayhap I am too used to... coyness. Ones who refuse but as a way to tease and tempt."
"I do not understand such foolish games!" Wren gestured impatiently. "At what point would you have believed I was in earnest? Would I have had to strike you?"
One side of his mouth lifted in a wry, self-mocking half-smile.
"It would have depended on the strength and sting of your hand…" he quickly sobered, not wishing her to think he was being derisive. "I am sorry, Mistress Cirince. I have never taken another against their will. Had you resisted and I seen that you were sincere, I would not have persisted."
The half-elf drew in a shaky breath, twisting her hands before her, dark eyes troubled.
"And what if I had been too frightened to resist?"
He frowned, concerned that she was so fearful. Did she really think him such a boor?
"But… it is always obvious, from the eyes, the way of moving, of breathing, if one is truly afraid. I am not so insensitive that I would not see it."
Wren looked away.
"Would that all were so perceptive…"
... Ah...
"Mistress Cirince, can you forgive me? I do not ask for your trust, or your friendship, but... I would rather there were no bad blood between us."
Her smile was small and forced.
"I can and I will, but please, I beg of you, take more care with your future… conquests."
He inclined his head.
"I thank you for your generosity, Mistress Cirince. And I will heed your advice."
The half-elf's smile became a little warmer though her eyes were still guarded.
"Glad I am to hear it, Master Vëassë ." she shifted lightly on her feet. "And now, if you please…"
He rose to his feet and bowed slightly, hand over his heart.
"My thanks for your attention, Mistress Cirince. You are most gracious. If you will excuse me...?"
He turned and opened the door, closing it behind him quietly.
Wren held herself still for a few heartbeats then, trembling, almost collapsed back into her chair. Elbows on the rough table, she pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes for a moment, stemming the half-formed tears. Well… The peredhil shook herself, wiping at her eyes. That was done…She reached for another sheet of clean paper and, firmly setting her mind to her task, began to laboriously trace the graceful elven script.
Vëassë was pensive on his way back to Silindë's room. Wholly unused to rejection, he nevertheless found himself admiring the peredhil. In other circumstances he would consider her a challenge - but no, not her, and not here. There was a gravity to her that he found charming, though. Maybe one day they might be able to talk together. If she could find it in herself to trust him.
In the meantime... his heart sank. He had to get back to the dormitory, once he'd spoken to his brother, or he'd be in trouble with Aeldig, and he did not in the least relish another spell in the kitchens.
Silindë sought out Haldir in the early part of the afternoon, while the king was discussing trade agreements with a delegation of merchants from the Riddermark townships - something that didn't involve the advisor and in which he had no interest. The younger elf found the elder in the armoury, enquiring of the armsmaster the feasibility of crafting new hunting knives after the elven fashion. On spotting Silindë, Haldir took his leave of the gnarled human and joined his friend on the path outside. Silindë inclined his head, gesturing to the Golden Hall.
"May we speak, mellon nin?"
Haldir frowned, then nodded.
"But of course."
Silindë led the way to the pavement at the front of the hall, and stood gazing out over the plain for a moment before turning to Haldir.
"Have you yet had occasion to speak to Éomer King?"
The advisor smiled.
"I have. Éomer has said that you will be welcome at any time."
Silindë sighed quietly, happily.
"Then might I avail myself of your company tonight?"
"I can think of no reason why not." Haldir eyed the younger elf. "And the rest of your question?"
Silindë laughed.
"Am I so transparent?"
Haldir brushed a fingertip over a fair cheek.
"To me, perhaps."
Silindë nodded.
"Very well. I believe it is time for Cirince to visit Lothlórien ."
Haldir's expression became guarded.
"And you wish me to accompany you."
Silindë spread his arms wide.
"It is your home, mellon nin. Who better to guide and guard us?"
Haldir lowered his head in thought. The Lady Galadriel knew of his return, of course - she could not fail to do so - and would have told Lord Celeborn. But the rest... His unexpected return from the Halls of Mandos would set him apart from those he used to call friends. And what of his brothers? If Lady Galadriel had not told them... but that would be cruel...
Silindë took his hand.
"Please?"
Haldir gazed at him: the deep brown eyes were pleading, as hard to resist, in their way, as the king's. He bowed his head and nodded.
"Very well. But we must leave soon, and I would warn you to expect nothing. I cannot be sure of my reception..."
"Of course, mellon nin." Silindë kissed the corner of his mouth. "May I tell Cirince?"
"It would be as well. I would hope to leave within six days, if I can be spared at such short notice. It is a long way, and I would not wish to travel in inclement weather if it can be avoided."
Feldag grinned at her friend's breathless enthusiasm. Wren was beside herself with excitement!
"When do you depart?"
"In six days," Wren replied, "and there is so much to do beforehand."
"I shall miss you." Feldag said softly. Wren blinked, then smiled shyly, clasping the shield maiden to her in quick hug. The mortal girl was startled at the unaccustomed gesture - Wren was very friendly but not openly affectionate with any but the horses – then she simply relaxed and enjoyed the evidence of their friendship.
"And I shall miss you." The half-elf pulled back, dark eyes suspiciously bright.
"You will return, will you not?"
"I should think so." Wren was thoughtful. "I know not, yet, how I will be received." She bit her lip, suddenly concerned. "Oh, Feldag, what if my father's kin do not accept me?"
"Then you will return here to those that do." The shield maiden spoke firmly, reaching to caress the half-elf's smooth cheek with her thumb. Wren gave the appearance of being about to burst into tears but she mastered herself, smiling brightly at her friend.
"I have yet to witness your marriage. I would not willingly miss that!"
Feldag threw back her head and laughed.
"And indeed I would refuse to wed without you to attend me!"
The young females grinned at each other for a moment longer then Wren lifted a shoulder in apology.
"I must go. I have much to see to."
"Aye." Feldag replied. "Would you sit with me for the evening meal? I'd like to make the most of your company while I have it."
"Of course." Wren smiled as she sprang up. "We shall meet later…"
Éomer was pacing, brows drawn together, hands clasped behind his back. Haldir sat on the edge of their bed, watching him resignedly.
"I do not wish you to go."
The elf sighed silently. He should have expected this.
"Sire..."
Éomer raised a hand.
"I do not wish you to go - but I will not, cannot, stop you."
Haldir blinked.
"Éomer?"
"Love is not love that keeps the loved one captive. I do not take you for granted, meleth nin, nor would I try to hold you against your will."
... Of course. Éomer was afraid his elf would not return from the Golden Wood. It was the elf's real home, after all. Haldir smiled, rose, and pulled the king into a tight embrace.
"Melethron, it is my choice, my will, to stay with you. We journey that Cirince may meet her family - though I do admit, I have a desire to see my brothers again. If they are still there." he added as a somewhat discouraged afterthought: he had no knowledge of what had befallen Orophin and Rúmil after the war. Éomer kissed him soundly.
"I will not be selfish - though I will miss you. When do you plan to leave?"
"In six days, if it does not inconvenience you."
Six days. Far too short a time to show his elf how much he was desired, cherished, loved... But it would have to do. He managed a smile.
"It will not. When will you return?"
"Before the winter. In autumn, if it is possible."
... such a long time...
"I will miss you."
Haldir pulled him closer.
"And I will miss you. But I will return, and soon."
Éomer sighed - then pulled back a little as a knock came on the door. Frowning, he called, "Enter."
Silindë stepped into the room, his smile soft and warm, and Éomer's eyes widened. He glanced at Haldir, who smirked.
"At your request, sire."
Éomer gazed at the younger elf for long moments, then swallowed hard and extended a hand.
"You are most welcome, Master Silindë."
The elf took his hand, then looked to Haldir.
"He is most gracious."
"He is a delight - and very skilled. Now."
The counsellor laughed and pulled Éomer to him, embracing him lightly, smiling at Haldir.
"How shall we proceed?"
The advisor inclined his head, considering the question, then beckoned Silindë to the bed.
"Perhaps Éomer King would like to watch for a space..."
The human's eyes widened hugely, the flesh at his groin suddenly hardening. Haldir's smile was feline, his eyes half-closed and hooded as he unfastened his tunic and let it slide from his shoulders. Silindë shivered and moved away from the king, shedding his own tunics as he loped slowly towards the bed. Sliding one knee onto the fur cover, he rested both hands on the pale skin of Haldir's shoulders and brushed the tip of a pointed ear with his lips.
"This will be acceptable to him?" It was breathed almost too quietly for Haldir to hear. The advisor nodded, elegant fingers trailing down Silindë's chest, scratching lightly at a peaked nipple before coming to rest on the bulge at his groin. The counsellor moaned and licked Haldir's ear: the elder elf shuddered and fell gracefully back onto the bed, pulling Silindë atop his muscular body. The counsellor took the tip of Haldir's ear between his lips, suckling gently, chuckling quietly when the larger elf gasped and grabbed his shoulders. Éomer licked dry lips: the outline of Haldir's straining erection was quite clear through his leggings...
Silindë slid a hand downwards, tugging at the laces then sliding the leggings down Haldir's thighs, hand briefly caressing the rigid flesh revealed, then moving back for a moment to pull the soft fabric completely from the long legs. Naked, Haldir reached for Silindë's waist, but the younger elf evaded his hands, wriggling out of boots and leggings in one smooth and oddly graceful movement then sinking back against the advisor...
Éomer whimpered silently, unblinking stare fixed on the two elegant pale forms on the bed, silver-pale and sun-coloured hair mingling on the grey furs, graceful hands entwined - and two heavy, rigid columns of pale rosy flesh brushing against each other at their loins.
The king dragged off his clothing, ignoring the tearing sound of the fabric, and climbed onto the bed, reaching between their bodies to wrap both erections in a strong hand, smirking at the twin gasps as they bucked into his grasp. Elbowing a little room between the muscled abdomens he flicked his tongue over the heads of both weeping organs, earning himself a strangled groan from Haldir and what would - had he been human - have been a squeak from Silindë. He slid up to nuzzle his elf, hand fondling the flesh he held.
"What do you do, together?"
Panting, Haldir managed to smile.
"Shall... we show... you?"
Éomer chuckled quietly.
"It would be my pleasure to watch..."
"Then... you must... release us, my king..."
Éomer reluctantly pulled his hand away, and Haldir rolled himself and Silindë over, so that the counsellor was lying beneath him. As Silindë spread his thighs widely, knees raised to make way for the advisor, Éomer licked his lips - groaning in yearning empathy as Haldir eased his way into the younger elf. Silindë's face was flushed, eyes closed, lips parted, back arched - the very picture of ecstasy... For the first time Éomer wondered what it might feel like to be penetrated...
Haldir's hips began to rock, his flesh spearing Silindë rhythmically... Silindë's legs wrapped his lover's waist, his lips eagerly seeking Haldir's... Éomer groaned. So beautiful. The elves seemed to be shining in the muted light, a bright, sparkling radiance around and over them... Haldir's thighs and buttocks clenched as he climaxed, Silindë gasping, his own release fuelled by the sensations deep within...
As the elves slowly relaxed the king stroked Haldir's back, his hand shaking slightly, so aroused he was in pain. His elf glanced at him, smirking over one shoulder.
"Would my king care to join us?"
Éomer pulled him onto his side - and Silindë with him, since he was still inside the counsellor's body - slicked a little of Silindë's spilt seed onto his own organ, then pushed slowly into Haldir, one hand reaching to cup the counsellor's backside, kneading the smooth, taut muscle gently, gently nipping at Haldir's eartip...
He grinned as Silindë's eyes widened: it would appear that Haldir was aroused again... Driving into his elf, his thrusts forcing Haldir into Silindë, the younger elf's hand tangled in his hair, for a while he forgot his status, his realm, and was Éomer again, young, filled with the joy of new discoveries, making love to his elf in the Golden Wood...
Silindë cried out as he came a second time, mouth seeking Haldir's in a frenzied kiss: Haldir gasped as the king climaxed within him, then also came, shuddering, Silindë before him, Éomer at his back, satisfied beyond anything he had ever known.
"Mmmmm." Éomer roused himself from where he'd curled around Haldir, his body humming in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm he could remember. He pressed a kiss to Haldir's neck, then reached to stroke Silindë's face.
"So beautiful... You are both so beautiful..."
The counsellor smiled sleepily at him, then wriggled slightly, legs sliding down to lie along Haldir's body as the advisor slid wetly from his body. One elegant hand cupped the king's face over Haldir's shoulder.
"Éomer King... I am honoured."
The human sighed happily as Haldir stirred between them, twisting to lie on his back and glancing from one to the other, smile serene.
"We are both honoured..."
Éomer kissed his cheek - then yawned.
"Ai, you have tired me!"
Silindë laughed.
"Ah... your pardon, sire! We will try not to do so again."
Éomer raised an eyebrow.
"'twas not a complaint. And do I take that to mean you would be happy to share with us again?"
"'twould be a pleasure and a delight." Silindë squirmed out of Haldir's embrace and made to sit up - prevented by Éomer's hand in his hair.
"And where do you think you are going, Master Elf?"
Silindë blinked.
"To my own room, sire. I trust you and Haldir need to rest..."
"As do you. Please, sleep with us."
Silindë glanced at Haldir, who nodded.
"It would make the night complete, mellon nin."
His smile bright in the dim room, Silindë nodded, snuggling back down to rest his head on Haldir's shoulder.
Éomer kept his face calm - but his eyes were already lonely.
"I will miss you."
Haldir kissed him gently. Silindë had joined them for five blissful nights, but this night just past Éomer had kept solely for them, and Haldir had been a little alarmed at the fervency of his human's lovemaking: the king had taken him again and again, until he was sated and aching. Almost as though Éomer expected never to see him again, and wished to learn every last part of him to keep him close in memory...
"I will miss you, meleth nin. But I will return, and soon."
"I will count the days." Éomer held him tightly unwilling to let him go - then sighed and cupped his face in both hands. Behind his advisor Silindë and Wren, already mounted and ready, stood waiting.
"Safe journey, meleth nin. And good fortune attend you."
Haldir traced his features with a fingertip, then brushed a kiss over his lips.
"My thanks, my king..."
He swung himself up onto his horse, leading the way down onto the plain - pausing at the gate for a last wave to the forlorn figure standing at the steps of the Golden Hall.
It wasn't until their shapes had vanished into the distance that the king realised Haldir had called him 'love'.
Silindë had been gone for eight days, and the atmosphere in the dormitory had grown more... threatening was the only way Vëassë could describe it. It wasn't so bad when they were all training, but at other times... The snide remarks, the leers, the touches... He wished he could confide in someone. Anyone. Even Haldir. But he was alone now.
It had been a long day, up before dawn, hard training all day, kitchen duty then cleaning the stables again. He wasn't quite sure what he'd done this time to warrant such treatment - though to be fair, a couple of the other young Riders-to-be had been seconded to help him, most reluctantly and obviously blaming him for what they saw as punishment. But by the time he'd lain down he had been exhausted, truly exhausted - otherwise he'd have been aware of the bodies moving stealthily through the dormitory. As it was, the first he knew of it was when calloused hands grabbed his arms and legs roughly, holding him down on the bed. As he opened his mouth to cry out, a bundled-up rag was stuffed between his lips and tied in place, reducing his cries to muffled whimpers. As he struggled to see who his attackers were, someone tied another strip of cloth around his eyes, tightly, so he could see nothing...
"Take him outside. To the stables. There's an empty stall there..."
Panicking, he tried to fight, but there were far too many of them. He had the jumbled impressions of cold night air on his half-naked body, the sniggers of the youths holding him, and the loathsome feel of rough hands touching him, intimate strokes and pinches... Bile rising in his throat, he tried to scream...
He landed on his back on rough straw, and immediately hands caught his arms and legs, pulling them wide into a cross shape and holding him down. He froze as he heard the sound of a knife being drawn - second later his leggings were half-cut, half-ripped from his shaking body. Fingers stroked down his chest, strong, jagged nails pinching a nipple viciously and making him yelp almost soundlessly behind the gag.
The hand scratched slowly down to his groin, tugging sadistically at his flaccid organ then pinching and squeezing the balls behind it, bringing tears of pain to Vëassë's eyes behind the blindfold. He shook his head helplessly, suddenly desperately afraid.
No one knew he was here. There was no-one to help him.
Rough laughter. He thought he recognised the voice - for all the good it would do him.
"Pretty. Very very pretty. Who wants to go first?"
"Aye! Me!" That was Thagbar, he was sure of it. Then a large hand slapped down viciously hard and heavily on his groin and the elf nearly passed out with the agony of it. The others seemed to find this highly amusing.
"Aye, you may. There's enough for us all."
Another voice, this one a little uncertain.
"Is it true that they die if you... y'know - take 'em against their will?"
A second's silence, then the first voice, scornful.
"'tis just a tale made up to protect their precious virtue."
Vëassë heard clothing being removed, then his legs were pulled even wider and bent at the knee. He smelt the oil that was used to keep the tack supple, then a greasy, oily hand slapped between his legs, smearing the stuff over his skin. He whimpered and twisted as a finger tried to gain entrance to his body, eliciting coarse laughter.
"'tis a virgin! 'ods' blood, never thought an elf'd be one of them!"
A brief silence, then Raenulf's voice.
"Then I'll take him first. 'twill be a special prize..."
He felt a heavy body settle between his legs, and something hard and blunt pressing against him, and stopped struggling, his body going limp as faintness washed through him. He'd not survive this.
A confusion of noises, and the hands pressing brutally down on his arms and legs and shoulders and hips were gone. It took him a moment to realise it, then he shuffled backwards as far as he could, brought up sharply against the stall wall. He curled up tightly, shaking like an autumn leaf in a high wind, hands trembling too much to remove the gag and blindfold. After a few moments' noise and shouting - that was Aeldig, surely? - and movement he felt a large calloused hand lightly on his shoulder.
"Are you with us, lad?"
Aeldig's gruff voice. Vëassë was shaking too much to reply, and the captain untied and removed the fabric that had kept him blind and voiceless. The man was frowning.
"It's done with. Get your clothes on."
Light-headed and terrified, the elf tried to obey, but his hands shook too much to do more than pull the torn leggings to his groin, covering himself. Aeldig gestured to him to rise.
"Come with me."
Hauling himself up by the carvings on the wall, Vëassë limped after the striding captain, one hand holding his leggings to his body, the other wrapped around his belly, not knowing where he was going, still in a state of shock. But after a few minutes he found himself before a warm fire, and a strong hand pushed him down to sit before the hearth. Moments later a beaker was thrust into his shaking hands.
"Drink it. 'twill help."
He somehow managed to lift the beaker to his lips, spluttering as the strong ale burned its way down his dry throat. After a moment he struggled to raise his head, and found Aeldig gazing at him, face impassive.
"You'll sleep here tonight. You'll be safe." He added as Vëassë paled even further and shrank away from him. "I've no interest in you. And tomorrow... we'll see what's what."
The captain stood and, moving slowly and deliberately, unrolled a thick, comfortable bedroll by the fire, gesturing to it. Then he paused and frowned.
"D'you want to bathe, Master Elf?"
Yes, he wanted to bathe. He felt filthy... defiled. But he didn't think he had the strength to walk to the bathing chamber, let alone clean himself once he got there. He shook his head, and Aeldig pursed his lips.
"Aye, 'tis a bit late for that. Maybe tomorrow. Do you need anything else?"
He just managed to make out the faint reply.
"N... no..."
"Then I'll bid you good night." The big man moved to his own bed, against the wall and some distance from the hearth, and efficiently got himself ready to sleep. Seeing Vëassë's eyes on him he nodded. "I'm here, should you need aught. But I don't want to be disturbed, so try not to."
He clambered into his bed and turned his back, leaving the elf to crawl to his roll and lie shaking and wakeful, silent tears streaming down his face.
It was morning, but Vëassë wasn't aware of it.
He wanted Silindë. His brother always made everything all right.
He wanted Silindë to hold him, to soothe him, to talk to him, not in this clumsy Westron tongue, but their own speech... He wanted to feel safe again...
He wasn't aware of the door opening as the king arrived. Aeldig gestured to the elf, sitting bundled up under a fur by the hearth and rocking slightly, his eyes wide and unfocussed. Éomer frowned.
"What happened."
Aeldig looked distinctly uneasy.
"Last night, sire... some of the lads thought it might be fun to... They tried to..."
The king paled, eyes widening with horror.
"They didn't...? Gods' sakes, Aeldig, tell me they didn't..."
"I don't know, sire! I can't get any sense out of the lad!"
Éomer eyed the pale form, then walked slowly forwards, pausing as Vëassë looked up at him and whimpered, shrinking back in fear. He knelt, then moved forwards on hands and knees until he was beside the traumatised elf.
"Vëassë? I won't hurt you. You know me. I would never, ever hurt one of your people."
No response. Éomer seated himself and eyed the elf worriedly. For a moment he debated calling for the healers, but if the elf had been raped, subjecting him to any sort of examination would most certainly not make the situation any better... he tentatively reached forward, gritting his teeth when Vëassë flinched and pulled back.
If only Silindë, or Haldir, were here.
But they weren't, and he'd have to deal with this himself. Taking a deep breath, he moved a little closer and pulled Vëassë into his arms.
The elf screamed, then thrashed wildly, trying to escape. Éomer held him firm, distantly surprised that he was able to do so: Vëassë must be hurt to be so weak. He struggled to pull the elf's head down to his shoulder so he could stroke the silver hair, and finally, fighting all the way, Vëassë stilled and broke into silent, desperate sobs that shook his whole body.
"Shhh... mellon nin... meleth... I won't let anyone hurt you..." Éomer glanced up at Aeldig, hovering anxiously nearby. "Captain, why don't you go and see if you can discover who has done this?"
Saluting grimly, Aeldig stalked out of his quarters, furious with himself as much as his young Riders. Yes, he'd told them to make life difficult for the elf - but he hadn't told them how far they could go. And this - this was far beyond what he would ever have countenanced. He shuddered, eyes closing. If any lasting harm had come to the elf...
Éomer held Vëassë close, stroking the soft hair, rocking gently, and after a while Vëassë's sobs lessened, the tension in his slim body loosened a little. The king pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead, then - taking a deep breath - asked,
"Forgive me, Vëassë , but I must ask... Last night..." He paused, wondering how to phrase it. "Did they..." He faltered. But there was no easy way to say it.
Vëassë shook his head - and Éomer pulled back just far enough to look down into his face.
"They didn't?"
Shaking, the elf drew a trembling breath.
"Ael... Aeldig arrived before... But..." Vëassë shivered, eyes wide, and Éomer almost collapsed with relief. He hugged the elf gently.
"'tis over now. I'll never let the like happen again." Fingertips under Vëassë 's chin, he tilted the elf's face up to his, alarmed by the lost expression in the big eyes. "And those responsible will be punished." He ran a finger down the smooth cheek: Vëassë flinched away, and Éomer frowned. "Come now, Master Elf, 'tis over and no harm done."
Vëassë stared at him for a moment, the realisation that the human simply had no idea of the gravity of what had happened - and what could have happened - a cold reality within him, then closed his eyes miserably.
"I would like to bathe, if it's allowed."
Éomer blinked, then smiled.
"Of course 'tis!" He slid out of his own over-robe and draped it around Vëassë 's slim shoulders. "I'll walk you there."
The elf struggled upright, refusing the king's help, wincing as he caught sight of the livid bruises on his pale skin, then pulled the robe tightly around him. He kept his head lowered as he followed Éomer, aware of the curious glances he was attracting, heart sinking wretchedly at the knowledge that in such a small, close-knit settlement, the news would have spread to all by now. He wouldn't even be allowed a small measure of anonymity.
Éomer paused at the door to the bathing chamber, eyeing the elf anxiously.
"Do you wish me to stay?"
Vëassë shook his head. All he wanted now was to wash, then crawl into a hole somewhere and stay there. Éomer nodded.
"Then I'll take my leave. I'll have fresh clothing sent to you."
"Thank you." The voice was quiet, dulled, and the king frowned. It might be as well if he were to have someone stay within reach of the elf for a time, in case of need. And it had best not, perhaps, be one of the young men. Perhaps one of Aeldig's daughters might be willing.
As the door to the chamber closed, he strode off to find the Captain.
There was an air of simmering anger in the courtyard, and several of the young men sported bloody faces and bruises. Aeldig had, it would appear, just finished doling out his own brand of retribution: his head turned as he saw the king, and he saluted. As did the rest of the company, somewhat raggedly, and without meeting his eyes. Éomer gestured to Aeldig to approach.
"He was not violated, thank the gods and your good hearing. He is bathing - but I would someone be with him. I do not trust his mood."
Aeldig growled.
"He's not some maiden, to be so weak-hearted!"
"No, but he is an elf, and who's to say what effect such a thing might have upon him? And he's a guest, besides."
The captain nodded resignedly.
"Aye, there's that. And I might not like the lad, but to have this happen here, under my command... 'tis a shameful thing."
Éomer clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"I am glad your thoughts run with mine!" he paused for a moment, eyeing the assembly. "Would your daughter be willing?"
"'tis not likely, but I will tell her what has happened. Her honour will demand it of her."
"Thank you."
"'tis the least I can do, sire."
Feldag's jaw tightened at the request but she nodded curtly. She had no fondness for the elf but as he'd come to grief at the hands of her people it was the least she could do to repair the breach in the Rohirrim honour... Grumbling, she made her way to the bathing chamber, Vëassë 's fresh clothing draped over one arm. At the door she knocked loudly, then entered, peering through the steam, eyes wide in the dim light.
"Master Elf?" Her voice was curt, irritated. There was no answer, and she frowned. Had he left already?
"Master Elf, are you here?"
A faint splashing sound, and she saw him, curled in on himself at the far side of the big tub, his hair hiding his face. She smiled grimly - was he embarrassed? Good! High time he knew how it felt! She marched to the side of the tub and tapped his shoulder, hand jerking back as he recoiled with a whimper. Frowning, she crouched down, eyes narrowing as she saw the bruises on his fair skin, on his shoulders and arms. Her father had told her what had happened to the elf, and while she was in part understanding - no one should suffer such an attack - she could not help but feel he was well paid for his own actions... But those bruises...
He looked up into her face, and she bit her lip. Miserable, frightened - vulnerable... She coughed, then forced a smile, her voice softening.
"I've brought your clothes, Master Elf. Would you get out now?"
He flinched, then took a deep breath, nodding. Feldag laid aside his clothing and reached for a drying cloth, eyes widening as she saw the other bruises when he stood, wrapping the cloth around him. She grabbed his forearm as he wobbled, steadying him despite his attempts to pull away, frowning to herself. This wasn't right, she should not be able to hold him against his will...
"Shall I wait outside while you dress, Master Elf? Aye, I will." She answered herself as big eyes flickered to her in mute appeal. "Don't tarry - 'tis cold today."
She watched as he curled up on the bed, still shivering. He'd not yet said a word, and it troubled her.
"I'll fetch some food for you." At the lack of response she shrugged, worried and annoyed, and annoyed with herself for feeling both. "Well, I'm hungry, and I'll eat here with you."
She closed the door quietly behind her, thinking that her father had been right to order the elf back to the room he shared with his brother. She couldn't imagine him back in the dormitory, with the humans who'd reduced him to this state.
A little later, walking back to the guest room with two bowls of stew in her hands, she paused for a moment, something Wren had said coming back to her. Silindë had been teaching her about elves, about her father's people, and he'd told her that they all had a deep love of trees. That they felt - renewed when they were within a forest. Didn't Vëassë come from a forest? Perhaps he'd feel better if he had trees around him.
There was a wood that Haldir loved, she knew, from her father's half exasperated, half-affectionate words whenever the advisor wanted to ride there - it cost him a Rider for a day, since the king wouldn't let the elf ride unaccompanied. Perhaps someone could take Vëassë there. She'd speak to her father, later. In the meantime...
Vëassë accepted the bowl with a subdued "thank you". He ate little, but he did at least eat, she noted from her position on the edge of the bed. But it was an awkward meal; she didn't know what to say, and was very glad when he laid aside the half-full bowl and lay down again, pulling the cover up over his shoulders.
"Aye, sleep's what you need most now. I'll be back later." She stood and retrieved the bowls, glancing back worriedly from the door as she left the room, noting silently that there was a guard positioned outside. Frowning to herself, she left the bowls at the kitchen and went in search of her father.
Half an hour later she was walking slowly back to the guest room, deep in thought. She'd had no idea of the status of their guests! Silindë was an elf king's counsellor? And Vëassë was his brother... That made them both nobles, in her mind. The gravity of the situation, of what had happened, alarmed her - though it also explained some of Vëassë's attitude. Explained, not excused, she reminded herself grimly. But Aeldig had admitted, on her insisting, that to his limited knowledge the younger elf's exploits had never sunk to violence against any of his...willing victims. She couldn't remember Wren saying anything about either of the brothers hurting others... But Wren hadn't said much about their personal lives, and Feldag suspected the subject simply had not been discussed.
What was she to do? She had no experience in these matters!
At least Aeldig had agreed with her about the wood. He'd said he'd speak to the king and have it arranged. Would she go too? She couldn't say nay, she'd agreed to tend to the elf. And she was curious. Yes, she'd accompany them.
It ought to be as soon as possible, though, she decided as she let herself into the guest room to see Vëassë huddled up on the bed, flinching as she stepped through the doorway. This... dread wasn't natural, wasn't right, and she wanted to see the elf back to his normal, obnoxious self as soon as possible.
© 2004 November 29th Joules and Lutra
© 2004 WaveWrights
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