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A liaison in the Great Greenwood	By : Azukiel Category: +Third Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 7953 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any copyright to the Tolkien/ Middle-Earth fandom, nor to any of his canon characters or languages. I do not make any money from this fanfiction. Original characters however, are my property.

Chapter List
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Adlanniel looked out towards the East, where her beloved ellyn were fighting for the freedoms of Arda. They were too far away, and the encroaching storm too dark for her to be able to make out vivid details of what was happening. Yet the gwanûn within her tumbled and churned uncomfortably at the sense of foreboding that continued to engulf her. The dread was so strong now, yet she had no way of knowing if anything had happened to her flaxen haired ellyn, at least not yet.
Sighing, she sat herself upon a gleaming rock at the overlook where she were, and sat in silence as she continued to watch the battle unfold, despite the rain that was now pelting down upon her.
"Hiril vuin!" Came a sudden voice of despair and worry from behind her. Turning around, her body feeling heavy and her eyes still slightly dazed, she saw Lindir, her father's butler, running up to her, a long coat held over his head from the rain.
"What in the name of Arda are you doing out here in the pouring rain?" He huffed as he reached her, immediately pulling her to be close to his body so that he could shield her with his coat. "It is freezing out here hiril vuin, please come inside at once!" The tone of his voice was not a request, and she followed him willingly without a word.

"What were you doing out there in the elements Adlanniel?" Lindir's voice was now paternally stern as he rummaged through her trunk in search of some dry clothes for her to wear. "If you were a human and were to catch a cold, your father - and the others no less - would kill me for being so irresponsible."
"It is not your fault but my own." Adlanniel replied, her voice low. "I just could not bare sitting here, not knowing how our ellyn fare. It has been unbearable since they all left." Cruel tears began to sting at her eyes once more.
Sighing, Lindir took the coat from his charge and handed her a large, cotton towel. "I understand your feeling, hiril vuin, but you must think of your gwanûn." He urged her.
"I know..." She stifled a sob with her sleeve.
Wiping her tears away with a handkerchief, Lindir then moved behind her to assist her in undoing the ties of her dress. "I can feel it too, hiril vuin, the dread that you feel. However, we must have stay strong for them. We must be the pillar for them to lean upon once they return." He left her dress hanging loosely upon her shoulders so that she may undress on her own. "Take off all your clothes and put these ones on." He motioned to the clothes he had pulled out of her trunk then. "So then I may dry and brush you hair and then prepare some supper."

"You do not have to go to so much trouble." She replied as she began to take off her dress, Lindir quickly turning around so as not to look at her.
"I would not be a very good butler if I did not take care of my charge, now would I?" He replied, chuckling softly.
"Still..." Adlanniel continued, as she then began to dry off her body with the towel he had given her. “Do not fuss over me so much...Could you please pass me those undergarments?”
“Of course I am going to fuss over you Adlanniel, I have been helping to care for you since you were born….here.” He passed the requested garments behind him.
“I appreciate your courtesy Lindir, but it is not like you have never seen me naked before.”
Her words made him flush red.
“Well, hiril vuin, you were an elfling back then. Not a grown elleth.”
“True.” She began to chuckle at the expense of his embarrassment.
“But surely you have seen an elleth naked before?” She questioned casually.
When he did not answer, she turned her head back to look at him, pulling on her undergarments as she did so.
“Oh come now my friend, I've always shared my secrets with you. Tell me, is there a special elleth in you life now?”
“Well…” He hesitated as he shifted on his feet.
Adlanniel took him by a shoulder and spun him around, only for him to blush brightly and downcast his gaze, yet doing so his eyes fell upon his lady’s plump cleavage and he quickly turned his eyes away and flushed once more.
“H...hiril vuin….” He stuttered nervously.
“So there is not?” She asked, seeing how nervous he was now, especially after having caught a glimpse of her breasts.
“No...it is not that….”
“Oh, so there is a special lady!” Adlanniel quipped excitedly. “I do not receive so much news from Imladris now, so please tell me!”
“Well....there is...I am still not used to seeing…” He cleared his throat. “The female anatomy in such detail.”
Adlanniel could not help but chuckle, and to tease him once more she pushed her breasts together and looked down at them, innocently. “What? These jiggly things?”
Lindir paled and then blushed again, suddenly taken off guard. “Yes, those ‘jiggly things’ as you so eloquently put it.”
“I am sure they are not the only part of the female anatomy that you have seen.” She grinned slyly as she pulled up her dress.

“Perhaps.” He grinned back, and they both began to chuckle together.
“Perhaps?” Adlanniel repeated after a few more moments of laughter. “So you have bedded her?” Her voice was as sweet as honey.
“I shall not say that I have, and I shall not say that I have not.” He replied, albeit defensively.
“You have!” Adlanniel giggled as she punched him lightly in the shoulder.
“All I will say is that I like her very much. Now that is the end of this topic.” He turned Adlanniel around on the spot to cover her with her winter fur cloak. “Now be seated whilst I prepare some supper.” He ordered her.
“Yes, Aran Lindir.” Her reply dripped with sarcasm, making Lindir raise an eyebrow at her.
“And what did you mean by that Adlanniel?”
“You sounded strict, like him.” She mumbled.
“Well it would be best if you do not insult the Elvenking, even in jest. He has his reasons for being who he is.”
“Yes, Lindir, I know.” She sighed, defeated.
“And you best do as you are told from now on. You know we all have your health and safety at heart.”
“But not entirely my happiness.” She muttered under her breath, but the butler heard her well enough.
“In times like these, hiril vuin, we are all deprived of happiness. Yet we have to pull each other through. That is why I am here with you, and not your father. Now chin up, and eat this venison stew. It will warm you up and make the gwanûn feel satisfied.”
Thanking him gratefully, she took the bowl and crusty bread and began to eat. The smell was divine and the taste was like it were food sent down by the Valar themselves. Yet she could not fully enjoy it, for some horrid dread began to stir within her stomach again. She had not realised her hands had begun to tremble until Lindir spoke up.
“My lady, your hand.... Are you alright?” His voice was full of worry.
Adlanniel looked down at her hands, partially dazed, yet she did not reply. The flash of a severe scar crossed her sight; arrowheads embedded in flesh, flaxen hair, glimmering armour.
Without warning she fled out of the tent, dropping her spoon onto the rugs underfoot as she did. “Hiril vuin!” Lindir called out to her frantically, but to no avail. The guards by her tent were taken off guard as she ran by them, but immediately made chase and were able to capture her by the arms.

“Let me go!” She cried as she tried to shove them out of the way.
“Calm yourself, hiril vuin!” The guard that was holding her ordered to no avail.
“I must go to them...I must go to them!” She cried out as Lindir caught up with them and wrapped his arms around her tightly once more, nodding to the guard to let her go.
“What have you seen Adlanniel?”
“My vision….” She sobbed. “One of them....please let me go.”
“You know they would not want that, hiril vuin, not with your pregnancy and the risk of putting the gwanûn and yourself in danger. Come back to the tent and we can talk about it.”
“But…”
“No buts, hiril vuin, I am sure your father is taking care of everyone. Please, come back to the tent with me.” Lindir pleaded with her, one last time. Reluctantly, dropping her head, she nodded without a word and began to follow the ellyn back to the tent. The guards trailed behind her to prevent her from trying to run away again, yet she had no will power to do so now. Slouching back onto her sofa, her mind immediately began to drift; drift into a wide plain once green and lush but now trodden and drenched wet in crimson.

The fighting was vicious, as steel clanged and scraped upon iron. The screams and groans of the dying and debilitated were all around. Whinnying of horses, trumpeting of Mûmakil , shouts and curses all surrounded her. The battlefield was an intense mess of flayed flesh, and cleaved limbs. Suddenly the glimmer of gold and silver caught her eye. As she turned, she saw her beloved Elvenking collapse, her dear prince trying desperately to crawl to him, her uncle running towards them desperately. Yet then her vision sped forward and the march of the survivors was before her very eyes. They were bloodied, battered and weary as they sludged along through the mixture of mud, snow and ice. The war machines had been mostly dismantled now to make it easier for the tired oxen and horses to drag them through the slush. The Elvenking was now being carried in a used munitions cart. He was deathly pale as Legolas sat beside him, cradling his father’s head in his arms. Tears began to flow down her cheeks when she could not see if he were alive or indeed truly slain like had been predicted by her dream. But then suddenly he began calling to her.
“Adlanniel….Adlanniel….”

“Adlanniel! Are you still with me? Lady Adlanniel!?” She was given a hard shake then, snapping her out of her state. When she regained her senses, she saw a very worried Lindir before her.
“Oh Lindir, it were Thranduil!” She wailed as she fell into his arms. “And Legolas has been seriously hurt too. But he is alive….but Thranduil….I do not know if he yet lives...he was so deathly pale...by the Valar!” She bawled against him. Lindir looked up at the entrance of the tent and gazed at the guard that was staring back at him in a daze after having overheard his mistress’s words.
For her sake and the sake of her babies, Lindir knew he had to bring some form of comfort to her. “Hiril vuin, we cannot be certain until they return, but I am sure his majesty is still with the living. I can still feel his energy, though it is waning. Once they return here your father will do all he can to bring the king back to the light.”
“Why cannot I feel his energy anymore?” She sobbed as she looked up into Lindir’s walnut eyes.
“You are too distraught hiril vuin.” He replied truthfully. “Once you have calmed, I am sure you can sense it again.”
“Are you sure you can feel him? Or are you just saying that to keep my hopes up?”
“Now why would I lie about something like that?” Lindir gave a slight frown.
“Goheno nin.” She sobbed once more into his shoulder.
“It is alright, hiril vuin. You are worried to death about them. I understand that of course. Now come, finish your supper and and allow me to brush your hair.” His tone now soothed.

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The frost of the squall now bit sharply at his face and fingers as he and Glorfindel tried desperately to cover the frail king from the elements that blew in through the carriage’s makeshift cover.
“The Valar have cursed us!” Legolas spat angrily, as he pulled the furs over his father and tried better to cover himself from the biting wind.
“It appears they may have.” Glorfindel agreed. “Yet we best not curse them lest they release Melkor from his bondage. Rest assured, you'll be in the warmth of Adlanniel’s arms soon enough.”
Legolas could not help but think of being in a different position with her then, which made him flush against the snow.
Haldir, having been sitting beside them, overheard their conversation. “At least you both have someone to warm your beds.” He appeared to mumble to himself.
“Can I sense a hint of jealousy coming from you, Haldir?” Glorfindel asked over the squeal of the wind. Yet, the March Warden gave no reply and continued to huddle against the Elvenkind in an attempt to give him warmth.
“I will send someone your way to help wash away the sorrows.” Glorfindel offered.
A small, yet coy laugh escaped Haldir’s lips then, but he continued to remain in an embarrassed silence.
Suddenly a light rapping could be heard on their makeshift cart. Peering out, Glorfindel was able to see it were Adlanniel’s father, Lord Elrond, riding his mount beside them, both horse and master looking just as cold.
“I came to see that all is well here.” He began, leaning forward to pull a winter cover up over his steed’s neck a little higher.
“Besides freezing our balls off, we are fine.” The Golden Haired Warrior replied.
“I will not argue about that.” Lord Elrond agreed. “And the king?”
“He is still unconscious, and weakening. The magic that hid his scars is fading quickly and I am running out of bandages to cover them.
Elrond nodded in acknowledgement before turning to the downtrodden prince.
“And you, cund vuin, how do you fare? Is the pain in your chest and arm at least more bearable after the concoction I gave you and the poultice I applied?”
Legolas gave a slight nod. “The pain is bearable for now, I thank you for your help and for saving my adar.”
“I will bring you more medicine shortly. Glorfindel and Haldir, keep the king’s scars covered the best you can. I will return hence with more bandages as well.” And without another word he turned his steed and cantered off through the snow and sleet.
Just as he vanished, the Elvenking coughed and groaned, twisting in his delirium. Both Haldir and Glorfindel had difficulties holding him down in such a cramped space.
“A...Adar?” Legolas moved closer in a hope that his father had regained at least some form of consciousness. But only one word was breathing from his greyed lips. As Legolas leant in to hear it, it would be a name Legolas would never forget.

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Sindarin Elvish - English
ellyn - plural form of ellon, elven male
gwanûn - twins
hiril vuin - beloved lady
elleth - elven female
aran - king
Goheno nin - I am sorry
Adar - father
Cund vuin - my prince
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A liaison in the Great Greenwood