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Greenleaf & Imladris 22-Bereth:To Have and To Hold	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3386 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter VII: Snare

They came to a rocky trail that made riding difficult. Their horses were hard-pressed to keep from stumbling as large loose pebbles constantly gave way under their hooves. Dismounting. they led their steeds along the narrow track, gingerly guiding the understandably skittish animals. At length the path began to climb up a steep incline and they were perforce compelled to take turns ascending it.

Elladan went first with his mount followed by Gimli. Elrohir was just moving forward, coaxing his horse along, when Legolas stopped him.

The archer had been brooding all morning, feeling his mate’s reticence more sharply than ever. Elrohir had briefly opened up to him just two evenings ago but had since retreated behind his taciturnity anon. It grated on Legolas’ nerves, unused as he was to being cut off from the Elf-knight’s loving regard. It had come to a point where he could no longer hold his tongue.

Furthermore, a vague foreboding had been steadily growing within him. Like all his kindred, he possessed to some degree the gift of foresight. While not as blessed as those of Elrond’s house, he could and did sense when good or ill was in the offing. Now was one of those instances and though the twins did not seem to feel as he did, he was convinced trouble lurked close by.

He did not desire this distance between them when Eru only knew what awaited them. Come what may, he had to know whether he still stood a chance of winning back the full measure of Elrohir’s affections.

“Please, Aduial, can we talk?” he pleaded.

Elrohir looked up the incline. Gimli was almost at the top.

“About what?” he asked, eyes still on the Dwarf.

“About what happened,” Legolas said. “What I said and...” He sighed guiltily as Elrohir turned his attention to him. “I did not mean it, Elrohir. Twas only because I was so...”

“Angry,” Elrohir finished for him. “Aye, I know.”

Legolas peered at him trying to read the impassive argent eyes. “You said you forgave me,” he reminded the twin.

“I did forgive you,” Elrohir replied evenly.

“Yet you remain so aloof from me,” Legolas said. “And show me so little trust besides. How can I believe that you have pardoned me?”

Elrohir paused then gravely regarded the prince. “You are right,” he conceded. “I forgave you your anger that drove you to utter such ill-spoken words. But I do not trust you as I once did.”

Legolas felt the sting of his mate’s admission keenly. He gritted his teeth in frustration. “Can you not forget what happened?” he queried in desperation.

“Forget?” Elrohir sounded quite incredulous. “And will you have me forget your egregious demeanor with me these past two years as well?!”

Legolas was nearly rendered speechless. “My— What do you mean?” he demanded apprehensively.

Elrohir let out an exasperated breath. By now, Gimli had reached the top of the path and was disappearing from his sight. “This is hardly the time to discuss this,” he snipped and made to follow the Dwarf.

Legolas began to boil within. “Then when is the time?” he challenged, grabbing the warrior’s arm. “When we are both dead and languishing in the Halls of Waiting?”

“Legolas, please, we will speak of this later,” Elrohir said dismissively.

He gasped when the archer suddenly pushed him rather brusquely against the bare rock of the cliff side. “Now, Elrohir,” Legolas growled. “Before we face whatever evil lies beyond, I want to know where I stand with you!”

The Elvenlord’s eyes blazed of a sudden, his patience giving out. “You want!” he retorted. “I should not be surprised for that is all you ever cared about. And seldom considered my needs while you were at it.”

Legolas stared at him, aghast. “What—?”

Elrohir was seething. "'Tis always what you want, what you need, what you desire!” he spat. “When have you thought to ask what I might want?”

The archer was shocked. He had never seen Elrohir thusly in all their years together. The warrior did not bother to mince his words.

“You accepted my attentions only when it suited you, spurned my attempts to protect you, balked when I so much as asked what you were about!” he hissed. “Yet you scarcely gave me solace in return. A loving word or a soothing touch at the end of the day was all I craved but even those you more oft than not denied me. Only in bed did you deign to show me some affection and even then 'twould only be until you had spent yourself!”

Struck dumb, Legolas did not think anything could be more hurtful than Elrohir’s tirade. Until the twin’s next words proved him woefully wrong.

“You are a wonderful seron, Legolas,”—lover—the Elf-knight ground out. “But as a bereth”—spouse—“you leave much to be desired.”

With that, he abruptly thrust Legolas away, grabbed hold of his mount and went up the mountain path after Elladan and Gimli.

Legolas stared after him in, breathing heavily and painfully. Then gritting his teeth, he hurried after him.

The path led onto a wide level stretch, barren for the most part but for a few straggling bushes, mostly bereft of greenery. But a thick wood loomed beyond, the surprisingly hardy trees still clinging to much of their foliage. As he caught sight of his companions, Legolas swallowed his impulse to assail Elrohir once more. He could hardly reopen their argument in front of Elladan and Gimli.

Just as he approached them, they heard a moaning cry. Startled, they all turned to see a woman fall to her knees as she emerged from the forest. She was clothed in naught but a badly rent gown, her hair loose upon her shoulders and back, and she looked pale and tired and lost.

Gimli gave a soft shout and began to walk to her, his instinct to give assistance overriding caution. But Elladan held him back.

“Wait, meldiren”—my friend—he cautioned. “Let us first learn what she is doing here. This is no place for a woman and even less for a lone one.”

He neared her but still kept some distance between them. The woman looked up at him beseechingly.

“Help me,” she pleaded. “Get me away from here, I beg of you.”

Elladan frowned uneasily. “What do you flee from, my lady?” he queried.

“From the feeders.”

“Feeders?”

“They who feast on the life force of beings.”

The statement was enough to send shivers up their spines. Legolas came to Elladan’s side.

“How did you come to be here?” he softly inquired. “Were you taken here?”

She did not answer but rose to her feet and sought to approach him and Elladan. When they backed away, she said: “Why do you fear me? I ask for aid and you retreat before me.”

She looked at each of them entreatingly. It was when she laid eyes on Elrohir that the younger twin gasped and recoiled from her stare.

“‘Tis her!” he exclaimed. “The one I glimpsed in the dead man’s thoughts! Beware, she brought him to his death!”

In that instant of recognition, the woman underwent a startling transformation. She cast off the rags of her raiment, revealing a gauzy grey gown that clung to a lissome white body. It became all too apparent just how she had lured her victim into her arms and to his death. But while the three Elves and Gimli acknowledged her allure, they had no liking for it, knowing as they did that she was one of the creatures they had been tracking.

She had apparently comprehended their immunity to her charms from the start for she made no attempt at seduction of any kind. As they cautiously watched her, her countenance altered, her skin paling to bone-white and her eyes losing all color or detail until nothing but black wells stared out at them. She emitted a piercing feral shriek.

Of a sudden, others like her appeared from the cover of the wood, swiftly moving to encircle the four. A score in all, they were also clad in grey, almost transparent gowns that had been obviously created for the purpose of temptation rather than to lend warmth. Indeed, the women did not seem to feel the hostile wind that whipped through the clearing.

Their wicked intent notwithstanding, the very nature of their origins left the four in a quandary. They had no doubts now that these must have been among the women abducted from years ago, transformed by the blackest of arts into creatures of death. Did they deserve death themselves when they had not sought to become what they now were?

Their dilemma was readily resolved when one of the creatures pounced on Gimli without warning. Instinctively, the Dwarf swung his axe at her, ripping open her belly. The woman collapsed. But to his and the others’ disbelief, no blood poured from the terrible wound. And to their consternation, even as the others began to close in on them, she only lay for a few minutes before rising once more to her feet and joining her sisters in what looked to be a feeding frenzy.

There was no longer room for ethics or compassion. This was a matter of survival.

“We must get away from here!” Elladan shouted to the others. “‘Tis fruitless to fight them if they do not bleed!”

“Yet even they must recover from their wounds,” Legolas growled and demonstrated his point by lopping off the reaching arm of one of their assailants. Sure enough, she staggered back, clutching at the stump of her arm and took some minutes to return to the fray.

They had no choice but to hack their way through and even then it was not as simple as they might have hoped. The creatures were agile and, while seemingly immune to mortal wounds, evaded their blades as much as possible. And those they did injure recovered swiftly and rejoined their sisters and so the four were often cut off in their forward progress towards the forest beyond. But they forced their way through, holding the women at bay, ever conscious of the grisly fates of the humans who had encountered them.

It was when they had almost reached the edge of the clearing and the hoped for safety of the wood that the unthinkable happened.

Elrohir was the first to break out of the deadly circle but he refused to leave the others. Taking a quick look around, he saw one woman launch herself at Legolas’ unprotected back. Without a moment’s hesitation he raced back, flinging his knife at the creature, pinning her arm to a nearby tree. But his rescue of his mate cost him.

A figure crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. A foot came down brutally on his hand forcing him to let go of his sword, which was then swiftly kicked away. Before he could get his bearings, he was straddled and icy hands gripped his face and forced him to look at she who had downed him. In the next moment, indescribable pain and cold lanced through him to his very bones. It was as if a multitude of daggers sliced at his very nerves while an arctic stream flowed through his veins. He cried out, grabbed at the creature and tried to push her off him. But she proved startlingly powerful and he could not make her budge. And the unbearable pain and cold continued to wrack his body.

He felt it then. The drain on his elven flame. Understood she was sucking from him the very essence of his life’s energy. And he could do nothing to stop it. He vaguely heard the others’ cries, saw through his rapidly blurring vision Legolas desperately trying to fight his way to him. He thought then that this was the end for him.

But just when he was on the verge of losing consciousness, the creature suddenly gave a shuddering cry, the blackened wells of her eyes widening in patent agony. Her grip on him loosened and the steady drain on his life’s force faltered and, unbelievably, he actually felt some of it flow back into him. Desperately, he flung out his arms, groping for anything he might use as a weapon. His right hand came upon a broken branch. With all his remaining strength, he grasped it and rammed one end into the woman’s neck.

She did not even cry out. Simply stared at him in shock then toppled over. And stayed there.

Elladan saw and comprehended the significance of his brother’s deed. He began to aim his strokes at the women’s throats, slicing them open or decapitating them outright. None rose again to renew their attack.

It did not take long for Legolas and Gimli to follow his lead. In a matter of minutes, it was over.

They ran to Elrohir who still lay motionless upon the withered grass. Elladan reached him first and gathered his twin into his arms.

“Gwanneth!”—younger twin!—he rasped. “How do you fare? Tell me what you feel!”

Elrohir moved his head feebly to rest on his brother’s chest.

“So...c-cold,” he stuttered. “Weak...”

Legolas took his hand and gasped at the iciness of it. “We must get him warm,” he said urgently.

Elladan briskly pulled the ends of his brother’s cloak around his shivering form, snugly wrapping him in the mantle’s thick folds. He held Elrohir tightly to himself, hoping his body heat would alleviate some of his twin’s discomfort.

“We cannot remain here,” he grimly said. “Get the horses. We must leave before any others come upon us.”

Legolas called back their scattered steeds. Taking a second to retrieve Elrohir’s knife and sword, the archer quickly mounted his horse then reached out his arms for the Elf-knight. For a tense moment, Elladan hesitated to yield his brother to the prince, his earlier distrust welling anew. But then he sighed and rose, easily lifting Elrohir in his arms, and gave his twin into the care of the latter’s mate.

Legolas pulled Elrohir close, holding him securely in his arms, letting the twin rest his woozy head against his neck. He only waited for Elladan to mount as well and pull Gimli up behind him before he urged his horse onward. They retreated into the deeps of the neighboring forest.

****************

Glossary:

Aduial - Twilight (Legolas’ pet name for Elrohir)

To be continued…
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Greenleaf & Imladris 22-Bereth:To Have and To Hold