Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Dark Journey	By : rigby Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2512 -:- 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
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Location: file:///C:/347C2D69/DarkJourneyVIII.htm
Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable
Content-Type: text/html; charset="us-ascii"

Dark Journey - Part VIII

Scrambling up a small rise, Anaria rested her hands =
on her
hips and surveyed the land that lay ahead—and snarled.
Red rocks.
Scrub growth.
Piño=
n.
Wasteland.
More of south Harad.
More of the same blasted landscape they had traverse=
d for
twelve days. From her trip north, she knew they faced at least another ten =
days
of the same before the terrain softened, becoming more hospitable. Hoping
listlessly that she would wake from a dream, Anaria turned a full circle,
scanning the horizon.
To the east, majestic red rock cliffs and spires rose
against the sky. Nearer, rugged rolling hills and washes were a patchwork of
gray and red rock, sand, and the dusty green of stunted, twisted brush and
cacti. The immediate surrounding area flattened as it neared the lip of the
channel she stood upon. Moodily, she stared over her shoulder down at the s=
tream
flowing along the channel floor. To the west, the scenery reversed, rising
until it, too, ended in towering red rock cliffs.
“Spectacular, is it not?”
Startled, she glanced sharply at Syshae, the thought
flashing through her mind that the unending heat and desolation had rendered
him insane.
He laughed softly at her surprise. “Think you =
not that
there is beauty here?” He pointed to a towering cactus that crowned t=
he
top of nearby hill.
Looking closely, she saw a bird perched on it, the g=
rey
and brown of its feathers echoing the landscape. “Never have I seen s=
uch
a bird.”
“For ‘tis likely it dwells only here and=
would
perish in lands more to our liking. And the land itself,” he gestured
with one arm. “Is it not awesome? The heights of Caradhras
are cold as the abyss and hostile as the hordes of Ang=
band,
yet there is beauty in the mountain, if you have eyes to see. That beauty is
raw, wild, untamed—and not often appreciated by those who take not the
time to look closely and see.”
Anaria felt that Syshae did not mean ‘see̵=
7; in
the traditional sense. Nay, he spoke of something deeper, more subtle, more
meaningful, more…real. More lasting. Something that overshadowed the petty wars of the Eldar and the Atani. She looked again and noti=
ced
what escaped her before: tiny flowers of pale yellow and purple peeping from
amongst the cacti thorns, the sinuous tracks of an unknown creature in the
pristine sand, the dramatic contrast of light and dark. Stark beauty, but,
goaded by Syshae’s words, she opened her fëa and absorbed it.
“My thanks, Gifted One.” Anaria dropped =
her
gaze. “I judged too hastily. Your guidance reminds me of what I have
forgotten this far from my home.”
A sigh. “Sundancer, shall you not cease to fear offending me? =
Long
have we traveled together and now we stand in the midst of a sparse
land—tired, dirty, longing for even the rudimentary comfort of an Ata=
ni
settlement. Shall you not regard me as you do Legolas? Shall you not look u=
pon
me as a companion and name me Syshae?”
“I cannot…saes…I…”
Anaria scrambled down the bank to the water and went in search of Legolas,
needing his presence to sort out her feelings.
“She still is not at ease around you?” H=
aldir
leaped lightly up the last few feet to stand beside Syshae.
“Nay, she still treats me as if I were a Valar=
or
some hero of the first age. I like it not, but there is naught I can do. She
shall either accept me as an equal or not. In either end, I shall offer my =
gift
to her people.”
Haldir rested a hand on Syshae’s shoulder.
“Lirimaer, you are most philosophical on this. Never have I seen you =
so
accepting of such as this.”
“Age brings wisdom?”
“Nay,” Haldir laughed. “You must do
better should I believe you. For now, let us see to finding a place to camp
tonight. We shall set camp while Legolas and our reticent Sundancer
fill the water skins and bathe.”

Eyeing Legolas’ nude form, Anaria mused on the=
chasm
that separated her feelings when they entered Harad and that evening.
Then—it seemed so very long in the past—she had been horrified =
when
Haldir announced they would refill water skins and bathe in pairs. True, the
accursed Haradrim outlaws attacked without warning, but…to bathe with
another? To bare her body to another? And that other a nér?
Praise the Sun Father, Haldir paired her with Legola=
s.
Haldir was another leader, an alpha, accustomed to
command—arrogant and demanding. Never would she have been able to bar=
e herself
to him. Nae, not with her scars. Not with the
inevitable questions. The Gifted One. Anaria shi=
vered.
Even more feared. To bare her body to Syshae would be to bear her fëa.
Could she survive that? Could any elf? With certainty, Anaria knew she could
not.
A warm, furred head butted her firmly in the posteri=
or,
almost knocking her from her feet. Anaria huffed in irritation and glared at
Heart Sister.
Warm laughter drew her attention
“Heart Sister approves not your pique.”

Swiftly, Anaria considered putting an arrow in
Legolas’ body or carving an image on his alabaster skin with one of h=
er knives.
Just as quickly, she discarded her anger. ‘Twas
not his fault she was disgruntled.
“What have my fellow Galadhrim done to so upset
you?”
Shaking her head in the negative, Anaria unslung her bow and quiver. Removing her clothing, she
scooped up the empty water skins and waded into the deep pool that lay shad=
ed
by a large rock.
Why had Syshae’s words so upset her? He was the
Gifted One. Sunfather knew she believed that,
but… but he was perfect. He was everything an elf would wish to becom=
e, larger
than reality like the elves in the Sunfather’s
stories of Valinor and the First Age. And there=
in lay
the problem. How could she—scarred physically and emotionally, incapa=
ble
of carrying out her duty to her people—what would the Gifted One thin=
k if
he knew the truth of Anaria? She tossed the last of the water skins onto the
bank and sank to her knees until the water lapped at her chin. Closing her
eyes, she luxuriated in the cool water washing away the grime of travel cov=
ering
her body. Nothing kept out the sand; no clothing proved a sufficient barrie=
r.
Water splashed on her face, snapping her eyes open.

Legolas chuckled. “A warrior so rapt they fail=
to
detect another’s approach soon has no need of weapons.”
Snarling, Anaria hit the surface of the water with t=
he
heel of her hand, sending a sheet of water into his face.
“Such a temper,” he admonished playfully.
“Why then are you so meek with my bother Galadhrim?”
The question surprised her. She hesitated, wavering
between denying the truth of his remark and the need to share her turmoil. =
The
latter was new to her; never had she felt the need to confide in another.
Always, her bond with the tigers sufficed, but now, she needed one of her o=
wn
kind. She needed words.
Anaria sat down on the rough sand of the stream bott=
om,
drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Legolas
mirrored her position, close enough to lend unspoken support, but far enough
away not to intrude on her personal space.
“You know of the…what happened to me.=
221;
Not commenting, Legolas waited for her to continue. =
After
some moments she did.
“The scars…they do not heal as they shou=
ld, as
other elves heal. They are…they prove I am unclean. The Valar deny me=
. Eru has denies me.” She cupped her hands and rinsed he=
r face
with cool water. A deep breath. “My people=
fade.
Their need is great. I am First Daughter, First Warrior. ‘Tis my duty to provide an heir, that the Sunfather’s line continue,
yet since… I cannot do this. I cannot bear the touch of another. To lie with a nér, to allo=
w them
to use my body as the Atani did… Nay,” Anaria shuddered.=

Legolas resisted the urge to wrap his arms around he=
r and
pull her close. Anaria’s words came from her fëa, pus pouring fo=
rth
from a lanced boil. She needed to speak them. No matter how painful, he wou=
ld
hear them.
“Should the Gifted One know of my failure, of =
my
weakness, he would not aid my people.”
Somehow, Legolas didn’t think that was her real
fear.
Anaria sighed and lifted her face to look directly a=
t him.
“Ai, I fear that, but I more fear that…” another deep bre=
ath,
“I more fear that he should also deny me, that he should find me lack=
ing,
that he should…that he should find me hideous and unworthy of notice.
I…know not the words to tell you…” She bowed her head.
“You just did.”
“Nay, none who have not known—“
“I know.” Legolas interrupted her.
“Anaria, I know. I know fear and pain. I know beatings until blood fl=
owed
down my back, until my voice, screaming for cessation, was raw unto mutenes=
s.
Helpless, I have been. Unable to stop the torment, or f=
ight
against it. And rape…ai, I have kn=
own
rape. The violation of my body and, even worse, the vio=
lation
of my fëa.”
Anaria’s head snapped up. She couldn’t b=
elieve
the words. Nay, Legolas was a skilled warrior, n=
ever
would he have been helpless.
A wry smile twisted Legolas’ lips as unguarded
emotions flashed across her face. “Ai, I have been a slave. Known the despair of no hope, of utter aloneness. Yet =
hope I
found. And love I found. And acceptance. And
understanding.” With one hand, he scooped up water and let it run bet=
ween
his fingers back to the stream. His sapphire eyes bored into her. “Th=
is
is yours also, if you but accept it. You have only to open yourself.”=
Despite the slight chill of the water, Anaria flushe=
d.
“I…cannot. I have none such as you, as Haldir and…”=
Her
blush deepened.
“You have discerned our relationship.”

“I thought at first it was the closeness of wa=
rriors
fighting side-by-side for much time, but ‘tis not,” ducking her
head, Anaria angled her eyes up to him, “is it?”
Before answering, Legolas leaned back, dunking his s=
calp
into the cool water. She had told him her people’s beliefs on
bonding—what would she make of the bond between h=
e,
Syshae, and Haldir? What would her people think? And wh=
at of
his bondmates? Would they be at ease with her knowing the depth of t=
heir
bond? Valar! What was he—a feeling of calm suffused him. From where d=
id
it come? Syshae, he could discern a sense of his bondm=
ate,
but it was muted. There was no sense of Haldir. Why not? What— sudden=
ly he
knew that he needed to cease his worried debate and simply speak. The words
would find themselves and convey what he desired.
“The bond you share with Heart Sister…&#=
8221;
Legolas paused, watched Anaria’s cheeks flush, her eyes dart away from
his gaze and return shyly. “You have told me ‘tis not the way of
your people to bond with each other, yet you share such a bond with the tig=
ers,
is this not the same—”
“Nay!” Anaria=
denied
vehemently. “My bond is not sexual. There is not the desire, the heat,
nor, nor the, the physical side is not involved as with you. The tigers are=
my
sisters, my fellow warriors.”
“Yet, do they not become closer, the bond stro=
nger,
with each generation? Do you not give more of your fëa to each and take
more of their nature into yourself? Shall you not one day lose yourself and
become as they?”
Words of denial sprang to her lips, but Anaria bit t=
hem
back. Legolas hit too close to the mark. Nay, his words scored a bulls eye. She lived with the ever increasing closenes=
s.
Craved it, needed it—and feared it more than anything, even the Atani=
or
her own weakness. The bond changed her. It made her more—and
less—than any Eldar ever had been or woul=
d me.
It made her…something other than Eldar.

Slam!

A fist hit the tabletop, causing the cups and flagon=
of
wine on it to jump. A hand fisted in dark blonde hair as Oropher dropped hi=
s head
back and exhaled deeply, fighting to control his frustration.
“You speak treason!”
Maglor’s words did nothing to soothe Oropher’s emotions. “=
Truth
‘tis not treason.”
“Our father lives. He is the king and lawful r=
uler!
To speak against him is treason.”
“Thranduil, our si=
re, is
insane.”
Maglor’s nostrils flared as he drew back as if=
to
distance himself from his brother’s words. “You dare—R=
20;
“I dare much when our future hangs in the bala=
nce!
Our…King’s leadership shall see all slain. Sacrificed to some
twisted memory even he no longer knows the truth of. Then who shall we find
sport of? Who shall amuse us?”
“Ahhh,” Magl=
or’s
lips twisted into a sneer. “Your concern is for the people—the =
same
people you care naught for, except how a comely one might warm your bed or =
fill
your purse. Do you forget those you sold to slavers to silence them? Those =
you
bedded unwilling? The ones you tortured for amusement?” Maglor seized=
his
older brother’s wrist and twisted. “Nae, I think not. I think y=
ou
remember them all, every face, every cry for mercy. You were ever the weak =
one.
Our father always said ‘twas thus—that you would one day betray=
us
to our ruin.”
Ripping his wrist free, Oropher faced the nearest wi=
ndow,
looking out over the green canopy of Mirkwood.
“Always, I have done his bidding. Never have I questioned it. Never. Yet now he acts in ways that threaten to destro=
y our
people—and our way of lif=
e.”
He swung back to face Maglor, eyes narrowed. “You would do well to
remember my place—and my strength. I shall rule after our sire, not y=
ou
who panders so easily to the whims of others.” Steel rang as he drew =
his
sword and rested its point against Maglor’s throat. “Hear me, younger brother. I speak no treaso=
n,
merely truth. You would do well to open your mind and see it for such—=
;and
look to saving yourself from the wrath that shall surely damn us.”
Maglor licked his lips. “W=
hose
wrath? Those powerless wretches we rule? The
night-fearing Atani who grovel to us for scraps?” The sword
wavered. “Or ‘tis you whose mind slips? Do you fear the mighty =
Valar
shall loose their wrath upon us? The same Valar who cast our kind out of Aman and left us here to battle an unconquerable foe =
in
their place? Do you forget the true power in Middle Earth? It lies only wit=
hin ourselves! We are nothing but what we make of ourselve=
s.
Nothing! There are no Valar. They have long left the circles of this world.=
We
rule here. None other. None!=
”
Oropher sheathed his sword. “I beseech you to =
think
on my words, brother. This is not done.”
The door shut behind him, its soft click somehow mor=
e portentous
than the loudest slam.

Warg farts and orc feces!
Erestor stormed through the halls of the Last Homely
House, hands clenched into fists to keep them from ripping paintings from t=
he
walls and smashing figurines from their pedestals. Seeing his approach,
servants fled or shrank into doorways if escape wasn’t possible.
“Daro=
!”
Lindir stepped in front of Erestor, blocking the corridor.
Onyx eyes opened wide as Erestor jerked to a halt, t=
hen
narrowed to level a laser stare at his lover.
Lindir cocked his head to the side and waited for Er=
estor
to speak. He knew the dark haired councilor would not strike out at him. He
also knew that to ask a question when Erestor was in a fury would result on=
ly
in the destruction of any frangible thing within sight. When provoked, Lindir’s quiet, reserved, scholarly love was in=
famous
for baring his fangs and unleashing his formidable temper.
Chest heaving with the effort of controlling himself,
Erestor glared at the one barring his way. Adrenalin raced through his vein=
s,
spiking his temper, threatening to send it spinning out of control.
Confidence wavering, Lindir wondered for the first t=
ime if
he should fear his lover. Never, in all their years together, had Erestor
looked at him without recognition. “Melethron nin. Saes. See me. I fear =
when you
are thus. Erestor, my love, hear me.” For long minutes, Lindir repeat=
ed
his plea, varying the words, but not the message.
At last, Erestor closed his eyes and sighed.
Lindir took a deep, shuddering breath. Hesitantly, he
moved toward Erestor until he could rest one hand on the councilor’s
shoulder. He waited, judging his lover’s reaction.
Erestor sighed, shoulders slumping and muscles relax=
ing.
“What distresses you so, lirimaer?”
“Those brats! I sha=
ll find
them and flay them alive.” Erestor’s
words still held a bite, but it was ebbing.
Them. Lindir felt his fac=
e pale
and his body temperature drop. In Imladris, them
combined with b=
rats,
could only mean the twins. Valar! what had they =
done
to provoke such rage in the normally even-tempered councilor?

“Aiya! Again,
saes. Harder!” Syshae pled.
Happily, Haldir complied, sheathing himself harder i=
nto
his bondmate’s tight anal opening. Their =
groins
slicked with sweat, the two thrust against each other, straining for deeper
penetration. Gripping Syshae’s hips with both hands, Haldir leaned his
weight on the slighter elf, forcing him forward.
Rock, still hot from the heat of the day, ground aga=
inst
Syshae’s chest as Haldir forced him forward. The desolation of the de=
sert
echoing the deprivation of his need, Syshae cried aloud, thrusting his hips
back, hollowing his back, fingers clawing at the rough rock. A hand slid ar=
ound
his hip and grasped his cock, stroking the turgid flesh.
Moans.
Gunts.
Whimpers.
Pleasure and pain.
Teeth sank into Syshae’s shoulder and he howle=
d his
pleasure.
“Mine,” Haldir declared roughly.
“Ai!”
Stilling his movements, Haldir inquired, “Tell=
me of
your desire, lirimaer. Tell me and I shall give you it. Else…” =
He
started to withdraw his cock.
“Nay!” Midnig=
ht
tresses lashed both bodies as Syshae shook his head in denial. “Saes! Torment me not, Haldir!”
“Tell me.” The words were a rough demand=
in
Syshae’s ear.
Syshae’s head fell back against Haldir’s
shoulder. Bodies that would normally be slick with sweat were dry in the low
desert humidity. Syshae mewled, a wordless plea to Haldir that the silver
haired Marchwarden ignored as he remained motio=
nless.
A snarl.
Still Haldir did not move, simply remaining deep wit=
hin
the heat of his lover’s channel.
A whimper.
No movement.
Syshae wriggled his hips in a vain attempt to entice
Haldir.
No response.
“Haldir, saes̷=
0;”
Silence.
Moving his feet further apart to open himself more to
Haldir, Syshae hissed, “Use me. Ride me. Hard. Master me and leave your mark on me! Take your
pleasure of my body. Make me your slave, your whore. Yo=
urs.
Fill me with your seed. Saes. It is too long wit=
hout
coupling, with only the pleasure of hand and mouth. Har=
d.
Fast. Brutal. Bury your cock—”
Haldir’s response =
was so
abrupt, so hard, giving his lover everything Syshae begged for, that it cut=
off
the prince’s pleas. Cut them off and replaced them with cries of
pleasure…
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dark Journey

Dark Journey - Part VIII