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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
- 8
- 9
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I make no claim to any character except Syshae,
Anaria, and Heat Sister. They are mine. All others are property of JRR Tolkien.
I make no money from this story.
Author�s note: Abject apologies for the unpardonable delay
in continuing this story. The next part is in final editing and Part XI is
almost written. Hopefully, no more unseemly delays.
All other bits of info: See Part I.

Dark Journey � Part IX

Meleth?
The inquiry intruded into Legolas�s
thoughts. Go away! he
snapped, then firmly shielded himself from his lovers.
�What troubles you?� Anaria inquired tentatively.
�You frown as if displeased�� she trailed off, her long ingrained reticence
returning.
�Uhmmm,� Legolas
stroked down the smooth skin of her bare back, coaxing the tension from her
muscles, �but not with you, my beautiful, sexy warrior.� Strong fingers
massaged her shouders. �My bondmates,� he murmured,
leaning down so that his breath ghosted over her skin. �They are�miffed.�
�Miffed?!� In spite of the wonderful, relaxing
feeling Legolas was invoking in her body, Anaria twisted to look at him and
laughed.
Sitting back on his heels, Legolas indulged an
urge and allowed himself to run his hands down her ribcage to the waist of her
skirt. Given her fit of mirth, the caress didn�t have the desired effect. It
tickled, causing Anaria to laugh harder.
With an exaggerated sigh, Legolas toyed with the
tassels on her wistband. �Ai.
Miffed,� he spoke mournfully. �An unfortunate flaw they both possess.�
Struggling to control her laughter, Anaria
asked, �What is this flaw that can cause such warriors to become,� she couldn�t
contain another snort of mirth, �miffed?�
Legolas rose to his knees and turned her full on
her back, then crawled up her body until he covered her completely, his weight
braced on his elbows beside her shoulders. Inwardly, he congratulated himself
on resisting the temptation of exploring her full, tempting breasts. �Jealousy.�
�Jea��
Lips covered hers, bestowing a slow, worshipful
kiss, before pulling back to look into her eyes. �Ai.
You asked did I begrudge that my others are intimate on this journey and I not
with them, and I denied this. You did not ask why I did not resent this.�
Regarding the sparkle of mirth in Legolas�
sapphire eyes, she spoke warily. �Why?�
�Rightly, you say there is envy, but �tis not
mine. My bondmates envy me�as they have each step of this journey�for �tis me
you speak with and allow to touch you. Much would they give would you allow
them the same, for they also are drawn to you.�
He watched the last traces of mirth and
curiosity fade from Anaria�s eyes. Disappointment, followed by hurt, flashed
across her unguarded features, then she stilled as a blank curtain drew across
to shield her thoughts and emotions away from the world�from him. He expected
her to struggle to get away from his touch, embarrassment and his perceived
betrayal of her driving her fury, but she lay passively.
�Shall you hear me, Anaria of the Sundancers? Shall you listen with your f�a as well as your
ears and mind?�
Why did it hurt so much? Of course they wanted
her. The three Galadhrim made no secret of their admiration of her body, even
shrouded in her traveling clothes. Not for the first time, Anaria cursed
herself for agreeing to dance in Lorien. Her people
were right to prohibit the baring of flesh to outsiders. They were no better
than the Atani who raped her, yet she was less than the elleth
she had been then�much less. She had enjoyed their attentions, their unspoken
approval, basked in their admiration, craved their
kindness like a starved and beaten dog begging for scraps. Why then did she not
fight? Run? Why was she calm and willing to listen to Legolas? Willing? Ai, but
it ran deeper than that. She�
�Shall you listen, Anaria?�
Hating herself, needing his words, Anaria nodded
her agreement.
�You err if you believe our interest is only physical.
Ai, you are beautiful. You are mysterious, which is a potent aphrodisiac. Your
garb which you believe protects you only serves to make you more alluring.� He
smiled at her fractional show of surprise. �Ai, know you not that which is left
to the imagination is a more potent lure than that which is revealed, leaving
no mystery for the imagination?�
Anaria shook her head.
A gentle smile curved Legolas�s
lips. �Then I shall enjoy teaching you this, Sundancer,
but that must wait for you need to understand. I deny not that my bondmates and
I have taken many lovers, both singly and together, and I deny not that our
attraction to you began with the simple desire to have you in our bed.�
Hearing him give voice to her fear, Anaria
sought to turn her head so that she need not meet Legolas�s
gaze. A gentle but firm hand prevented it.
�Nay, you shall not hide from me, lirimaer.
Though our attraction began that way, �twas not long before it became more and
that, Sundancer, has not happened though centuries
have passed since we bonded.� A deep sigh. �This�we
know not what to make of this, Anaria. We know not what to make of you, of this
attraction. And we know not what it means�for any of us. Yet I know this: I
desire to know you, to be with you, to heal you, to remove your fear, to
protect you, to give you whatever I may that you shall accept. Know this also:
my bondmates share these feelings.�
Anaria stared at him even as she blinked to clear her
watery gaze. So many old hurts and steeled mistrusts within her
balked her from accepting easily the stirring hope and growing desire to
believe him; that she was more than a failed warrior with nothing but duty to
keep her alive. Could what Legolas professed be true? Could she be
healed; was she worthy of such forgiveness in the face of her own failures to
long ago? Were her companions� feelings more than base? And what of her own inner turmoil regarding the Galadhrim?
For so long her heart had had no room for anything beyond love for her father
and family, duty to her tribe, and hatred towards the Atani who plagued her
lands. Was it possible for such a scarred organ to grow warm again?
Anaria felt Heart Sister's warmth flood through her,
encouraging her to take yet one more step in trusting Legolas. She let
her tears fall, knowing he would not think her weak for their presence.
One trembling hand crept to hesitantly touch his cheek. "I am
frightened." She admitted in a ragged whisper.
�Allow a mellon to help.�
=====

�Those unconscionable brats drugged my wine! They
molested me as I slept helpless and unaware! They violated my body! They�they��
frustration choked Erestor, words no match for his fury, �defiled me!�

�Meleth,� Lindir turned away,
biting his lower lip, and struggling to choke down his mirth as Erestor turned
this way and that, glaring at his reflection in the mirror.
�Ah, so one of us is amused.� Erestor�s
voice dripped ice. �How think you I should explain this? How should I dress to
conceal this until �tis gone? �Twill be an age until
it fades! Valar! I shall exact my
revenge on those brats!�
With an effort, Lindir erased all outward traces of mirth.
�Lirimaer, truth I find it not unpleasing. �Tis��
�Not unpleasing?� Erestor�s eyes
narrowed to dagger points. �You find this,�
he waved a hand over his nude body, �pleasing? Perhaps you find it amusing,
erotic, attractive? What say you, minstrel? Shall you
put this to song or merely make a tale to regale those besotted by wine?�
�Meleth, indeed I find it erotic
though that �twas certainly not the twins� intention,
and nay I shall not set this to music nor to tale, for this I intend to enjoy
privately.� Lindir ran his eyes over his lover�s body appreciatively. �Very privately and very often. I hope it shall not fade for
an age at least. As for concealment, I venture that none but I should have
cause to view you thusly.� Gently but firmly, Lindir turned Erestor to face the
floor length mirror that was one of Erestor�s few
indulgences. �Place your hands on the mirror, meleth.�
Still fuming silently and imagining the twins hanging by
their heels, naked, covered in tar and feathers, in a very public place,
surrounded by the entire population of Imladris all laughing, Erestor obeyed.
Lindir placed his hands on Erestor�s
hips, on top of the handprints the twins had inked
onto the alabaster skin, and regarded the words that spread across his lover�s
lower back.
Property of Lindir.
Oh yes, he definitely approved�and found it indescribably
erotic. Erestor would no doubt devise suitable retribution, but Lindir intended
to reward the twins�handsomely.
=====

�I remember moving
along suspended pathways, gliding like a spirit, marveling at what seemed to me
a garden of ease. Even after more than a
full day of rest, to hear such open laughter, such unrestrained sounds, as floated
through the air of your Golden Wood, was foreign to my ears. Constantly, I reminded myself that those
dwelling there were my long removed kin. I envied you, that you have no need to
live in stealth as the Sundancers do,
that you descend freely to the forest floor.�
�Did�do you hate�resent us for that?�
Anaria sighed. �Perhaps�no.
I�wanted to. Tried to.� Another
sigh. �But, I cannot. �Tis no fault of yours
that my forebearers chose not to follow Or�me to Valinor, nor that they
roamed so far south as to be lost to our kindred. The Sunfather
tells us that the Valar have a design for all that none may discern in advance.
If that be true, then we are all but pawns in their game, or perhaps Eru, the One, has a purpose for us that shall only be
revealed in time with his design.�
�Perhaps.� Legolas reached out
and traced a finger down her cheek and jaw. �What else did you think that
night?�
Distracted by his touch, Anaria shuddered, trying to bring
her cartwheeling thoughts under control. �Only during
our most sacred ceremonies, do my people celebrate and raise sounds that carry
in such a manner, and congregate on the forest floor. Removing a glove, I drug
my fingers against the smooth bark of a giant tree. I moved in a dream�a dream
that I walked in my own land in such peace and safety.� A smile, more a grimace
of regret, twisted Anaria�s lips. �A long stair led to the forest floor. It seemed such a waste to step down in such a
tedious manner. I felt as an elfling. No, I chided myself, shaking my braids and
smiling behind my veil, I wanted to be an elfling
again, to be na�ve, to bear no scars upon my f�a. Easily, did I vault over the
pathway�s edge and throw myself into the air.�
�Ai, and with pleasure do I recall how agilely you raced
down from the canopy, moving from branch to branch, and tree to tree,� Legolas
grinned, �and, how the sight amused me.�
�Ai, and I remember looking up
into the amused eyes of one of the three ellon I�d
met, the one called Legolas. You. Briefly did I duck my head, acknowledging
your presence, but your words struck me, for they marked you not for a
Galadhrim, though you name yourself such.�
�Others might chide
you for such a display, lady. But, I
remember all too well the joy of discovering a mallorn
granting passage to climb its limbs.�
�In my heart and f�a I am Galadhrim, though in my blood I
am Sindar and the people of my blood dwell still in Mirkwood.�
Anaria considered his words. �When the
others call you prince, �tis not as a prince of Lorien?�
A heaviness that no amount of centuries could ease settled
inside Legolas. The subject was not one he would choose to broach, but perhaps
sharing some of it would serve to break down more of Anaria�s reserve and ease
her doubts. �Let us sit here,� he gestured to the bole of a fallen tree.
Eyeing the blonde warrior warily, Anaria settled onto the
mossy bark.
With a smile at her hesitancy, Legolas sat beside her.
Heart Sister padded over and stretched out on their feet�literally as the huge
cat rolled onto her side. �You act as untrusting as my bondmates.�
�Perhaps they are wiser even than the Valar,� she
murmured.
Legolas�s lips twitched, then
stilled as he returned to the subject.
�You have told me of your feelings that you are not worthy, that you
fail your people and your family by not providing them their
heir as you say is your duty.� Restlessly, Anaria shifted her weight. He
held up one hand to still any protest. �I said to you that I too have known
fear and pain and beatings. That I have endured the violation
of my body, helpless to resist. That I have been a slave.� Pausing, he
searched for the words to continue. �Yet I would tell you more.
�I knew little kindness as an elfling��
Legolas told her of his father�s brutality, of his mother�s death, of the haven
of Ilmadris where Elrond and Erestor and Glorfindel
and Lindir and others raised him and taught him of honor and kindness. Anaria�s
eyes widened, then misted with unshed tears, but she held silent, fearful that
he would stop if she broke into the words that spilled forth as if from a
storyteller. Leaving little out, Legolas told of meeting Haldir and Syshae�and
the disaster brought on by the revelation of his true name.
Feeling the pain that radiated from Legolas at the memory,
Anaria failed to stifle a gasp at the callous treatment. �None listened? You
meant no harm! How��
�Anger fueled me also,� he admitted. �Then despair
replaced it. I wandered where my mount would, caring
nothing for direction or danger. Food I ate not, nor drank.�
Without hesitation, Anaria put an arm around Legolas,
offering comfort and support, something she had never done outside of her
tigers.
Suppressing a smile, Legolas leaned into the offered
warmth ever so slightly and continued his story before she noticed the physical
contact. �Erestor saved me�again. My destroyer; my savior.
But I could not forgive myself, or my lovers, for I knew not the truth that
drove their actions. I knew only their rejection and their refusal to listen to
me. On an evening, I resolved to do as Orophin bade
me and seek my answers of my sire. I left that night for Mirkwood,
telling none of my intention.�
Foreboding swept through Anaria and she squeezed Legolas
harder, instinct telling her that what followed would be worse. It was worse
than she could ever have imagined, even in the darkest, twisted nightmare sent
by Melkor.
Every dark, vile act, every violation, every shameful deed
Thranduil had done to him or had drawn forth from him
poured from Legolas. He wasn�t aware of crying until Anaria nudged Heart Sister
aside, slid to her knees before him, and wiped the warm saltiness from his
cheeks. She said nothing, knowing all too well there was agony no words could
touch.
Sapphire eyes lifted to stare past her, though whether
they looked into the past or inside to some unknowable place, Anaria couldn�t
tell. His next words rocked her to the core.
�Never have I told another of that time.�
Never? But the
Gifted One. Haldir. They were bonded, their
f�ar entwined. Though he had said nothing, did they know or had he held that
part of himself back? Was that possible? Sun Father! Would her life never cease
to become more complicated? But what of Legolas? What
of the strong warrior she knew him to be? How could she reconcile the
dichotomy? His lowered gaze met hers and she reacted to the raw pain in it.
Again without thinking, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him.
Legolas dropped his forehead to rest on her shoulder
hoping, despite the pain of his memories, she would not pull back. He sent a
quick plea to the Valar that she wouldn�t realize what she was doing, how she
was opening up and responding to him.
Heart Sister chose that moment to rise, stretch, and begin
bathing a paw noisily. Legolas smiled. Yes, the cat was right, as she had been
each time. And each time, the tiger had pushed Anaria forward,
thrust her to open up, to allow the three Galadhrim closer. Turning his head so he could see the tiger,
Legolas reached out and scratched the broad, striped forehead. The cat
responded by closing her eyes and making the soft grunting noise that indicated
pleasure.
Moments passed without either elf speaking until it became
filled with uncertainty, neither knowing what to do next. Shyly, almost
reluctantly, as if embarrassed, Anaria drew back until there was no physical
contact between them although less than a hand�s width separated them.
�My thanks for your comfort, Anaria of the Sundancers, melon nin.�
Darting a quick glance at Legolas, Anaria decided he was
not mocking her. Some of the tension left her body and she offered him a shy
half-smile which faded quickly as his words replayed in her mind.
�Never have I told
another of that time.�
�Why?� She knew he would understand her real question.
�I cannot tell them. My shame�� Suddenly, sapphire eyes
blazed with anger. �I cannot lose them again! Never would they understand!� The
rage drained from Legolas�s eyes. He closed them
tightly. His head dropped back and he took several deep breaths. �I cannot!�
�You choose not.� Anaria�s voice radiated certainty.
�Forgive me, mellon
nin, but you cannot know��
A snarl cut off his words. �You tell me of these things
that happened to you to make me see that to live through such darkness is
possible, that one can begin anew. You seek to give me hope and trust in
others, yet you deny yourself this.� Her raised hand stopped his protest. �I
know not of this bond with the Gifted One and Haldir, of how it works, or how
deep it runs, but you tell me you have not spoken of this last to them. Do they
not know, then you are not true to them, you have not totally surrendered
yourself. Is your bond then true or shall it fail when most needed? Shall your
secret cause hurt�or death�to your beloveds? Shall you be the cause of the loss
of the last succor of the Eldar? Shall our race be
doomed by your fear?�
Legolas started to protest, but found there were no words.
Was the Sundancer correct? Ai, he had withheld the
knowledge of his father�s abuse from his bondmates, fearful that his own
actions would cause them to banish him from their love again. Had he that
right? Would his silence damn not only him, but those of his race left on the
shores of Middle-Earth?
�Tell them.�
�I fear. I cannot survive their rejection again. Yet you
are correct. They must know. There are things greater than I.
that�I know not how to tell them.�
�Allow a mellon to help.�
=====

The mark under Thranduil�s arm began to burn. No longer
caring enough to fight the darkness sweeping through him, Thranduil
sank to his knees and slumped against the corridor�s wall. Chill from the
stones seeped in but, lost in a morass of self-loathing, desire, and fear, the
king didn�t feel it. Dark Maia. Sauron. But�wasn�t the evil
one vanquished? Wasn�t it�different? Or was it�his sons, were they alive or was
it another deceitful vision? Pain flared brighter on his mark. The Maia�s mark.

�How came he to this state?� Maglor demanded.
�I know not, brother. Only that a guard found him in the
corridor, unconscious.� Oropher raked his fingers through his hair, a sure sign
of frustration. �He has been growing worse. Perhaps this is best.�
�Best? What mean you by this?� Sweeping a hand toward Thranduil�s body lying in his great
bed, chest barely moving, Maglor glared at Oropher. �He is strong! He will
recover! Our king is in no danger. Merely overtired with his
duties. Only a traitor would imply other.� Eyes narrowed
speculatively. �Or �tis it you wish for something else? Are you worse than a
traitor? Have you schemed to incapacitate our King?�
Fury rose in a rush as Oropher fought not to attack his
brother. �Thrice now you have named me traitor. Do such not again. You know
�tis not truth and we cannot be seen divided. The people grow restless. We
cannot allow them to see a weakness they may attack or use against our king or
us.�
�Another change of belief?�
Maglor sneered. �You must decide where your loyalty lies. Last was with the
same people you now fear. Last you questioned our king�s rule, yet now you hold
yourself loyal. Decide soon, lest it be decided for you.�
=====

"Bring that back!" the frustrated
cry echoed across the clearing where the three Galadhrim worked on
breaking camp. They jerked up to see a smug looking tiger, head held high,
walking away from the bushes where Anaria was dressing. What looked like a
scrap of fabric dangled from the great cat's jaws.
Legolas could not help but chuckle as Heart Sister
sauntered up to him and dropped a damp, draggled fabric square that he
recognized as the Sundancer's traveling veil at his
feet. "I believe your companion feels �tis time you stop hiding!" He
called out teasingly, as his mirth-filled eyes met his bondmates� astonished
ones. Bending swiftly, he scooped up the veil and swung it from an index finger
while speculatively eyeing the bushes sheltering Anaria. Heart Sister was
right. The time had come to end Anaria�s ridiculous attempt to maintain her
distance from Haldir and Syshae by hiding behind her veil. The laughter inside
him died.
�Sundancer, �tis time to end
this game. You have no reason to conceal your face from Haldir and Syshae.�
Legolas sensed startled movement, quickly stilled, from the two other warriors,
but didn�t move his eyes from the bushes. �We are your kin, and your
companions. �Tis unseemly that you treat us as outsiders and trust us not.
Come forth, lirimaer. Allow my others to see you, as they have shown themselves
to you.�
A pause, then slender hands parted the bushes. Another pause. Anaria stepped forth hesitantly.

Eyes fixed on the ground at her feet, Anaria emerged from
the sheltering bushes, the heat of a blush warming her cheeks. Rotten cat! Traitor! She hurled her
thoughts at the tiger. The only response from Heart Sister was a sense of
amusement. Why was she walking toward the Galadhrim,
Anaria asked herself. Why wasn�t she protesting? Her people did not bare skin
before outsiders. It would be wrong. It would be�
Legolas. Legolas. Legolas. Her mind
taunted her with his name. Remembering the first time her skin lay bare to him,
Anaria�s blush deepened. Her unreasoning fear of the Atani village and the
hideous memories that followed rushed back. How had she faced him the next
morning? What prompted him to follow her, take care of her, guard her�and not
once refer to that night? When had she begun to trust him, to offer him
tentative friendship, to allow him to know her inner thoughts and fears? An
exposed root caught her toe and she nearly fell.
Orc luck! She
stopped, self-consciously rubbing her toe against the back of her other calf. Wonderful. Look like an uncoordinated elfling.
Anaria didn�t know which desire was strongest: run and hide back in the bushes,
brazen the situation out by verbally attacking the three irritating warriors,
seizing Heart Sister by the scruff of her neck and giving the tiger a thorough
shaking, forgetting her entire life and fleeing into the deepest reaches of the
jungle to hide forever�a forgotten failure.
Silence stretched. No wind stirred. No insect moved.
With effort, Anaria reined in her galloping thoughts. She
could do this. She had to do this. Her
people were isolated. The Sun Father saved them, but they remained severed from
their kindred. She was First Daughter. War Leader.
Never had others doubted her courage. She despised the reticence Haldir
inspired in her, and the awe Syshae aroused. And�she wanted to take this step.
Anaria breathed deeply, the spicy aroma of pi�on and mesquite filling her nostrils along with the dry
semi-arid heat. My greatest battle yet,
and me without a weapon to hand. The thought twitched the corners of her
mouth. A brush of impatient encouragement from Heart Sister.
Mentally, Anaria snarled. You stand on a
thin limb! Another deep breath. Anaria raised her
head to look straight at Haldir and Syshae.
- 8
- 9
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Dark Journey

Dark Journey � Part IX