A big thank you to JastaElf who beta read this chapter since RL hijacked Nilmandra.

For all of you who have been so patient and who have prodded me to get off my – er, seat, this chapter is dedicated to you. Hope you like it. This took me a WHILE.

Chapter 5 – Pillow Talk and Other Conversation

Legolas struggled against encroaching sleep, determined to prolong the evening. As the bed shifted, he tightened his arms automatically. “Not yet.”

Rhinure shushed him, smoothing the damp hair away from his forehead. “Sleep. You are tired.”

Legolas shook his head. “No.”

Rhinure smiled at his petulance; he was such a child sometimes. “You are tired, are you not?”

“No,” Legolas insisted, pulling her closer so that she was nestled against his side. 

“Why not?” Rhinure settled down next to him, turning on her side and resting on his shoulder.

Legolas drew the sheet over them more securely before he answered, cocooning them so that she had to warp herself around him. He liked it, being this close to her; he could feel the heat from her body and the sweet smell of her sweat. “For if I sleep, you will leave.”

Rhinure raised herself on one elbow so that she could look at him, black into blue. “I am tired too, hir nín. Like you, I must get some rest.” (My Lord)

Legolas turned so that his face was against her bare shoulder. “Rest here with me.” 

Rhinure’s face twisted for the smallest of seconds before settling into blankness. “I cannot.”

“Why not?”

“This is not my bed.”

“But it could be ours.” Legolas kissed her shoulder, mouth trailing over her skin to remind her of what is was like when they were together.  Rhinure shifted closer, making Legolas lie back so that she could lean over him. Her hair swung down around them, cutting off the faint moonlight filtering into the room. They had been occupied in here for a while now, even missing dinner because of their activities.

 “I would like that.”

Legolas frowned, hearing the objection even though Rhinure did not voice it. “But?”  

“But not now.  I have my place and you have yours.” Legolas made to say something again but Rhinure placed a restraining finger on his mouth. “Remember, my Lord – time. I need time.”

Legolas moved her hand away, “Why, mell min? I do not ask for much.”     (Dear one)

Rhinure sighed and rested back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, wondering if Legolas would ever understand.

“Tell me.”

“Why do you want this?  Is it not enough that I share your bed?”

“Do not deflect my question with one of yours. All I ask is that I am able to hold you in my arms and watch you sleep. That is not too much to ask.”

Rhinure turned away from Legolas, frustrated that he insisted on pushing too hard and too fast. A gentle touch on the arm and a soft voice made her still. “Do not turn away from me, hervess nín.” When she made no move, he continued in an anguished whisper. “It hurts so.”

Once again she found that simple, treacherous words were enough to sway her. She could not let his pain continue so she turned back to find intense blue eyes staring down at her. They were so sad that they decimated the icy defence she tried to erect, leaving her bare and gentle.

“Hush, I am here. I will not turn away from you,” Rhinure promised, cradling the golden head in her palms.

Legolas smiled, making her defeat worthwhile and irrelevant at the same time. When he bent down to claim her mouth in a searing kiss that made her forget everything, she welcomed it. For the next few moments conversation flagged as the need for physical assurance took precedence. And as so often happened with the couple, assurance gave way to pleasure – and pleasure was paramount in their relationship at the moment.

When the two parted, both were breathing heavily and were content to lie together in silence, which Legolas broke by his insistence. “But you will not stay.”

“Please do not start this again.”

“Rhinure, I ask for so little. Can you not give me this at least? Just stay with me for one night.”

Rhinure shook her head, “How can you say that? You ask me to rest with you, to hold me through the night when I am defenceless. To let you guard my sleep and wake up beside you, so you become the last and the first thing I see. All this you ask me and still you call it so little?”

At his blank look, she was ready to cry because he just would not understand. She enjoyed their time together – a lot – but she was just not ready to give up everything to him. That little time to herself, alone in her room right before she went to sleep, was precious to her. She could not give that up – at least, just not yet.

“You do not trust me,” said Legolas flatly.

“How can you say that?” Rhinure asked, hurt that he could say such a horrible thing. “I am here, am I not?

“You will not stay when I ask. How can I think otherwise?” Legolas made to turn away only to be stopped by Rhinure.

“My leaving is only in part because of my misgivings.”

“So you do not trust me.”

“I said misgivings, not mistrust,” Rhinure corrected sharply. “Do not complicate an already difficult situation.”

“I do not understand,” said Legolas plaintively.

“Welcome to my world.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, my Lord. I was saying that trust is only part of it. I believe that sleeping with someone is a huge step. It involves a level of comfort that you and I do not have just yet. It is a melding of identities, a loss of ‘you and I’ to gain an ‘us’. It is a coming together for two people, a joining of two feär into one. Can you understand that I am not ready for this yet?”

Legolas watched her in awe. “I did not realise you were such a romantic.”

Rhinure frowned, “I am not.”

“You most certainly are.” When Rhinure made to get up, affronted at Legolas’ accusation, he gently pushed her back, rolling on top of her to prevent her from moving.

“Get off me.”

“No.”

“Legolas, you are heavy. Get off.” Rhinure pushed at the elf, but it was only a half-heartened attempt since he had started to caress her, hands moving under the sheets.

“You did not complain earlier.” 

Rhinure blushed at the wicked look in his eyes, delighting Legolas, who bent down to kiss her reddened cheeks. “I like it when you blush. I should make you do it more often. Perhaps in front of the entire court.”

Rhinure gasped in outrage, twisting out from under him so suddenly that he fell back, giving her enough time to scramble out from the bed and away from him. Tying the bed sheet around her securely, she glared at him balefully. “Just for that, I am returning to my room now.”

As she made to walk away, Legolas lunged forward, grasping her wrist before she could move too far. 

Rhinure looked down at the strong fingers holding her wrist and then back up at her husband. “Are you going to let me go?”

Legolas shook his head. “Never.”

Pulling her towards him, he lowered her onto the bed and went to remove the sheet keeping her from him. “Not if I can help it.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

The halls were empty, welcoming in their silence. The King was safe in his quarters, or as close to safe as Thranduil could get. There something about that elf, Arandur mused as he completed the last patrol himself, that invited danger. Perhaps it was the wilful defiance of fate which tempted her to interfere in her favourite scion’s life time and time again.

Though sometimes Arandur feared that Thranduil pushed fate too far. What had possessed the King to antagonise Cothion so tonight? Watching the two most important elves in his life bicker in the council room today had torn Arandur until he bled – literally. One of his fists had been clenched so tightly that even his blunt nails had drawn blood.

The other had been kept constantly on his sword, ready to be drawn in an instant.

Arandur wondered if he would have drawn it against Cothion. He wanted to believe he would have if Thranduil had so commanded, but the imperceptible shaking of his hand belied his conviction.

During the council, for one short but unbearable moment, Cothion had turned his knowing gaze on him, as if telling him that the doubt was not as invisible as the younger Avari would have liked to believe. Under that familiar gaze, Arandur felt himself regress to the child he had once been, the child that had sat in his brother’s lap and learnt everything he knew or could hope to know.

But Arandur was no longer a child and Cothion was no longer that wise, knowing brother – if he had ever been.  Perhaps even then he had been moulding Arandur into a willing weapon, to be used when Cothion saw fit. Perhaps he had never loved Arandur.

But that no longer mattered. It had never mattered, Arandur thought to himself fiercely. He was Captain of the Home Guard, Thranduil’s Captain. That was all that mattered. He was Arandur, sworn to serve and obey Thranduil, his King. His Honour demanded nothing less. As long as he remembered that, everything else would fall into place.

Now all he had to do was keep repeating that to himself until Cothion left. Even though Cothion had taught him better, Arandur hoped that this time wishing would make it so. 

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“Legolas.”  Rhinure pushed at the enthusiastic elf on top of her but was rewarded by an incoherent mumble.

“Legolas, are you listening to me?”

“Always,” replied her husband before attacking her mouth again, causing her to swallow her words.

As his mouth trailed down her neck, to the crook of her shoulder, Rhinure took the fleeting opportunity to admonish him. “You are not listening.”

“So?” Legolas was not interested in conversation at the moment, but in his beautiful squirming wife, who was making it very difficult for him to concentrate on anything. 

“Stop.”

“No.”

“Please.”

Legolas growled his refusal, rolling them both to their sides so he had easier access to her.

“Legolas, I am hungry.”

“So am I,” he returned, moulding her to him.

Rhinure managed to twist away, clutching the bed sheet to herself as she sat up. “I meant for food.”

“Well, I did not.”

Rhinure batted away impatient hands, determined to have her way for once. “You made me miss dinner.”

Legolas sighed and lay on his back, frustrated but understanding that Rhinure wanted to talk. And what a thing to talk about when they could be doing something infinitely more interesting! “Are you complaining?”

Rhinure bit her lip to keep herself from smiling and only realised her mistake as the blue eyes watching her intently, darkened visibly. “Anyway, as I was saying, I am hungry.” 

“And I remember replying that so was I,” said Legolas, stroking the smooth calf that peeked out from beneath the sheet. 

Rhinure smacked the questing fingers when they threatened to go higher, causing Legolas to pout. The sight was so endearing that Rhinure forgot her request for the moment and bent forward to kiss him. Legolas welcomed her eagerly, pulling her close, open mouth slanting over hers. It was so addictive that it took quite an effort on her part to scramble back.

“I think I want to eat something.” 

Legolas growled impatiently as his arms were empty once more. “Then do something about it or let me finish.”

That dubious permission was enough to spur Rhinure, who scurried out of bed, flinging her robe on quickly and carelessly.

“Where do you think you are going?” demanded Legolas.

“To the kitchen, to ‘do something about it’.” 

“Come back to bed.”

Rhinure raised a sardonic eyebrow as she belted the robe tightly. “This from someone who a few months ago did not want me near.”

“That is not true,” blurted Legolas, stung that she could bring that up now, even though it was the truth – at least, part of it.

“No? I would be forgiven for thinking it was so. After all, you did take your sweet time inviting me in.”

Rhinure’s arch smile was enough to smooth away the sting of her words – and arouse her husband. His voice was husky when he replied, “Come closer and I will endeavour to make up for that time so carelessly lost.”

Rhinure shook her head, “Not now. Right now there is another mistake we have to correct.” She quickly bundled up her hair into a careless knot which would not stay up for long. Watching her, Legolas felt that now familiar itch to let her hair down and bury his face in it, breathing the faint smell that accompanied Rhinure no matter what. 

“Stop it.” Rhinure ducked her head, causing him to blink in confusion.

“Stop what?”

“Stop looking at me like you wanted to …”

“Like I wanted to?” Legolas smiled, a slow and devastating smile that played havoc with her insides. “Like I wanted to eat you?”

Rhinure did not answer, deeming it best if she left – now.

“Wait.” Legolas frowned, “are you going out like that?”

“Yes. Why?”

He did not answer, looking over his wife and sighing mentally. With her lips swollen from his kisses and her hair tangled from his fingers she looked thoroughly debauched. It was obvious that she had just risen from his bed. “Do not let anybody see you.”

“Why ever not?” Rhinure asked innocently.

“Just because …”

“You do not want people to know that we have been … keeping company? And will be doing so again when I return?” Rhinure asked, not so innocently this time.

Legolas groaned at the wicked look in her eyes, wishing that she was already back. His only consolation was that Rhinure seemed as anxious to return as he was to have her back. As Legolas made himself comfortable, he counted the minutes until she returned.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Arandur’s thoughts swirled around in his head like a dark whirlpool, though he tried to keep his mind on his patrol. If any other cadet had been in an emotional frenzy as he was, Arandur would have put him on kitchen duty for a month. It was unfortunate that he could not do the same for himself. Perhaps Cothion would not notice if he disappeared for a month or so.

Mercifully, a sound in the shadows distracted him from his thoughts. Duty, as ever, proved an effective buffer against emotions. With practised ease he moved into the dark, where even Ithil’s brave light dared not touch him. Quietly, with the lightest of touches, he loosened his sword from its sheath, taking care to make only the slightest of sounds.

However, it seemed it was enough of a warning for the approaching figure. Footprints ceased immediately, forcing Arandur to move closer until he could make out the faint outline of the intruder. The figure obviously knew he was being watched. A hand clutched his robe closer and feet shifted apart subtly. The figure was getting ready to attack, the Captain realised.

Arandur watched the lines of the body and smiled unseen. Only one person stood like the when she was without a weapon.

“Mistress.”

Rhinure fell into a defensive posture when she heard Arandur’s voice. “Come out where I can see you.”

“As you command, Mistress.” Arandur stepped forward, hand still resting on his sword. Now that he was closer he could make Rhinure out more clearly. Taking in her dishevelled state and the robe she wore, he asked sardonically, “Or perhaps I should call you ‘your highness’?”

Rhinure pulled Legolas’ robe tighter around her against that bitter and uncalled-for reproach, belting it securely around her, rolling her shoulders to prepare herself for another battle; which, though different from one fought on the battlefield, drew blood as accurately. “You may call me whatever suit you best, Captain. You do have a choice – Avari or Eldar?”

“I would not presume on your rights. The choice still remains yours.”

“I have chosen, Captain. Have you?” Rhinure swept her now open hair to one side, coiling it into a thick rope. She was pleased to note that Arandur’s eyes followed her movements, though involuntarily. She had no sexual interest in the Captain; Legolas was proving to be a more than suitable bed-mate, a little too suitable, but it was nice to know that she could still attract a male’s attention when needed.  

Arandur’s gaze was most appreciative though it lingered on the exposed side of her neck a little too long.

“Is something wrong, Captain?”

Arandur said nothing, only reached up and gently touched the reddening bruise on the side of Rhinure’s neck. “The Prince?”

It was a soft touch and an achingly concerned question – no unreasonable anger, no protectiveness – just a need for reassurance. No wonder that Rhinure stiffened as if scalded. “Remove your hand, Captain.”

Arandur hastily withdrew at the frosty tone but persisted in his question. “Did the Prince hurt you?”

Rhinure ducked her eyes and chose to answer the question less aggressively than it deserved. Such effrontery would have earned the Avari a stinging response, but Rhinure was just not in the mood for such fireworks. She felt at ease, replete with the pleasure still thrumming through her; so much so that the look she turned on Arandur was utterly feminine and dangerous – to him. “You have never been with an elleth, have you?”

Arandur shook his head and successfully managed to keep himself from blushing. “No, I have not, Mistress.” He had never seen her in such a mood before and was uncertain how to respond.  She had never been one to entrap before, always preferring a more direct approach. With the power she wielding as Sacrifice, she had not needed to rely on being a female for a long time. So long that it was disconcerting to re-learn that she was female, with all the wiles and charms that made ellyth so dangerous to elves.

“I am no longer ‘your highness’, Captain?”

“You never were to me.”

“I wonder if I ever will be,” Rhinure whispered to herself.

“Pardon?”

Rhinure shook her head, partly to clear it and partly to ward off the questions she could see forming in Arandur’s eyes. She should not have been so careless as to voice her private thoughts. Or had she wanted Arandur to hear? After all, who would understand better than the Captain with his divided loyalties?

“If you had been with an elleth,” Rhinure said archly, bringing the subject back to one she had more control over, “you would know that not all marks are of cruelty. Some are just reminders of something a lot more … passionate.” Once again that look that silenced him so effectively.

“If you say so.” Arandur’s voice was patently disbelieving.

“Oh, but I do, Captain – emphatically.” Rhinure walked past Arandur, brushing his arm lightly; this time causing him to stiffen. “Perhaps you should try it sometime.”

Arandur looked down at his beautiful Mistress and knew why his Prince was so fascinated by her. In the dark, with the shadows playing on her face creating a mosaic of darkness and light, she was an attractive sight. She was as seductive as the night with its cool comfort and silent promises. If the bright flame could attract the naive moth than why could not the vain firefly wait for the dark night against which it could shine? But for Arandur she held only an intellectual temptation and a fanatical devotion. She was the Sacrifice, Mistress – equally his guardian and ward. She would never be just an elleth for him, as she was, he hoped, for the Prince. He would just have to wait for that spark, ellon to elleth.

“Perhaps some day I will.”

Rhinure’s eyes softened for she knew who Arandur thought of. Only now that she had Legolas in her life could she begin to understand what it had taken for Arandur to leave – what it had taken Sarniel.

*~ No! Never that. ~*

Rhinure forcibly brought her attention back to Arandur. “May it be soon.”

“From your lips to the ears of Fate, my Sacrifice.” Arandur brought his fist to his heart, bowing over it from the waist up. That combined Avari and Eldar salute was somehow fitting from the Captain.

Rhinure lightly tapped the knuckles resting over that serious devoted heart. “We will have to see if we can open Fate’s ears, shall we not?”

“I have been unsuccessful so far.”

“But unlike before, you are alone no longer.” Rhinure squeezed his hand before moving away.

Before she had moved more than two steps, Rhinure stilled and listened to something in the air. Her back stiffened and the steel returned to her voice. “One more thing, Captain.”

Arandur snapped to attention, heading the warning in her voice.

“Give my regards to the Commander.”

With that, Rhinure left Arandur with one he had been trying his hardest to avoid.

“Hello, brother.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“Commander.”

Arandur stepped back from Cothion, wondering how long the older elf had been watching and how he could have missed his brother’s presence? Once again the older elf had managed to catch him at a disadvantage, to show that, despite Arandur’s caution and care, he would never be as good as his brother.

Cothion watched Rhinure receding back for a few minutes before casually observing, “She has changed, has she not?”

The question was phrased carelessly enough that Arandur almost believed that Cothion was making casual conversation. However, he knew his brother well enough not to fool himself. “Do you think so? In what way?” he asked cautiously.

“Answering a question with a question, committing no answer but leaving room for interpretation nonetheless. Very good, brother. I had despaired of your forgetting such tactics after such time away from your people.”

“I do not forget, Commander,” said Arandur with pointed stress on Cothion’s title, highlighting the other’s inappropriate familiarity. He imagined he saw a flash of hurt on the Avari’s face but the illusion passed, and Arandur faced the Commander once more.

“That is good. A long memory may prove useful, yet.”

“What do you hint at?” Arandur asked directly, taking Cothion by surprise with his directness. Some things were done better the Silvan way.

“I am just making conversation. May I not do so with one who once considered me family?” countered Cothion smoothly.

“You never just do anything, Cothion. If you have finished wasting my time, may I complete my rounds?” Arandur winced at his choice of words. He should not have had to ask for permission; there was no need to ask Cothion for anything. He was the Captain of the Guard and Cothion a mere guest. The days when he turned to the older brother for consent were over.

If Cothion noticed the slip, he did not say anything. He was more engaged in controlling the exaltation that brimmed in him at hearing his name from Arandur’s lips. Such a simple thing to have yearned for and to bring so much troublesome joy. “May I accompany you?” The words came out has a little more hopeful than he would have wished, but there were said and he could not take them back.

 “So you may check if I do my duties correct? I think not,” said Arandur bitterly. 

Cothion stopped short, forcing Arandur to stop as well by the simple expedient of keeping a firm hand on his shoulder. “I have not needed to oversee your duties since you wore the first ring. You are an adult and I have always treated you as such. Do not belittle that trust no matter what else you choose to ignore. You serve and you serve well. I know this, I have always known this. To imply anything else would be an insult and a lie.”

Arandur swallowed and managed to keep his apology inside. He had forgotten how Cothion could be when his honour was impugned. “I will not apologise.” Even to himself, Arandur sounded like a petulant child, a child hitting out at what had caused him pain.

“I would not ask you to. With me, there will never be such need. That much honesty we both can share.”

Arandur nodded. “Come, there are Halls yet I need to walk tonight and time passes.”

“Lead on, Captain.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Rhinure watched the two brothers turn the corner and then pushed herself away from the wall she was leaning against. She was not surprised that neither elf had noticed her listening in – and that worried her. For both warriors to be so careless … Rhinure shivered, forcibly stopping herself from completing that thought.

Empty-handed, appetite lost, she headed back towards Legolas’ rooms. Her mind churned with unwelcome thoughts, faint hopes that Cothion and Arandur would resolve things between them and the dread too if they did. Blood cried out to Blood after all and everyone deserved a chance to fight to keep their families, even Cothion.

But she dreaded that resolution as well. She dreaded anything that gave Cothion an avenue to the Wood-elves and their lives. The Captain of the Home Guard was an important piece in Eryn Lasgalen’s machinery – and who knew how Cothion would use such a tool if given a chance? Not that Rhinure believed that Arandur would ever allow such a betrayal of the trust placed in him but Cothion knew what strings to pull to keep his puppets dancing without knowing that they were constrained.

Should Rhinure warn Arandur? But if she did she would ruin his chance to regain his brother. What right did she have to do that when she had no proof and only misgivings? She should wait and give the two the chance to rebuild what was lost – and hope that Arandur managed to remain wary.

Rhinure bit her lip, not liking that option particularly. Arandur deserved better.

Just outside Legolas’ door Rhinure paused, swaying as another, colder option came to her. Why not encourage and even tighten the strings surrounding the brothers, no matter what Cothion did or did not do? For was the Captain not an important part of the Silvan’s lives?

Rhinure’s hand shook as she opened the door – too much to think about. This decision was not one to be taken lightly, so intertwined was it with the rest of her life. She would take her leave of Legolas and retire to her chambers where she would consider this more carefully. 

“What is wrong, my Lady?”

Legolas’ question startled her since she had not realised that she had entered the room. She had not had time to construct her excuses. “Nothing, my Lord.”

“You did not bring food.”

“I decided that I was not hungry.”

Legolas smiled. “Then come back to bed for I find that I am.”

Rhinure vacillated. Watching Legolas smile at her, she felt the familiar heat rise; she could wait until the morning to sort everything out. But on the other hand, she was tired. Rhinure stepped back hastily when Legolas made a move to come get her.  

Legolas stopped and sat back down with a frown on his beautiful, distracting face. “What is wrong, my Lady?” This time the question could not be brushed aside, he would not allow it.

“Nothing to concern you about, my Lord.” Rhinure turned towards the connecting balcony. “I am just exhausted. I think it would be best if I take my leave and retire for the night.”

Legolas flung back the covers and made his way to her side. “Stop.” Rhinure turned and watched Legolas slip on a robe. As he roughly tied it close, Rhinure wondered how she was going to handle this mess. If she ignored him and walked off, would he follow?

As if he could hear her thoughts, Legolas pre-empted her decision by taking her arm and dragging her away from the window back to the centre of the room, as if she were an errant child. “Now explain,” Legolas demanded.

“Explain what, my Lord?” Rhinure asked carefully.

“Something happened when you left my room. Something that made you lose that half smile that took so long to bring out.” Legolas brushed the stubborn lips, even now closing in on themselves in a thin line. “Do not,” he whispered.

“Do not do what?” Rhinure asked, confused at the change in tone.

“You have such a beautiful mouth, such full … kissable lips. Do not purse them so.”

Surprise made Rhinure’s lips part. She had not been expecting this.  But then why was she surprised?  He did this so often that it was nauseatingly familiar—but it did not stop the manoeuvre from being deadly effective. She looked up with bewildered and unguarded eyes. 

“Better, much better.” Legolas smiled, all the while caressing her lips. “Come, sit.” This time Rhinure followed, a little dazed. Legolas sat down on the bed, gently pulling her down so that she was cradled against him. “Now, tell me.”

“There is nothing to tell,” said Rhinure wearily, resting for just a moment against his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his heart beat. Legolas said nothing, knowing she would speak in time – she had to.

“I saw Cothion tonight,” Rhinure said after a silent minute. Legolas could not help it, he instinctively stiffened at the sound of the Avari’s name.

“Stop it, please,” Rhinure pleaded. Legolas looked down at her immediately without realising that the jealous rage still burned his blue eyes. She bit her lip and raised an anxious hand to his jaw. “You have nothing to be concerned about.” When Legolas’ expression did not change she continued, “You must believe me.”

Legolas sighed and forced himself to calm down. He knew that Cothion and Rhinure shared nothing romantic but that did not mean that the older elf was not a threat to their relationship. Legolas had been a warrior too long not to recognise a rival when he saw one. “So you saw Cothion tonight,” Legolas prompted, putting his temper on a simmer for now.  He would deal with it later when Rhinure was not present to watch him explode. Right now he much preferred to concentrate on his wife.

“I saw him with Arandur.”

“And that concerns you?” Legolas wondered. “The Captain must have come across your Commander on his night patrol.”

“Cothion went looking for Arandur.”

Legolas frowned at his wife. “Why would Cothion seek out the Captain?”

Rhinure bit her lip lightly, distracting Legolas from the question. Before she could say anything further, he bent down to quickly kiss her. “Now, continue.”

Rhinure quashed her annoyance for she needed to fully concentrate on how she was going to phrase her answer, not on how brief the kiss was. Of course, Legolas was not making it easy by running gentle fingers through her hair.

“Rhinure?” Legolas prodded as he tucked a long strand of raven hair behind her ear. And then, because he could not help it, he caressed the tapered end, delighting when she sighed in pleasurable response.

“Can we not speak about it?”

Rhinure’s eyes were huge in her pale face and their full force was turned on him. He sighed in defeat, whatever it was could wait. “If you wish.”   

“Thank you,” Rhinure sighed and laid her head back on Legolas’ chest, listening to his heartbeat, the rhythm soothing her. Slowly, as she calmed, she wound her arms around his neck, bringing his mouth down on hers. Conversation flagged as Legolas rolled her onto her back, mouths never breaking contact.

When finally they broke apart, Legolas asked breathlessly, “I thought you were tired.”

“I changed my mind. I am allowed to do that that,” Rhinure whispered in Legolas’ ear along with promises that made his cheeks burn. “I can see why you like me to blush.”

“I also like it when you change your mind,” managed Legolas before Rhinure made conversation redundant.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

As the night and his shift neared his end, the tired guard yawned and dared a stretch, certain that no one was around to watch him. Unfortunately, he was unable to complete it for the Captain’s familiar form stepped around the corner. He had the most inconvenient timing. Though it was difficult to move from a stretch to full attention, somehow the elf managed it.

“Greetings, Captain.”

Arandur frowned. “Report to me after your watch is done and I will inform of your extra duties this week.”

The poor guard winced as the Captain and that scary looking elf walked past him. He had forgotten to challenge the Captain, greeting him before the counter-sign was given. At leas he had only been punished with a week of extra duties. The last time the Captain had caught someone sleeping on his watch he had given the poor ellon a month of double-shifts, letting him sleep and eat just enough so that he was able to perform.

Suffice to say, that guard was most vigilant now. In fact, that month had shortened his sleep cycle considerably, a fact that his wife was not been pleased about. Her sleep cycle had been shortened, too, after all.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Cothion glanced at Arandur as they continued down the corridor. “You are firm with your guards.”

“Are you suggesting that I should not be?” Arandur demanded, keeping his gaze firmly ahead.

 Cothion stopped, forcing Arandur to do the same or leave the older elf behind. “Why do you take everything I say as an accusation, little one? I was just making an observation.”

Arandur turned to face his brother, standing with his hands carefully folded behind his back. “Perhaps because I am unused to hearing anything except accusation and double meaning from you.”

Cothion shook his head. “I do – sometimes – have a general, polite conversation with other elves.”

“Truly – who?”

“I would have one with you if you would let me.”

Arandur looked squarely into the older elf’s eyes before shrugging and continuing on his way.

“I will consider it.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Much to Legolas’ disappointment Rhinure pulled back, allowing their kiss to become gentle instead of passionate. This was one situation where they were not going to end up in bed.

*~ I wonder if I kiss her again, I can change her mind. ~*

“Do not dare.”

Legolas blinked, had he spoken aloud? He did not think so. He carefully replayed the last minute and realised that he most definitely had kept silent – as was best around his wife.

“Did you hear me?” Legolas asked uncertainly, for the briefest of seconds wondering if their feär had brushed so close. But no, there was no link.

“I do not need to hear you to know what you are thinking – or at least, when you are thinking of taking me to bed,” Rhinure amended fairly.

Legolas ignored the faint disappointment to comment leeringly, “What am I thinking now?” He slowly traced one finger down her sternum, only to be rewarded with a sharp slap on his knuckles. He quickly withdrew his hand, though he was careful to keep her firm hold on her waist with his other.

“I have not been struck so much since I was an elfling.”

Rhinure took the injured palm and cradled in against her chest, soothing the poor injured limb. “That is probably because you have never put your hand in so many off-limit places since you were a child.”

“And it is still as much fun as I remember,” said Legolas huskily, able to feel Rhinure’s smooth skin under his palm but not being able to explore it as he wished.

“You are incorrigible. Is that all you think about?” Rhinure stepped back.

“Not all the time – just most of it,” Legolas said sheepishly. Rhinure sighed and turned away. 

“Are you telling me you do not?”

Rhinure smiled and looked over her shoulder, “No – just every waking moment and most of the sleeping ones as well.”

It took Legolas a moment to realise that she was teasing him. 

“My Lady, I do believe you are mocking me.”

“I always preferred jesting as a word.”

“Come here.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“So have you thought about it?” 

“You will not give up, will you?

“No.”

Arandur did not slow his pace as he asked, “What do you wish to speak of?”

“Is that assent?”

“That is a question. Even general conversations can have a gist.”

“Mayhap you should begin,” said Cothion, hesitating now that he had the chance he had waited so long for.

“I did not ask for this conversation.” Arandur gave the password to the next sentry, pleased to notice that his way was barred until he did.

“You spoke the password in front of me.”

“Is that what you wished to speak of?”

“Will you change it tomorrow?” asked Cothion, ignoring Arandur’s question for one of his own.

“No.” Arandur quickened his pace, eager to finish this patrol and leave, preferably without Cothion following him.

“Do you expect me to believe that?” Cothion, too, walked faster, keeping abreast of the younger elf.

“No.”

“Then why did you answer so?”

“The question deserved it. When you knew what the answer should and would be, why did you ask?” Before Cothion could reply, Arandur continued, “Since you obviously have nothing to say, I will take me leave of you.”

“Wait,” Cothion interjected, “this time the question is real.”

“I am waiting.”

“You changed your patrolling route tonight, did you not?”

“Why do you say that?”

“The guards were too surprised to see you for this to be routine. And knowing what I know of you, you would not patrol such an easy, well-defended route yourself. You would only keep the most vulnerable spot under your direct supervision.”

“Perhaps this was a surprise inspection.”

“Or perhaps you did not want me to see the chink in Mirkwood’s armour.”

“You of course forget one more possibility, Commander.”

“Which is?”

“That you do not know me as well as you think. This very well could be my normal route.”

“Is it?”

Under the intense and knowing gaze of the Avari Heir, Arandur was forced to be honest. “No.”

“Then I am correct.”

“If you wish to think so, then you may. And now, if there is nothing more, I bid you goodnight.” Arandur stopped near the entrance of the guest wing. “Your room is through here, around the right corner.”

“I know. I, at least, have not changed so much as to forget a route once shown to me.” Cothion said smugly.

Arandur shook his head, “You were always good with directions – giving them as well as remembering.” Arandur bit his tongue but it was too late to take back the bitter words.

 “And you were always the best at following them.” Cothion looked at Arandur, committing the face to his collection. “Are you still so?” he asked gently, hoping for more time with his brother even though he knew that the answer would be yes.

“Naturally, that is what I do best–obey.”

“And whom do you obey?” Cothion asked, holding his breath slightly. Would Arandur answer as he expected – as he hoped.

“My King,” said Arandur firmly. There was no hesitation in his voice, though inwardly he questioned whether the answer was truthful or just meant to hurt the older elf. This was a question he had often asked himself but had unable to find an answer. Why was he so confident now?

“And what of your obedience to your people?” Cothion demanded, stung at the words.

“I know what you are doing, Commander, and it will not work. I will not be forced to choose between my duty and my people.”

“And if that choice came?” Cothion persisted. The choice would come; Cothion knew it and he wanted his brother by his side – the right side.

Arandur face twisted but he did not hesitate. “Then the Avari would lose.” As soon as the words left him he blinked, dazed that he had said such a thing. Was this the truth that he had been hiding been for so long? The truth which he had accepted but never acknowledged for it completed his desertion?

Cothion sucked his breath, shocked that Arandur would admit so much and so openly. “You would ignore all ties to your people so easily?”

“I did not say it would be easy – but if my people make me choose then, yes, I would choose the King,” insisted Arandur. He hoped he would never be put to the choice, but he feared that Cothion asked with deliberate intent. What did his brother know to ask him such an intemperate question?

“I do not believe you.”

“That is your choice.” Arandur started to walk away once more when Cothion stopped him again.

“Why?” asked Cothion softly.

“Because in all the time I have known him, the King has never done anything which would make me doubt him.” Arandur believed that – if there was anything he believed it was that.

“And the Avari have?” Cothion demanded.

“The Avari took my life away from me.”

“But they gave you this one too,” Cothion reminded the younger elf.

“This life would have not been a life if it had not been for the King.”

“Explain.”

“The King accepted me into his world and gave me a change to prove my Honour – something which the Avari denied me when they sent me away. He let me serve when they did not,” Arandur swallowed before forging ahead, “when you did not let me serve.”

“You did … do serve, by being here,” Cothion insisted. He was unsure was to say in the face of such conviction. Arandur was trying to hurt him, Cothion could see that but neither was he lying. What has Thranduil done to steal his brother from him?

“Perhaps – but in your place the King would have found a way to let me be with my people and still serve.”  Arandur turned away, lump forming in his throat. Thranduil would have found a way, he believed that – he had to believe that.

“That is speculation of the worst kind, born of wishful thinking.” Cothion pointed out, struggling to control his anger. He was convinced that Arandur was trying to hurt him but he would not succumb, he would not let this trick work.

“It is speculation based on what I know of the King. I have seen him fight against the darkness, against all odds and still win. He would have found a way.” The more he repeated it, the stronger the conviction became.

If he said it often enough perhaps he could convince Cothion too and maybe then Cothion would leave him alone. “And I also know,” Arandur paused until he was sure Cothion was listening, “if the King makes me choose it will be because such a choice is forced upon him.”

“And you think the Avari would not be similarly forced!”

“There is always a choice – have the Avari not always taught us that? Do you now tell me that we have been taught wrongly?”

“I am saying that sometimes life is not so simple that is can be captured in simple maxims.”

“Then the Avari have misled us all – what else have they lied about?”

“We do not lie – especially to our own.”

“Then we are wrong.”

“At least you still consider yourself as one of us,” Cothion pointed out gently, taking hope from the admission.

Arandur shook his head. “Goodnight, Commander.”

Cothion called after the dark elf, but the Captain determinedly marched on as if he could not hear. Cothion watched until the shadows swallowed his brother and then stood watching the hall a little longer.

He did not know how long he stood there before he was aware of another pair of eyes watching him. His senses were so dulled by the conversation that it took him a while to realise that the gaze was not friendly. Not necessarily unfriendly, but whoever watched him was no friend. Cothion turned carefully, taking in the Hall, but he found nothing. Whoever spied on him, and he was sure it was a spy, was very good.

Cothion smiled, relishing the distraction. He knew he would be watched as soon as he entered Mirkwood, but he had not realised he merited such talent. Easing his sword from his sheath, enjoying the sound of the metal in the silence, he wondered if Mistress knew the Avari were watched. If not he would have to tell her, and tell her now. 

With that Cothion strode off towards Rhinure’s chambers, determined to share his misery with someone tonight.

Or was it to make someone miserable tonight?

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Maenon let out a deep breath as Cothion left the Hall. That had been close – interesting, but close. He had not expected the Avari to have been so perceptive as to sense his presence. The Avari Commander was good, better than his Mistress. But Maenon could see why he did not lead his people.

The little Princess had managed to control herself and help the Captain. The Commander had just managed to hurt his brother; Maenon was too experienced not to recognise the anger for what it was. Maenon had never seen Arandur lash out like that before. In some ways it was comforting to know that a living, hurting heart beat under that stone chest. There was hope yet for the Captain. 

And even more interesting – Arandur and Cothion was brothers. Maenon wondering if the King knew. If he did not, would Arandur tell him? Would he mention this conversation and the pointed question Cothion was asking? Making the Captain of the Home Guard choose against his King was sedition. The King would have to be informed and if Arandur did not do it, Maenon would do it himself in the morning.

Maenon smiled as he walked away from the corridor. The King had been right about Arandur – the Avari had not given in to his people. His loyalties lay with the King, even if he did not know it. That instinctive answer had been more revealing that Arandur would have like. Thranduil had read his Captain well. Maenon had though Thranduil’s faith in the dark elf misplaced and had recommended a closer watch on the Avari, if not complete removal. Thranduil had rejected the suggestion immediately, and he had been proved right.

Yes, the King would be pleased. Things were falling into place as he had predicted.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x