One Flesh, One Soul. Part I by FellFireFan

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Chapter 12

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Chapter warning: Chapter contains violence and sexual themes.

 

 

    The assault on the men was savage. Under the cover of darkness, the orcs descended upon the unsuspecting families as they slept in their tents. Screams and roars filled the terror of the night as the victims were brutally slaughtered and eaten. Orcs, minions of the dark lord Morgoth, showed no mercy and left no survivors in their wake. News of this horrific massacre of men, women, and children reached the ears of Boromir, who, weakened by illness, could not partake in the pursuit of justice. Instead, he entrusted the responsibility to his son, Bregor, who wasted no time in assembling a formidable army of courageous men.

    Equipped with his father's sword and Aegnor's cherished blade, a gift from Andreth, Bregor led his forces into battle. With unwavering determination, he launched a surprise attack on the large gathering of orcs, catching them off guard. The initial clash proved to be a gruelling test for the inexperienced Bregor, as he was quickly thrown from his horse and forced to continue the fight on foot. The orcs swiftly gained the upper hand, mercilessly slaughtering the men, one by one. Their bloodcurdling screams echoed through the night as they were torn apart and feasted upon by the orcs' insatiable hunger.

    Cornered and outnumbered, Bregor found himself trapped amidst a snarling horde of ravenous orcs. Their yellowed teeth glistened with primal hunger, poised to feast upon his flesh. The ancestral sword, a relic passed down from his father, was ripped from his trembling grasp. Panic gripped his heart as the orcs, laughing and snarling maniacally closed in, their confidence soaring with each step. With a desperate scramble, Bregor lost his footing, stumbling backwards in a frantic attempt to evade their clutches. But as the ravenous creatures lunged toward him, their claws and fangs bared, ready to tear him apart, a glimmering memory resurfaced in his mind—Aegnor's elven blade, the gift from his beloved sister, sheathed at his side. Without a moment's hesitation, he desperately drew the weapon from its scabbard, its gleaming edge tearing through the tense ring of orcs. She was branding the sword before the grotesque faces of his assailants.

    The moment the orcs laid eyes upon the elven blade, a chilling wave of terror washed over them. The closest orc froze in its tracks, emitting a primal shriek that pierced the air, its snarl of aggression replaced by pure, unadulterated terror causing a ripple through the bloodthirsty horde.

    The orcs recoiled violently from the sight of the blade. It dawned upon Bregor, with a sudden clarity, why the mere sight of this weapon had such a profound effect on his assailants. The blade carried the very essence of its true owner, his scent reaching the sensitive noses of the orcs sending them into a debilitating panic. Sensing a powerful authority emanating from the weapon, Bregor brandished it in front of them, taunting them with its presence. He mockingly charged forward, stopping just short of them. The orcs recoiled in terror, their unity shattered. Unable to withstand its presence among them any further, the orcs lost all nerve and, driven by their uncontrolled fear, viciously turned on one another. Slaughtering their own kind as Bregor watched bewilderingly.  The numbers dwindled until only a handful remained, and they fled in terror. Bregor, joined by the few surviving men, pursued them relentlessly until victory was achieved.

   However, the traumatic ordeal took its toll on Bregor's soldiers. Upon the long and wearisome journey home, one soldier, unable to bear the weight of the horrors witnessed, fell upon his own sword and took his own life. This fallen comrade had been a childhood friend of Bregor's, intensifying his grief and causing him to weep bitterly for many, many days.

    With a heavy heart, Bregor carried his friend's lifeless body back to Ladros, where he laid him to rest in a solemn burial. The cost of victory was etched deeply into Bregor's soul, a reminder of the sacrifices made in the face of unspeakable evil.

    Alone in his chambers, Bregor sat by the fire after washing his healing battle wounds with water. The horrors of his first battle still etched in his mind, and the grief of losing his most cherished friend burdened him greatly. As the firelight flickered on his muscular frame, a slender figure entered. Her features were soft, and her hair was fair, like the golden summer rain. His beautiful wife Variel, always loyal and gentle, came to comfort her husband. Sitting beside him upon their bed. She cleansed his wounds with her soft hands. Bregor welcomed her soft touch as she tenderly stroked his face and neck. The crackle of the fire echoed around them, and Bregor's vacant stare upset her greatly.

   "Will you not look at me, my husband?" Variel whispered into his arm. A tear spilt from his eye as he slowly turned to her. His dark hair coiled around his stubble jaw.

   "You did everything you could, my love," she whispered, gently brushing his hair away from his eyes.

   "I failed... I failed," he whimpered.

    "No," she replied, "You have returned to me safe and well, and that is all I ask of you, for my sake and our son." Her voice carried a soft determination.

  "I can not protect you, Variel! I can't fight those things!" he bubbled. She tenderly kissed the curve of his shoulder and stroked his hair. She saw his hands tightly gripping around Aegnor's blade. The memory of its power and how it saved his life, the fear it instilled in the orcs just by looking upon it replayed in his mind.

   "The blade in my hand, It belongs to a man far greater than I. His essence still seeps from it, the fear in the eyes of those creatures when they saw it...it was mt only saviour. Such power I can only dream of attaining." He sighed despairingly.

   Noticing his growing anguish, carefully, Variel took the blade from his hands and placed it down. Locking her gaze with Bregor's, she pressed her lips against his in a tender kiss. Bregor immediately embraced her, their lips meeting with fervour. They briefly parted, and she whispered in his ear, "Let us make love, my lord... allow me to be the vessel for your worries. Let me comfort you, as your lady and your wife,"

    Bregor readily succumbed to her. They eased themselves onto the bed, their bodies entwined, and their passion ignited. In this sacred embrace, Bregor found comfort and release from the burdens that weighed upon him. Variel, with her strong heart and her soft body, became his sanctuary, offering him solace within her. With every caress and embrace, she nourished his weary spirit until he reached the pinnacle of release within her, melting away his wearisome burdens and refreshing his troubled soul.

    After they surrendered to the ecstasy, they lay intertwined, spent, and utterly content. The rising sun painted the room in soft hues as its rays greeted their skin, heralding the arrival of a new day. Bregor and Variel remained locked in each other's arms, finding complete comfort and renewal in their shared embrace.

 

○○○

 Ladros

 382 A.D.

 

During the following eight months after Bregor's triumph over the orcs, Boromir, still recovering from his illness, took to his sickbed and penned a heartfelt letter to Felugund. Finrod, without hesitation, made immediate arrangements for a momentous gathering .to take place between the elves and men at the serene Lake Aeluin. Boromir gathered his family and prepared them for the journey ahead. Despite Variel's large, swollen belly, she insisted on accompanying them. Bregor harboured concerns for her well-being, but knowing her fondness for the elven lords would not deny her this joyous memory.  Andreth, on the other hand, expressed reluctance to go, torn between her desire to stay by her father's side, but his fervent insistence that she attended soon changed her mind.

   In a deep melancholy, Andreth packed her essentials for the long trip ahead. Her eyes were captivated by the sight of Aegnor's blade, resting on the bed in front of her. A moment of stillness enveloped the room as she found herself drawn to it. With a deliberate slowness, she extended her hand and gracefully caressed the hilt. A profound admiration for its supreme beauty washed over her, intertwining with the memories. Her fingers traced the contours of the blade in its leather scabbard. A painful choke tightened in her throat. She fought hard to resist the pain in her chest, yet it overwhelmed her, and her tears of sincere regret spilt down her soft cheek. She picked it up and held it close. How she missed him.

   She collapsed in a heap upon the floor beneath the weight of her anguish, her grey velvet dress sprawled around her. She released the punishing grief within her heart and sobbed passionately. Her tears pooled onto the floor.

   "I was wrong," her thoughts plagued her as she wept upon her bed during the many nights she waited for sleep. But sleep would never come to her. Her thoughts on their last meeting consumed her, fuelling her deep regret in her abandon of him in that raw moment of utter fragility. She left him. Too consumed with fear and selfishness. For a fleeting moment of desperation, she had forgotten all that he was to her and all that he had meant. She had lost him, never to look upon his eyes again.

   The caress of his fingers still lingered on her cheek. The promise of his lips, hovering so close to hers...these were the memories of him she clung to, though bittersweet they were, that she could continue to dream of what almost was and what could have been hers. Perhaps Finrod could offer her some solace. For at least through him, she could enquire as to Aegnor's welfare and that he was alive and well. This at least would put her mind at ease. He was, after all, his own brother, and through him, she would find peace.

    She collected herself and rose. She finished packing until a knock was heard at her door.

   "Andreth? It is Variel, may I come in?" A sweet, muffled voice sounded behind the large oak door. Andreth opened, and she entered with a bright beaming smile. Her belly was fully round and heavy with child. Andreth embraced her and guided her to her bed, sitting her down. She grabbed a footstool and placed it under Variel's feet.

   "Oh Andreth, my dear sister, you need not bother with my comfort so much. Your brother fusses enough, I have come here for some respite from him!" She jested. Andreth smiled as she sat on the bed next to her. Variel caressed her belly tenderly, glowing with happiness. "It shalt be long now, will it little one?" Variel spoke into her belly. A tear fell from Andreths eye, and her gaze dropped to the floor in deep sadness. Variel saw her and grasped her hand. "My dear Andreth, what troubles you so?"  She whispered.

    Andreth's tears flooded, and she began to weep. Variel moved closer, her large belly awkwardly shifting with her movements. She comforted her sister in law with sincere tenderness.

   "There is a secret that weighs heavily upon my heart," she croaked. "A love that I have denied myself, a light extinguished by the shadows of my own making," Andreth spoke, her words trembling with the burden of unspoken love.

   Variel's brow furrowed with concern as she reached out, her fingers gently grasping her delicate hands. "Oh, Andreth," she breathed, her voice tinged with sorrow, "I did not know... Amidst the joyous anticipation of new life in this house, we failed to see the deep anguish that has been consuming you." She tenderly brushed a lock of dark hair back and tucked it behind Andreth's ear.

   "At times, even in our greatest need, our hearts betray us. Perhaps there is still hope," she comforted her.

   Andreth shook her head and wiped her tears from her nose. "Nay, not for I," she sniffed. "For I was loved by the fair ones, whose hearts are far guarded, with no hope at a second chance."

   "I am so sorry, my dear sister, I wish I knew the words to say," Variel moaned

   "Your consolation in this great time of my distress has brought me comfort beyond measurement, Variel. For that, I am eternally thankful," she smiled.

   "I shall leave you alone for now. We ride at the break of day. Try and rest and think of other things." Variel smiled and stood. She placed a tender kiss on Andreths forehead before departing, wishing her a goodnight. Andreth lay down and closed her tired, weepy eyes. But no rest came.

    At day break, Bregor, Andreth, and Beryl all mounted their horses, ready to embark on their journey to Lake Aeluin. Accompanied by a retinue of servants and guards. Lady Anthel travelled in a comfortable closed wagon at the rear, her old age proving too difficult to ride. Beryl, the youngest and most spirited of the siblings, chattered ceaselessly to Andreth, expressing her eager anticipation of meeting Finrod Felugund. She lamented her lack of a suitable dress. Despite having a wardrobe filled with luxurious clothing, that surpassed even what Andreth or Variel possessed. However, amid Beryl's abundant words, Andreth's mind was burdened by more pressing concerns, leaving her little room for conversation. She barely exchanged a glance with her younger sister, lost in her own depressive thoughts.

     They arrived at a brook, Variel dismounted clumsily once more, eager to relieve herself once again of the call of nature and to quench her thirst for the crystal-clear water. Bregor stood steadfastly by her side, with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Guarding his beloved wife as she drank. Andreth, feeling weary from the trip, settled down near a large rock to rest. Yet, her attention was abruptly diverted by Beryl's giggles emanating from the secluded trees. Andreth followed the sound, and as she approached, her heart sank at the sight before her.  

   There stood a young soldier, his lips and hands upon Beryl, as they locked in an intimate embrace. Andreth immediately reached for her blade, and she ran at them, throwing herself between the young soldier and her sister, her face contorted with searing rage. Upon seeing Andreth with her gleaming elven weapon drawn and poised, the young man dropped to his knees, begging for forgiveness. Beryl pleaded with Andreth to spare him.

    "If it were my brother in my place, your transgression would have cost you your life!" Andreth hissed, her eyes blazing with fury. "How dare you put your hands on my sister, and defile her when she is not yet of consenting age!" She snarled, advancing toward him. "I dismiss you from our service! Depart now, or you will feel his wrath upon you!"

   Without uttering a word, the young man swiftly rose to his feet and fled, leaving Beryl behind in distress.

   "Why did you do that!?!" Beryl screamed. "We were going to be married!"

   Andreth's anger boiled over as she glared at Beryl. "Married!? You are fifteen years of age!" Andreth roared.

  "Because you reject every suitor who comes to you, does not mean I will carve the same path! I would rather die than become a dried out old maid like you!" Beryl cried.

   Andreth gazed at her silently. Her expression fell. Beryl stomped away. Leaving her older sister alone to the comfort of the forest sounds. As dusk settled upon the serene lake, its glassy surface reflected the fading light, enhancing its celestial beauty. It seemed like a portal to another realm, captivating all who laid eyes upon it. The waiting elves greeted the trio upon their arrival, their presence adding an air of enchantment to the scene. In the heart of the camp, a grand fire roared, casting dancing shadows and providing warmth. 

   After dismounting, Bregor sat about ensuring the comfort of his wife and his mother. As Andreth was yet revealing to Bregor what had happened to Beryl upon the journey, an elf approached them. His dark braided hair flowed down his slender frame. There was an air of serenity that enveloped him. Upon his head sat a simple silver circlet. He seemed to glide on air as he came. He bowed to Bregor with his arm folded across his chest and his fist upon his heart.

   "Bregor, of the house of Beör, son of Boromir. I am a steward of my lord Finrod." He spoke, his voice was like crystal.

   "It pleases my heart to meet you. Where is he? Is he not among us?" Bregor replied.

   "My lord has taken to the woodland to hunt for game. He will return shortly," he responded.

   "He need not worry, we have brought food a plenty with us, the fruit harvest was generous to us this year!"

    "My lord Finrod has a refined palette, nothing short of the best meat for his guests. And with his brother Aegnor leading the hunt, they are sure to return with a bountiful kill," Andreth's gaze lightened up,

  "Pardon my lord, but did you say that Aegnor was with him?" She asked.

  "Indeed," he replied formally. "To see all three of the princes of Finarfin ride together is certainly a sight to behold and one deserving of marking," He turned around as if something had caught his attention. He listened quietly. "Ah, here come our lords now, I must depart!" 

   He swiftly bowed and walked away in preparation to greet the sons of Finarfin who were swiftly riding toward the camp from the forest. Her heart pounded in her chest. Finally, the soft rumble of galloping hooves from the treeline met their ears. Cheering grew as all eyes cast the darkening woodlands. Side by side in a perfect line, three horses appeared. On their backs sat Finrod, Angrod, and Aegnor. Strapped behind them lay their spoils. Three impressive deer carcasses. Their pelts, thick and shiny.

    They walked their horses into the encampment. Andreth took refuge behind the cloth of a tent. Her eyes fixed upon Aegnor. Smiling down upon the small croud of men and women, who eagerly ran to him. She took in every detail of him. Leaning back on Sorna, his prized black stallion, he pulled the reigns to a halt. His muscles strained against the fabric of his clothing. His straight, lean waist bending as he dismounted with one powerful swing of his leg, dropping onto the floor and into the waiting arms of his admirers. All eager to greet their beloved lord. Arm clasps and prolonged embraces envelop him at his every turn. A broad, captivating grin stretched upon his face. He seemed to her in that moment, so completely happy. It was as though he had forgotten all about the anguish that once plagued him.

   "Perhaps...I have spared him, and I had made the right choice," she said to herself, her sad eyes matching her tone. Within her body, a strange sensation began to rise. She felt as though it would burst from her chest. At that moment, Aegnor's bright smile died immediately, and he placed his hand on his chest, as if physically trying to stop something bursting forth from it. An intense pull he had never known before, he looked up to Andreth's position. She remained behind the sheet. Hidden away from his view. His chest felt tight as well as hers, their fëas crying out to one another. 

   She peeked out behind the tent to see he was gone. Long melded with the crowd.

   "Lady Andreth!" The rich voice reached her ears, and she turned and smiled at the approaching figure.

   "Lord Angrod!" She exclaimed, a wave of merriment infusing her soft voice as she graciously bowed in greeting.

   "We hoped to see you here. My brother's and I. How fares your father?" He asked.

   "How kind it is for you to think of my father in this troublesome time, his illness has taken it's toll, but he is determined to see it through" she replied, "I can see your hunt was fruitful."

   "The fruits of Aegnor's success," Angrod smiled proudly, "and there is plenty for all." Sadness enveloped her.

   "The siege grows ever more weary upon us. Tonight is a celebration for all, and the mood light and filled with cheer. Enjoy it," Angrod smiled and bowed, dismissing himself to join the party.

   Andreth watched him meld into the crowd. His resemblance to Aegnor was uncanny. Though, he lacked his fiery gaze that both enchanted and frightened her. She sighed deeply.

   "I should not have come...I should not have come,"  she trembled. Her petrified heart felt a flutter. Her tears overwhelmed her."I can not bear to look into his eyes again, knowing I abandoned him,"

  After taking a private moment to collect herself, she emerged from her secluded spot behind the tent. She noticed the bright smiles on everyone's faces and the shimmering glow of Finrod in conversation with her brother and his wife in the distance.  She had nowhere to hide. In her gown of deep crimson, she joined the crowd of men and women around the fire. Noise and laughter fluttered around her as she walked serenely through them. The big central fire illuminated her. She seemed to glow in its glory. Undeniably beautiful, she was, yet, so very sad. She felt so alone. Utterly lost in this world without him. It was in this great time of sadness and need that she felt a powerful presence standing behind her.

    She slowed to a stop and slowly turned around, her movements like that of a delicate swan gliding upon tranquil waters. Gazing down into her fragile dark eyes, Aegnor stood before her. They gazed at one another for a long, silent pause as the sound around them drew out. The fire illuminated his face, utterly divine and breathtaking. Her lip quivered violently as she desperately held back her tears. Joy and sorrow overcame her, washing her away. Aegnor was stoic, yet his eyes betrayed his fragile heart as he stared silently.

   "I understand if you do not wish to see me, nor speak a word to me," her fragile voice whispered between them. "Should you choose to take your leave from me, I will not hold it against you, Aegnor,"

   He stood unmoving. His stoic, unyielding gaze never shifting. Then he stood a lingering step toward her, closing the space between them. He reached and delicately clasped Andreth's hand in both of his held it between their bodies.

   "Lady," he murmured softly, his gaze fragile. "And just where do I go?"

   Her teary eyes were on their hands, and she burst into weeps. He gazed at her frailly as she released the grief within her heart before him. Tears of joy at the reunion of their hearts, overflowing.

Their shimmering eyes locked in an intimate embrace as if time itself acquiesced to their reunion. In an instant, they were spirited away to the moment when their paths first intertwined—a frigid morning in Dorthonion, where two lost souls, weary and bereft, discovered solace and solace alone in the other's gaze. Silence enveloped them, rendering words unnecessary as Aegnor bestowed upon her hand a gentle kiss.

   "Oh, Aegnor, my dearest friend," she croaked. "I do not deserve you," her smiled glowed with joy, beaming between them. Aegnor responded with a smile of his own coupled with a gentle gaze.

   "No more tears, to night is a celebration of joy. Let us speak no more of the past, and look to the future." he replied. She nodded and wiped her tears.

    Bregor approached them. His palms filled with two chalices and wearing a dazzling grin. "Aegnor!" He cried joyfully.

   He handed one cup to Aegnor and the other he placed in Andreth's hands. The sweet, delightful smell teased her senses, and she gazed into its rich, dark red contents.

   "What a great night it is to be alive!" Bregor grinned, elated. "There exists no greater a protector for my sister than you! I wish to make it official that you are her undisputed champion!"

    Andreths head sunk in her hand, her beaming blush betraying her intense embarrassment. Aegnor released a soft chuckled at her mirth.

  "I am tempted to accept such an offer," he smiled. An air of unwavering confidence seeped from Aegnor as he turned and locked eyes with Bregor. Clasping arms with him in a firm grip, "and I extend my congratulations to your wife on the coming arrival of a second precious child!"

  "Truthfully, had you not gifted your blade to us, I would not be alive this moment. I owe the very existence of this child to your sake alone."

    With a warm smile, Aegnor inclined his head, acknowledging his appreciation. He responded with a voice suffused with gentle elegance. "Your wife is a treasure. Cherish her,"

   Bregor nodded. "Though I am protective of my younger sister, tonight, I entrust her utterly to you. Drink with her and be merry; I welcome it!" His countenance radiated an approving smile of profound magnitude and sincere affection.

    Turning to Andreth before bidding them farewell, he witnessed her visage flushed with utmost embarrassment, which only served to elicit a brotherly, mischievous smile. He winked at her and left. Aegnor erupted into jovial laughter at Andreth's raw blush. Their mirth resounding with unabashed delight.

   "I have never seen your brother so elated!" Aegnor chuckled warmly.

   "It is both his dream and his duty to become a father. Having a son has certainly changed him for the better," she smiled. Aegnor's smile turned to a frown, and his eyes fell to the cup in his hand filled with wine.

   "I empathise with his strong desire. To sire a child of ones own is life's greatest fulfilment." He paused, sadness shrouded him completely as Andreth witnessed this rare moment of vulnerability in him.

   "Will you too embrace fatherhood someday, Aegnor?" She asked.

    With a melancholic smile, his eyes lifted once more to her. His jaw clenched with tension. Andreth's own smile faltered as his countenance bore a fragile vulnerability that surprise even her, as if the words he was about to speak carried the weight of a thousand worlds.

   "Above all things in this world, I long for a child of my own, that I may bestow upon my child the boundless love I keep locked away within my heart, for such a love... I would give anything to have." he murmured. A warm hand rested on his forearm as she offered him a comforting touch.

  "Aegnor, you are good and true. There are many who love you. You are deserving of all these things, but you must first believe it also." She muttered, leaning in to him. Aegnor's eyes swelled with unshed tears, and he clung to her every word. "In time, you will have all you desire. There is no need to carry this weight any longer." She smiled.

   His lips pulled into a beautiful, fragile smile as his eyes poured into her all his burdens. The tender moment shared between them was amplified when Aegnor, his gaze held in hers, raised his cup, inviting Andreth to do the same.

 "Then, let us drink," he proclaimed boldly. Grinning widely, she raised her cup also, mirroring him. "To indulgence and liberation, and a boundless night followed by the radiant dawn!"

The glimmering silver caught the flickering light of the grand fire. As the chalices met with a harmonious clink. They drank in unison. The beverage was divine and velvety as it slipped down her throat like warm honey. The sweet, succulent taste, the warm afterglow as it entered her stomach, she had never tasted such a pleasure. She was but into her second gulp when a sudden, extreme dizziness took her.

   Her head felt heavy and light at the same time as her vision blurred. As Aegnor finished the last few drops in his chalice, letting them slip down his throat, he opened his eyes, and he became immediately concerned. She swayed heavily to the side as her feet threatened to give way beneath her. Aegnor swiftly pulled her body into him as she fell, holding her upright.

   "Andreth?"

Her glazed eyes met his as she struggled to keep them open, and her look of extreme confusion troubled him greatly. He steadied her face with his hand, clasping hit firmly beneath her jaw, his eyes studying hers.

   "Andreth!?" He cried.

   The chalice slipped from her hand, causing its dark contents to spill onto the grass below, some of it spilt onto Aegnor's boots. Aegnor scooped it up and brought the now empty chalice to his nose, sniffing it. The unmistakable scent that wafted from it. In that instant, realization dawned upon him. A fleeting rage crossed Aegnor's brow, and he glared down into the cup, his grip on it tensing. In the same instant, Andreth's legs gave out from beneath her, and she collasped again. Aegnor scooped her in his strong grasp before she hit the ground, his arms enveloping her inebriated form in a protective embrace. With utmost care, he guided her away from the prying onlookers.

   "Angrod!" Aegnor roared for his brother, ("come quickly!") Angrod appeared from the crowd as Andreth watch being pulled through it, ("What has happened!?") Angrod asked quickly

  ("She has unwittingly partaken of a draught your perilous wine!") Aegnor replied, harsh elvish words rumbled from him like thunder. ("Do you have the ingredients to make Eldarvine?") He added.

   ("Yes, I shall make it without delay!) Angrod replied and hastily ran to make the elixir.

   A concoction of Angrods' own making, to swiftly counteract extreme intoxication from the potency of elvish wine. They came but afew steps from Finrods spacious tent before Andreth could walk no more and had to be carried by Aegnor inside. Finally alone, Aegnor placed her gently upon a chair and worked at keeping her alert. But she was quickly slipping into unconsciousness. Angrod reappeared, holding out a chalice of the elixir to Aegnor. He swiftly seized it from his hand and held it her mouth.

    He placed the rim between her soft, plump lips and encouraged her repeatedly to drink. Utterly confused, she began to drink the bittersweet liquid. It revitalised her, like fresh rainwater in her dry mouth. He tipped the cup higher and higher as it vanished down her throat, encouraging her to finish every sip, a gentle melancholy washed over her. She slumped and surrendered to a light slumber, falling against Aegnor. Her face buried into his neck as he cradled her. His hands slowly slipped around her head, his fingers entangled in her hair while his mellifluous words served as a soothing balm of sweet serenity. Angrod watch on,

   "I will summon Bregor!" He interjected abruptly. Turning to leave.

   "Nay!" Aegnor protested strongly. "You will only cause distress. It was an honest mistake,"

Angrod stood his ground. ("Brother, consuming copious amounts of our wine could have brought her close to the realm of death!") Angrod countered, switching to the elvish tongue, his voice laden with concern. ("Bregor must be made aware! Would you not wish it so if it were Artanis?")

   ("Recall Angrod, my firm disapproval of bringing such wine in the first place! Now look at what you have done!") A tempest of thunder shrouded Angrod's face, his teeth clenched in a vile contortion of fury.

   ("How dare you!") Angrod growled, his lip curling with tightly restrained rage. ("Do you, in your feeble mind dare to insinuate that I bear responsibility for this?")

   ("I imply to say, that Andreth may not have needed to be victimised by your affection for liquor and your incessant need to indulge in it!") Aegnor snarled.

  ("Such words from you!") He retorted. As the brothers engaged in their heated bickering, their hot voices drew the attention of Finrod, who swiftly intervened, barging through the hanging curtains of cloth.

   ("Enough of this! Do you wish for the entire assembly to hear your petty squabble!?") Finrod spoke, their was a sudden stillness that followed has he put an end to his younger brothers argument with his presence alone.  Angrod glared at Aegnor, his neck hammering with tension. He was not done with him yet.

   ("You, Aegnor, are the sole among us whose only solace is drowned in a goblet of wine!"). The sting of Angrod's cruel words lingered in the air. Aegnor, his eyes wounded, stared up at him in silence. His face still tense with anger, Angrod turned on his heels to take his leave.

    "Angrod!" Finrod called to his passing figure. Protesting on Aegnor's behalf.

   ("Do not give me that pitiful look, Finrod!") Angrod growled. ("You know of its truth!") He stormed off, the curtains of the tent billowing as he stepped out.

   Finrod looked back to Aegnor, his eyes consumed with sadness. Aegnor slowly shifted his deeply wounded gaze back to Andreth, still cradling her head gently against his neck. As Aegnor's fingertips entwined in her tresses tenderly stroking the curve of her head, lines wrinkled Finrod's worried brow. A question of deep significance weighed heavily on his mind. However, fear held him back from uttering it, dreading the answer he did not wish to know. His voice caught in his throat as he built the courage to ask.

  Just as Finrod drew breath to ask what he dreaded to know, Andreth suddenly stirred from her drowsy slumber. She recaptured Aegnor's attention immediately, and he gently pulled her off of his shoulder, seeking her gaze.

  "Andreth?" Her eyes met his, drowsy and heavy.

  "Aegnor? Where is Aegnor?" She slurred.

  "I am Aegnor, it is I..." He whispered, cupping her face. "You were given a drought of elvish wine, and you collapsed, but you are no longer under its influence," he smiled tenderly.

   "Thank you," she whispered. Their gazes lingered in a tender silence, filled with sincere affection. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly rose to her feet, helped by her loyal, endearing elf. She noticed Finrod towering frame as she stood up, his gaze solemnly fixed upon them.

   "Lord Finrod!" she gasped, a smile tinged with a light-headed embarrassment adorning her face. "Forgive me, Your brothers concern for my welfare is greater than I deserve, I am sincerely grateful for it." she smiled, rather flushed.

   Finrod, sorrowful, managed to muster a faint smile. With measured composure, he spoke slowly, "I am glad to see you are well, lady. Please, return to the festivities; I hardly think anyone has noticed your small misfortune," he reassured her.

   Slightly unsteady on her feet, she swayed past him, with Aegnor attentively following close behind. They left Finrod alone. His demeanour far more sobered than before and with only his whispers in his own head to console him.

   As the grand feast unfolded, the lords' triumphant hunt had yielded a bounty of venison, tender and succulent, which watered the palates of those eager to sample a taste. Andreth, with Aegnor never leaving her side, happily tucked into her share. Sitting crossed legged upon the grass, close to the large centre fire. Her crimson dress spread around her slender waist. She savoured the delectable morsels of venison from her portion The meat was so tender. It melted upon her tongue like warm honey. Aegnor sat close beside her, both protectively and possessively.

   He watched her eat silently as she devoured the meat like a ravenous wolf, disregarding all notions of decorum befitting a lady. Soft moans of a hunger satisfied with each bite escaped her. He watched her with an intensity that bridged upon amusement and marvel as she loudly sucked the residue from her fingers. Unaware of his eyes upon her. She grasped her chalice of a fruity beverage and slurped it greedily. As their eyes met, and she lowered her cup from her red lips, her eyes holding his.

   "What?" She asked. Her eyes and tone lacking any apology or even awareness.

   Aegnor's composer shattered at her manner. Releasing a supressed laugh. With a playful glint in his eyes, he reached for her plate, deftly securing a morsel of venison and flicked it into his mouth, his gaze intense and unbreaking. He licked his thumb and yanked it from his mouth with a loud smack. Mimicking her with a playful tease. Andreth laughed. "All too oft I would be chastised on for my lack of decorum at the evening meal," she quipped, blushing.

  He raised his cup to his mouth and muttered into its contents before drinking. "So was I!"

She looked at him, her face contorting with pleasant surprise. "You are not like other elves. Are you, Aegnor?" She smiled.

  "You are mistaken, sweet lady, it is they who are unlike I!" He grinned, his eyes welded to the fire. 

  She chuckled, biting on her lip. A pour of overwhelming confidence seeped from him. Bold and unapologetic. She blushed again, for she had found a kindred spirit who loved all of her flaws.

  The large central fire, a divine entity in its own right, waged a valiant battle against the chill of the night and the darkness of the surrounding forest. The nearby lake, bathed in the glow of starlight, shimmered just beyond the trees. Andreth and Aegnor found themselves reminiscing in a tender memory, their concerns melting away like mist before dawn.

    Their palms hovered above one another in front of the roaring fire, mirroring a beloved memory they once shared. Andreth playfully teased Aegnor, her cascading dark locks revealing a rich red sheen aflame in the mesmerizing light of the crackling flames. Having enjoyed the rekindling of a close friendship with a few rounds, their hands dropped, taking a rest.

   "I must admit, Aegnor, your desire to play this game surprised me. Such simplicity does not befit you," she jested, a glint in her eyes drew him deeper into her captivating presence. 

  "My fair lady!" Aegnor interjected playfully, "It demands sublime cunning and a deft wit!" He mirrored the words she once spoke to him. Andreth's gaze lingered upon him, her lips folding into an ironic grin as the memory of their first game together came rushing back to her, all those years ago.

   "I have replayed this moment in my mind so many times since that fateful night," she confessed. "I almost fear I shall wake up soon to discover this moment is all but a dream,"

   In unison, they sipped their cups. Her serene gaze remained upon the fire, its light dancing in her eyes.

  "Much has changed since that moment, Andreth, but my care for you has never wavered,"

  "Oh, Aegnor, you have already proven your devotion to me on a multitude of times." She whispered. "Yet, I feel as though I am still to prove mine,"

   His eyes lingered in hers, their intensity amplifying. Holding his cup in both hands, he captured another swift drink and placed it down beside him. He held his palms out to her once more, inviting another game.

   "Shall we play again? Only this time, I propose a wager," He proclaimed, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eye. Pausing, her playful gaze squinted with suspicion, she passed him a curious smile.  "And...what will the stakes be?"

   "The winner..." he paused for thought. "Will be rewarded an answer. A single answer to a single question. And they must receive a truthful answer,"

  "Oh, Aegnor..." she grinned excitedly. "I possess a multitude of questions for you!"

   Seeing her rising to the challenged, Aegnor released a soft laugh, "Then, expend your efforts to win against me, and I will seek to satisfy your curiosity!"

   Andreth steadied her palms above his, signalling the commencement of their game. Time seemed to hold its breath as they engaged in their pursuit. A fleeting moment of hesitation seized her, and her nerves momentarily faltered. In that instant, Aegnor's adept fingers deftly captured hers. Andreth swiftly withdrew her hands from his grasp, holding her one hand nervously over her mouth. She cast a wide eyes glance at Aegnor, nervous with anticipation. She grabbed her fruity drink and quickly swigged it. Slowly, she relented, her voice dripping with palpable tension.

   "What is it that you wish to know?" She asked, dreading the question that would follow.

He started slow, his voice low and soft, he began. "Your people celebrate new life from the day of birth while neglecting the act of the begetting itself, unlike the Eldar. You choose to commemorate the toils of exertion over the shared throws of ecstasy that bring forth its very creation. Why does such a disparity exist?"

Shock gripped her. His solid gaze sent shivers down her spine. His beauty enchanted her, and his boldness trampled her.

  "I...I do not know," she stuttered quietly. "I suppose the begetting of our children is a draw of mere chance. It is impossible to know when the moment of life is created. For us, we have only the knowledge of the numerous times of where the act itself has taken place..." she stopped her trail of thought, looking at him. His unwavering gaze, brimming with intensity, stole her breath. Immediately, she simmered into a blush. 

  "Let's continue, this time, the victory will be mine!" She added quickly, holding her hands out, her palms now facing up. His fingers suspended above hers, and the second round continued. Her breath trembled loudly. Her heart drummed inside her chest. Their fingertips barely grazing. Her palms grew sweaty, and her fingers trembled terribly, but Aegnor's was as still as the night air. His gaze intensified as it fixed upon her, as she tried to maintain her focus, the sheer vulnerability that seeped from her in that moment capturing him completely. 

    Suddenly, Aegnor felt her firm touch entwining with his fingers, ripping him from his wonder. His eyes darted downwards, drawn to the sight of their fingers, now intertwined more tightly than before. He found himself faced with a wide, flushed, victorious grin, a smile that cast a shadow over him. In one graceful swoop, he raised his chalice of wine, hovering it over his mouth, awaiting her question.

    Aegnor's senses heightened as he observed her subtle lip nibbling, the charged atmosphere between them crackling with undeniable tension. His curiosity grew, entangled with a nervous anticipation, awaiting the question that hung on the precipice between them.

   "Had you ever..." she stopped, panic and passion warring within her. The question sat at the tip of her tongue, eager to break free. "Surrendered your body to the delights of sensual hands?" She witnessed his chalice slide from his mouth, his eyes narrowed. Her glistening eyes, like two pools of the blackest water, fixed upon him, a boldness taking over. "The soft kiss of a maiden's lips, entangled in yours," she murmured. "The soft touch of sensual hands...stripping you of all your senses, leaving you breathless beyond all measure." she whispered.

    His chalice lowered from his parted lips. His head leaned slightly to one side. He blinked. A sudden realization of herself took hold, and she withdrew once more, shyness reclaiming once again. Her cheeks turned crimson red. After a moment of silence, she could scarce stand,  Aegnor leaned into her. 

  "That was two different questions you asked me," he whispered, his voice ghosting between them. Her large, nervous eyes met his. The smirk on his face faded, replaced by an intense smoulder. His eyes fell upon his cup of elvish wine as he slowly moved it around inside. Her heart fluttered as she patiently waited. 

  "Yes," the soft word, barely a mutter, flowed from his lips, his voice hushed like the whispers of a dreaming ghost. Finally, his eyes lifted to meet hers, and a spark erupted between them. He leaned in closer, his eyes burning with hot flame and whispered. "And yes." 

  Her senses electrified, and her breath trembled. She blushed heavily, the red in her cheeks palpable. She swiftly extended her hands once again for another round, her eyes glittering wonder and excitement. A sheepish chuckle ghosted from his nostrils. He smoothed his lips with his finger, his mischievous grin widening. He lifted his cup and indulged in a long, deliberate sip. His smooth hand, adorned with an exquisite silver band around his thumb, lifted as the cup gradually ascended higher.

  Each gulp of the intoxicating elvish wine dulled his senses. As his head tilted all the way back, he greedily claimed the remainder of its contents. The display of his full unguardedness dazzled her as she drank in the mesmerizing sight. The taut, delicate skin beneath his jaw and throat glittered in the soft embers of firelight. Stealing her breath away as Aegnor surrendered shamelessly to the numbing, sensuous effects of intoxication.

  After finishing the last velvety drop, gracefully, he set the now empty chalice down beside him. Extending his palms, he made his move with an irresistible blend of elegance and desire. The lingering residue of wine delicately clung to his moist lips, tempting him with its flavour, and he licked it away.

  "You challenged me with two questions, and so I shall respond in kind," he declared confidently, his words infused with a playful sensuality.

   "Only if you claim the victory over me, silly elf," she taunted.

    As the final round commenced, an air of determination enveloped them both, their eyes locked in a gaze that transcended mere competition. Andreth's gaze rose, meeting Aegnor's penetrating stare, and within their depths, she was captivated by a kaleidoscope of colours. The roaring fire cast its golden light, casting a soft, flickering dance of shadows upon his visage. Spellbound by his extraordinary beauty, she felt a surge of anticipation, knowing that there were untold secrets concealed within the recesses of his being.

  Lost in the depths of their silent exchange, Andreth's attention was drawn to the sensation of warmth enveloping her hand. Aegnor's fingers delicately intertwined with hers, sending a shiver through her entire being. His fingertips danced along the folds of her fingers, a tender caress, and she witnessed the slow intertwining of their fingers, and his hand clasped hers in a gentle squeeze, melding their palms together. 

   All the sences of the environment around them came to a deafening silence. Their silent gaze speaking volumes that their lips dared not utter. Their breaths slowed, synchronizing in a rhythm of shared desire, their hearts pounding within them. Yet, a sudden self-awareness broke through their enchantment, and Andreth, overwhelmed with emotion, withdrew from him once more, jerking her hand away, hiding her face from him, the connection severed Her sudden withdrawal confused him. He stared silently as he witnessed a tear fall from her cheek.

  "Andreth," he whispered tenderly. Slowly, she met his eyes.

  "You have won, Aegnor," she smiled sadly, tears staining her face. "What are your final two questions?"

  Gazing deeply into her eyes, absorbing every detail of her face, Aegnor paused for a lingering moment, then slowly, raising his hand, he caressed the contours of her face in a light, flirtatious gesture of adoration.

    "Are you certain you wish me to ask?" he asked, his voice a soft murmur. With a quivering gasp, she nodded slowly, her eyes filled with nervous anticipation. Giving her a moment to collect herself, Aegnor finally whispered, "My first question, Andreth, is akin to yours,"

    "My lips have not been touched by a man." She answered quietly. "Say for the one whose beautiful mouth beckons me, whose lips I desire to kiss more than anything." She paused, her heart racing. "Unto him alone I surrender myself, his willing possession," her breath caught in her throat as her trembling lips muttered. "And he sits before me now,"

    A silence unfolded between them as the roar of the flame blew. He took her hand and pulled it close to his chest. He looked behind his shoulder to an area that led out of the camp and into the dark, silent surrounding trees. He turned back, rebellious locks of glistening gold bangs streaked over his eyes, glinting with anticipation. His upper lip drawing into a barely contained, anticipating smile. Understanding his request, Andreth observed the darkness and grew tense. Aegnor, sensing her hesitation, reassured her fears. "Fear not the cloak of darkness Andreth, you are with me!" he murmured, "have I not proven to you by now that I am more than capable of protecting you?" 

   She released a deep, trembling sigh. "I place my complete trust in you, Aegnor," she trembled with anticipation, and she succumbed to their shared desire. "Lead the way,"

   Aegnor led them away from the encampment, the night's chill enveloping them instantly. Andreth instinctively pulled her arms into her body, seeking warmth. In the pure darkness, illuminated only by the ethereal glow of pale starlight, Aegnor, his hand in hers, guided them through the thick forest. He pulled her deeper into the woods, his other hand resting on the sward at his hip, ready to defend his lady from any sudden movement. Finally, they came to the shore of the lake. The water's surface glistened with twinkling starlight, captivating their gazes.

  Unable to resist the shimmering lake's allure, Andreth pulled from Aegnor's gentle grasp and extended her hand, dipping it into the celestial waters. The icy touch jolted through her fingertips, the ripples cascading over reflected stars—a mesmerizing dance of light. As she knelt, her black hair veiled starlight gleaming on the reflective surfaces, seeming to hold a star entwined in her glorious locks.  

   Beholding the sight, Aegnor's breath left his body entirely. More beautiful, she seemed to him than any elven princess his eyes ever witnessed. Andreth slowly rose, gracing Aegnor with a serene smile revealing the intense longing in his soul to merge with hers—a sensation blending profound agony and exquisite bliss unlike anything before.

  "What is your second question, Aegnor?" Her siren-like voice called directly to him, bewitching in its charm. His silence in beholding her was telling, for in that moment, he was utterly bereft of words and of thought.

   A sudden boldness captured her steps as Andreth closed the intimate space between them. Her body melded with his. His fingers, tender and possessive, found the slender column of her neck, eliciting a sharp gasp from her, setting his intoxicated sences ablaze as their noses nuzzled. Swallowing hard, his reserve wavering, he whispered his final question 

  "For my heart alone, do thou yield to me thine life and thine love, for all and eternal?"

   Andreth gasped, a burning whisper that hung between their mouths, ready for the consumption of their passion.

  "Yes," she breathed. 

   Aegnor inclined his head forward, and his lips enveloped hers. She gasped at their velvety touch. Intoxicated in an overwhelming tide of sensations, they lost themselves in the labyrinth of a breathless kiss. Andreth was transported. From his soft kiss, the taste of succulent, sweet wine lingered, intoxicating her senses.

    His feä rising to heights pulled Andreth's with it. She felt his fingers tighten ever so slightly around her slender neck. They broke for only a moment, each overcame by their emotions as they danced on the edge of restraint. Their ragged breathing mingled in the scant space between hovering, parted mouths. Driven on by his feä, from deep within him, a building wave intensified, giving rise to a tension that overwhelmed him completely, suddenly released.

   With a deep, hungry sigh, he recaptured her willing mouth. Cresting waves of intense pleasure, sensations never known to him before, crash through him, taking with them in their currents, his every sense and thought. His bold, velvety tongue delved deep within her like warm honey, tasting her fully. He surrendered to her the very depths of his heart. Andreth could scarcely stifle a moan of intense pleasure as he tasted her fully. The passion with which he kissed her, unmatched. She released to him her love that she had withheld for so long.

    Finally, the throws of breathless passion simmered to a calm flow. Aegnor slowly regained himself. He broke from her, savouring the taste. Breathless from the ethereal experience. Placing his forehead against hers, Aegnor slipped into a waking dream. A broad, flushed smile stretched across Andreth's lips as her dreamy eyes fluttered open. With slow, soft breaths, Aegnor caressed her face with gentle tenderness, speaking words that were not his own. His feä pledge of true love in his native tongue. 

   ("Beloved! I have called thee, and thou hast answered. I was nothing before, and I shall be nothing without! To thee and thine only, I surrender") He whispered. 

    Moved to tears by the power of his feä, she uttered her vow of recognition. "My lord!" she uttered, "My love, I willingly accept," 

    She nestled delicately into his chest as he cradled her in his arms, their souls entwined in the tapestries of newfound love. Aegnor revelled in this ethereal elation, determined to protect their bond with unwavering resolve. Finrod's words of encouragement resonated like a resounding bell in his mind, fuelling his determination to embrace this love within his heart. From that moment on, he would destroy anything that threatened to tear them asunder. He would fight for her. He would die for her, and no force was going to take her away from him. 

    Overwhelmed with love, they embraced and kissed, this time without reserve. Their joyous laughter echoing through the encompassing darkness of the trees. A solitary figure stood cloaked in shadow, a witness to their union. Soon, they departed, returning to the security and the warmth of the camp. Blissfully unaware of his presence.

    Finrod, his face drained of colour, his eyes brimming with tears of profound sadness watched in anguish. The torment of despair bore down upon him, and he pressed his forehead against a nearby tree. Tears streamed down his cheeks, mingling with his deep, sorrowful sobs. The distant rumble of thunder bellowed from the sky. An omen that rattled the heavens. Foreshadowing the doom that would befall such a love. Aegnor's fate seemed sealed, and Finrod shouldered the burden of blame entirely. He had failed his beloved brother, ensnared him in a trap from which there would be no escape.

   "How had I been so foolish!?  How had I not foreseen this!?" His mind tormented him.

    Thanks to Aegnor's gift of stealth, silently and effortlessly, they slipped back into the bustling encampment, their return unnoticed amidst the enchanting revelry of the dance. Suddenly, a mellifluous voice resonated through the air, cutting through the jubilant melodies.

    "Sister!" Bregor's deep, velvety tones called out, carrying a sense of urgency. He hastened towards them, his steps propelled by a mixture of concern and eagerness. "Andreth! I have been tirelessly searching for you. Were you in the company of Lord Aegnor all this while?"

   A fleeting exchange of glances between Aegnor and Andreth ignited a delicate blush upon their cheeks, and their laughter intertwined, echoing in harmonious unison. "What is it that you seek, dear Bregor?" Andreth jested, her mirth dancing upon her lips.

   "A dance!" Bregor exclaimed with radiant affection, his eyes brimming with warmth. "Variel is indisposed, and we are all aware of Beryl's two left feet and lack of grace!"

    Nodding appreciatively, she gracefully departed from his side, seamlessly merging into the sea of bodies swaying in a symphony of elegance. Bregor lingered behind.

   "Aegnor," Bregor spoke. "I am not ignorant of the depth of affection you carry for my sister, and it extends beyond mere companionship. You are utterly enamoured with her." Aegnor, ever composed and resolute, met Bregor's gaze with unwavering sincerity, his eyes unblinking and steadfast. In that unspoken moment, a subtle nod affirmed the truth of Bregor's words, solidifying the unspoken bond between them.

   "I confess, my love for her transcends beyond the boundaries of Arda," Aegnor admitted softly, his words laced with tenderness. A gracious smile graced Bregor's countenance.

    "I have long perceived its depth," Bregor murmured, his smile suffused with affectionate understanding. "Among all men, none could rival you as a noble match for my cherished sister. Aegnor, rest assured that you possess my wholehearted approval, and my eternal blessing," As he spoke, Bregor's hand found its place upon Aegnor's solid shoulder, a firm grip that conveyed both brotherly acceptance and trust.

    Aegnor responded with a subtle, gracious nod. He watched as Bregor departed, making his way towards Andreth, who awaited him at a modest distance. Aegnor's gaze remained serene as he beheld the ethereal sight of his beloved, gracefully moving in tandem with her brother, her dance embodying the effortless elegance of a dove suspended in mid-flight

    As he stood there, immersed in her beauty, a familiar presence approached beside him. Aegnor could discern the identity without needing to meet the figure's gaze. An offering was extended—a goblet brimming with wine—yet Aegnor chose to disregard it. His gaze was unbreaking from the flurry of dancers. A veil of shame and remorse shadowed the countenance of the offering, revealing the depths of his regret.

  "Please forgive me, Aegnor," he begged. Aegnor's gaze finally met his, revealing eyes marred by the scars of wounded pride and simmering anger. "I spoke out of line and in spite of you, and in my impassioned anger, I hurt you dearly. I know of the wounds you nurse within, and never again shall I uproot the pain you bury deep with such cruel words,"

    Angrod's plea for forgiveness broke Aegnor's hardened yet fragile gaze. The ire in Aegnor's eyes yielded to a serene lucidity, a tranquil understanding. A gentle smile graced his lips, and a single fragile tear cascaded down his cheek.

    In that moment, a tender gesture unfolded between the two brothers. Angrod extended a soothing touch, his hand gliding tenderly over Aegnor's head, offering solace and reassurance. Aegnor, his heart buoyed by the warmth of that affectionate gesture, reciprocated with a playful nudge, gently deflecting his brother's hand. Smiling with playful embarrassment.

    "When the war has abated, there lies a revelation I long to share with you," Aegnor declared, his voice carrying an air of anticipation.

    "Aegnor, could it have finally come to be? Has an elusive enchantress finally ensnared your heart!?" Angrod exclaimed, his eyes alight with a contagious fervour. Bestowing upon Angrod a lingering, teasing smile, Aegnor withdrew from him, leaving his question unanswered, plunging Angrod into a state of delightful suspense. Eagerly, Angrod pursued his brother, his unspoken demand for an answer palpable in the air.