With my stories, you have to think a little deeper. O_o

THIS IS IMPORTANT

Earth: Fanteore
Air: Winzar
Fire/Ice: Flaydrix
Water: Aquisan
Light: Delana
Storm: Darunis
Healing: Lifana
Holy: Blymur
Electricity: Shaxen
Ice: Frezar
Mind: Gurashi
Fire: Raifal

        "Where has she fled!" The dark lord roared, throwing open the heavy chamber door.
        The Lady Arwen staggered to her feet, exhausted by her previous battle, and quaked at the sight of the Dark Lord.
        "Where is the general!" The elf roared again, his blue eyes flaming like candlelight.
        Nervously, she braced herself, her soft courage breaking at the sight of the irate Black Lord.
        "The Lady has not come back here." She stated, surprised at the firmness of her voice. Legolas Greenleaf was not impressed. He made as if to lunge for her, but of a sudden, a long fingered hand gripped his leader in an iron clutch.
        Legolas spun, wrenching himself free, and glared at the one who dared lay a hand upon him. His anger cooled when he looked up into the confused, angry face of Aragorn.
        "Legolas! What are you about?!"
        The other man blinked, as if shaking himself from a trance.
        "I-I know not..." He murmured, looking from his best friend, to the small woman behind him.
        "No...I know not..." Legolas shook his golden-haired head, shrugging his tan tunic back into place.
        He frowned at Aragorn, who continued to watch him warily, anxious at the fear evident in the Lady Arwen's face.
        The Dark Lord turned to the girl, bowing slightly.
        "Forgive me, Milady. I know not what just befell me. I fear mayhap I am ill..." He said gruffly, his anger faded.
        "I-If you see the general, tell her we have much to...Discuss."
        He strode from the room.
        Aragorn shut the portal behind him, quickly striding to the gown clad girl who had sank to the edge of an ivory settee.
        He was about to comfort her. Embrace her. When he realized what he was doing. He stood in front of her, watching her, When she looked up, craning her neck to his tall height.
        For a moment, they both stared.
        To her, with his handsome face at ease, and his long black hair loose around his shoulders, he was once again the embodiment of love, passion and care from her youth.
        To him, with her raised amber eyes, and her beautiful faced filled with confused longing and bewildered pain, she was once again the sweet love of his younger days.
        "Arwen, I-"
        He stopped, remembering the conversation with General Lyana on the balcony hours earlier.
        Abruptly, he steeled himself. Cursing his lack of courage.
        "Yes, Milord?" She whispered sadly, and Aragorn's heart broke. Four years of pent up pain and longing tore his soul apart like ashes in the wind, brushing powdered grey remnants of love across his heart.
        That term was like a slanderous curse, wrenching his shredded heart from the immersing pitch of bitterness.
        Swearing, he threw himself across the room, spacing them apart. He ran a lean fingered hand through his hair
        "Damn you!" He growled. "Damn you!"
        Arwen shrank back into the couch, fearful of his vehemence.
        "I was getting along fine without you! You were fading from my life, my heart! And then Legolas decides to kidnap the women from Tarquin Castle, and I 'knew' you would be among them!"
        Aragorn stopped, breathing deeply and calming himself. When the tall knight spoke again, it was with a cold resilience that frightened Arwen.
        "But you have returned. And your betrayal of our love is as deep as mine."
        Shakily, Arwen drew her shattered self up from the couch, straightening her tiny frame courageously.
        " 'My' betrayal of 'our' love?" She whispered dangerously, and raised a pale hand to her temple. She turned to the man, her eyes sparking with tears.
        "I thought you dead! In all the years of your disappearance, did you once seek me out?"
        Aragorn's face saddened, his voice sorrowful. "I only sought to keep you safe!" He stepped to her, his large hand closing around her angry palm.
        "Legolas is a hard man to trust, and the men we work with are not always loyal!" Aragorn dropped his dark gaze from her own, studying her tiny slippered feet. "If they found the...Weakness...I have for you, do you think they would not use it against me? I am of the Dark Kingdom now! I cannot love you!"
        Arwen watched him tearfully, her hand reaching to touch his cheek.
        "But you do..."
        He met her gaze squarely, unflinching. "Aye. I do. I always have." He leaned into her palm, aching for the touch he had lost so long ago, and wept for over the long, lonely years.
        "I have loved you since the first time I saw you, trying to string that bow all alone..."
        The Lady smiled through her tears, longing to reach the heart of the boy she knew once again.
        "Aye...That I remember. Your comrades mocked me, but you only smiled, and taught me how. And you continued to help me...Training me in the skills of an archer until even you could not beat me."
        The Dark Knight nodded seriously, remembering the feel of her lithe young body in the awkward arms of his youth. The joy she had drowned his soul in. The pain her betrayal had wrought...
        "Even now I hide behind the loss of you. When I caught word of your impending nuptials...I was glad we were going to capture you..."
        With sudden ferocity, he clamped his fingers round her waist, pulling her body against his hard armor, bruising her.
        "I would have killed him!" He hissed, his eyes burning. "I would have murdered him in cold blood had he but lay a finger upon your body!"
        Lady Arwen was unafraid, behind the fierce emotions lay his gentle soul, and he would not hurt her.
        "Lord Boromir is not at fault, Aragorn. I consented to his suit..."
        Aragorn shook her gently, his long black hair falling over his shoulder. "Why?" He mouthed, and Arwen looked away, her golden eyes saddened.
        "I grieved for you. I grieved for you until the moment you strode into the battle tent. Then I grieved for you of different reasons..."
        The missing Lord of the Aquisan Kingdom cringed, releasing his fierce grip on her, and backing away.
        "She has wept the days through, bemoaning the loss of her young lover, and the gain of the cold reflection" He quoted bitterly, and Arwen turned wide- eyed to him.
        "Aye! I have! For you are not the man I loved!" She sank to the floor, overwhelmed by pain.
        "Only his cold, empty armor..."
        The man closed his eyes, his dark-haired head lowered as they stood in silence.
        "We have changed..." He began softy.
        "Our love has not." She stated firmly, and Aragorn raised his head, hope flaring in his dark eyes.
        "Hasn't it? you say yourself I am now cold, and you have grown into a beautiful women...Not the naïve lass I remember..."
        Arwen crossed the oriental carpet, with every slippered step, closing the aching distance between their hearts.
        "You are the boy I loved...And the man I love now. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me."
        Aragorn leaned his forehead against hers, his black hair sliding across her face.
        "I would have you as the girl or the women, for I love you so..."
        They kissed for the first time in four years, and the heavens exploded.

        "Where is the maiden, Lyana Faren!" Lord Greenleaf railed for what seemed like the hundredth time, to any passing guard, lord or lady.
        Finally, his irate search prevailed.
        The young lady was in the empty library, curled upon a window seat in her battle gear, her slender sword lying limply on the floor.
        At his striding approach, she turned away from the window, resigned to her fate.
        "I would not for the world let you touch me again, Milord. " She murmured, and Legolas's ire grew.
        "You have no choice, elf! For you are mine now!"
        Unfolding her sleek body from the window seat, she stood defiantly before him. Chin jutting and eyes fearful but blazing.
        "I know not of what you speak, Milord."
        Legolas scowled, yanking her forward in a quick, agile movement.
        "Do you not?" He roughly ran a hand through her copper hair, overwhelmed by the weakening desire to hold her close, and thrusting it away with a vengeance.
        "You submitted to me, elf. You have given me your maidenhead, and by Flaydrix law you are mine to do as I please."
        Ripping herself from his embrace, Lady Lyana snapped.
        "I am not of the Flaydrix Kingdom! I am a lady of Winzar!"
        Legolas grabbed her again, the need to bind her to him pulsating in his veins like liquid pain.
        There was something comforting about her presence. Something that broke through some of the shadows within him, setting free his soul.
        "Flaydrix spies report your father will submit to me, and shall become part of the Flaydrix Kingdom."
        Lyana's eyes widened in horror, and Legolas felt guilt emerge from the breach in his blackness.
        'Vicious angel...' He thought savagely at the look in her eyes, replacing the horror.
        "Lord Garreck will not submit!"
        Legolas jerked her to him, his mouth an inch from her own.
        "Then he is as good as dead!" He bit out, instantly regretting it.
        Her olive eyes widened, and she punched at his chest, trying to break free. Legolas tried to summon some of his ice magic, to bind her, but his soul would not allow it. Instead, he crushed his mouth to hers, feeling some of her anger melt into painful desire.
        Their tongues dueled, even as he felt tears falling down her soft cheeks like rose petals. She let out a keening moan, and he broke away, letting her sob into his chest.
        Overcome by an odd feeling of torture and tenderness, he patted her hair, burying his face in the amber mass.
        "Ssshhh" He soothed, staring out the window as she struggled to escape his arms. It hurt to know she would not hold him as he held her.
        "I will not kill them, elf. I will not need to. Your father is a wise man. He knows the futility of war, and the good I will bring as lord..."
        Her sobbing subsided, and she weakly forced his arms off her, relenting, he let them fall to his sides.
        "You are the Lord of Darkness! You do not know the meaning of good."
        Pain flickered through him, and he thrust it away, once again angry.
        "It is not so, elf. There are two sides to every war. The good, and the bad. It had fallen on me to portray the villain. If I was the Lord of Sin, as they call me, why have I not killed the womenfolk whence they slept? Or burned and pillaged the villages my army has captured?"
        Lyana had no answers, and bowed her head. It was true, she realized. Legolas had shown her nothing but kindness, fairness...And pain.
        "If you are so good, Milord." She stated quietly. "Then why have you lain with me. You knew I was a virgin."
        Legolas drew her tired body to him, staring into her eyes.
        "I have never before let a women lead me. You have been the only girl I have bedded as a virgin, and I will have no other."
        Lyana's emerald eyes grew wary at the odd tone in his usually cold voice.
        "What say you now?" She asked nervously, and Legolas's blue eyes suddenly flared with light, startling her.
        "You shall be mine. Heart, body and soul." He grinned devilishly, "You shall marry me."
        Lyana gasped, pushing away.
        "Nay! I cannot!"
        The Warlords eyes narrowed dangerously, their orbs sparking.
        "Why? Is there some young swain who yet hold's your heart in Winzar?"
        The auburn tressed girl softly shook her head. "Nay, sir. But there could be!"
        His eyebrow rose sardonically, mocking her with a grin. "Could be?"
        "Aye! I will not marry you because you want my body this moment! I would marry for love!"
        Legolas laughed to throw off his sudden flash of longing.
        "Love? I have never experienced the meaning...And neither have you."
        Even as he said the words, a part of him rebuked it, screaming to him to realize the odd stirrings the brave Light general rose in him, for what they were.
        Her eyes bespoke pain, and he frowned, turning from her.
        "You cannot deny the attraction between us."
        "We have only just met!" Lyana flared, and Legolas grinned coldly.
        "It didn't take so long to find you in my bed, milady."
        When Lyana made to whirl, to flee his disdainful presence, Legolas's arm snapped out, painfully thrusting her against him.
        "Do not try to run from me again, betrothed." He drew out the term sarcastically, and the girl could not believe his cruelty. Where was the tender lover? The bewildered kisser?
        Here stood the commander of armies, slaughterer of men.
        Here stood her enemy.
        "I will not marry you!" She spat, her voice hateful, and Legolas winced outright.
        Pushing away his abrupt feelings of loss, knowing they were his own fault, Legolas jerked her mouth to his own, his eyes burning.
        "You have no choice, General."
        His drawl was ended by his lips meeting her own. But Lyana had noticed the odd glints of pain and hurt in those frightening eyes, and she saw that Lord Greenleaf was not as iron as he appeared.

4 Days Later

        General Frodo Baggins stared pensively at the stone walls, watching the sun rays filter through the tapestries covering the water, and worrying about the prisoners of Lord Greenleaf.
        "Do you think he has harmed them?" Murmured Sam Gamgee, standind near his bed. Glancing down up to his worried brown eyes, Frodo sighed.
        "Nay. Legolas Greenleaf is a man of his black word. He said he would not harm them, and he shan't"
        "Lady Arwen was among them..."
        "As was Lady Lyana."
        Frodo threw off his bedcovers and attempted to organize his unruly brown hair, then moved to comfort his friend, who was staring dully out the window.
        "They will be well. Lady Lyana is my finest fighter."
        Sam looked up at him, wrapping his arms around his midriff as if in fear.
        "What of our traitorous friend?" he whispered, tears springing into his gaze. Frodo had no words of comfort for him at that. Lord Elrond had betrayed the Light Kingdom, taking the Raifal fire armies with them.
        "Lord Elrond's loyalties have shown where they truly lie, dear friend. I cannot give you solace."
        Understandingly, Sam nodded his head
        "You need say no more, Lord Frodo. I find no fault in you for being angry. Elrond has betrayed me also..."
        Frodo nodded, smiling sadly.
        "I must assemble my council. Kindly send for the Gurashi Priest, for he needs to be in attendance."
        Sam nodded, frowning.
        "Frodo. You and I know his loyalties lie with neither Light nor Dark...Why send for him?"
        The general pulled on his boots and strapped on his sword.
        "I would have him use his powers to assure me of the safety of the prisoners."
        Understanding dawned on Sam's face, and he bid him farewell, going to seek aid with the messenger.
        Frodo sent his own messenger to gather his remaining leader, before adjourning to the briefing room.
        Mayhap all was not lost.
        "There is no chance in hell!" Roared Lord Boromir, also Commander of a small regiment of Light soldiers.
        Frodo rubbed his temples, exasperated with his elder friend's outrageous lack of faith.
        "There is always a chance." He stated calmly, just as a knock sounded at the portal.
        "Come in." He sighed, closing his bright blue eyes.
        "I sense you are feeling frustrated." Came the gravelly almost whisper of Gandalf.
        "Bah! You needn't have used your damn psychic powers to tell me that!" He growled, as the wisened man entered.
        Priest Gandalf calmly sat down, watching the angry leaders.
        Lord Boromir sat fingering his icy blade, his matching eyes mutinous. And General Frodo, leader of Light, sat, head bowed, in his chair.
        "What have you summoned me for, Milord's?"
        Frodo looked up, the blatant plea in his eyes almost painful to bear.
        "The Black Lord has kidnapped some of the womenfolk who were visiting Tarquin on the day's before the Battle of Blood. I need you to tell me if they are alive."
        Gandalf raised his slate eyes to Frodo. "You know the extent of my powers. I could tell you their exact thoughts even from this great a distance, but I will not meddle with Legolas Greenleaf. This is not my war."
        Frodo nodded, adding a thought. "Just tell me if they are well, and what they do."
        Nodding, The priest closed his wise eyes, concentrating
        Images flashed through his mind, glimpses of well-clad women, and fierce embraces. Tears and fears and Ivory clad generals...
        Abruptly, blackness surged through his mind, and he sensed the turmoil in the heart of a Black Lord.
        Opening his intent gaze, he frowned at Frodo and his brother.
        "The blackness is welcoming the light." He murmured, before totally rising from his vision.
        Wearily, The Lords watched him, each intent on their duties to another.
        "How is the Lady Arwen?" Queried Boromir, leaning forward, and Frodo interuppted him.
        "Is General Lyana living?"
        Priest Gandalf frowned, and they backed away. He remained silent, thinking how best to tell them.
        "There is much to say, as the lost and losing draw to a close."
        Frodo snapped, his blue eyes angry.
        "What say you? Cease your riddles! I have not the time!"
        The priest sighed, looking at the man straight in the eyes.
        "The 'prisoners' are alive and well."
        Frodo growled ominously. "What say you with such sarcasm? "
        "They are living well, decked in the finest silks and laces. They want for nothing." He cast a pitying eye to Boromir, his voice softened.
        "It would seem the Lady Arwen has been reunited with her love, milord..." Boromir frowned, confused.
        "You don't mean...?" He shook his head. "Lord Aragorn has been dead four years past."
        Gandalf sighed "Nay. He and the Lady are together as surely as you are here with I."
        Boromir slammed a fist into the table, his rage supreme. "Damn that Elrond! He led the Lord Aragorn into that trap, and now we find death has not gripped him in its iron fangs! Instead, venomous spite has fallen upon us 'as surely as you are here with I' !" He snarled, but the priest merely turned to Frodo.
        "I fear I give you worse news. Lord Frodo, for the General is in far more dire straits then Lady Arwen and the other women."
        Frodo stood, clenching his fists.
        "What speak you of! I would know what has befallen my general!"
        Gandalf sighed again gustily, confusion evident on his usually impassive face. "I understand not, but I fear the worst, and hope the best. Lady Lyana has been wed."
        Frodo sat back down, shocked.
        "W-what...To whom?"
        Gandalf looked him dead in the eye. Fog meeting the sky.
        "To darkness."
        Frodo's hand shot across the table, so great was his fury, and hefted the unfazed man from his seat.
        "To whom, damn you!"
        "To Lord Legolas Greenleaf, commander of the dark Army, and Lord of the Flaydrix Kingdom."
        Frodo was so stunned, he dazedly leaned back into his seat, speechless.
        Boromir though, drew himself up,
        "Then all 'is' lost, for with the Winzar, Fanteore and Aquisan kingdoms behind Flaydrix, all that is left is Delana, Frezar and Lifana. And now with Elrond backing Flaydrix, we know not whether Lady Eowyn's Lifana Kingdom lies with us or not. And even if it does, they do not fight!"
        The hobbit fell back with an angry groan, covering his face with his hands.
        The fellow Lord sighed, standing. "Aye, Legolas has the Kingdoms of Flaydrix, with is the combination of ice and fire. Legolas also has Lady Arwen, therefore Fanteore, or the Plant Kingdom. With Lyana as his bride, Winzar, the Air kingdom. If Lord Aragorn is living, then the Aquisan, or Water kingdom, is with him. With the allies of Lord Elrond, he has the Raifal, or Fire kingdom with him, as well as Sergeant Gimli, the Storm kingdom.
        Peregin Took is his allie, so the Shaxen or Lightening Kingdom, is with him"
        Sighing again, he sunk into his chair.
        "You are right friend, we have no chance in hell. But we shall die trying..."