((Note: Despite the title, it's not all romance, and it's not insta-romance. Though it hasn't been posted, Hal and Luin have known each other for a few years already. This thread contains some mild violence and adult situations, rated PG-13.))

Something was haunting the woods around the village sanctuary. The mixed races that called Anarven home had suffered some losses in raids made in darkness. They had drawn closer together behind the walls of their stockade, and Prince Arandir, their chosen leader, had sent scouting parties out beyond those wooden walls to seek out answers to the questions that plagued them. Who was attacking them' What was out there" Could they be stopped"

They were small scouting parties, generally no more than two or three in a group, so that they could move through the woods without much risk of attracting attention. One party in particular was made up of only two elves - one a refugee from Ilyethlin, who had once been a royal guard, and the other from Rathloren, also a refugee, who had been one of the founders of Anarven. Though the pair were originally from very different worlds, they enjoyed each other's company and worked well together, hence they were often paired up for missions such as this.

The shorter of the two, a redheaded female dressed in woodland green, paused in her tracks, her soft boots silent in the undergrowth. Sharp green eyes had spotted something nearby ....a smear of blackish blood on a broken shrub. She reached out, touching the smear with one gloved finger, raising that finger to her face to sniff and taste.

"They came this way, whatever they are," she breathed, her voice almost lost on the breeze.

The taller of the pair, a yellow-haired male, also dressed in brown and green in order to blend in with the woods, paused beside her to inspect what she'd found.

"Blood," the elf murmured. "But it does not smell familiar to me. Do you recognize it?"

She sniffed again thoughtfully. Only just an adult in the eyes of their kind, nonetheless Luinithlas had earned her reputation over the years since she had helped to found Anarven.

"It's beast," she murmured back to her companion. "But not orc or goblin, nor even dire. Perhaps it is the source of the snarling in the night."

"Whatever it is, it's been injured," the taller and elder of the two pointed out, though that much was obvious. "And it's fresh blood. They can't have gone far," he added, presuming there was more than one. While Haldreithen was the elder of the two and a seasoned guard, his companion had been in Rhy'Din longer.

"If it is beast, they will have sharper senses," Luinithlas said quietly. "We should approach from downwind, at the very least. A wide circle?"

He nodded at her suggestion. "Perhaps mixed blood," Hal, as he was known to friends, remarked. He had heard of such creatures. Though he was not sure what exactly they were tracking, there was no question that they were a threat.

"Together or split?" Luinithlas, or Luin as friends knew her, was not so cocky that she would take the lead in everything. She respected Hal's superior experience, especially in situations like this.

He didn't like the idea of splitting up, but he thought it might be best if they came at them from different directions.

"Split, but don't engage. We don't know how many of them there are, and we don't want to attract attention," he warned her.

She nodded, and couldn't resist flashing him an impishly confident smile as she stepped back and disappeared into the greenery around them. Not a sound gave away her position, and only the barest suggestion of movement showed which way she had gone. She knew Rhy'Din's forests like she knew her own heart.

He rolled his eyes and sighed at her cockiness, hoping it wouldn't get her into trouble. She was young, but not so much younger than him. He watched as she disappeared into the woods before moving in the opposite direction, careful to stay downwind of whatever they were tracking, as silent as the wind.

It wasn't far before the sound of pained snarling and guttural words made themselves known. The language was unfamiliar, issuing from mouths not made to form words in the first place - four distinct voices, though it was doubtful the entire group was speaking. Luinithlas crouched among the rocks above a cave she had found herself heading toward, peering down cautiously. Below her were gathered five gnolls, snarling and spitting, armed and haphazardly armored, and all of them bleeding from superficial wounds. The defense Anarven had put up last night had been spirited indeed.

Haldreithen arrived at the same place, but on the opposite side of the cave as his companion. He was close enough that he could see her across the way, crouched as she was among the rocks, though he didn't think the creatures would notice. He didn't recognize their language or know what they were saying, but he had a feeling they weren't likely to leave Anarven in peace without convincing. The question was how many of them were there" Was it just the five or them, or were there more" Were they scouts or hunters or something else? And what did they want with Anarven?

They might not get answers. Luinithlas heard the snap of brittle wood behind her, smelt the musk of bloodied fur. She whipped around, and there stood another of the gnolls, eyeing her with deep suspicion. She had nowhere to run to from here and only one escape route. Oh, well ....hopefully Hal wouldn't be too angry with her.

With swift movements, she nocked an arrow to her bow and leapt backward in a graceful flip, firing even as she descended into the midst of the gnoll's below. Her arrow sank deep between the sixth gnoll's eyes, ending him as a threat, at least. But now she was standing in the midst of the startled camp, and there were only seconds to decide what happened next.

What happened next was that a second arrow whizzed through the air, just missing Luinithlas to embed itself in the throat of the gnoll standing closest to her. All hell broke loose after that, the gnolls only startled for a split second before drawing their own weapons and turning on their foe. Hal loosed another arrow as he jumped into the fray, positioning himself so that he had Luin's back and she had his.

Back to back, the two elves faced the circle of gnolls, dwarfed by the hyena-like bipeds as they loomed over the pair. Luinithlas hooked her bow back into place, drawing curved daggers from her hips.

"Sorry," she told Hal over her shoulder. "Didn't have a chance to let you know what I was thinking."

One of the gnolls swiped at her, and she ducked under the outstretched claw, slicing upward with her dagger. Hot black-red blood sprayed over her as the beast staggered back with a howl of pain.

She nodded once again, drawing her bow and nocking an arrow as she readied herself to follow. It never hurt to be ready for an attack, especially in woods they now knew to contain hostile creatures.

He fell silent as he led the way from the cave and the fallen gnolls, footsteps making no sound as they moved quietly through the forest toward the river not more than a few miles away. He was acutely aware of his surroundings, of the sounds of the forest, one hand resting lightly against his sword's grip. It would be night soon, but that wasn't what worried him.

Luin followed him on silent feet, their woodcraft almost inbred rather than learned. Elves passed through forests like a whisper through a crowded room, sometimes suspected but rarely noticed. There was no sound of pursuit, nor any sign of another group of gnolls nearby. It seemed, for now, that everything was still.

He hoped wolves would find the remains and pick them clean by morning, but perhaps the creatures were too vile even for wolves. He found no joy in killing, and yet, he had sworn to protect the village and the people who lived there, and it was the creatures who had attacked them first. He had thought they'd be safe here, and now this. Was there never to be peace anywhere"

These were some of the thoughts that were going through his head while they made their way through the woods. It was a short walk to the river, not more than a few miles distant, both of them silent until the sound of water rushing over rocks was heard nearby signaling their arrival. "I haven't seen any tracks. Have you?"

"No," she said quietly, still scanning the area. "I've not heard or seen any sign of their passage. I don't think anything is close by, and with the sun going down, we should find a defensible place for the night ourselves."

"What would you suggest?" he asked, curiously. After all, she'd been here longer than he did and knew the terrain better. There was one place in particular he knew of, but he was curious to see if she'd suggest that same place.

The redhead bit down on a smirk, glancing over his shoulder to the rushing water behind him. It had a familiar scent to it. "There's a cave, about half a mile upstream," she told him, though she was sure he knew about it. "The entrance is concealed behind a waterfall, but the cave itself is dry. We've been keeping it stocked with provisions for anyone caught out at night."

"Another cave?" he asked, blond brows furrowed in feigned curiosity. "I wonder why the prince never told me of this place," he said, the barest hint of a smirk on his face, evidence of his attempt to tease her. Of course, he already knew about the place; he had even been there once or twice. "Lead on," he said, echoing the same words she'd told him, only a short while ago and waving her onward in front of him.

"Perhaps Carina never told him," Luin countered with a wicked tease of her own, shouldering her bow once again as he waved her ahead of him. Her grin was confident and cocky once again, certain now that he knew where she was talking about. "Which cave was it you were thinking of?"

Hal practically snorted in disbelief. "I doubt there is anything they do not tell the other. They are - how do the humans phrase it - thick as thieves?" He stepped back a pace to let her pass, drawing his bow as he took the rear. Though he wasn't expecting any trouble, it never hurt to be prepared. "Which cave was I thinking of?" he asked, as if she should already know the answer to that question. "The one we just came from, though I do not wish to spend the night there."

It was Luin's turn to snort. "No, it is not good to sleep with the enemy, even a dead one," she agreed teasingly, ducking through the brush that lined the stream, careful to avoid leaving wet footprints on stone or in the mud.

He followed along behind her, keeping his voice low and his steps light. They were not safe yet, nor would they be, until they found shelter in a secure place. "Do you know what sort of creatures they are?" he asked, once again remembering that she had lived in Rhy'Din longer than he had.

"I've never seen them before, but I've heard stories," she answered, setting her teasing aside to answer him seriously. "I think they might be gnolls, but I've never heard of those in these parts before. Something must have driven them into our area. If we're lucky, they're just passing through."

"You think there may be more of them, then?" he asked, turning serious. Though he enjoyed the easy camaraderie between them, this was not the time or the place for it, not while their lives and the lives of the villagers might be in danger.

"As far as I know, from what I have been told, they're pack animals," she murmured, as the sound of rushing water grew louder ahead of them. "Seven does not seem large enough for a pack, though it is certainly large enough for the attack on Anarven last night."

"It is large enough for a hunting party," Hal reasoned, following the sound of the rushing water. If that was the case, there were more of them out there somewhere. Would they come looking for their pack mates or presume the worst"

The waterfall rose out of the gathering gloom ahead of them, the sound of water on water on rock growing louder to mask the sounds of the forest around them as Luin lead the way into the thick brush that grew close to the water's edge. The cave behind the waterfall was difficult to see until it was right in front of you, and with eyes accustomed to seeing in darkness, there was little difficulty for the two elves in walking inside, past the rushing wall of water.

"The village knows to expect trouble tonight," Luin reassured Hal. "They won't be taken unawares as we were last night."

"I sense no evil in these woods," Hal remarked, with a brief look around as they came to halt near the rushing water. And yet, not all dangers were evil. Some were merely struggling for existence. He wasn't sure about the gnolls yet. Though they were certainly vile creatures, he was not sure they were evil.

"Gnolls are evil creatures, my tutors taught me that," she mused, looking back into the forest with a quiet sigh. "But I think we will be undisturbed tonight. We dare not be abroad after dark with such unknown beings sharing the forest with us."

"I have not seen their like before," Hal admitted. Ilyethlin certainly had its own share of evil creatures, but the chief enemy of the elves there had been men. "One of us should stand guard, just in case, don't you think?" he asked, trusting her judgment. Though he was the elder of the two, she knew more of Rhy'Din than did he.

"I have never considered you a child, Luin," he pointed out, reluctant to remove his hand from hers, but they both badly needed a bath. He was almost close enough to kiss her, but instead, he merely handed her a towel, his eyes never leaving hers. "I will stand guard while you bathe," he promised, though he would have given almost anything to join her.

Her smile softened as he handed her the towel, her head tilting as she considered him for a long moment. "You could join me," she offered quietly, though she knew she was skirting the edge of something just by offering. If he were to say yes, if they were to become that close ....there would be no going back. What if he didn't feel for her what she felt for him"

"And if I did?" he asked, not quite asking flat out if she was ready and willing to accept the consequences of her offer. She was young, after all, but no child, and not all that much younger than him. He did not speak of his feelings for her, not yet, though merely daring to call her more than friend spoke for itself.

Her chin tilted upward for a moment, her breath teasing his lips. "Can you truly not tell, m'emel?" she asked in a low whisper. Her smile was almost bittersweet as she drew in a slow breath, stepping back. "I do not mean to pressure you. But you would not be unwelcome."

He studied her in the darkness, searching her eyes and reaching for her hand to draw her back to him, not yet ready to let her depart. He knew she was giving him permission, and yet, he wondered if she understood what such a thing meant to the elves of his world. "I would not accept such an offer lightly, melamin," he told her. Elves were not like men - at least, not those of Ilyethlin. Agreeing to couple was the same as agreeing to wed in the eyes of his people.

"I would not make it lightly," Luin told him, against surprised by how eager he was to touch her when they had both been careful not to touch one another for months, years. "I am not so young that I do not understand the consequences of my offer, Hal. I do not have riches or great talents or even considerable beauty. All I have to offer you is my lifetime at your side. If you want it."

"I do not need or desire riches. You are as precious to me as the rarest of gemstones and as lovely as all the stars in the sky," he told her, in a voice hushed with emotion. It was a rare thing for him to speak of his feelings, and even rarer to share such thoughts with her. "You are all I could ever desire; all I could ever need."

Touched, despite herself, Luin leaned into him without thought, green eyes fixed to his, wide and warm and hopeful. "I am yours," she swore to him ....but being who she was, she could not simply remain honest and serious for long. "I would rather you didn't eat me or only use me for a blanket on cold nights, however."

Despite the sincerity of his words, he couldn't help but smirk a little at her sense of humor. He had always been too serious, but somehow she had a way of making him smile and even laugh. "I do not make a habit of eating my own kind," he assured her, though she hardly needed any reassurance there. "And I am rarely cold."

"You are filthy, though," she countered, the tip of her nose brushing his as her warmer, more confident smile returned to her face, reassured to know his heart and know that he was aware of hers. "And so long as we keep weapons close, I see no reason why we couldn't both wash off."

But it wasn't just them that needed a bath, as it was their clothing that needed scrubbing, soaked as they were in the gore of the battle. "Without a fire, our clothes will not be dry by morning," he remarked, though if they were lucky, there might be a change of clothing amidst the pile of supplies. He didn't pull away when her nose brushed his, but the tiniest quirk of a smile touched his lips.

"We don't need a fire to dry our clothes," she murmured impishly, drawing away once again to remove her gloves and begin unwinding the braids from her bloodied hair.

"Ah, perhaps you know some wizardry in that regard, too, then," he teased as she drew herself away, his eyes tracking her movement. Just the mere act of unwinding her braids in his presence was intimate enough without having removed a single stitch of clothing.

"A little," she admitted, glancing toward him with a smile that invited more than it teased. "Enough to prevent our needing to light a fire. I do not particularly wish to hunt firewood tonight."

"Nor do I," he admitted. Nor did they need to find food, it seemed, as everything they needed was waiting for them inside the cave. She was right about one thing - before they did anything else, they needed to scrub themselves clean. In that regard, his hands moved to unbuckle his own belts and bindings and harnesses.

Her eyes followed him in the darkness, her vision sharpening as night fell and the moons rose, spilling silvery light through the rush of the waterfall. Long fingers picked her braids loose with care, each bead and copper wire fastening saved and set aside into a small pouch for that purpose alone, even as she admired Hal with an openness she had not allowed herself before. There was something she hadn't yet said, she knew, but she couldn't bring herself to say it in the common tongue. Their elven languages were not so very different, after all.

"Amin mela lle, m'emel."

His gaze followed her, as well, each braid coming loose only deepening his desire - a longing that was as much of the heart as the body. He drew off his tunic, bloodied as it was, and dropped it aside to wash later. He was taller than average for an elf, muscles honed by battle, but his build more agile than muscular, as were most of his kind. His eyes met her in the moonlight, his heart catching at the entreaty of love - words that would have touched his heart in any language, but somehow seemed that much more ardent in their native tongue. They had skirted the subject for some time, never quite speaking the words, until now, though both must have been dreaming of this. Even elves grew impatient sometimes.

"Amin mela lle, melamin," he replied, his voice soft but loud enough for her to hear.

Her smile deepened, eyes sparkling in the gloom as she let her gaze skim his chest, admiring the lean lines of his form with more than mere admiration. Her hair finally loose, she shook it out over her shoulders, almost hiding behind it as she slipped off first her coat, and then her tunic, bending to unlace her boots. The movement concealed her bared skin behind her hair, but allowed him the best view of her leather covered backside he had yet enjoyed.

"Lle naa vanima," he whispered as he watched her. You are beautiful.

Though she did not think herself beautiful, he saw her through the eyes of one who loved her and thought her as beautiful as the stars in the sky. There could be no higher compliment from an elf. He closed the distance between them, turning her to face him and combing his fingers through the silken fall of her hair. He had not yet kissed her, and yet, his lips burned with the desire to taste the sweetness of her kiss.

"When you reach for me, I will be there, from this day until my last day," Luin answered him, understanding that this was their promise. From this night onward, they would not willingly be apart.

He did not promise to protect her, knowing she was capable of protecting herself, but he had promised to love her, and as such, to always be with her for the remainder of their lives together. Unlike men, they were not vows that elves made lightly, as the bond once forged between them was unbreakable.

"As will I," he echoed her promise, drawing her closer, and at long last, touching his lips to hers in the tenderest of kisses.

Though others of their race might consider them too young to have made such vows to one another, others did not matter in the slightest to either of them. The promises were made in good faith, in love; the desire did not rise until the love had been confirmed and shared, not until Luin breathed him in and let her fingers brush his ears before her arms curled about him in the warmth of the water's embrace.

Once those vows were consummated with their lovemaking, there would be no breaking them. Such was the way of their people that such a bond was considered sacred and unbreakable, until their last dying breath. It was a bond not only of the body but of their hearts and their souls. Two such joined could never been sundered. Somehow, it seemed fitting that they should seal those vows here beneath the sky and the stars and the moon. They needed no ceremony or witnesses; everything they needed was right there before them, found in the kisses and caresses shared with their beloved.

And there was no need to rush. They knew now where they were going; knew they were walking that path side by side. They had the night ahead of them, hours to spend purely with one another. They could take their time. And that was reflected in the way Luin drew back, tenderly kissing Hal's eyes as her fingers skimmed his braids.

"Let me take them down?"

He gave her a slight nod of his head in agreement. It was strangely intimate the way her fingers touched his hair, just as she had the tips of his ears. For an elf, every touch, every caress, however innocent, was as intimate as the act of lovemaking itself and was to be just as savored.

She smiled, pressing her forehead to his for just a moment, pleased to be trusted with such an intimate act. Her fingers smoothed over one of the braids, seeking the wire wrap that held it securely, gently unwrapping it and holding that wire between her lips as she unraveled the twisted hair between her fingers.

Undoing the braids seemed strangely more intimate than undressing, close as they were, his eyes watching her, studying her face, just as he'd done so many times before; but this time the face that he studied was no longer merely that of his friend, but that of his beloved - she who would soon be his wife. He reached for her hand once the braids were untangled and pressed a kiss to each of her fingers, slowly, in no hurry, as if they had all the time in the world.

Her fingertips stroked his lips tenderly, her eyes following every motion as he kissed her fingers, locking to his gaze with intimate promise. In the water around them, blonde and red hair swirled together in a cloud to surround them both, mingling in the movement of the pool.

He drew her briefly beneath the water, to steal her breath with another kiss, arms and legs tangling with hers as they floated there together beneath the warm water. With a kick of his legs they resurfaced, allowing her a moment to catch her breath before he kissed her again and again, each kiss a little deeper and more demanding than the last.

Desire flared to accompany the love, heat building inside that could not be denied any longer as Luin drew Hal back toward the waterfall, toward the cave behind it, wanting more than a quick fumble with the added risk of drowning. They had time - time enough to dry off, to lay out bedrolls, to savor their connection as they sealed their promises.

They had kindled the flame of desire together, and now that they'd scrubbed themselves clean of battle, there was no rush in savoring what was to be their first exploration of the other. He smiled as she drew him back toward the waterfall and the cave behind it. There was a chill in the air, once they were free of the water, but neither seemed to notice or care. They took their time drying off, in silent admiration of the other, and just as silently laid out the bedrolls, eager but unhurried to wrap each other in a loving embrace.

Her fingers skimmed his side when all was ready, an almost shy invitation to pick up where they had left off, each movement accompanied by the crackle of gentle static in the dry, silken fall of her hair.

"Show me, m'emel," she murmured softly.

There was something wild about her, with her hair unbraided and falling like a scarlet mane about her shoulders and back. Perhaps there was something wild about him, too, in the thrill he felt when she touched him, and the heat of desire that was like a fire burning him from the inside. He needed no coaxing to show her his love, to share it with her, to give it to her freely and with all his heart and soul. Neither who had ever been with another before needed no instructions, no experience, only instinct and desire leading the way. Show her, he did, leading the way with kisses and caresses meant to give her pleasure as much as himself. Every sigh of breath, every smile, every tremor guiding the way.

Perhaps hours passed, perhaps seconds. An eternity or a heartbeat, it didn't matter which. More passed between them than mere physical pleasure, threads unraveling to tie tighter, forging the bond that would hold them true all the days of their long lives. There was no sense of urgency in their passion, no need to hurry themselves. They had the time, they had the love, they had the passion. They had everything they needed, right here, in each other's arms.

The moons had traveled across the sky, but it was still dark, the stars still twinkling down at them, though they could not see them from the confines of the cave. Arms and legs were twined together, her head resting comfortably in the crook of his shoulder, their breaths soft and even and in time with the other. There was no going back now, nor did he ever wish to. A thought came to him, and he smiled in amusement.

"Do you think they'll be surprised that we've bonded?" he asked, not having to explain who he meant by "they".

Luin laughed quietly in the darkness, nestling ever closer into his arms. "I think they will be put out that we did not tell them we were going to," she murmured, her voice thick with mirth. "The elders like to throw parties."

"Anarven," he said, naming the place - the sanctuary in the woods - where they lived in peace with those of their own kind, as well as a smattering of Halflings and humans. "It is almost as if - as if someone or something brought us here, knowing we needed sanctuary."

She smiled, her sadness set aside. "It is called the Nexus," she told him easily. "In Rathloren, she would have been a goddess to us. Here, she is an entity, a being, who brings people together when they need it most."

"So I've been told," Haldreithen admitted, though her smile was met by a frown on his face. "Why do you think it took so long though?" he asked. It wasn't that he wanted to second guess whatever power had brought them here, but he'd wondered.

"Perhaps she couldn't see us," Luin murmured. "Or perhaps she helps those who help themselves. I think it is clear that our elders were seeking a way to save us, and Prince Arandir came through to Rhy'Din to find a way to save you. It would make sense. Saving those who have already given up is not an effort worth making."

"We never gave up, but ..." He was frowning again at the memory of his home and what had befallen them there. "It was hopeless, Luin. Nothing short of a miracle would have saved us."

"A miracle did," she reminded him, drawing her fingers over his chest, pressing her palm to his heart. "The last son born to your people found love and a home here, with a child born of refugees from another world."

"And so have I," he murmured, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips. His gaze lingered on hers for a long moment before he spoke again. "It will not be morning for some hours, and I am not sleepy," he told her, his eyes shining hopefully.

One thing two years of watching her had taught Hal was just how inappropriate Luinithlas' sense of humor could be at times. "Oh, then you are volunteering for the first watch?" she asked innocently, playful mischief sparkling back at him from her smiling eyes.

He chuckled at her sense of humor, glad she was able to laugh so soon after sharing the tragedy of their pasts. "I thought we agreed that the trap was enough, but if you insist," he said, moving to roll out of the bedroll, unless she stopped him in time.

She laughed, reaching out to pull him back. "You are getting better at matching me," she complimented him, pulling him down into a languid, smiling kiss.

"Am I?" he asked, once she was done kissing him, at least for the moment. There was a smile on his face again, the shadow of grief faded for now. "I thought I matched you already," he said, curling his fingers into her hair and pressing another kiss on her, one that told her he would not be satisfied so quickly or so soon.

Her answer was just as sweet, just as wanting, unafraid of losing a single night's sleep to his affection. They would have to return to Anarven in the morning anyway, or risk having a search party sent out for them. Tomorrow night, they could sleep in safety together. Tonight, they would pull their new bond tight, entangled so deeply that no one could unravel it. Another little Nexus miracle.