Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or anything held therein. Do I look dead to you?
E/N: This is SLASH!!! I repeat, you are about to read a SLASH fic. For those of you unaware, slash is a slang term for "all boy action" (as the lovely Orli once accidentally said to Graham Norton, of all people!). The definition of slash is a male/male relationship. And judging by the rating of this fic, if you're a little squeamish in this department, I suggest you don't read any further. For anyone favouring the Aragorn/Legolas paring however: ENJOY!!
To any slash writers: This is my first attempt at slash, so please give me feedback and tell me what you think.
Nightbird*Songbird: if you're reading this, I live in your shadow! Please, can you also tell me what's good, bad, well-written etc. Your opinion will be very much appreciated!
Oh yeah, and parts of this were written when I was very drunk. So if something seems unfitting, well, that'll be the reason.
My main reference is ROTK film, though I have made some references to the book. Slight changes have been made on my behalf, and any film quotes may not be exact, I was doing them from memory.
Translations:
Heru = teacher/lord
Aredhelamin = my (Elf) lord
Quel rë = good day
Mellonamin = my friend
It's simply matter of sharing
*~ Legolas' POV ~*
I see his pain and torment. He fears that mountain, for he knows the power he has to control its inhabitants, and he fears that also. And if a companion may not help another in their hardest hours of questing for the correct answers, what sort of friend is he?
I watch him prepare his horse discreetly, without drawing attention to the fact that I am doing the same. He is filled with every intention of leaving without being noticed, totally alone. I think he has overestimated the calming effect I'm having on Gimli, and overlooked the effect Gimli is having on me.
"Just where d'you think you're off to?" Gimli grumbles as Aragorn passes him. He stands to go with the ranger. Aragorn shakes his head.
"Not this time. This time you must stay, Gimli," he replies, a hint of sadness in his voice. Gimli stares at him defiantly and I appear at the other side of the ranger.
"Have you learnt nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?" I ask with a smirk, whilst thinking 'And of me? Do you think I would leave you? Especially now, after coming so far, after all we've endured?'
"You'll just have to accept it. We're coming with you, laddie," Gimli declares. I praise the Valar for Gimli's wont to be overbearing. Aragorn would have been able to talk me out of it. He has always been able to talk me into or out of things. I am so weak when it comes to him.
Aragorn sighs with resignation, knowing he will not be able to shake off these two shadows lightly. He nods and mounts Brego, as I help Gimli onto Arod, then jump gracefully onto the horse's back. As our horses begin to move, distressed voices call to our leader, wondering at his departure, but not one of us turns to reply. We simply carry on going.
I do not fear death, as mortals do, for my race was not born to see or experience death. I wonder at it, yes, I wonder at its purpose, but beyond that, I feel nothing. So, as our faithful steeds panic and sweat, and my companions look hither and thither nervously all the while, I sit motionless, silent, upon Arod's back, thinking not of our whereabouts, but wishing only that fate had not dealt me the hand I have been given. To love one not destined to be mine.
As we ride side-by-side, out of the corner of my eye, I study Aragorn's handsome, chiselled features: keen grey eyes, a finely carved nose, the current grim line of his mouth, all etched with concern. His posture is tense and upright. 'Kingly,' I think. And that he is. If anyone ever was born to be a King, it is this man beside me. He is tall and proud. Confidence and grace emanate from him. He is a natural leader, and I will follow him to whatever end, for I love him.
I love everything about him. His poise, his humility, his ruggedness, his love of nature, the contrast of stern and gentle that make him so unique. And the fact that he is one of the handsomest men I've ever met may contribute to the cause also.
We've been friends for a long time, since he was in his teens, gaining his first experiences of hunting and scouting - he even assisted in some small skirmishes with solitary bands of orcs that appeared from time to time. I aided the Sons of Elrond in tutoring the man, during my stays in Imladris, in the ways of battle. Archery, knife work, hand-to-hand combat, swordplay, self-defence. Between the three of us, we taught him all he needed to know about how to survive in this harsh world.
From the moment I first laid eyes on him, I knew he was special. Before I discovered his title, even at the tender age of 12, I could sense the authority and leadership within him, though he suppressed it at the time. And as he grew and developed into a mature adult (by Man's standards, of course) and showed this responsible, authoritative attitude, it stirred something in me that had been dormant too many a year to recall.
To begin with, I was disgusted with myself for having such dishonourable thoughts about a child - for that he was. I would have to force my self to think to think cold, harsh, almost evil thoughts to stop my arousal from showing or growing when scuffling with him, constantly being up close and pressed against him. But gradually I learnt to accept it. He had shown vague, subtle signs of possibly thinking along the same lines. And with hormonal teenage men, you never can be too sure of anything.
And then one day, my dreams were both made real and yet shattered, for if it hadn't begun, I would not be seeking the end now.
*~FLASHBACK~*
The sun lay low in the sky, as the Elf and Man sat in the clearing wearily.
"You have done extremely well today, Estel," Legolas told the 18-year old.
"Thank you, heru," Estel replied. The Mirkwood Prince sighed.
"I've told you, you don't need to call me that. I get enough of my titles at home." Estel grinned mischievously.
"I'm joking, Legolas. You know I only say it to wind you up." Legolas rolled his eyes. "But really, thank you for all that you've taught me. I'll never be able to repay you for the knowledge you have given me."
"I do not teach you for repayment. Seeing you develop by the day and knowing you enjoy it - plus having a friend to while my days with - is all the payment I need." An odd look passed over the man's face.
"You consider me a friend?" Legolas was confused.
"Of course I do. Why would I not? We spend a lot of time together, we know much of one another. That makes us companions in my eyes. Is that a problem? Have I overstepped a boundary somewhere?" A faint, somewhat obscured smile lit Estel's face for a fleeting moment.
"No. No, I am glad. I have often wondered at our… relationship. I suppose I always have thought our association is purely professional. I am glad to have you as a friend." Legolas did not fail to notice the pause or the emphasis on relationship, but he said nothing. 'It's probably just you jumping to conclusions again,' he thought, though he couldn't help but look at Estel curiously. After a few minutes, Estel snapped his fingers in front of Legolas' eyes, making the Elf jump.
"Sorry, what?" Estel grinned.
"You left us for a minute there. You were off in fields of flowers or something, no doubt."
"Not quite." 'Bed of flowers may have been nearer to the truth.
"Care to tell me?" Legolas blushed slightly.
"I… well… no, not really." Estel barked a laugh.
"Ah-ha! Well, well, well! Master Legolas having indecent thoughts in the presence of such a young man. Tut, tut, aredhelamin. What would your father say?" Legolas scowled.
"And you're telling me you've never had 'indecent thoughts', as you call them."
"Oh yes, all the time. But at least I can blame them on hormones. You have naught but the company of a shirtless pupil to accuse." Legolas continued scowling, though colour rose to his cheeks.
"I think that shall be all for today, Estel. I shall meet you here again tomorrow, along with Elladan and Elrohir, for a lesson of your choice, with the tutor of your choice." Legolas stood to leave.
"I already know which tutor I'd like." Legolas' heart began to race. 'Keep calm,' he ordered himself. 'He may not say you.' With a mask of nonchalance, he turned back to his pupil.
"Do you now?" The Prince folded his arms. Estel stood also.
"Yes. If you would be so kind, Legolas, I should like you to teach me again."
"Who am I to deny any request of the foster son of my host?" Estel looked to the ground, bashfully, and avoided eye contact as he said,
"What exactly do you mean by any?" Legolas tilted his chin up and looked him in the eyes.
"What do you think I mean?"
Their lips met nervously, though they held one another tightly. Their passions rose as their tongues gave battle in one another's mouths. When they eventually drew apart, both looked shocked and both were breathless.
"I-I never realised…" Estel trailed off. Legolas wanted to jump and praise and sing his happiness, but instead - for a reason he could not find - he forced himself to deny the young man of what they had evidently both been waiting for, for a long time.
"… that was not supposed to happen. I'm… sorry, Estel."
"Don't be. Legolas, I-"
"I shall see you tomorrow. Quel rë, Estel." Estel watched the Elf leave despairingly. He knew Legolas felt the same, he'd seen it in his eyes, not to mention the impassioned kiss they had just shared. But all he could do was stare sorrowfully after him.
Of course, this was not their last encounter. The kiss haunted them both, night and day, and eventually Legolas gave in to his desires. For two years following, they had a very physical relationship that was kept secret from all but a very select few. And this relationship only made Legolas' love grow stronger. Then, one fatal day, when Estel laid eyes on the fair Lady Arwen, the Mirkwood Prince's dreams truly were shattered. Since that day, they had been as close as brothers. When together, inseparable. But Legolas' love never faded.
*~END FLASHBACK~*
Someone snapping their fingers before Legolas' eyes woke him from his reverie.
"Are you well, Legolas?" The Elf's eyes focused on Aragorn. He looked and felt confused.
"Sorry… what?"
"You left us for a minute there," the ranger said, smirking. Legolas' eyes narrowed curiously on his friend. Could it be possible that Aragorn knew of what he'd been thinking?
"Fields of flowers," he murmured, almost to himself.
"What?" It was Aragorn's turn for confusion.
"I think the Elf is going mad," Gimli put in. "All this evil around us. It's sending the poor lad crazy." Legolas broke eye contact with Aragorn and looked ahead.
"You may be right, Gimli."
Why was he bringing all that back into conscious memory? He hadn't thought on his and Aragorn's sexual relationship for a long time. Not even during the Quest of the Ring, until now. So, why now? 'Perhaps I know I am going to die,' he reasoned in thought, 'and my mind is producing my happiest memories so that I not only die honourably, but somewhat happily also.' He sighed and shook his head.
*~ Aragorn's POV ~*
It took me a moment, but now I remember. That very first time we kissed. Why is he thinking of that now? We talked and talked years ago. I thought it was all ended. I love Arwen. My sexual dealings with Legolas ended from the moment I saw her. There is no other, just her and me.
But I know he loves me also. I thought I loved him once. Perhaps I still do, but one thing I know for certain is I love no other as I do Arwen. She is my world… was my world. She is dying now. My lord Elrond says she will not last this war. And so I lose my Queen. I know he would not lie to me, much as he wishes his daughter to return to the Valinor.
I am never to see she whom I love so much again.
Would it then be wrong to seek solace in the arms of another I once loved…?
*~ Gimli's POV ~*
You'd have thought they'd at least be discreet. But it is plain for all to see that something beyond friendship runs with those two, whether past, present or yet to be. I think Lady Éowyn nearly had a heart attack when she realised.
But it's so damn confusing. Where does Elrond's daughter fit into all this? As far as I am aware, she and Aragorn are betrothed. But… oh, I shall never understand Men or Elves. I should just give up trying.
I'm not even going to bother working it out.
…maybe there's some weird threesome thing going on…
**
All that saw it stood and stared. Legolas single-handedly brought down an Oliphaunt, killing all those riding it too, and not a single hair was out of place. He slid down the Oliphaunt's trunk gracefully, and jumped to a halt in front of Gimli, giving the Dwarf a look that, verbally, would have been somewhere in the region of 'Beat that'. Even the Dwarf looked impressed for a fleeting second, though it was quickly reverted back to the usually disgruntled mask of envy and competitiveness.
"That still only counts as one," he grumbled. Legolas grinned, knowing that was a compliment.
The army of the dead destroyed all the remaining orcs, trolls and Oliphaunts, and Éowyn of Rohan brought down the Witch King of Angmar, with the help of Meriadoc of the Shire.
But despite all this, Aragorn could only drink the sight of his Elven best friend, with his cool, calm demeanour. So much poise, so much grace. Since his revelation in the Dimholt, Aragorn had been paying a lot of attention the Elf Prince. Studying his every movement, every word. He'd lost his one true love. If he lived to see a new age of peace and freedom, why not share it with the person he did still have? His subjects would frown upon it at first, but they would learn to accept that their King had a male lover.
But still he could not bring himself to say anything to Legolas. If Arwen lived… if she wasn't dying… if she hadn't sailed over the sea, he would hurt both the Elves he longed to be with, as well as, most likely, losing them both. 'I would rather die than hurt either of them,' he thought grimly.
Three days passed and the army of the West gathered on the Pelennor. Legolas and Gimli were to ride again together in the company of Aragorn and Gandalf, though this needn't have been stated, for there was an unspoken vow between Legolas and Aragorn to stay with one another to whatever end. They both swore to Frodo in Imladris to help him destroy the Ring and protect him as they were able. They were both committed to this cause, and so would not be parted. 'Thank the Valar,' Legolas thought.
**
*~ Legolas' POV ~*
Loath as I am to admit it, Aragorn has once again moved me close to tears. Never have I heard such a rousing speech. He has dispelled the doubts of all who stand against the Black Land. Fear may still grip us, but he has enforced our knowledge that we are fighting against Sauron to save our families and our homes, to help Frodo on the way to victory, to bring down the shadow that has haunted our world for two long. Death may take us this very hour, but there is no more worthy cause than this.
"A day may come when we forsake our friends, and break all bonds of fellowship…"
I solemnly swear to any looking down upon me this second, I will never forsake any that I hold close to me. Never will I act upon selfish will to save my own life, leaving others to die. Aragorn has shown me what it is to live, in the past and in the present. I have yet to repay him for all that he has taught me, though he does not realise that he has taught me at all.
I see the faith and love these men have for their captain, and it heartens me, for I too share this faith and love in him. I am sitting here willing these foul beasts to take me, so I no longer have to love this great man, and yet I have no desire in the slightest to die before the chance to hold him one last time comes my way.
**
Fear filled every heart, even that of Legolas of Mirkwood. 'I am to meet my death before the Black Gates of Mordor,' the Elf thought in resignation. '500 against 100,000? This is a suicide act. But I have no regrets. Save one.'
The Army of the West was completely surrounded. All of them were sending silent prayers to the heavens, preparing themselves for death.
"Aragorn," Legolas said in a low voice, putting his hand on the future King's arm. They looked one another in the eye. Both motionless for a moment, simply staring at each other, and then Aragorn nodded and the faintest, yet most loving, of smiles flicked at his lips. Those azure eyes told him all he needed to hear.
"I know," he murmured. He then looked into the faces of his closest companions. Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas, Merry and Pippin.
"For Frodo." And with that, he charged towards what seemed to be inevitable death, closely followed by the hobbits, and then every other soldier.
Sword met sword in a terrifying thunder of brutality. Orc spears were held horizontal so that many of Aragorn's men were impaled immediately as they charged, before they had their chance to earn any glory in battle. It is a sad fate that they were on the very brink of victory, and yet they never lived to see the days of peace and hope restored, not the Return of the King. But that sad matter could be dwelled on by none, for to do so would be instant death. The time would come for mourning.
Legolas tried to keep sight of his companions, but to do that and stay alive at the same time was near impossible. He knew Gimli was - or had been - behind him, and Gandalf was away to his left. Where the hobbits and Aragorn were was a mystery to him, and that worried him. He knew this would be the last battle that he saw, but to die not knowing who lived would torment his eternal soul and not allow him to rest easy in his grave - were he lucky enough to get one.
His other fear was watching them die - any of them - and not being able to help them. Even if the Dark Lord himself strode out and stopped him, and there was no physical way to save them, he would be wracked with guilt so intense, it would send him insane.
He worried so for Pippin and Merry, for they were so little - 'Most likely dead already,' he thought miserably. They were feisty, committed, brave, strong even, and true. But a hill troll stood at around 7ft. taller than them and could squash them without even realising it had killed anything.
He saw a troll out of the corner of his eye and turned to be rid of it. So quick was his arm, he could shoot the monster a few times and lose no time in protecting himself. Or at least he could have done if he hadn't watched the troll knock Aragorn to the ground. The man fought his hardest to try and get up, meeting its sword several times to prevent his head from being severed. But then the troll lifted its grotesque foot and very slowly brought it down upon him, intent on crushing the life out of him, slowly and painfully.
"ARAGORN!!!" Legolas cried out. He began to fight his way forward to try and save his best friend and former lover. But orc upon orc upon orc stood in a vast barrier to prevent him from reaching the man. He slashed and stabbed and shot and hit, but every attempt was in vain because for every orc he killed, another three appeared.
One tear leaked out of his left eye as he could see the air being crushed out of Aragorn. Then suddenly, what sounded like a child's voice rang out in the gloom and desperation of battle.
"The eagles are coming! The eagles are coming!" All looked to the sky as the glorious giant eagles swooped down and attacked the air-borne Nazgul.
Then the earth began to rock beneath their feet and rising swiftly up, far above the Towers of the Black Gate, high above the mountains, a vast soaring darkness sprang into the sky, flickering with fire. The earth groaned and quaked. The Towers of the Teeth swayed, tottered and fell down in a fantastic display of defeat; the mighty rampart crumbled; the Black Gate was hurled in ruin; and far away, now dim, now growing, now mounting to the clouds, there came a drumming rumble, a roar, a long echoing roll of ruinous noise.
When Legolas looked again, Aragorn was standing once more, barely, and relief swept of him. He had not lost his best friend after all. He shuddered at the thought. He looked around still more and let his relief completely take over him as he saw Gandalf standing tall and proud; Gimli jeering at the fleeing enemy; the hobbits clinging to one another, crying their hearts out for what they thought was the loss of two best friends; Aragorn staring at the defeated Black Land, a tear trickling down his face, part joy, part sorrow.
"The realm of Sauron is ended," said Gandalf. "The Ring-bearer has fulfilled his Quest."
**
*~ Legolas' POV ~*
I have decided on talking to Aragorn. But that thought fills me with so much fear. Even after all that has been endured, you would think I could summon the courage to speak to my best friend on a delicate matter. It is not as though he will turn me away and hate me, I know that much.
He sits across from me, as we await Frodo's awakening. Now is the perfect time to just take him to one side and talk to him privately, settle all this. Of course, you need courage to do a thing like that.
It is laughable. I can single-handedly defeat an Oliphaunt, but I cannot tell my best friend that I love him.
Why is it that all men, of whatever race with the exception of hobbits, are cursed to have a hard time admitting love and affection? We could all learn a thing or two from the hobbits.
*~ Aragorn's POV ~*
Legolas is anxious about something, and it is not only Frodo and Sam's health. Even now he sits looking pensive, when he should be happy and carefree, like in days of old.
I wish he would say something. Anything. It would lighten the atmosphere, even though that is not needed. And it would help us all stop worrying for him. I think this whole affair has affected him much more than he would care to admit.
**
Pippin sighed heavily.
"Frodo always was a dawdler," he said boredly. "Sam woke up two days ago. Why's he taking so long?"
"Shut up, Pip," Merry said, whilst gnawing on an apple.
"I'm only saying. And it's a fact. Frodo does dawdle."
"Pip, much as we love you, you are stupid. You wouldn't know a fact if it leapt up and stole your pipeweed. Frodo has suffered a little more than Sam has."
"I would too know it!" Pippin folded his arms defiantly. "No one's stealing my pipeweed."
"Pippin, you haven't got any to be stolen."
"Oh yeah."
Legolas watched them curiously. Even as Pippin insulted his best friend, they sat holding hands, Pippin leaning on Merry. He then looked at Aragorn, who was laughing at Pippin's expense. He sighed as the youngest hobbit had. Why couldn't he have that freedom? That carefree attitude that made light of anything and everything, and made insults not hurtful at all, or at least not completely.
The sigh made Aragorn look at him.
"What ails thee, Legolas?" he asked, masking the depth of his concern.
"Nothing," Legolas replied. Aragorn arched an eyebrow.
"Come with me," he said. "I have just remembered some duties I must attend to, we can talk along the way." He looked at the others. "Gentlemen, inform us if Frodo awakens, otherwise, good day to you all. I shall see you later." The Elf and the Man walked away, talking quietly. Pippin leaned in close to Merry, whispering,
"They so fancy each other!" For which he received a clip round the ear and a:
"Grow up, Peregrin," from the wizard.
**
"Come on, what is troubling you, Legolas? I know something is wrong." Legolas kept looking ahead as he felt Aragorn's eyes boring into him.
"I am worried about Frodo, that is all."
"Do you take me for a fool?"
"Of course not!"
"Then stop lying to me. I've known you long enough to learn your mannerisms and attitude when you aren't completely telling the truth." The Elf couldn't help but smile a little.
"That is very true. I should have remembered. And since you do not really have any duties to attend to, may we go somewhere quiet to talk?" Aragorn laughed.
"The Palace isn't exactly buzzing with people, Legolas." The Prince frowned.
"I am aware of that. But still, I do not wish to confide in you, as I would of old, in the middle of a corridor in Minas Tirith." Aragorn nodded.
"Very well, mellonamin. We shall find a small, vacant sitting room." And that they did, whilst Legolas' heart beat ever faster with every step. Aragorn led them to a small room with an open fire, large bay windows that looked out over the city and Pelennor, and had several cushioned sofas and chairs.
"Comfortable enough for your Princely desires?" Aragorn jested.
"It shall suffice," Legolas replied, playing along. They both sat on one of the sofas.
"So, what do you wish to tell me, o radiant prince of Mirkwood?"
"Well… it is a difficult matter to approach." Legolas became sullen once more. Seeing this, Aragorn too grew serious.
"You know you can trust me, Legolas. I shall not breathe a word of what you wish to say."
"Would I be sitting here if I thought otherwise?" Aragorn shook his head. "You must bear with me. For a time now, I have been… remembering. A time of old when we knew nothing of the Dark Lord's plans or that the Ring had been found. A time when we…" he trailed off, blushing.
"When we were lovers?" Aragorn finished for him. Legolas nodded.
"I don't know why."
"I have too." Legolas looked at him curiously.
"You have?"
"Yes. Ever since we approached Dimholt. When I woke you from that reverie, and you muttered 'fields of flowers', I remembered too. The days of my youth are long gone, though I take comfort from remembering them."
"Then you will not hate me for saying that my feelings have never changed? I still love you, Aragorn."
"Legolas, best of friends, I could never, ever hate you, however much I willed it. And I know you love me still. I see the pain in your eyes each time Arwen and I are together. I see the sorrow on your face when you return to your bed each night and I am not with you. Even when you are not consciously remembering, I see and feel your hurt. Sometimes I wish that I did not love Arwen so, for I hate to see you suffer."
"I know you will take Arwen to be your Queen when she arrives-" But Legolas did not finish his sentence, for the overwhelming sorrow that passed over Aragorn's face startled him. "What is wrong?"
"Arwen shall not wed me. Arwen cannot wed me."
"If you believe that, you are a fool."
"When we were at the encampment, Lord Elrond came to see me. My Lady is dying. He warned me that she would not last this war. She may have already departed from this world forever."
"In all honesty, lord, I do not think Arwen Undómiel would let go of life so freely. She will live to see you again, I know it."
"I wish I could believe, Legolas, but I cannot. Thank you for your kind words, nonetheless."
"We shall see." Silence swallowed them.
"Please tell me what you were going to say. You did not finish your sentence." Legolas lowered his head.
"I was going to ask you for one last kiss before I lose you to another for eternity." Aragorn smiled.
"For a moment, I thought you were going to ask of me something terrible." They turned to face one another and leant in. As their lips locked, Legolas' arms automatically circled Aragorn's waist, and the man's hands tangled in the Elf's silken locks.
They remained like that for some time, neither one wishing it to end, both recalling years gone by, when they were free to touch and kiss and caress one another, without a thought to anyone else.
When they drew apart, they were both breathless. Resting his head on Aragorn's shoulder for a moment, Legolas smiled contentedly.
"Thank you, Aragorn."
"It was no chore you asked of me, Legolas."
"But still, you have freed me."
"What do you mean?" Legolas raised his head and looked at him.
"We can never be more than friends, Aragorn. Even if, as you believe, Lady Arwen has gone to her grave, you will always have her love, and she will have yours. You can never love another as you loved her, or receive the love she gave you. Not even I can begin to compare with what she gave you and will carry on giving you."
"Don't say that."
"It is only the truth, mellonamin. I do not expect anything of you now, only friendship."
"Legolas, I would…. I would have you lay abed with me once more!" Legolas smiled sadly and raised a hand to his cheek.
"No, Aragorn. We were lovers once, but no longer. Arwen is and was you true love. Your only true love. We must leave that behind us now." Aragorn kissed him again anxiously. Despite, his own words, Legolas responded enthusiastically.
"You see, you would not deny me!"
"No, I would not. I have not said I would. I simply advise we cease now what should have been buried long ago." Aragorn hung his head.
"I feel like a child being scolded for doing something naughty." Legolas tilted his chin up.
"Do not feel that way. You know I would do your every will. But I am trying to consider Arwen's feelings in all our actions."
"She would understand!"
"But it still would not be fair. Please Aragorn, do not make me go against my better judgement. I wish to be your friend. I long to be your lover, but it cannot be. When you see your Queen, you will understand."
"What if I don't want to understand? What if I want you to be mine and I to be yours for as long as I live?"
"You do not wish that. You love her. Please don't make this harder for me than it already is."
"Legolas, I think of you night and day! I remember your touch, the feel of you within me! It drives me crazy to know you're so near and yet so far!"
"I long to be with you, but-"
"Then do. Even if Arwen lives and we marry… Kings have consorts, do they not?" Legolas' face hardened.
"I will not be a common whore!!"
"No! And I do not ask it of you! Never would I reduce you to that. Arwen will never be able to please me as you can. She has not the… tools, to do so. Love from a male is so entirely different to that from a female. Please Legolas. I would never give you anything less than you deserve, and that is as much as I can provide. I would give you my all. I will tell Arwen before we marry, if we do. I shall explain. And if she understands, would you have me as yours again?"
"Of course I would, but guilt would lay on my shoulders so harshly…"
"I will ease that burden for you. Come to me, and I'll rid of it all."
"Aragorn, this is so difficult for me. Readily I would do as you ask, but it goes against all that I was brought up to believe. I cannot simply give you an answer in the blink of an eye."
"I know. I'm sorry. I understand. I should not be so inconsiderate."
"That has always been your way, to take the lead. And I would not change that for the world."
"But, do you think…?"
"I don't know what I think, Aragorn. Give me time."
"Yes. Yes, of course. I'm sorry. Take all the time you require."
**
*~ Aragorn's POV ~*
I may have been born to take the lead, but I hate being the centre of attention. Having my closest friends with me, however, on the grandest occasion I shall ever experience is most comforting. Our Fellowship will never end, even if we all stand on different corners of the earth.
They all look so refined and exquisite. I know they have donned their finest clothes to help mark this special occasion. And, grateful as I am, I think why? The last six months have been the hardest any of us probably have ever and likely will ever experience. We have seen each other at our worst, and beyond it. We stuck together, never hindering another. No one was better or more important than another, though one's individual wisdom in a subject was recognised respectfully. But now, rank, order, status, they all matter again. As I speak, thousands of people bow to me. It hurts, in a way, to see my friends - who have all earned just as much, and in the Hobbits' case more, renown than I - bow to me as their superior.
Smiles of pride and respect are on the faces of Gandalf and Gimli as I turn to face the people of my country - now that is going to take a long time getting used to. I close my eyes and take a breath, then sing the words of my coming - echoing those of Elendil from so many years passed.
"Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-melta." Of course, most people will not have a clue what I just said, but I know that those who understood will appreciate the meaning behind it.
I take a step forward and I see the joy and awe and respect and love that these people have for me. But I can only think 'how can these people celebrate my coronation and anticipate my fair and peaceful ruling when they know nothing of me or my past?'
I see Lady Éowyn and Faramir so besotted with one another as they bow to me. I am so happy that she has found someone she can truly love, and that he has found a wife that he might rule happily with in Ithilien. Éomer stands across from them and I see the adoration he has for his sister. He has given them his blessing, grudgingly so I hear, for he knows Faramir is a noble man and will treat his sister with more love than anyone else could possibly give.
A huge grin spreads across my face as Legolas- sorry, as Prince Legolas of Mirkwood walks towards me. He is wearing his Elven crown, his hair pulled back from his face in a different style to that which I had grown accustomed to during our journey. There is a small host of Elves behind him, a selection of those that will live under his ruling, for I have given him the forest that lies in Ithilien so that he might start his own colony in the time he is to remain in Middle Earth.
He looks magnificent in a long silver shirt that accentuates every muscle on his pleasantly slender body. Dark grey trousers hug his powerful legs, reminding all who see him of the speed and strength he is capable of. But all is dull in comparison with those sparkling azure eyes. To look into them is to be set on fire and yet frozen solid. They bore into me as I stand here, filling me with faith and promise. I could drown in those eyes.
I put my hand on his shoulder as a sign of the fast friendship we share, though the secret of our hearts is communicated through our eyes. He smiles back at me, though it is not entirely reciprocal. It is knowing. He is taunting me. Away from the crowds, he would most likely be chanting "I know something you don't know", as is his childish wont. Fool.
He moves out of my way and I am somewhat shocked to see my foster father and some of the Rivendell Elves. All but one of the faces can I see. A curious look must be on my face, I am sure, because I am very intrigued as to why this person should hide from me…
"Arwen?" I whisper, not daring to believe this is anything but a hallucination. She smiles faintly at me as she comes out from behind the flag that hid her. I cannot disguise or suppress the immense joy I feel as I look on her face, fairest of them all.
Disregarding any knowledge or care of what is socially acceptable - especially for a King - I pull her towards me and kiss her passionately, lifting her to ease this action (thankfully, the crowds around us cheer). I feel her smile broaden beneath my lips. When we draw apart, we are both smiling and she is laughing, a sound that I have so sorely missed for it eases the heart just to hear it. It looks as though Legolas was right after all…
Oh Valar.
I quickly look over my shoulder, fearful of what I might see, but he looks as happy for us as the rest of the crowd do, and for that I will be eternally grateful.
**
It was the eve of the marriage of King Elessar Telcontar and Arwen Undómiel. Aragorn paced his chamber nervously. He had still to speak with Arwen on the subject of Legolas, and much as he intended to, he was finding it very hard to tell the woman he was to marry that she was not the only being he loved and that the other was male.
But it had to be done, if only to save his friendship with Legolas and to save Arwen from what she may consider 'living a lie' if she found out in years to come. And so he sent for her, his heart racing painfully fast, and awaited her in his vast suite.
"You wished to see me," Arwen said as she entered. Aragorn rose from his seat and kissed her cheek.
"Good morning," he said lovingly, "yes, I wish to speak with you. Take a seat." They both did so.
"Is there a problem, Aragorn?" The King sighed.
"Yes. And no." She chuckled.
"You are becoming as vague as we Elves, giving both yes and no as an answer."
"I must explain. The matter on which I need to speak with you is delicate, so forgive me if I stumble around it. It is a problem that could - and will - affect our relationship. But it is not a problem, for whatever you ask of me, I will do. You are the most important person in my life."
"Go on."
"I know you are aware of the relationship I had with Legolas before you and I met."
"I am."
"Well… well, we have discovered that neither of us entirely… well, lost those feelings for one another. The reason we are as close as we are now is because nothing could ever break the bond we created, but I would not allow anything beyond friendship because of my love for you." Arwen remained silent, bidding him to continue. "Shortly before my coronation, Legolas and I spoke on this matter. I… I still love him, Arwen. I never realised before, but I loved him then and I love him now. Yet I love you also."
"I already know of this, Aragorn. I wondered how long it would take for you to speak with me personally." He was stunned.
"How can you know?" She smiled.
"Aragorn, my love, you forget how I know you. I have always known you loved both me and my cousin from Mirkwood, even before you knew yourself. You wish to ask me how I would feel if I were to share you with another. Would I allow you to lay with someone other than I, soon to be your legal wife?" He couldn't speak. He felt ashamed and happy and confused and relieved all at once. His head was swimming.
"My answer to you is this," she continued. "Once, when I first learnt of this, I was disgusted and outraged. The notion of a man making love to another man was completely foreign to me, and I thought it was hideous. Also, I could barely disguise my anger and indignation at knowing you would wish for me to share he whom I love so much. I have given my immortality for you, and it seemed as though you did not reciprocate all I gave you as much as you said you did." He bowed his face in shame.
"However, as time wore on, I began to hear more and more of instances of male-male relationships and I started to get used to the idea that it happened. I had no choice, for even my beloved Elladan confided in me his feelings for another of the Elves in my father's house, male of course. So, as I began to accept, I began to understand that your feelings for Legolas and your relationship had been as normal as my relationship with you. But still I could not accept that you loved another.
"Indeed, I would not be sitting here telling you this were it not for the conversation I had with Legolas, before you knew of my arrival." Aragorn's head snapped up. "Yes, Legolas told me all. My father and I, and those that travelled with us, arrived one or two hours before your coronation. Legolas greeted us kindly and warmly, but something was amiss. We have always been fairly close, perhaps because after my brothers and I, he is the youngest of our race, and so I asked him if he wished to talk. It took me a long time and eventually he told me it all, his version of events, as it were, and he told it almost exactly as you did.
"It was not what he told me, but how he said it that made me realise that the hearts of Men, especially this one sat before me now, are very capable of loving two people equally and not letting either person lose out. I also saw how broken he would be were he to be denied of the one person he has ever truly loved." With each second that ticked away, Aragorn's expression grew more hopeful. "I know that Legolas would not be your 'bit on the side' that you simply used to gain a pleasure that I cannot provide. You would love him as though there was no other in your heart. And I would not be left, the lonely wife, with nothing but stitching and sowing and raising children to fill her days with, while the husband 'plays away from home'. You would love me as though there is no other also, for you are capable of that. You would treat us equally."
"….you will still marry me, even though I love another also?"
"I love you, Aragorn. And what I want is for you to be happy. If that means you being with both Legolas and myself, then so be it. May I suggest that you do not make this arrangement too publicly known, however, for your people are not quite as understanding as I. And I have said nothing of this to Legolas. I leave that to you." He kissed her whole-heartedly.
"I do not deserve the love of one so beautiful and understanding and gracious," he said, such gratitude in his voice that cannot be described.
"Perhaps not, but you shall always have it, nonetheless." He held her in his arms for a long time.
"I love you, Arwen Undómiel."
"I know you do, Elessar of the line of Valandil."
**
One week after the marriage passed before Aragorn chanced to see Legolas long enough to tell him the good news.
Legolas did not look well. Presuming that Aragorn had made his choice between Arwen and himself - or rather, Arwen had expressed her preference - he had given up all hope of ever having the King as anything beyond his best friend again. Though he had decided now to distance himself, as much as was politely possible, it would be easier on both of them that way. No awkward or hard feelings. 'Hard… bad word to use.'
"Legolas!" Aragorn cried happily, embracing his friend.
"Elessar," the Elf replied, respectfully but monotonously. Aragorn's brow creased.
"Why do you call me that?"
"That is your name, is it not?"
"To the people of Gondor, yes. I do not expect my closest friends to call me such, however. Merry, Pippin and Sam still call me Strider!"
"You must specify your requirements then. Else, otherwise, how are we to know?" Aragorn was worried all the more now.
"What is wrong, Legolas? Why do you act so coldly towards me?"
"I see no reason to be happy and joyous as everyone else is." Aragorn suddenly realised what he meant. Legolas thought he had been rejected entirely, even after all that they had discussed. 'I must correct him. And I know just how to do that,' he thought.
"Well, I know of something that might cheer you a little. Follow me." Legolas felt reluctant at first, but then thought, 'what harm can it do?', so he followed his friend.
Aragorn led him, much to his surprise, to Legolas' own chamber that was his till he departed to Ithilien.
"Why have you brought me here?" he asked confusedly. Aragorn pushed him up against the door and attached his mouth to the pale column of Legolas' neck, kissing and caressing it. The Elf gasped in shock, pleasure and yet more confusion.
"What are you doing?!" he exclaimed.
"Kissing you," the man mumbled as he ran his hands down the Elf's chest.
"But… but Arwen!" Aragorn stopped for a moment.
"She does not mind. I told her, and I know you did too. She said as long as we are happy, she is okay with it. She knows I love her and would never reject her. She knows I love you too." He kissed him again, and this time pressed his body against Legolas'. Legolas could feel desire hardening in Aragorn's trousers. Legolas pushed him back.
"You mean that? You are not just saying it?"
"I spoke to her the day before we wed." Joy lit up the Elf's face beautifully.
"So we can be together once more?!"
"Yes. Though we shall seldom share one another's company, we are to be lovers again."
"We may not see one another often, but the times we will have will be so sweet, it will not matter!!" Legolas threw his arms around Aragorn's neck and kissed him passionately. Without breaking apart, he pulled the man towards his bed. Falling onto the bed in a heated tangle of limbs, Aragorn on top of Legolas, they couldn't get one another's clothes off quick enough. Aragorn struggled with the delicate buttons of Legolas' pale blue shirt, similarly, Legolas struggled with the ornate buckle on the belt around Aragorn's waist.
Their breath started coming in short, sharp pants as they groped and fondled and re-discovered everything about the other. Aragorn's hands revelled in the sensation as he ran them over Legolas' silky smooth, alabaster skin. It seemed softer to the touch than it had ever been, though seven and sixty years lay between them and their last encounter of this sort.
"By the Valar, I've missed this," Legolas groaned as Aragorn toyed with the sensitive point of his ear.
"You need never miss it again," Aragorn promised.
The only garment left to be removed was Legolas' trousers. Aragorn took it upon himself to remove these. As he did, he licked and nipped a sensual trail down over the Elf's chest and abdomen. Legolas' fingers curved like claws, raking the bed ecstatically, and his back arched as the man engulfed him and expertly worked him into a frenzy. The velvety, wet heat surrounding his achingly hard member drove him wild. It had been so long since he'd last experienced this, but Aragorn had evidently not forgotten a thing about how to work him up quickly and the most satisfactorily. The Elf had not lain with a single person since his relationship with Aragorn ended. For the past sixty-seven years, he'd had only his hands to keep his desires at bay.
To his dismay, Aragorn withdrew before he found his release. He let out a whimper of disappointment to enforce the loss. His own hand strayed to finish the job Aragorn had failed to complete, but the man slapped it away.
"I will not go unsated," Aragorn murmured huskily. Without another word, Legolas shot up and pinned him to the bed, reversing their positions. His eyelids fluttered with desire and he let out a low moan as he started to rub his slicked member against Aragorn's. The man growled his approval. Legolas kissed him hungrily, not ceasing rocking against him. Then he pulled away and suckled for a moment on two fingers.
"No, you won't," he replied. He pulled Aragorn's knees up and then gently, teasingly, ran one lubricated finger along the cleft. The man gasped and shivered with delight. When one finger entered his tight opening, he let out a low, guttural moan, deep in his throat, the same as the second entered. Legolas drank the vision of sex and love that writhed before his very eyes. The beautiful sight that had only filled his fantasies for so long. When Aragorn was fully prepared, he removed his fingers and positioned himself for this long awaited moment.
They both let out a cry as Legolas entered him. A string of Elvish blessings streamed from the Prince's mouth, but the King couldn't find the will to form words, so merely stuck to incoherent babble and groans of delight. When they had both adjusted to this new and yet old sensation, Legolas began to move within him.
With one arm, Legolas propped himself up and the other held Aragorn's waist. One of Aragorn's hands stayed on the Elf's firm rear, driving him as far inside him as he could go, the other went to the back of Legolas' head and pulled him into a bruising kiss.
"Aragorn," Legolas whispered, breathily, on the very brink of release, literally forcing his mouth to form the words he so desperately needed to say. "I… love… you…" His words were punctuated with thrusts to enforce the severity of them.
"Iknow… I… loveyou… too…" With that assurance, Legolas let go completely and came within the man he loved most, crying out loudly. Anyone passing the room would not need a vivid imagination to work out what was going on. Seconds later, Aragorn peaked also, quietly moaning the prince's name.
They lay gasping in one another's arms, sticky, sweaty, but thoroughly contented. Wishing they could remain that way forever, but knowing they could not, Legolas lay with his lover, still inside him, and savoured these few minutes of peace and tranquillity that would soon have to end.
"Legolas," Aragorn mumbled sleepily. "We should get up before we fall asleep."
"I know. But I don't want to."
"Neither do I, but we have to. I told no one where I was going, so they may think I've been kidnapped or something just as ridiculous." Legolas sighed.
"All right." He slid gently out of him and rolled onto his back. Aragorn leant over and kissed him tenderly.
"This is the start of something wonderful…"