He sat in the summerlight, amidst the sweet flower-bloom and the kiss of perfume in the sun-warmed wind, but he could only feel darkness. Darkness and pain. His parents had been ashamed and fierce for his actions, and his father came nigh to casting him from their family. Yet his mother had loved him still; despite all of his actions, he was the only one of her children who had survived past her womb, and would be her last. His dark brown strands of hair fell across his tan face, obscuring his already blurring vision.
"Thoron?"
He felt as if a dagger had struck his heart at the sound of that innocent, sad voice, so torn with confusion and pain.
"Thoron?"
Legolas came running, his golden hair tangled and blowing in the wind, his deep, endless blue eyes brimming with tears in his marble face. He was lost and muddled, so scared…
"Why are you leaving, Thoron?" he pleaded, sitting beside him. "You are the greatest friend that I have ever had. You saved my life!"
Indeed, a scar marred his clear skin, protruding angrily from his chest. It was hidden by a soft, silken shirt of cream-blue, but it was there. Across his heart.
"You have done no harm, Thoron," Legolas insisted. "Father is a fool. He is wrong. You belong here, with me. Why are you to be exiled?"
Thoron's heart ached as he stared at his friend with emerald green eyes, swirling with torment, despair, and longing. "I was…I was bad, Legolas," he whispered. "I did a very bad thing. I don't deserve…deserve to stay."
Crystal tears rolled down the prince's cheeks. Thoron longed to wipe them away with a gentle hand, but his own eyes were pricked with sorrow. "Do not leave," he begged softly. "You are different from the others, special! I would die for you, my friend! You treat me with something unlike the others. You see that I am a person, not a prince! You like me for who I am."
'If only you knew,' Thoron thought to himself. 'If only you knew, my beautiful one.'
His perfect body trembled with pain, and, unable to resist any longer, Thoron pulled Legolas to his chest, rocking him and breathing his scent of flowers, trees, and kindness. He longed to do more, but feared to be seen.
"Believe me," he rasped. "You don't want me here. I taught you…I showed you something that I shouldn't. If I stay, no one will ever love you again, my prince. You will be cold and lonely forever."
"No, I won't. I'll have you."
He was so close, so near. He was so frozen, so dead inside. He felt Legolas against his body, felt his blood rushing against him. It was only the two of them, hidden near the stream. Just two elflings, wishing each other goodbye.
"You don't know what I am, Legolas," Thoron said hurriedly, lest he lose his will. "You cannot—I cannot—"
He couldn't finish. He melted, the cold within him yearning for the warmth with all of his being.
Gently, he brought his friend closer, gazing into his innocent blue eyes. 'Valar forgive me.'
Thoron leaned forward, drowning in sky, as he pressed his lips to the other's full mouth, tasting sunlight, starlight, and moonlight, dawn, and sunrise, and darkness. Legolas relaxed, falling into his arms, snuggling closer like a newborn.
The prince felt so free, and yet so helpless, so weak in his friend's arms, so strange and beautiful. It was all alien and flawless, unlike anything he would ever feel again. He felt…love. Its essence was kindled within his veins.
Strong hands slipped under his shirt, stroking his smooth flesh, shaking with passion. He shivered, returning his kiss. Thoron pulled away, though the other came nearer, his eyes alight with rapture. "Please," he whispered, breathless. Why would his parents keep this elation from him?
'You won't remember any of this, love. I'm sorry.'
He removed an arrowhead from his pocket, dipped in potion, and embedded it into Legolas's arm. As rich blood streamed from his skin, lighting his veins afire and burning his memories, he gasped and collapsed, feeling only one word.
Thoron.
"Why…?" he whispered, his breath escaping his lungs in a final hiss.
It had been so perfect…
He started to sob as he watched the prince crumple to the earth, wracked with desire and pain. He was so Valar-blessed beautiful, so lost and naïve.
He should have stabbed himself with the magic as well, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. He didn't want to forget. Slipping it into his pocket, he felt its rough surface, wet and warm with blood. His love's blood.
And if he had told, he would have accepted him all along.
Clenching his eyelids shut in pain, he stumbled from the garden, sobbing as tears like flame burned his face. But all that he could see inside his head was Legolas, sinking to the earth, loving him.
And all he could taste was starlight.
"Thoron?"
He felt as if a dagger had struck his heart at the sound of that innocent, sad voice, so torn with confusion and pain.
"Thoron?"
Legolas came running, his golden hair tangled and blowing in the wind, his deep, endless blue eyes brimming with tears in his marble face. He was lost and muddled, so scared…
"Why are you leaving, Thoron?" he pleaded, sitting beside him. "You are the greatest friend that I have ever had. You saved my life!"
Indeed, a scar marred his clear skin, protruding angrily from his chest. It was hidden by a soft, silken shirt of cream-blue, but it was there. Across his heart.
"You have done no harm, Thoron," Legolas insisted. "Father is a fool. He is wrong. You belong here, with me. Why are you to be exiled?"
Thoron's heart ached as he stared at his friend with emerald green eyes, swirling with torment, despair, and longing. "I was…I was bad, Legolas," he whispered. "I did a very bad thing. I don't deserve…deserve to stay."
Crystal tears rolled down the prince's cheeks. Thoron longed to wipe them away with a gentle hand, but his own eyes were pricked with sorrow. "Do not leave," he begged softly. "You are different from the others, special! I would die for you, my friend! You treat me with something unlike the others. You see that I am a person, not a prince! You like me for who I am."
'If only you knew,' Thoron thought to himself. 'If only you knew, my beautiful one.'
His perfect body trembled with pain, and, unable to resist any longer, Thoron pulled Legolas to his chest, rocking him and breathing his scent of flowers, trees, and kindness. He longed to do more, but feared to be seen.
"Believe me," he rasped. "You don't want me here. I taught you…I showed you something that I shouldn't. If I stay, no one will ever love you again, my prince. You will be cold and lonely forever."
"No, I won't. I'll have you."
He was so close, so near. He was so frozen, so dead inside. He felt Legolas against his body, felt his blood rushing against him. It was only the two of them, hidden near the stream. Just two elflings, wishing each other goodbye.
"You don't know what I am, Legolas," Thoron said hurriedly, lest he lose his will. "You cannot—I cannot—"
He couldn't finish. He melted, the cold within him yearning for the warmth with all of his being.
Gently, he brought his friend closer, gazing into his innocent blue eyes. 'Valar forgive me.'
Thoron leaned forward, drowning in sky, as he pressed his lips to the other's full mouth, tasting sunlight, starlight, and moonlight, dawn, and sunrise, and darkness. Legolas relaxed, falling into his arms, snuggling closer like a newborn.
The prince felt so free, and yet so helpless, so weak in his friend's arms, so strange and beautiful. It was all alien and flawless, unlike anything he would ever feel again. He felt…love. Its essence was kindled within his veins.
Strong hands slipped under his shirt, stroking his smooth flesh, shaking with passion. He shivered, returning his kiss. Thoron pulled away, though the other came nearer, his eyes alight with rapture. "Please," he whispered, breathless. Why would his parents keep this elation from him?
'You won't remember any of this, love. I'm sorry.'
He removed an arrowhead from his pocket, dipped in potion, and embedded it into Legolas's arm. As rich blood streamed from his skin, lighting his veins afire and burning his memories, he gasped and collapsed, feeling only one word.
Thoron.
"Why…?" he whispered, his breath escaping his lungs in a final hiss.
It had been so perfect…
He started to sob as he watched the prince crumple to the earth, wracked with desire and pain. He was so Valar-blessed beautiful, so lost and naïve.
He should have stabbed himself with the magic as well, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. He didn't want to forget. Slipping it into his pocket, he felt its rough surface, wet and warm with blood. His love's blood.
And if he had told, he would have accepted him all along.
Clenching his eyelids shut in pain, he stumbled from the garden, sobbing as tears like flame burned his face. But all that he could see inside his head was Legolas, sinking to the earth, loving him.
And all he could taste was starlight.