Disclaimers: See the Author's Notes! Rated R for major angst, eventual attempted rape, and sexual innuendo. Takes place two months after the last chapter. Not my song; it belongs to Enya! This is an AU! Elvish is in ' '; Common is in " "; Legolas' thoughts are in . Lemon warning!

Amin Ai Olin
(My Little Secret)

Part 2. Utu- Lle
(To Find You)

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And who can say if your love grows,
As your heart chose?
Only time...
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Legolas scrubbed at the dishes that were piled up in the sink as fast as he could. Elleelen was outside playing with some of his friends, while his father worked. The once soft, flawless, and slender hands now had calluses and were currently bright red from the heat of the water being used to clean the dirty dishes. Legolas used a rag to remove the dirt and bits of food on them, before placing the dishes on the drying rack.

He was a diligent worker and trustworthy; that was why he had been trusted to keep the household in order while Lord Allen was away, along with his wife. The lord's son had not gone with his father; instead, he had chosen to stay with a friend for a few days, which relieved Legolas. He disliked the youth, but it was not his place to criticize.

The garments he currently wore were gray and faded, but suitable for cleaning in. A torn, gray cloak with a hood covered his hair and face. Legolas planned to change into his better clothes later, before his lord arrived home. He directed the other servants on what to do next; the floors had to be washed, the bedrooms aired out, the dinner prepared, and the furniture dusted. There was cause for the great hurry, for Lord Allen would be home soon, and his lady would need to rest after dinner, for she was pregnant with her second child.

So Legolas was somewhat distracted when a knock came on the door. He finished with the dishes and wiped his grubby hands clean, before he went over to the door and opened it. The instant he did he was horrified, and Legolas nearly slammed the door shut.

Elessar frowned when the door almost closed in his face. He had not gotten a good look at the servant, who was easily identified by his clothes. "Is Lord Allen at home?" he inquired. The lord was a good friend to him, and had extended an invitation to him for dinner this week.

"Sorry, my lord was called away on a family emergency," Legolas automatically answered.

Elessar narrowed his eyes; that voice was very familiar to him. "When will he be back?"

Legolas appropriately lowered his gaze as he murmured, "Later this evening. You are welcome to wait for him, sir, if you wish to." He was glad that Elessar had not gotten a good look at him yet, because that would have been really bad. So the blond Elf played at being demure, while silently praying to Elbereth that Elessar would go away and leave him alone.

"I shall wait for him," Elessar replied. He was pleased when the door opened all of the way, and stepped inside the house.

The house was made entirely out of natural wood; the walls and furniture matched. A few rugs covered some of the floors, though most were bare. Bookcases were all over the place, with several books on each, and a couple of tapestries were on the wall. A cheerful fire was lit in the main room, which is where Legolas led Elessar silently.

Elessar sat down wearily on the nearest chair. He barely noticed the wary expression on the face of the servant who stood there.

"Would you like some ale or wine, sir?" Legolas respectfully asked. As the head of the servants, it was his job to tend to guests when Lord Allen was not home.

Elessar frowned, and finally focused on the servant, who stood there with his face gazing down at the ground. "Ale would be fine," he murmured.

Legolas eagerly started to leave the room, before he heard a discreet cough. The blond Elf gritted his teeth, turned around, and bowed. Then he left the room, seething inside over how humiliating that had been.

He returned to the kitchen, walking silently through the hallways, and entered it from the opposite side. After washing his hands, which pained him slightly, Legolas took one of the good wine goblets and poured some ale into it, filling it to the brim.

"What should be served tonight?" the cook anxiously asked. A worried look was on her face.

"Lord Allen prefers meat; prepare the leftover steak and make certain that it is well done. As for vegetables, there are plenty of carrots, potatoes, and peas to cook. Place them in a pot and let them heat over the fire, but do not let them overcook, or it will be impossible to remove them for the water. Add some seasoning to them; maybe a touch of basil or cloves," Legolas told her calmly, before leaving the kitten to tend to their guest.

Once he had entered the main room, he carefully carried the goblet of ale over to Elessar and handed it to him quietly. The rest of the servants bustled around, dusting, scrubbing floors, and polishing.

"Can I get you anything else, sire?"

"You know me?" Elessar responded, an eyebrow raised slightly.

Legolas sighed and murmured, "Who would not know the King of Gondor?" Silently he adding, I could never forget you, Elessar. Not even if a millennia had gone by since we last met.

Elessar pressed, "Who are you? I don't recall having seen you here before."

"I am new here, and my name is my own business. You are not the one for whom I work; I am not obligated to tell you," Legolas swiftly replied.

"Show more respect when speaking to a King," Elessar warned, a hint of anger in his dark, stormy eyes.

Legolas bit back a sigh. No wonder Kasia had acted the way she had; Elessar had a tendency to be arrogant as well. Though he was capable of surprising gentleness, which had proved itself that night, so long ago. It was too bad that Elves had such perfect memories, Legolas mused. He was the only one of the two who remembered everything clearly, though even he had not realized what they had done that night. It had taken months for him to fully remember just what had happened…

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Flashback
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Legolas sat next to Elessar at a table, in an isolated tavern. The two friends had stopped to rest for the night, as they headed back to Gondor after working together to defeat some bandits, who persisted in raiding the innocent villagers of a nearby town.

Legolas had not noticed or cared how much he drank; he had been uncharacteristically silent the entire journey. Being like this with Elessar hurt him terribly, as he listened to the handsome Man, who spoke of his upcoming marriage. He himself had drank several bottles of wine, before the pain finally tapered off a bit in his heart.

Elessar had tried to figure out what was wrong with Legolas, but he could not. The Elf kept saying that he was fine, and had put quite a bit of expensive wine away. Elessar drank because of two reasons; he was frightened of his upcoming marriage, and because he felt regret for something, as he looked straight at the beautiful Elf sitting next to him. Both had drank nearly forty glasses of wine.

Legolas hiccupped and rested his head against Elessar, who sat next to him. 'You're my best friend,' he slurred.

'No, you're my best friend,' Elessar argued drunkenly. 'And you smell nice.'

Legolas shook his head, feeling a strange buzzing inside of it. He felt very strange, and hiccupped again. 'Do you see it? The room is spinning,' he informed Elessar.

Elessar stood and nearly fell over. Legolas then stood as well and helped Elessar, supporting him on his shoulder. It was probably a good thing that the room they had rented was just upstairs, for the two stumbled and nearly tripped over their own feet several times as they made their way upstairs.

Elessar felt weird as well, completely relaxed, as Legolas got them into the room, nearly falling as he did so. The drunk Man and Elf both fell onto the bed in the small room, with Elessar draped across Legolas. Both simultaneously moaned, before they looked at each other through glazed eyes.

Elessar stirred a little, and somehow wound up pinning Legolas to the bed. The Elf giggled slightly at his friend, forgetting his troubles. He felt deliciously light and easy, as if he had no troubles in the world.

Elessar let out a ragged groan as Legolas moved beneath him, arching slightly in his giggles. The Man hungrily pressed his lips to the Elf's in a drunken stupor. He couldn't think of a single reason of why this was wrong, as he savored the delicious kiss.

Legolas eagerly responded, prying his way into Elessar's mouth with his tongue. This seemed like a really good idea to him, and he wasn't thinking clearly. Both tasted of wine, spicy and potent. Hands ripped at clothes in desperation when the kisses grew deeper, and Elessar firmly ravaged the Elf's supple, moist mouth with his own tongue.

Their bare skin burned as it touched and garments were dropped to the floor, and the two explored each other greedily, as if they could not get enough of each other. Legolas and Elessar both hiccupped, not realizing that what they were doing would have lasting repercussions.

Legolas giggled again as Elessar began nibbling at his neck, and just lay there, enjoying the feel of the Man who was touching him in such delicious ways. Warm, coarse hands worked over the lithe, smooth Elven body.

Elessar made love slowly to the beautiful body beneath him. He did not recognize who the Elf was, or anything else, as he tenderly joined their bodies into one.

Indescribable pleasure was what they both felt at that moment…
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Legolas was jolted out of his slightly fuzzy memories by a hand that fiercely gripped his arm.

Elessar wondered if the servant was in some kind of shock, for he had asked a question, but had gotten no response. So he had stood and now held the servant by his shoulders, dwarfing the smaller figure easily.

Legolas then made the biggest mistake in his entire Immortal life. He glanced up, and the hood slipped. But he was still trying to control his emotions, after those bittersweet memories had come and gone again.

'Legolas?' Elessar breathed, incredulous. His grip tightened on the Elf, who instantly panicked.

Legolas immediately jerked free of the firm grip and bolted away. He might have made it outside, if he had not directly run into Lord Allen's son.

The twenty-year-old turned to sneer down at the servant, to say something cruel and nasty, until he got a good look at the golden-haired Elf. Raid had never seen the Elf without his hood on.

True, his clothes were disgraceful, but Legolas' body had never lost any of its beauty. Slender, graceful, and with ivory skin that shone like moonlight. Slightly curved hips, and wide, azure eyes, along with strands of hair that shone like pure gold. His face was still beautiful, even with the strange expression in his eyes.

Legolas froze when his forearm was grabbed by the youth, which Raid was, compared to the former Prince's age.

"Pretty… Well, almost pretty," Raid said thoughtfully. He firmly gripped Legolas' chin and lifted it slightly, tilting his face up to inspect it. "Decent clothes and a bath would make you flawless," he smirked, lust shining in his nearly black eyes. "Perhaps I should make you my personal servant from now on."

Legolas wrenched his arm loose. "You are not my master."

Raid narrowed his eyes at the impudence of the lowly servant, Elf or not. "I am the son of your master," he said deliberately. "You must obey me. In all matters."

"I have no master," Legolas countered, not seeing that Elessar had come up behind him. "And I may be your father's servant, but for your information, feudalism is dead. I have the right to say no to you."

Elessar darkly scowled as he realized what was going on. "Legolas has a point, Raid. I have outlawed slavery in Gondor." Though he wondered why, in the name of Elbereth, that Legolas had become a servant?

Elessar carefully inspected his best friend, who looked all right physically, except for that strange, haunted look that still existed in his eyes. The gray clothes he wore, however, were a disgrace. Especially since the King of Gondor's own clothes were made of silk and satin, along with velvet.

All were pulled out of their thoughts and glaring match as a boy ran into the house crying, "Daddy! Lord Allen's entered the town!"

Legolas stepped away from Raid and caught his son up in a hug. "All right, Elleelen. But you know you're not to come inside without permission." But he took a few moments to hold his precious son tightly.

Elessar's mouth dropped open slightly at the golden-haired boy in Legolas' arms. The child was nearly the spitting image of his father, except for his ears and grey eyes. The Man gaped at the noticeable tender affection between father and son.

Raid scowled and snapped, "What is that brat doing in here?"

"He's not a brat," Elessar instantly countered. "He's just a boy."

"Come, Elleelen. Keep me company while I change," Legolas murmured. He set the boy on the floor, and led him back to the servants' quarters by the hand.

Elessar silently followed, wanting to speak with Legolas more.

"Unless you want to visit the servants' quarters, you'd better wait for him to change, your majesty," Raid said slyly.

"How long has he worked here for?" Elessar inquired, as he paused briefly.

Raid thought for a few moments. "He worked at my father's summer house near Rohan for a few years, before he was brought up here."

Elessar tucked the information away for future reference. The circumstances didn't matter; he was not going to allow an Elven Prince to be treated like a servant, and worse. Especially not when the Prince was his best friend.

So he went after the Elf, intending to speak seriously with him. The few other servants glanced at him curiously when he asked where Legolas had gone, but they pointed him towards the back of the servant quarters.

Legolas had sent Elleelen back outside, so he now stood in the small bathing room alone. He had already removed his shirt and tunic, and was quickly sponging off the dirt on him, pausing briefly to run a few fingers up the thin scar that still remained from Elleelen's birthing, before he continued, wiping his face and arms clean.

Elessar entered as Legolas pulled his patched-up green shirt over his head and down, covering the scar. The Man narrowed his grey eyes and cleared his throat.

Legolas had known that Elessar had entered the room. So he ignored his friend until he had the shirt all the way on. 'What is it, Elessar?' Legolas questioned, slipping into Elvish, as he unceremoniously removed his pathetic leggings and replaced them with frayed brown ones. No tunic went over the shirt, and Legolas began using his fingers to straighten his hair.

'Come on, Legolas. I don't care how or why this happened, but I am not going to watch you just slave away, picking up after other people,' Elessar snapped.

'It's honest work,' Legolas retorted.

Elessar countered, 'You are an Elven Prince, Legolas! You cannot be a servant!'

'I see,' Legolas mused. 'Apparently, my esteemed father did not see fit to inform you that I am no longer his son.' His voice was bitter, bordering on sarcasm.

'What? Why?' Elessar asked, confused. Why would Thranduil disown Legolas? It didn't make any sense to him at all.

Legolas sighed deeply and continued messing with his hair. 'Because of my son. I was not wed when he was born; nor am I wed now.'

Elessar frowned. 'Why didn't you marry his mother before she gave birth?'

'Because I am the one who one who gave birth to Elleelen, Elessar.' Legolas spoke quietly, as he slipped on his soft sandals. 'Elleelen is the only thing in the world that I can honestly call my greatest accomplishment.'

'An Elven male cannot have a child,' Elessar scoffed.

'You are forgetting what Lord Elrond taught you,' Legolas told his former best friend. 'A Silvan male Elf can- and I did.'

Elessar shook his head, getting his mind back to one point. 'You and Elleelen are coming back to Gondor Castle with me, so we can talk about this rationally.'

Legolas' cobalt eyes narrowed. 'I cannot; I must work for my living,' he argued. 'I have a decent job and-'

'-and nothing. Don't make me order you to come to Gondor,' Elessar growled.

'You are not my king and cannot order me around,' Legolas reminded Elessar coldly. 'I do not need you to always run to my rescue. I am the one who made this mess, and I must pay the price.'

Elessar's hands went to his hips, resting on the soft, black breeches that he wore, made of something very like velvet. His own dark green shirt, made of silk, and his matching cloak contrasted with the grey tunic he wore. He scowled down at his best friend.

Legolas stood in the exact same position, in his sorry, patched brown leggings and faded green shirt, glaring at Elessar.

To be continued