Disclaimers: See the Author's Notes! Not my song; it belongs to Enya! Elvish is in ' '; Common is in " "; Aragorn and Legolas' thoughts are in .This is an AU! Rated R for major angst, attempted rape, and sexual innuendo. Takes place three mornings after the last chapter. Gets a bit lemony!!

Amin Ai Olin
(My Little Secret)

Part 8. Irm- Ar' Mily-

(To Desire And To Long For) 

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And who can say where the road goes,
Where the day flows?
Only time...
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Elessar opened his eyes… and froze. Legolas was nowhere to be seen, not in this room- his room. The King frowned, and shook his head, before he pushed the covers back and sat up. He stood, walked over to his dresser, and grabbed some clean clothes. Nothing fancy; just black breeches with a blue shirt, and Elessar swiftly discarded his nightclothes, before dressing. He then left his room to search for Legolas.

Legolas had been confined to a bed after they had arrived in Gondor, for he had looked very ill indeed. The Elf had slept for a day, and had tried to sneak out of the bed to see Elleelen, only to be thwarted by Elessar. That hadn't stopped him from trying other times, so Elessar had finally brought Legolas to his room, where the King had tied him hand and foot.

Now how had that Elf escaped, Elessar wondered, as he began searching through the hallways.

Legolas felt much better this morning, as he made his way through the castle, ignoring the strange looks the servants were giving him. Part of the looks were because he was an Elf, and the little princess had been the closest thing to an Elf in the palace for nearly nine years. The second reason Legolas was being stared at was because of the blood that stained both his pitiful shirt and leggings, as well as his blond hair.

Legolas was looking for Elleelen, to make certain that his son was all right.

Elessar had sent him off with Kasia, until Legolas was able to sit up without turning pale or worse- passing out. Kasia's nanny was taking care of both children, as Elessar had instructed. He'd been too worried to leave Legolas' side, fearing the worst. Though Legolas' attempted escapades had proven that he would be all right.

Elessar was not surprised when he saw dirty footprints heading towards the childrens' room. He'd thought that it would be a good way for Kasia and Elleelen to get to know- and like- each other, for the two to share a room. Though Elleelen had been surprisingly insistent on seeing his father.

Elessar had not wanted his son to see Legolas' hands and feet tied together, so he had told Elleelen that Legolas was still ill, but that as soon as he was better, his father would come see him.

Actually, Elessar silently amended, Legolas would first take a bath and get some decent clothes on. He began walking faster, to catch Legolas before he found the children.

Legolas heard Elessar approaching him, but ignored it. He was not doing anything until he saw his son and made sure that he was all right. For all Legolas knew, Elessar might have already told Elleelen that he was his sire.

'Legolas, stop,' Elessar firmly said, when he finally caught sight of the runaway Elf.

Legolas ignored the order and kept walking. He was not a pet to come and go at beck and call of a master.

Elessar narrowed his grey eyes and finally managed to catch up to Legolas, and he took a fierce grip on one of the slender arms, forcing Legolas to stop. 'Where are you going?' he demanded.

'Wherever I want,' Legolas replied coldly. 'And right now, I want to see my son.' He yanked his arm free… only to have his shoulders grabbed hard.

'First, you will take a bath and change,' Elessar informed Legolas, ignoring the desire that swept through him to kiss the Elf senseless.

Legolas smiled bitterly. 'Oh yes, Elessar. Dress me up as you see me- like a whore,' he sarcastically said. 'Am I your toy now? Do I get to wear a pretty dress?' His mocking taunts had the desired effect.

Elessar was stunned by the amount of anger in Legolas' voice, but he resented what the Elf was implying. 'No… But unless you want to scare my son, you ought to clean the blood off of you and change,' he retorted. Though Elessar did not remain as untouched by the accusation as he pretended.

Legolas frowned, before he took a good look at his clothes, and he conceded Elessar's point. 'Fine, but I need my bag, to get a change of clothes.'

'Legolas…' Elessar said sternly. 'You are not wearing your servant clothes. I have already told the royal tailor to make you some new ones.'

'I don't need new clothes, and I made my clothes myself,' Legolas snapped. 'I'll wear what I want, Elessar.' He seethed when Elessar merely raised a dark eyebrow at him pointedly.

Instead of giving in, Legolas harshly questioned, 'Is that what you do to Kasia- or any who dare to defy you? Do you blackmail them into giving in to your demands?'

That stung, and Elessar felt it within his soul. His pride, however, would not let him admit that Legolas was right. He would rather that Legolas stay here out of his own free will, but Elessar was not going to risk losing him again.

'Legolas, stop this,' Elessar told the beautiful Elf grimly. A warning flashed in his eyes, though it pained his heart when Legolas reluctantly bowed his head in acquiesce. It brought Elessar no pleasure to see the look of defeat in the cobalt eyes, which had, a few moments ago, been blazing with anger. 'Follow me.' It was a statement; an order, as Elessar turned and began walking towards his room, to take Legolas to his private bathing room.

Legolas silently followed Elessar, glad that at least he hadn't been touched- yet. Though he knew to well that that was not going to last; Elessar desired him, after all. And his body would let Elessar do anything he wanted. It was one of his two weaknesses- and a curse. Elleelen was his second weakness. Legolas would not be able to stand being separated from Elleelen.

Elessar said nothing, leading Legolas back inside his room. The suspicious Elf watched as Elessar took some clothes off of the back of a wooden chair, where they had been hanging.

He was escorted into the private bathing room, where a single, large, wooden tub sat in the middle of it. Some potted plants were in the room, a few ferns and a small tree. Legolas looked at Elessar wordlessly when the Man cleared his throat.

'Bathe, Legolas,' Elessar curtly told the Elf, who narrowed his eyes.

Legolas' defiance returned as he muttered, 'I will not bathe in front of you.' He crossed his arms and glared at Elessar.

Elessar questioned, 'Are you afraid, little Elf?'

'Little Elf?' Legolas repeated, anger bringing a red flush to his face. 'I am not a little Elf!' He stormed towards the door, halting only when Elessar said his name, slowly and deliberately.

'Walk out of here, Legolas…and lose Elleelen,' Elessar warned the Elf icily.

Legolas had almost forgotten… He choked back his anger and pain, fighting back an urge to weep. It was a strange urge, which he had never felt before. Then again, Elessar had never done this to him before. It felt like something had been plunged directly into his heart; a sharp dagger or knife.

The Elf deliberately turned his back to Elessar, feeling shame, anger, and betrayal. After fetching a few buckets of warm water and filling the tub with it, Legolas slowly began removing his stained clothes, refusing to acknowledge the Man who watched him, as he rested on a small, carved stone bench.

Elessar's grey eyes feasted upon the perfect, ivory Elven body, as Legolas stepped into the tub and quickly began cleaning his flesh, intending to take no longer than necessary. His body looked even more pale once rinsed and freed of the dirt and grime, and Legolas began scrubbing his hair, using the shampoo in the nearby jar.

Elessar caught his breath, hungrily staring at Legolas, who was seemingly indifferent to the unwavering gaze. So beautiful… so tempting… Elessar was getting aroused, in spite of his irritation at how Legolas kept challenging him. It appeared that his sort-of friend was not going to give in as easily as he had thought, Elessar mused.

After Legolas rinsed his hair, he climbed out and began looking around for a cloth to dry himself with. Elessar's gaze shifted from the breath-taking sight of Legolas' bare body to the white cloth draped over the bench he sat on. He silently tossed it to Legolas, who caught it easily.

The Elf hastily dried himself, seeing the look in Elessar's eyes. The King wanted him, Legolas knew, and he was apprehensive about it, as Elessar stood and walked over towards him.

Legolas covered himself instantly with the cloth, and could not suppress his reaction when Elessar slowly brought his right hand up to his face and touched it, before he traced the flawless features. The Elf felt, rather than saw, an arm encircle his waist, pulling him towards the Man. He kept his grip on the cloth around his waist.

Drips of water fell from the golden radiance of Legolas' hair, as he was kissed roughly. Fire sizzled in his veins, making him moan, and hate himself for responding, even as he loved the coarse hand that now roamed across his chest. His body took a life of its own, as he urgently pressed his lips against Elessar's, craving contact.

The world shifted slightly, when Legolas suddenly found himself in Elessar's arms, being carried towards the bedroom. Soaring heat fueled his actions, as he twisted in the arms, wanting Elessar to touch him again… Whimpering in place of begging…

Elessar showed no emotion, after he laid the still wet Elf out on his bed, before covering the mostly bare body with his own. His shirt was quickly thrown aside, and he crushed the sweet lips of the one under him. His hands went to work; on stroking the Elf, and the other possessively roaming over the smooth, soft skin.

Legolas groaned in pleasure, unable to bring himself to physically stop reacting to the wonders that Elessar did. This had never been a problem; not then, and not now. It was easy to forget for a while the arguments and other such things, though Legolas was still angry with Elessar.

Elessar could see the anger and self-loathing in Legolas' sapphire eyes as he responded to him, and the King inwardly winced. Legolas arched slightly at a particularly hard stroke and whimpered again, craving more yet helpless to resist the sensations running through him.

With surprising tenderness, Elessar brought their bodies together, his breeches quickly going the way of his shirt, joining it on the floor. Legolas' cries of pleasure held a faint hint of pain, causing Elessar to feel a flash of self-loathing himself.

When both were able to breathe normally again, Legolas desperately struggled to get away from Elessar. He'd been humiliated enough.

Elessar questioned, 'What's wrong?' He was not prepared for the answer that he was given.

'I don't want you to do this to me,' Legolas said, his struggles continuing, even as two arms encircled him from behind, as he lay on his side, away from Elessar.

'Why? I know you enjoyed yourself,' Elessar said, bringing a hand up to fondle a pointed ear. Legolas jerked away again, and Elessar held him tighter.

The Elven beauty could feel himself getting aroused again, and he did not want it. 'You may have my body, Elessar, but my mind is my own. I want to see my son,' Legolas icily stated. 'Let me go!' He silently yelled at himself for even forgetting Elleelen for an instant.

Elessar finally released the Elf, who hastily backed away from the King, fleeing into the bathroom. Legolas' eyes darted around wildly, searching for the clothes that Elessar had brought in before his bath. Spotting them, Legolas darted over and quickly dressed in the soft, white shirt and black leggings.

Elessar had replaced his own breeches and held his shirt, as he impassively looked at the Elf, who refused to look at him. 'Do you still wish to see Elleelen now?' he asked.

'More than anything,' Legolas honestly answered. He felt better now that he was actually dressed and that Elessar was no longer standing near him, tempting him…

'Then follow me,' Elessar said. 'I will take you to him. We will tell them both the truth, and then you will tell me the rest of what happened to you.'

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Kasia's Room

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Elleelen and Kasia were playing with her carved, wooden figures. The two were getting along ok, though Elleelen was really worried about his father, and really mad that he hadn't been allowed to see him yet.

Kasia only knew that Legolas had been hurt. She felt a little sorry for Elleelen, because she knew that if it was her father who had been hurt, she would be upset too. Her wooden, carved horse bobbed along the road, guided by her hand.

Elleelen was making his carved animal fly. He did like playing with Kasia, but he was still fretting over his daddy.

The nanny kept an eye on the two children. She had given Elleelen a bath and some fresh, clean clothes, per her king's instructions. She was gentle and caring, and saddened that she would not be able to watch over the two children much longer, for she was returning home to her village soon.

Kasia heard Elleelen sigh and looked at him. "My father will make certain that your father is ok," she said, trying to reassure him. "When he's better, Daddy will bring him to you."

"I want my daddy now," Elleelen replied. "I've never been away from him before, and I don't like it. We've never been apart…"

"You're lucky," Kasia told him wistfully. "My daddy is gone a lot, to help people. It's his job, being the King." She resented that somewhat, because she missed her father when he was gone. Elleelen didn't know how lucky he was to have a father around all the time, she thought enviously.

Elleelen slowly nodded. "Daddy worked a lot, but I got to see him every day." He scowled. "At least- I did," he corrected.

The sounds of the door to the room opening drew their attention.

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Mirkwood

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Thranduil sat alone, bitterly reflecting on his memories. It was on this day ten years ago that he had banished his son from his life.

The Elven sighed, for he missed Legolas terribly, and the pain only grew worse every year that went by, with no contact from him. Though Thranduil was not truly surprised about the limited contact; he had been much too harsh on his son, and he knew it.

Thranduil was forced to rely on outside sources to keep in touch with how Legolas was faring, for he was afraid that if he tried to approach his youngest child, Legolas would run away and never be seen again.

And the King of Mirkwood wondered just what his grandchild looked like; he only knew that Legolas had a son.

But he feared he would never know, because of a mistake he had made so long ago.

To be continued