AN: Well, we're actually getting somewhere with the plot. Thank you so
much, my ultimate reviewer QTpie-pippinsgurl!! Thank you so much for your
encouragement in your reviews! I also thank Wilwarin, Beatrice and Emma
Malfoy, because even though you didn't review as much as QTpie-pippinsgurl,
you still reviewed!
QTpie-pippinsgurl - More Pippin and cliffhanger-y goodness. Numnums.
Wilwarin - I know what you mean.
Beatrice - I would respond to your review properly, but I may give away some of the plot in the process. I don't want to spoil the fic for you but... *looks around and whispers* Aragorn and Legolas start to ge............... CAN'T TELL YOU! Oh look, an ant... sorry about that. Anyway... yeah. Sugar attacking brain...
Emma Malfoy - Thank you! See above. Can't give away plot.
Also, to all of you, I'd like to note that this is not a slashy-fic. Exactly. I mean, it's filled to the brim with pretend slash, but no real slash. See? Lookies at Aragorn and Legolas. Pretendness. I think. I mean, Legolas did look like he was getting pretty into the act, right? But... here I go, giving away the plot again. Point is, it's pretend. They aren't /really/ together - they're just protecting Aragorn. Anyway, onto the story!
"Legolas," Aragorn hissed, as he glanced from left, to right, to left, walking along the dimly lit dirt path, his hand placed firmly on the hilt of his sword. "Legolas, where are you?" It was very early in the morning, and all was dark. The sun had not yet awoken.
He could not hear a sound, but he felt the presence of the elf-prince behind him. He spun around quickly, beginning to draw the sword from its sheath, just in time to see Legolas recovering himself after a graceful leap from a nearby tree. He slowly released his grip upon mighty Anduril, and allowed it to slide back into place. He turned to continue walking, and beckoned for his comrade to follow him.
"A little stressed, aren't we, Aragorn?" The elf asked, quickly catching up and falling into step with the man. "What happened? Pippin didn't -"
The King shook his head slightly. "No, Pippin didn't tell Sam." He halted, completely unexpectedly, and looked around to see if there was any unfavourable company anywhere about. Legolas too immediately stopped. "I heard his voice."
Legolas cocked his head to one side curiously, rather accidentally creating the appearance of a young puppy. "Whose voice?" Silence filled the air. It was as though time had halted; not even the sounds of nocturnal insects buzzing and the like filled the air. "Aragorn?" The elf ventured. "What voice?"
Aragorn's response came, arduously. "It was Merry's voice, Legolas. I heard Merry speaking to me. He told me that Pippin would tell the world, and I would be found out. I'd lose the throne, be exiled from Gondor... if I was lucky. I'd be more likely to be executed. And if I turned myself in, I may at least be worthy of the... honourable execution." He gestured with one hand, drawing it slowly across his throat, miming the honourable execution - having ones head removed by ones own sword.
There was again silence. A heavy silence. Legolas could not think of what to do. "Aragorn," he finally queried gently, "are you sure it was an accident?"
The dim light seemed to grow darker. Aragorn turned to the elf, and, seemingly growing several feet in height, sneered intimidatingly in his face, slowly drawing the mighty sword Anduril. "No, Legolas. It was not an accident. Merry deserved all he got, and worse." Legolas shrunk back, as the sword came dangerously close to his perfectly sculpted face. "He deserved every drop of blood he lost, every single stab wound, every scrap of pain and suffering he went through. It was all justified, Legolas. He deserved it all." The sword fell several inches, in line with the elf's heart. The wielder of the deadly weapon seemed to calm down a little, as the angry tones softened into a somewhat mocking voice. "It's so good to finally get that off my chest. Thank you so much for listening." The point of the sword tore through the elven linen, cold steel pressing against Legolas' chest. "Of course, now that I've told you that, I have to kill you. You do understand, don't you, my love?" Harshness fell back into his tone as his sword pressed dangerously into the elf's flesh. The last two words were spoken with incredible amounts of sarcasm. It was perhaps somewhat unfortunate that they did not have the same effect as they would on, say, Arwen. After all, Legolas was not truly his love, and they both knew it. He was just trying to protect him.
Well, he didn't need the elf's feeble protection any longer. The only danger lay in that Pippin might spill the beans. But after the pathetic Hobbit saw what he was about to do to Legolas... well, he wouldn't dare breath a word about the perpetrator.
"Any last words?" He asked, again mocking the kindness he had once shown.
The words he wanted to say were caught in Legolas' throat. He didn't dare speak, not in such a terrifying situation. He could feel the sword pressing against his flesh, and dared not aggravate he who wielded such a weapon. Finally, he spoke. "All I have to say, Aragorn, is that if you do kill me... well, think of what you'll be losing."
In the very dim light, Legolas could see Aragorn merely sneer in response, putting a tiny bit more force on the sword, allowing the blade to cut, just a tiny amount, into his flesh. Playing a ghastly game with the poor victim. "What will I be losing? You'll run and tell if I let you go. No, it's a lot safer to just dispose of you. You do understand where I'm coming from, don't you, Legolas?"
Legolas' first impulse was to cry out as he felt the tip of the sword break through his skin. He wanted to cry out, to run, to confess all he knew. But he was deprived of these privileges. He forgot about his attempts to talk Aragorn out of it, the carefully planned lines lost amongst his fear. It was one thing to risk your life on the battlefield. It was another thing entirely to have a dear friend threaten your life. His head swimming from all the combined thoughts and fear, the poor elf-prince had nothing else to do but the first, ineffectual attempt to save his own life that popped into his head. Forcing himself to forget about the blade piercing his flesh, reminding himself that this distraction could save his life, he reached out, and pulled Aragorn closer to him. It took every scrap of his being to perform the feeble attempt at saving his life (and a lot of fancy work not to drive the sword deeper into himself), but he nonetheless went through with it.
The plan was, that by kissing Aragorn, he could distract him for long enough to force the sword out of his hands, and run for it.
Unfortunately, that wasn't quite what happened. He did kiss Aragorn, and it certainly caught the King off his guard. The problem arose when it was a little harder than Legolas expected to force the weapon out of his hands and run for it.
(AN: WARNING: This is a really slashy section. I would like to remind you however that this is an attempt to save his life, not the release of held- back lust or whatever you may be thinking.)
Their lips pressed together, quite unexpectedly, and it was only automatic reaction to act upon it. Legolas, for the obvious reasons, kept pushing for slightly more, hoping to distract Aragorn enough to force Anduril from his hands. It really didn't work, as although Aragorn was rather distracted by it, he held the sword firmly, and refused to slacken his grip even slightly.
Legolas was unsure of what to do. He had Aragorn in a position where he was distracted, at least for the next few seconds, until he realised exactly what was going on, but he was still tightly holding the sword. With only a micro-second of thought (and the knowledge that this act was smashing his dignity into a thousand pieces), he went for it.
The elf deftly slid his tongue into the man's mouth, taking him by complete surprise. It was a strange sensation, one that he very rarely experienced, and Aragorn had not quite realised exactly what was going on. He responded with full passion, and began to loosen his grip on the sword that was already piercing the elf.
This was what Legolas was waiting for. He grabbed hold of the hilt of the sword, and tried to pull it from the hands of its owner.
Unfortunately, all that happened was Aragorn woke up to himself, pulled away from Legolas in pure disgust and drove the sword, with full force, forward.
The elf-prince had not the strength to fight off the forceful blow, and fell backwards as Aragorn released the sword impaling the poor elf.
"That will teach you, won't it, Legolas?" Aragorn asked coldly, as he roughly removed his weapon from the elf, and stabbed him a second time, in the stomach. He continued stabbing the elf until the every last scrap of life was gone.
With that, he whirled away, to clean his sword, and get over the second terrible crime he had just committed.
QTpie-pippinsgurl - More Pippin and cliffhanger-y goodness. Numnums.
Wilwarin - I know what you mean.
Beatrice - I would respond to your review properly, but I may give away some of the plot in the process. I don't want to spoil the fic for you but... *looks around and whispers* Aragorn and Legolas start to ge............... CAN'T TELL YOU! Oh look, an ant... sorry about that. Anyway... yeah. Sugar attacking brain...
Emma Malfoy - Thank you! See above. Can't give away plot.
Also, to all of you, I'd like to note that this is not a slashy-fic. Exactly. I mean, it's filled to the brim with pretend slash, but no real slash. See? Lookies at Aragorn and Legolas. Pretendness. I think. I mean, Legolas did look like he was getting pretty into the act, right? But... here I go, giving away the plot again. Point is, it's pretend. They aren't /really/ together - they're just protecting Aragorn. Anyway, onto the story!
"Legolas," Aragorn hissed, as he glanced from left, to right, to left, walking along the dimly lit dirt path, his hand placed firmly on the hilt of his sword. "Legolas, where are you?" It was very early in the morning, and all was dark. The sun had not yet awoken.
He could not hear a sound, but he felt the presence of the elf-prince behind him. He spun around quickly, beginning to draw the sword from its sheath, just in time to see Legolas recovering himself after a graceful leap from a nearby tree. He slowly released his grip upon mighty Anduril, and allowed it to slide back into place. He turned to continue walking, and beckoned for his comrade to follow him.
"A little stressed, aren't we, Aragorn?" The elf asked, quickly catching up and falling into step with the man. "What happened? Pippin didn't -"
The King shook his head slightly. "No, Pippin didn't tell Sam." He halted, completely unexpectedly, and looked around to see if there was any unfavourable company anywhere about. Legolas too immediately stopped. "I heard his voice."
Legolas cocked his head to one side curiously, rather accidentally creating the appearance of a young puppy. "Whose voice?" Silence filled the air. It was as though time had halted; not even the sounds of nocturnal insects buzzing and the like filled the air. "Aragorn?" The elf ventured. "What voice?"
Aragorn's response came, arduously. "It was Merry's voice, Legolas. I heard Merry speaking to me. He told me that Pippin would tell the world, and I would be found out. I'd lose the throne, be exiled from Gondor... if I was lucky. I'd be more likely to be executed. And if I turned myself in, I may at least be worthy of the... honourable execution." He gestured with one hand, drawing it slowly across his throat, miming the honourable execution - having ones head removed by ones own sword.
There was again silence. A heavy silence. Legolas could not think of what to do. "Aragorn," he finally queried gently, "are you sure it was an accident?"
The dim light seemed to grow darker. Aragorn turned to the elf, and, seemingly growing several feet in height, sneered intimidatingly in his face, slowly drawing the mighty sword Anduril. "No, Legolas. It was not an accident. Merry deserved all he got, and worse." Legolas shrunk back, as the sword came dangerously close to his perfectly sculpted face. "He deserved every drop of blood he lost, every single stab wound, every scrap of pain and suffering he went through. It was all justified, Legolas. He deserved it all." The sword fell several inches, in line with the elf's heart. The wielder of the deadly weapon seemed to calm down a little, as the angry tones softened into a somewhat mocking voice. "It's so good to finally get that off my chest. Thank you so much for listening." The point of the sword tore through the elven linen, cold steel pressing against Legolas' chest. "Of course, now that I've told you that, I have to kill you. You do understand, don't you, my love?" Harshness fell back into his tone as his sword pressed dangerously into the elf's flesh. The last two words were spoken with incredible amounts of sarcasm. It was perhaps somewhat unfortunate that they did not have the same effect as they would on, say, Arwen. After all, Legolas was not truly his love, and they both knew it. He was just trying to protect him.
Well, he didn't need the elf's feeble protection any longer. The only danger lay in that Pippin might spill the beans. But after the pathetic Hobbit saw what he was about to do to Legolas... well, he wouldn't dare breath a word about the perpetrator.
"Any last words?" He asked, again mocking the kindness he had once shown.
The words he wanted to say were caught in Legolas' throat. He didn't dare speak, not in such a terrifying situation. He could feel the sword pressing against his flesh, and dared not aggravate he who wielded such a weapon. Finally, he spoke. "All I have to say, Aragorn, is that if you do kill me... well, think of what you'll be losing."
In the very dim light, Legolas could see Aragorn merely sneer in response, putting a tiny bit more force on the sword, allowing the blade to cut, just a tiny amount, into his flesh. Playing a ghastly game with the poor victim. "What will I be losing? You'll run and tell if I let you go. No, it's a lot safer to just dispose of you. You do understand where I'm coming from, don't you, Legolas?"
Legolas' first impulse was to cry out as he felt the tip of the sword break through his skin. He wanted to cry out, to run, to confess all he knew. But he was deprived of these privileges. He forgot about his attempts to talk Aragorn out of it, the carefully planned lines lost amongst his fear. It was one thing to risk your life on the battlefield. It was another thing entirely to have a dear friend threaten your life. His head swimming from all the combined thoughts and fear, the poor elf-prince had nothing else to do but the first, ineffectual attempt to save his own life that popped into his head. Forcing himself to forget about the blade piercing his flesh, reminding himself that this distraction could save his life, he reached out, and pulled Aragorn closer to him. It took every scrap of his being to perform the feeble attempt at saving his life (and a lot of fancy work not to drive the sword deeper into himself), but he nonetheless went through with it.
The plan was, that by kissing Aragorn, he could distract him for long enough to force the sword out of his hands, and run for it.
Unfortunately, that wasn't quite what happened. He did kiss Aragorn, and it certainly caught the King off his guard. The problem arose when it was a little harder than Legolas expected to force the weapon out of his hands and run for it.
(AN: WARNING: This is a really slashy section. I would like to remind you however that this is an attempt to save his life, not the release of held- back lust or whatever you may be thinking.)
Their lips pressed together, quite unexpectedly, and it was only automatic reaction to act upon it. Legolas, for the obvious reasons, kept pushing for slightly more, hoping to distract Aragorn enough to force Anduril from his hands. It really didn't work, as although Aragorn was rather distracted by it, he held the sword firmly, and refused to slacken his grip even slightly.
Legolas was unsure of what to do. He had Aragorn in a position where he was distracted, at least for the next few seconds, until he realised exactly what was going on, but he was still tightly holding the sword. With only a micro-second of thought (and the knowledge that this act was smashing his dignity into a thousand pieces), he went for it.
The elf deftly slid his tongue into the man's mouth, taking him by complete surprise. It was a strange sensation, one that he very rarely experienced, and Aragorn had not quite realised exactly what was going on. He responded with full passion, and began to loosen his grip on the sword that was already piercing the elf.
This was what Legolas was waiting for. He grabbed hold of the hilt of the sword, and tried to pull it from the hands of its owner.
Unfortunately, all that happened was Aragorn woke up to himself, pulled away from Legolas in pure disgust and drove the sword, with full force, forward.
The elf-prince had not the strength to fight off the forceful blow, and fell backwards as Aragorn released the sword impaling the poor elf.
"That will teach you, won't it, Legolas?" Aragorn asked coldly, as he roughly removed his weapon from the elf, and stabbed him a second time, in the stomach. He continued stabbing the elf until the every last scrap of life was gone.
With that, he whirled away, to clean his sword, and get over the second terrible crime he had just committed.