Hoping for Hope
A/N: Estel is Aragorn's elvish name. It means hope. This is a sequel to Denying the Truth, and for those who haven't read it: in it, an assassin killed Aragorn. Legolas mourned the loss of his lover. This is probably very odd if you haven't read the other one- so maybe if you haven't read the first one, could you? Same disclaimers as for all of my stories. Warning: Slash, A/L, yeah, yeah, yeah so cliché. I know.
~ Heaven knows its been high time I've been waiting on my own too long and when you hold me like you do it feels so right, I star to forget how my heart gets torn when the hurt gets thrown. Feeling like I can't go on turning circles when time again it cuts like a knife. Oh yeah.~
"Legolas. Sweet Prince," Estel murmured stroking my cheek affectionately. I found myself leaning into his hand as a cat would when its master strokes it.
"Estel, why did you never come back to me?" I asked.
"I had to return to the Evenstar like the dutiful husband I'm meant to be," he replied kissing my forehead.
"W-w-were you ashamed of me?" I stuttered with a loud sniff.
Estel's jade eyes were full of compassion and warmth. "How could I possible be ashamed of the most beautiful creature in the world?" Estel asked softly, making somehow my question sound ridiculous. I blushed at the compliment and felt my cheeks burn under his loving scrutiny.
"Did you tell her then?" I asked; my voice muffled as he had pulled me against his firm chest in a crushing embrace.
"Yes, Little Greenleaf," Estel said brushing my hair with his clumsy human hands that to me seemed like the touch of thistledown.
"Why didn't you tell her straight away?" I asked once more, shivering as his hands ran up and down my spine.
"I was scared," Estel replied. "Scared of what she would say, it would almost have been better if she had screamed and shouted at me. but she didn't. She just nodded and let me go. And I was worried that I wasn't worth to worship such an exquisite creature as you, with a lowly mortal's body."
I smiled in the depths of his hug and pulled out kissing the tip of his nose. "You aren't a lowly mortal. You're the King. And I'm the Prince."
Estel grinned widely and kissed me back, fully on the lips. His face cupped my rosy cheeks as our lips melded together. "I'm still not worthy of your love. I must seem like an ogre to you, Legolas. Running off without so much as a kiss goodbye."
"Tis not possible," I whispered wrapping my arms around my lover. "You are never less then a bug to me," I said with a smile.
Estel chuckled softly. "And you not more then a worm," he answered.
"Well then we are equal," I said slowly teasing the shirt off his shoulders..
Legolas woke up with a start, and stared into the darkness. Mirkwood was silent.
The bed next to him was empty. It was never occupied.
Estel wasn't in it. He was never in it. And never will.
A pearly tear slid down the side of the elf's face as he sobbed into the darkness, mourning for the love of his immortal life.
It would be, he thought miserably; better to die of grief, then face all the ages without Estel.
He was without hope. He was without his hope.
~ A/N: Sorry, another morbid one. That's my forte. You're not likely to get a happy-clappy-singy-songy-story from me. I'm not that kinda girl. Thank you to Nerys, my first reviewer.
A/N: Estel is Aragorn's elvish name. It means hope. This is a sequel to Denying the Truth, and for those who haven't read it: in it, an assassin killed Aragorn. Legolas mourned the loss of his lover. This is probably very odd if you haven't read the other one- so maybe if you haven't read the first one, could you? Same disclaimers as for all of my stories. Warning: Slash, A/L, yeah, yeah, yeah so cliché. I know.
~ Heaven knows its been high time I've been waiting on my own too long and when you hold me like you do it feels so right, I star to forget how my heart gets torn when the hurt gets thrown. Feeling like I can't go on turning circles when time again it cuts like a knife. Oh yeah.~
"Legolas. Sweet Prince," Estel murmured stroking my cheek affectionately. I found myself leaning into his hand as a cat would when its master strokes it.
"Estel, why did you never come back to me?" I asked.
"I had to return to the Evenstar like the dutiful husband I'm meant to be," he replied kissing my forehead.
"W-w-were you ashamed of me?" I stuttered with a loud sniff.
Estel's jade eyes were full of compassion and warmth. "How could I possible be ashamed of the most beautiful creature in the world?" Estel asked softly, making somehow my question sound ridiculous. I blushed at the compliment and felt my cheeks burn under his loving scrutiny.
"Did you tell her then?" I asked; my voice muffled as he had pulled me against his firm chest in a crushing embrace.
"Yes, Little Greenleaf," Estel said brushing my hair with his clumsy human hands that to me seemed like the touch of thistledown.
"Why didn't you tell her straight away?" I asked once more, shivering as his hands ran up and down my spine.
"I was scared," Estel replied. "Scared of what she would say, it would almost have been better if she had screamed and shouted at me. but she didn't. She just nodded and let me go. And I was worried that I wasn't worth to worship such an exquisite creature as you, with a lowly mortal's body."
I smiled in the depths of his hug and pulled out kissing the tip of his nose. "You aren't a lowly mortal. You're the King. And I'm the Prince."
Estel grinned widely and kissed me back, fully on the lips. His face cupped my rosy cheeks as our lips melded together. "I'm still not worthy of your love. I must seem like an ogre to you, Legolas. Running off without so much as a kiss goodbye."
"Tis not possible," I whispered wrapping my arms around my lover. "You are never less then a bug to me," I said with a smile.
Estel chuckled softly. "And you not more then a worm," he answered.
"Well then we are equal," I said slowly teasing the shirt off his shoulders..
Legolas woke up with a start, and stared into the darkness. Mirkwood was silent.
The bed next to him was empty. It was never occupied.
Estel wasn't in it. He was never in it. And never will.
A pearly tear slid down the side of the elf's face as he sobbed into the darkness, mourning for the love of his immortal life.
It would be, he thought miserably; better to die of grief, then face all the ages without Estel.
He was without hope. He was without his hope.
~ A/N: Sorry, another morbid one. That's my forte. You're not likely to get a happy-clappy-singy-songy-story from me. I'm not that kinda girl. Thank you to Nerys, my first reviewer.