***Aragorn's POV***
Soft grey eyes gaze up at me and sweat shines on a delicate brow. Golden hair fans out around a gentle face and I lean forward, pressing a rough kiss onto already passion-bruised lips. My hips thrust forward fast and hard and the beautiful mouth gasps against mine. I continue to thrust into tight heat until the lithe body convulses around and I feel a wet stickiness between us. Moments later I empty myself into the heated body and scream out a name.
"Legolas!" I jerk upright in bed, sweat dripping into my eyes. With growing shame, I feel the stickiness of my dream-release on my stomach. With a groan I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. The floor is cold under my bare feet and I quickly throw on a pair of breeches and a loose tunic, not bothering to lace it up. It is late and most of Imladris should be quiet and deserted. I stealthily make my way down the hall to one of the bathing rooms and lock the door behind me. Within minutes I have a tub full of hot water and I slip out of my clothes and into the welcoming liquid.
My head rests against the edge of the tub and I close my eyes. I haven't dreamt of Legolas in years and tonight's dream has me rattled. I love Arwen, I really do. I would feel absolutely lost without her and my heart breaks knowing that I may never be able to call her my wife. So why the dream about Legolas? I should be happy and content being here once again with my betrothed. I should not even be *thinking* about anyone else that way, let alone dreaming and fantasizing.
I sigh then duck under the water, wetting my hair. When I emerge I run a hand over my face, clearing away the water that clings to my lashes and eyebrows. I open my eyes to see Legolas standing silently in the corner. His presence surprises me but I try not to show it. "What are you doing here?" I do a fairly admirable job of sounding distant and uninterested.
"I came to talk to you." His voice is not how I remembered it. Back when we were lovers it was soft and gentle. Sweet. Now it has a hard edge to it. An edge that cuts to the bone.
My eyes rake over him and I realize that he is dressed in his traveling clothes with his baldric strapped onto his shoulders. Odd. "You came to me in the middle of the night to talk? How did you even get in here? The door is locked."
He looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Yes, the door is locked but the window is open." I reflexively glance at the window, confused. "Aragorn, I am an Elf. The fact that we are several stories up is no problem for me. I saw you leave your room and I followed you here. When I found the door locked I simply came in through the window."
I try to save face by nodding. "What did you want to talk to me about?" Again I try to keep my voice neutral. He doesn't answer but stands there, staring at me. Suddenly I feel very afraid. I grew up with Elves and I tend to forget that they are truly volatile creatures when provoked. Though I don't know the reason, Legolas is apparently extremely upset. His grey eyes bore into me, fixing me to the spot. He stands perfectly straight and perfectly still; like he's stalking some sort of prey animal. Me. Shivers run down my spine.
Finally he speaks. "What do I want to talk about? Hmm. Let's see. Why don't we talk about how you left me." He moves forward a few steps and the moonlight hits him, casting an unearthly silver glow about him.
"No Legolas." I am determined not to open this particular topic. "I had my reasons and I will not discuss them." I keep my voice hard, letting him know I will not bend.
I was wrong. Anything will bend under the right circumstances. Faster than my eye can follow, Legolas reaches behind his shoulder and draws one of his white knives. He holds it out and approaches. "We *will* discuss the reasons, Aragorn." The tip of the knife presses into my throat and I swallow nervously.
I never would have thought him capable of this but as I look into his eyes I see that this is not the same gentle Elf I used to love. There is a mad glint in Legolas' eyes and I know that this new Elf is crazy. I nod just the slightest bit. "All right. I'll discuss this with you if you'll please just put the knife down."
He smirks and twists the knife slowly. "You are hardly in a position to be making demands, Estel." The way he says my name leaves no doubt that he meant it as an insult. "Now, I wish to hear why you left me the way you did. Why you *used* me the way you did." He settles himself on the edge of the tub, leaving the knife pointed at my throat.
"I never used you Legolas!" My protest is cut short when the icy tip of the knife presses harder into my skin. "I swear, Legolas, I never meant to hurt you. When I first met you I was entranced by your beauty and I sought your friendship. It didn't take long before you had me completely under your spell..."
His hard, cold voice interrupts me again. "So now it's my fault? I bewitched you, leaving you no choice but to hurt me?!"
"No! That's not what I meant. Elbereth, Legolas, how can I tell you how you affected me. I admit, I was selfish, bedding you when I knew I couldn't hold you for the rest of my life no matter how much I wanted to." I hear a disbelieving snort and continue. "I did, Legolas. I wanted to hold you until the day I died but I knew I couldn't. I knew, but I ignored it for a selfish time of pleasure."
"And how is that not using me? Please explain."
"Because I loved you!" I am afraid to move and I hope my eyes can convey how sincerely I mean what I say.
The Elf sits calmly for many long moments before his cold, quiet voice drifts to my ears. "And now?"
I lower my eyes. "No, Legolas. Not anymore. Love is like this water; hot at first but the longer you sit the more it cools unless you do something to refresh it. I loved you when I left you and I left because I was afraid. I knew I'd made a mistake and I didn't know how to correct it so I fled. Stars, Legolas! I was only twenty-two! Still a child even by the standards of Men! I'll admit, I was acting selfishly, not thinking about the pain it would cause you, but I never hurt you intentionally."
The knife vibrates and I raise my eyes to the Elf. He is trembling and his eyes no longer hold that mad gleam. Instead they are dark and dull. I think I fear that more than the craziness. "I... I..." His voice quavers then he releases the blade which splashes into the tub and sinks to the bottom. For a moment he doesn't move but finally he rises slowly to his feet and moves silently to the door, never giving me another glance. He stands before the locked door and leans his head against it, as if he needs it to hold him upright.
I open my mouth to speak, to call him back, but he pushes back from the door then opens it and passes out into the corridor like a shadow. Oh fuck. I think I just broke him.
********
so. more? *evil grin*
Soft grey eyes gaze up at me and sweat shines on a delicate brow. Golden hair fans out around a gentle face and I lean forward, pressing a rough kiss onto already passion-bruised lips. My hips thrust forward fast and hard and the beautiful mouth gasps against mine. I continue to thrust into tight heat until the lithe body convulses around and I feel a wet stickiness between us. Moments later I empty myself into the heated body and scream out a name.
"Legolas!" I jerk upright in bed, sweat dripping into my eyes. With growing shame, I feel the stickiness of my dream-release on my stomach. With a groan I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. The floor is cold under my bare feet and I quickly throw on a pair of breeches and a loose tunic, not bothering to lace it up. It is late and most of Imladris should be quiet and deserted. I stealthily make my way down the hall to one of the bathing rooms and lock the door behind me. Within minutes I have a tub full of hot water and I slip out of my clothes and into the welcoming liquid.
My head rests against the edge of the tub and I close my eyes. I haven't dreamt of Legolas in years and tonight's dream has me rattled. I love Arwen, I really do. I would feel absolutely lost without her and my heart breaks knowing that I may never be able to call her my wife. So why the dream about Legolas? I should be happy and content being here once again with my betrothed. I should not even be *thinking* about anyone else that way, let alone dreaming and fantasizing.
I sigh then duck under the water, wetting my hair. When I emerge I run a hand over my face, clearing away the water that clings to my lashes and eyebrows. I open my eyes to see Legolas standing silently in the corner. His presence surprises me but I try not to show it. "What are you doing here?" I do a fairly admirable job of sounding distant and uninterested.
"I came to talk to you." His voice is not how I remembered it. Back when we were lovers it was soft and gentle. Sweet. Now it has a hard edge to it. An edge that cuts to the bone.
My eyes rake over him and I realize that he is dressed in his traveling clothes with his baldric strapped onto his shoulders. Odd. "You came to me in the middle of the night to talk? How did you even get in here? The door is locked."
He looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Yes, the door is locked but the window is open." I reflexively glance at the window, confused. "Aragorn, I am an Elf. The fact that we are several stories up is no problem for me. I saw you leave your room and I followed you here. When I found the door locked I simply came in through the window."
I try to save face by nodding. "What did you want to talk to me about?" Again I try to keep my voice neutral. He doesn't answer but stands there, staring at me. Suddenly I feel very afraid. I grew up with Elves and I tend to forget that they are truly volatile creatures when provoked. Though I don't know the reason, Legolas is apparently extremely upset. His grey eyes bore into me, fixing me to the spot. He stands perfectly straight and perfectly still; like he's stalking some sort of prey animal. Me. Shivers run down my spine.
Finally he speaks. "What do I want to talk about? Hmm. Let's see. Why don't we talk about how you left me." He moves forward a few steps and the moonlight hits him, casting an unearthly silver glow about him.
"No Legolas." I am determined not to open this particular topic. "I had my reasons and I will not discuss them." I keep my voice hard, letting him know I will not bend.
I was wrong. Anything will bend under the right circumstances. Faster than my eye can follow, Legolas reaches behind his shoulder and draws one of his white knives. He holds it out and approaches. "We *will* discuss the reasons, Aragorn." The tip of the knife presses into my throat and I swallow nervously.
I never would have thought him capable of this but as I look into his eyes I see that this is not the same gentle Elf I used to love. There is a mad glint in Legolas' eyes and I know that this new Elf is crazy. I nod just the slightest bit. "All right. I'll discuss this with you if you'll please just put the knife down."
He smirks and twists the knife slowly. "You are hardly in a position to be making demands, Estel." The way he says my name leaves no doubt that he meant it as an insult. "Now, I wish to hear why you left me the way you did. Why you *used* me the way you did." He settles himself on the edge of the tub, leaving the knife pointed at my throat.
"I never used you Legolas!" My protest is cut short when the icy tip of the knife presses harder into my skin. "I swear, Legolas, I never meant to hurt you. When I first met you I was entranced by your beauty and I sought your friendship. It didn't take long before you had me completely under your spell..."
His hard, cold voice interrupts me again. "So now it's my fault? I bewitched you, leaving you no choice but to hurt me?!"
"No! That's not what I meant. Elbereth, Legolas, how can I tell you how you affected me. I admit, I was selfish, bedding you when I knew I couldn't hold you for the rest of my life no matter how much I wanted to." I hear a disbelieving snort and continue. "I did, Legolas. I wanted to hold you until the day I died but I knew I couldn't. I knew, but I ignored it for a selfish time of pleasure."
"And how is that not using me? Please explain."
"Because I loved you!" I am afraid to move and I hope my eyes can convey how sincerely I mean what I say.
The Elf sits calmly for many long moments before his cold, quiet voice drifts to my ears. "And now?"
I lower my eyes. "No, Legolas. Not anymore. Love is like this water; hot at first but the longer you sit the more it cools unless you do something to refresh it. I loved you when I left you and I left because I was afraid. I knew I'd made a mistake and I didn't know how to correct it so I fled. Stars, Legolas! I was only twenty-two! Still a child even by the standards of Men! I'll admit, I was acting selfishly, not thinking about the pain it would cause you, but I never hurt you intentionally."
The knife vibrates and I raise my eyes to the Elf. He is trembling and his eyes no longer hold that mad gleam. Instead they are dark and dull. I think I fear that more than the craziness. "I... I..." His voice quavers then he releases the blade which splashes into the tub and sinks to the bottom. For a moment he doesn't move but finally he rises slowly to his feet and moves silently to the door, never giving me another glance. He stands before the locked door and leans his head against it, as if he needs it to hold him upright.
I open my mouth to speak, to call him back, but he pushes back from the door then opens it and passes out into the corridor like a shadow. Oh fuck. I think I just broke him.
********
so. more? *evil grin*