*~Elrond~*
I would give myself to him, I decided. I would give anything to him, of only it meant being by his side or in is arms. At first I had refused because I had not anticipated his resistance but that error had proved treacherous, and then he was gone.
Gone! He would really be gone in a few days...The thought made a sob rise in my chest; the six weeks he had been absent I could think of little else except his safety, and now I will wonder for him again. Yet there is so much more at stake and I think of love! Love has the capacity to make one very selfish indeed.
I will give myself to him, I need him, I must go to him now! Thankfully he is not but a few hurried steps outside of my chamber; my heart begins to beat faster in anticipation. I can already feel his skin under my hands, feel him arching under me in delight…
Without even knocking I burst in on his bedchamber, stopping short as I see him sitting next to Glorfindel.
"Elrond," Legolas says softly, looking surprised but pleased.
Surprise, shock cross Glorfindel's golden features, and he exchanges a look with Legolas, bids us both a late good night, and makes a hasty exit, closing the door firmly behind him
Suddenly I have a feeling these two know something I do not, but as of right now I am not troubled by it; there are more pressing matters at hand. Any thought of what transpired in the garden is forgotten and rendered irrelevant, we forget that the cup of love we are about to drink from is forbidden, and we forget that discovery would mean shunning or even death. All this is vanished by both of us as he stands, reaching toward me and whispers, "Come to me. Come to me and take me. Take me now."
*~Legolas~*
I had never hoped for love such as this. I had never dreamed of love like this. The falling of silk and velvet to the floor, the long fingers untangling braids. The guidance, the fear and ignorance evaporating from my pleasure in heart and mind. The wash of dark hair over fevered skin, the eyes that held mine and spoke a thousand words without a breath of sound. The slow, rhythmic dance of love making. The screams into the darkness of the night.
We awoke slowly, still a tangle of limbs and love. Waking up beside him after a night of love making was the most beautiful part yet…or maybe it was just that each new thing seemed the best. I am not sure. He is so beautiful; dark hair entangled with my pale hair and fingers, eyes still half lidded in sleep but he smiles at me, whispering, "Good morning."
I kiss him gently and he smiles again, watching me as I sit up slowly, wincing slightly. Walking for the both of us might be uncomfortable today. He clasps my hand and rises too; I can see blood and semen smeared on the bed sheets and our bodies, but it is of little consequence.
Now instead of staring to antagonize we spend the last three days together. We must be careful of our interactions around others but every single moment spent in the presence of this elf lord is worth anything to me. I do not understand. How can love, pure and true love, be forbidden between any?
Nights are passion filled, but on the last night he lies spent in my arms and murmurs sadly, "Tomorrow you go. We may never see each other again." He means: the task you take is dangerous; deadly.
"Do not think of such things," I reply, kissing his ear, but the same thought clouds my mind.
*~Elrond~*
I watch from the gate as the Fellowship departs.
His hair shines in the sunlight, brighter than any jewel, any burnished metal, moving slowly further and further away. I fight the urge to run after him, take him in my arms, and forget that everything else exists as I lose myself in the scent of his hair as I close my eyes.
I see Arwen standing next to me and in her eyes there is doubt, fear, and love which mirror my own feelings. We worry.
I wonder at the corruption of men, the corruption of a soul and agonize of the trouble that weakness brings. I agonize of the weakness of my own soul, for whom it loves. Sometimes I think that it would be best if no one loved; that way no one would hurt.
*~Legolas~*
The other members of the Fellowship are oblivious to my internal debates during the day, and only at night am I free to let my mind wander back to the happy days in Imladris, into the nights that seem so long ago.
Perhaps the only one who can see my turmoil is Mithrandir; he is wise and sees much from beneath his bushy eyebrows. While he says nothing directly his thoughts touch mine, offering a soothing word of encouragement.
It shall all be done and over with soon, he says. Patience.
Yes, patience. With the passing of time, one must learn patience. For more than two thousand years patience is something I had never needed until I met Elrond.
Lorien.
Briefly I fear that the Lady of the Wood shall see my heart and for a moment I think all shall be lost! While she senses my trouble I do not think she can see my thoughts, and I breathe freely once again.
Alone among the silvery trees I miss Elrond, and mourn for the loss of the one who sensed my debate, though comfort seems to have arrived from the most unlikely of places…Gimli. He has followed me to my hide out, in the lower branches above a talan and thankfully is without that wretched axe.
He bows stiffly. "Master Elf,"
I nod in reply, wishing he would leave me alone.
Instead, grim and determined, he leaves the ground and begins to ascend toward my perch. "We dwarves," he grunted, "Are best in caves." He heaved himself up onto the ledge of the talan, and would have attempted to reach me but fearing for his safety I jump down. Gimli leans back against the broad trunk of the tree and heaves a heavy sigh of relief.
"Why do you follow me?" I question, hoping my voice does not betray my annoyance.
"You are troubled, Master Elf."
Is that sympathy, compassion perhaps in his beady eyes? I narrow my own shrewdly. "And what is it to you?" I demand.
He raises his hands in a gesture of defeat. "If you wish me to leave you in peace, I shall. If there is a matter that troubles you that you wish to share, I will stay."
I am surprised. "Thank you," I say softly. "I am sorry for my hostility, but I do not think this a matter that you would understand."
"Elvish concerns," he grunts with a wave of his hand.
"Elvish concerns," I echo, smiling slightly to myself.
*~Elrond~*
In the shadows of the evening, I wait. I wait for the inevitable end that the passing of time brings, and I mourn. I mourn the loss of my daughter to mortality; the corruption of death and passing weighs heavily on my soul, the burden of the half elven. I think of Elros, and I miss him. I miss Aragorn, wishing that the burden that he must bear must not be so great. I miss Legolas, this brief, golden glimpse of what it is to love another (that is not your child) more than you love yourself. I worry for Legolas, await word of his safety, and mourn what shall never be.
There is a soft knock on the door and without awaiting an answer Glorfindel enters, taking a seat next to me in the window. "You are troubled," he says softly, and from his melancholy eyes I can see he is troubled as well. "The house is so empty."
"Yes." His blue eyes remind me much of Legolas, though Legolas has a spark of fire while Glorfindel emits cool wisdom of many, many ages. How I long to tell him of my sorrow, fear, longing but I cannot. I cannot even tell my greatest friend of my sins and I seem to hurt even more.
Pain is a bitter emotion, but prohibited love is worse; it is a sweet poison that once you have had a taste of it, you will forever be in need of more, and the more you have the more you will suffer. If it was me alone, suffering in unfulfilled want, I could bear it. The thought, the mere possibility that if we were ever known that this golden flame could be snuffed out in what would be allowed kin slaying…I could not bear it.
*~Legolas~*
I see him again, three months from now. The burning of love has not died between us; at Elessar's wedding I catch his eye and our hearts sing out to each other, but reason muffles it painfully in my chest. As I watch the wedding I am joyful for my friend as he joins with my lover's daughter, but admittedly my heart aches with a slight pang of jealousy. For they may stand before all and profess their love, but others, such as Glorfindel and myself, cannot.
My penchant for unorthodox liaisons have also manifested in the deepest but most unlikely friendship in the dwarf, Gimli, who can sense my internal turmoil. "And what is it that troubles you so, Master Elf? Is this not to be a joyous occasion?"
I do not answer; I cannot answer. I cannot even look at him for fear that I shall give myself away.
Sensibly the dwarf says nothing, standing on his stout legs one hand on my arm as he offers his silent support, and I am grateful.
Before our company parts ways, Elrond and I steal a moment alone in the shadows of the woods, the trees whispering to me, "Forbidden, sinner, illicit lover…you will never have him."
I ignore them, not caring for they tell me what I already know. We have this moment, I have this moment, reveling only in the bliss of love, the shining of his eyes and the scent of his skin as his dark hair flutters in my face. Again love has reduced my reason to jelly but I do not curse and fight the emotion now for it has brought me Elrond.
"That you and my sons have returned safely from the War of the One Ring will forever be my greatest joy." An embrace, a kiss. "And you must know that I belong to you and to you only."
My heart catches in my throat at his words of devotion and I long to sob and be held by him, be seen by everyone together, to sing out to all of Arda that this is the one I love! But he is the bearer of Vilya; to sully his legend to the eyes of others by acknowledging my heart…I would never forgive myself. I cannot make my tongue function to return his words of dedication but looking into my eyes he kisses my forehead.
"I know," Elrond whispers, cupping my face to his chest.
Finding my voice I choke out, tears threatening, "For the thousands of years we have lived this is a heart beat in time…I wish…I do not want…!" It is not what I want to say but I am shaking and can think of nothing more.
"Shh," he soothes, and is about to say more, but then a twig snaps under an approaching foot and we jolt apart before Erestor rounds the corner.
And so we part; his dark hair and strong shoulders disappearing into the distance, moving softly with the strides of his mount, and not once does he look back to where I stand alone under the trees. Whether we will see, talk, spend time, or make love to each other again I do not know.
I, Legolas Greenleaf, have loved one and will love no other, but it cannot be known for what I carry in my heart is forbidden, for all time.
~The End~
FYI: If you are a Legolas-Elrond fan, see Treachery…I know I was always looking for more L/E slash and had a hard time finding it, oh, and I don't have a beta reader so if any one is interested please email me; I really would like one and have had a hard time finding one from lists…
