This chapter is fro Kris, who has graciously accepted to be my beta and who has put her wonderful support into the story.
We have climbed a mighty mountain. This is what a plateau feels like.
"Don't forget about our promise," she whispered to Baeron. The night had grown very, very late and dawn was approaching.
"Never," he whispered in return, not blinking once. His fingers rose to her cheek and glided down almost in the same fashion as they had the night in Paris.
She nodded, then embraced him and placed a single kiss on his cheek. Baeron said nothing, but gave her a long, apprehensive look, as if he meant to etch her into his memory for all times. She saw the sadness that was the curse of his kind, fluttering in his eyes like a bird fluttering helplessly in a cage. The curse of sitting in the corner, seeing everyone come in, sit at the table for a pleasant conversation, then get up and leave, never to return again. "Then I will not say farewell yet," was her gentle statement.
"May our paths cross once more, my friend," he said to Legolas.
The other nodded and replied in the traditional way: "In this world or the other."
They shook hands and after that, Legolas embraced Irulan's back and guided her away from Baeron, in the direction of the hotel. After a good distance she turned to glance over her shoulder and to her surprise, Baeron was still there, his stance completely unchanged. There was something almost eerie about his outline, with his Gondorian armor and his hands clasped behind his back standing in the middle of the street, his face in shadows while laughing and singing groups and couples passed by him. It seemed exactly like a reflection of his life amongst mortals.
The vision stayed with her until they arrived at the hotel, some forty minutes later and some five minutes after that, walked into their room.
It was dark but Legolas did not turn on the lights. Instead, he continued his guidance to the bedchamber in darkness. Irulan sighed and releasing herself from his arm, walked up to the bed. She struggled to reach the ties that held the gown behind her back, but as before, the thing did not look like it was designed to be put on or shed without help (Legolas had assisted her in putting it on, earlier that day).
After a few minutes of struggle she uttered a frustrated moan and sank onto the bed. Legolas, who had not followed her into room, materialized at the door. Irulan was about to tell him some of her opinions concerning why gowns had fulfilled their time and thankfully became extinct as a species, when his appearance forced her into speechless gaping. Unlike her, he had managed to shed his outer armor and stood with his leggings and his cream colored rough linen shirt. The shirt had a very low neckline and revealed his perfect, pale chest. He had his second shirt in his hand when he locked eyes with her. Irulan closed her mouth and remained perfectly still when the elf smiled a breath-taking smile and after a seemingly too long moment, threw the clothing in his hand into the corner, without breaking eye contact with her.
She swallowed softly and managed to tear her eyes away, focusing instead on the color of the bedcover she was sitting on. "Allow me to help," he said slowly as he sat on the bed behind her. She felt herself tensing with the excitement of his proximity, but made no move or sound as his fingers found the straps and ties behind her back, slowly undoing them from top to bottom. He remained silent and so did she, her head spinning, her heart pacing and her lungs burning with the recent events. She shifted despite herself when his fingers touched her bare back as he continued to untie the seemingly endless straps, but Legolas gave no indication of seeing it and continued without haste.
When he reached the middle of her back and the garment was sliced open in the upper part, revealing a good amount of back and shoulders, Irulan felt the ache of sitting as erect as a stick and placed her hand in front of her, leaning slightly on it. This served to aid his job, exposing more of her back to him, but again Legolas said nothing and remained completely silent. Irulan dropped her head, massaging her neck with her other hand and trying very hard to think of something -anything- other than the fact that Legolas was sitting behind her and undressing her in this dark and confining room.
In her eagerness to do so, she did not even feel him finish his task. But when his hands gracefully parted the fabric to settle on her lower back, she instantly returned to the present. Nothing happened for a moment and she held her breath, excited beyond her wits by the warmth of his touch alone. His hands moved up and fanned out in an arc, pushing the dress away completely. Her own hand unconsciously closed on the cover of the bed when he reached her sides and glided down to halt at her waist.
Still Irulan could not move or speak. As a matter of fact, she was amazed that she could even breathe. The silence was so deep that she felt the need to say something, but words evaded her. What was there to say? This was not a moment of speech. Her breath quickened as she hesitated in regard to her next action. Perhaps she should get up and move away at this point? She had no idea why she would want to do a thing like that, but it seemed somehow right.
The thought vanished when Legolas kissed her between the shoulder blades. To be honest, all thought vanished with that action. Irulan was only aware that she clutched the sheet harder with both hands, instinctively leaning further down as if to evade the scorching fire of his lips. But her arms remained rigid and only pronounced her shoulder blades further. When he moved further left, placing another kiss in the upraised flesh, she froze to immobility. Her mouth dropped open, still distantly attempting to speak, but again she found nothing to say.
Her lack of reply only encouraged him further and he continued his action, less hesitant and more bold this time. Her frozen state continued when he glided to the right, reveling in the taste of her upper back before he found her spine once more. His hands on her waist slid further in to gain a better grasp of it and he slightly pulled her towards himself while he continued his journey along her backbone, further down. At this point, Irulan was definitely on fire. And she had no clue how he did what he did. She had been with men before, and some of those had been fairly ardent. But none, not a single one, could compare to the thrill that was roaring in her with the warm, moist trail of kisses Legolas was leaving on her back. It was not a willing, but rather an inevitable reaction that at his arrival at the small of her back she gasped and sat up erect, thereby preventing the continuance of his ministrations.
Irulan swallowed with unease when his lips moved away, feeling both regret and relief simultaneously. A shaky breath escaped her lips when his hands glided up her waist, meeting in the middle. But to the contrary of her expectations of being removed from her back, they continued their upward path and grasped her shoulders, exerting a strong pull and forcing her to tilt back on him. The unexpected motion made her tip back and collide her naked skin with his soft linen shirt and almost instantly his left arm snaked around her waist, securing her position. Her body had nothing to use as leverage and Irulan remained stiff, but plastered against him.
"Sssshhhhh," he said into her ear. Instead of relaxing her, his warm breath on her neck excited her only further. Both of her hands found the arm that was encircling her and grasped it with the need to hold on to something. "Are you afraid, Irulan?" he whispered before he kissed the junction between her neck and her ear, causing a slight tremble in her body.
She swallowed hard, hoping that her voice would comply. "I....no. Yes. Maybe......I guess a little," she stammered, feeling extremely foolish and about five years old.
Though she could not see his face, she felt him smile before he continued kissing her neck and her shoulder in agonizing slowness. "Don't be," he finally said into her ear, and this time nipped its lobe. Irulan's eyes fluttered and her grasp on his arm immediately grew with the effort to stifle an automatic moan. It took a good amount of strength to do that and when she emerged victorious from the battle a few moments later, Legolas' other hand was gently and skillfully releasing the loose braids in her hair. When the task was done he sighed softly and glided his hand through it several times while Irulan tilted her head slightly forward to give him easier access. It felt so damn good! Almost miraculously relaxing.
He shifted then, tilting her forward into her former position and once again Irulan swiftly placed her hand on the bed beside her, leaning on it. Legolas retrieved his hand from her waist and the contact between them ceased completely when he reclined. She remained in the position he had placed her in, like some stupid toy, out of breath. Of all things, she did not expect the harsh cold that ran through her when his touch ended. Her eyes flew open and she trembled slightly once more at the intensity of need she felt for him. The room was rather warm, but it felt nowhere near enough at the moment. Just when she was about to turn around and see why he had drawn back like that, she felt Legolas shift and move behind her, so she decided to wait. A moment later he placed his hand directly behind hers and leaned on it in a similar fashion. His body pressed onto hers and when his chin rested on her shoulder, Irulan felt the touch of his naked chest against her back.
All thoughts of turning away from that path vanished from her mind at that sensation. She closed her eyes as his other hand ran down her hair and her spine, then moved up to renew the journey. He said nothing, and compared to her, he seemed very calm and relaxed. Well then....he was expected to be....being probably far more experienced in these matters than herself. She turned her head and for the first time glanced at him over her shoulder. True, Legolas was always stunningly beautiful. But at that moment he looked completely....divine. He smiled a fabulous smile when their eyes met and tilted his head to place his cheek on her shoulder, gazing back at her. His hand never stopped its travel on her back while they stared at each other for several moments.
He shifted, drawing closer to her and placed a single, scorching kiss on her shoulder, then resumed his position, locking eyes with her once more. Irulan was certain that his steady caress of her hair and her back was some sort of spell, because the death-rate of her heart had ceased and she had drifted into a strange comfort. It almost felt like being drunk. Like the surrender to what was to come. Her battle died and a most welcome acceptance came over her spirit.
"I want you," whispered Legolas, his blue eyes darker than usual. Her insides literally twisted with that statement, but strange enough she did not feel ashamed or flabbergasted. "But I will not move without consent, Irulan," he added a moment later.
She almost laughed out loud at that. 'Without consent?!' she thought in awe and disbelief. 'Like I have a choice at this point!' It was downright foolish to be given the choice when one was already seduced into agreement. And cruel, too! "You will leave this room now if I ask you to?" she asked finally, very amused but giving nothing away in her tone of voice. Thankfully the silliness of it lifted some of the drowning intensity.
Legolas pursed his lips with the effort to look determined. It was against his nature and his principles to do otherwise, but to be honest, he was not as certain as he pretended to be in his reply. "Yes."
Irulan stared at him, still suppressing the laughter mercilessly. "What will happen then?"
He said nothing for a moment and cast his eyes down. "I will get up," was the slightly heroic and matter-of-fact reply, "and….go to the other room….and….well, my guess is….die," he finished, his tone both sheepish and frustrated at the same time.
She exploded into soft laughter then and Legolas smiled, retrieving his head from her shaking shoulder, but not moving away. He cocked his head, observing her glee and his smile grew broader while he moved her long hair over her shoulder to expose her back completely. He pressed his palm against her flesh, this time moving up and down with a soothing, wave-like motion. She sighed finally, shaking her head. "I would not want to be the reason for that."
Something sparked to life in his eyes at her words and he leaned over her shoulder to kiss her warmly on the cheek. A gentle, seductive kiss on her lips followed and she opened her eyes to see him pull away a little. "Give yourself to me," he whispered and Irulan felt surprised once again at how fast his mood could shift. The intensity that had disappeared a moment ago seemed to have returned in the blink in the eye.
A moment passed, but it held no hesitation for Irulan. The decision was already made. "I am yours to take, Legolas," she said slowly.
His hand stilled and suddenly a hush fell on her. Legolas neither moved, nor blinked and Irulan believed to hear her own heartbeat like thunder in the room. Then a slow fire crept up to her. A sizzling, frying, sparkling, burning, scorching, searing fire it was. But that was not the strange part. The strange part was, unlike the one that had held unbelievable pain for her just days ago, this one held the opposite: pure, absolute pleasure.
She took a deep and slow breath as it began to move up, filling her from head to toe. Their eyes did not unlock for a single moment as his hand moved again, gliding down and under her dress, towards the right. It moved over her ribs, further down, encircling her waist once more.
With no more cloth between them, it felt VERY different than before. Though Irulan held no hesitations about further intimacy with Legolas, at that moment she actually for the first time wondered how she would endure it. She swallowed softly, still not able to divert her gaze from his eyes as the passion that emanated from him became almost unbearable.
What followed after that moment can only be described as a dance. A dance with a wild, mad, rhythm that never repeated itself.
At times it was a tango and she found herself both overly excited and baffled by his masculine dominance. She was thrown against the pillows and had no time to catch her breath before Legolas was above her, pinning her hands above her head. Then he would slowly lower himself onto her, his eyes rendering her breathless while he would begin a tantalizing journey with mouth, lips and teeth from ear to navel, from face to breast. None of Irulan's past lovers had owned her, demanded her, desired her like this.
A waltz would follow and the heated kisses would lose nothing of their passion, but gain an almost noble edge to them. His hands would do an agonizingly alluring and slow undressing of the rest of her clothing with such grace and skill, that she felt like she was not being unclad, but adored. Like a live model, touched by the sculptor to burn every curve into his mind forever.
Then there was the ballet. The butterfly kisses and the hair combing and the whispered praises. The subtle caresses and the torturous prolonging.
The beat was like Kodo drums. First there was just a single one....deep and primitive. Then there was another. And another. And before long...or perhaps hours later –she could not be sure- there was this symphony of drums that seemed to echo to her own heartbeat. A duel of genders.....a romance of male and female.....a joining of spirit, body and mind. Love...love....love....love......
And absolute peace.
Another dance.
Perfect completion.
Yet another dance.
Unparalleled bliss.
***
The next time she woke up, it was to a kiss on her shoulder. No...more like a string of kisses. She swallowed softly and shifted slightly, her muscles pulsing with a welcome soreness. Legolas grasped her waist from behind and pressed her to himself, continuing his ministrations of her shoulder. His lips moved up her shoulder, to her neck and her ear. He licked her earlobe in a very slow manner. Then again. Then once more before he gently sucked on it. Irulan broke into a moan and clutched the sheet. She simply could not resist this and the evil elf had discovered all her weak points in one night alone!
"Legolas," she moaned with frustration, "you will kill me!"
He chuckled behind her, pulling her to lie on her back while he rose on his elbow to look down at her. She did not open her eyes, but felt his gentle caress on her cheek. "I cannot resist," he whispered a moment later and his lips brushed over hers. "Blame your own beauty," was the muffled addition as his kisses trailed down her throat and over her collarbone while his palm drew feathery circles on her abdomen.
Irulan stifled another moan and wiggled beneath his touch while her eyelids fluttered open. The elf did not halt in his ministrations as the sunlit room came into view and she stared at the ceiling while he continued his journey downwards. Her hands found his head, gliding into the soft hair. Legolas groaned at the touch and moved to lie down on her completely, gazing into her eyes. Irulan's hands wandered down his neck, over his strong and muscular shoulders. He looked like a piece of art - perfect. His skin was fair, but not a disturbing porcelain white - It held a slight olive glaze to it. His figure was not bulky but muscular and lithe, the tendons evident and steely to the touch. Though he was pressed against her, raised on his forearms, he was surprisingly light.
Her hands retraced the route they had taken and her fingers glided over his sharp jawbone, up to his pronounced cheekbones, his perfect eyebrows, his strong nose and his beautiful lips. Legolas remained absolutely still, his eyes never leaving hers, and only with the touch of her fingers on his lips, gave a sigh of pleasure and kissed them. Her eyes finally found his and neither said a word for a while as their warm bodies remained in that embraced state.
The most surprising part was that she felt nothing unnatural about the fact that their relationship had gained a quite….heated physical aspect. It felt so incredibly natural! She knew that the Sharing had a part in that – for after such intimacy, making love was not as drastic a thing as it would normally be. Once the spirits had mingled and had been united in that irreversible fashion, the unison of bodies was a pleasant, but not overly daunting phenomenon. Yet…..there was something else about Legolas that made her feel….at home. It made her feel saved. It made her feel as if he had found her, sitting on the dirt, unhappy and unsatisfied and offered his hand, pulling her up to stand erect once more.
"What happens now?" she said finally, resting her palms on his sides.
His right hand moved to comb back her hair. He leaned in for a single, tender kiss on the lips before he resumed his posture. "You mean this day?"
"This day.....and the following days."
He sighed and kissed her cheek before giving her face a good inspection. "I told Haldir that we want to be present at the meeting." She nodded deftly. "The sooner we go, the sooner we will be done with it. Tomorrow?"
Irulan nodded again, her hands caressing his ribs. Legolas gave no indication of feeling it as his gaze wandered down to her neck. He slightly turned her face to take a better look at the purple mark. A small smile crept up his face as his fingers traced the evidence of his passion. "Then.....we can do anything we want," he whispered, returning his gaze to her. "I thought we might go to New York together. You can say goodbye to your friends and colleagues......gather the things that you hold of value....."
His blue gaze held hers as he sighed once more. "England is a good place to dwell for the time being. But I have other estates in many places. Some we can not use - it is too soon yet and I might be remembered. But we can acquire others. Anywhere in the world." He looked at her for a long moment, but her expression said nothing. "Let us buy a house in Manhattan. You can stay there when you miss it."
She broke into soft laughter. This ease of spending was one thing she needed far more time to get used to. "England is fine." She smirked momentarily. "Wet and chilly....but fine. As for New York...." She sighed, gazing over his shoulder for a moment. "Yes, I will miss it. But even if....I suppose to stay in a hotel is a better solution," she finished with a grin.
His eyes twinkled and he captured her lips, giving her a long, sound kiss before he sucked on her lower lip and once again, continued along her jawbone. "Legolas!" she scolded with mock frustration, but it was too weak and soon turned into chuckles. "Stop, I say!" He chuckled along, but did not stop at all, delving into the hollow of her throat. Irulan wiggled beneath him and pressed her hands on his chest to push him off, but with lightning speed her hands were found and locked above her head while the elf sighed and continued towards her shoulder. Irulan let out a growl of both frustration and glee, fighting against his impossible hold to no avail. "I think my stomach is growling," she said then, out of breath.
He only laughed in reply before he kissed her between the breasts. "I don't hear it."
"I'm very sure," she breathed.
"Let me see," he said and in one fluid motion sat up and reversed their positions, so that he was sitting against the bedboard and Irulan was on his lap, folded in his embrace. She blinked with surprise, then pushed herself slightly off his shoulders to give him an angry look. Legolas grinned at her attempt and without diverting his gaze from her face, slowly placed his feet on the bed and slightly bent his legs, forcing her to glide down closer to him. His left arm remained on her back while his right hand combed through her hair, then waltzed down her chest to rest on her stomach. They locked eyes and he gave her a very sly smile. "I don't feel it, Irulan," he whispered, pulling her closer.
She stubbornly tried to retain her position but the elf was too strong for her and Irulan ended up bending her arms by the elbows, standing nose to nose with him. "Well *I* feel it," she managed to say finally. It was becoming harder to look angry when Legolas was this overwhelming.
"Very well," he murmured against her lips and began a lazy, seductive kiss on them. "Then we shall eat. Soon." His hand moved up to the back of her head and pulled her in for a deeper and more passionate kiss. Irulan felt her entire being melting with that kiss and her arms released their position to glide around his neck for an embrace. It was all the encouragement Legolas needed. He did not break their contact while his hands glided to her thighs and with one strong pull she was relocated to sit closer to him.
"Will you give me a Vienna tour as well?" Irulan panted when she managed to break off.
"Some other time," he whispered with impatience, clasping his mouth over hers again.
"Today!" she whined, ceasing the contact once more.
"We can come back next week!" was his slightly frustrated reply. Irulan gave him an exaggerated look of disappointment. Actually at the moment it was hard to do so, for Legolas was more than fabulous with that expression of pure desire on his face. His normally fair skin had gained a pinkish hue and the dark blue of his eyes looked very alluring.
"Please," she pouted and swept her fingers over his temple, over the rim of his ears, which remained a sensitive spot for the elves, even though the shape was nothing like the original, anymore.
He growled with the effect, before his hands glided over her knees, arcing to her inner thighs, making Irulan gasp involuntarily. "As you wish," he said with a low voice and grasped her waist. "But," he added a moment later, "you should not have pouted, Irulan."
He moved with his usual speed and dived forward, ending up with Irulan locked underneath him on the bed. She laughed despite herself, feeling like a little child who is lifted and rolled with evident ease. Legolas shifted to lie more comfortably on her and held her gaze as Irulan grinned with pure mischief. "Punish me then," was her low and amused statement, accompanied with the raising of a single eyebrow.
Pure lust fanned out from the elf, bouncing through her and involuntarily her fingers dug softly into his shoulders at the unexpectedness of it. A reddish color slowly spread on her face, along with the heat of passion. "Oh I will," groaned Legolas, allowing himself a feral grin. "I will, my love." She breathed with excitement as he slowly nuzzled her neck and leaned in towards her ear to whisper. "You can scream all you want, Irulan."
Her eyes shut at the gentle bite on her earlobe, followed by the nibbling that just made her so damn weak in the knees. She moaned a deep, guttural moan despite herself and, for the rest of the morning, forgot all about her hunger and Vienna.
***
When they entered the lobby later on, the decor that had been there for the Carnival still held, but seemed not nearly as exotic in the daylight. Legolas, his arm secured around Irulan's waist, walked to the reception desk and Elisa's eyes sparked to life when she spotted him. True, Irulan's presence at his side was not a very nice sight, but no matter what, she simply could not help to admire this man.
After a short conversation about last night and whether they enjoyed the service or not, he kindly requested airline tickets for the next day to London. The manager's face fell considerably at that, but she smiled nevertheless. "Your stay this time was rather short, Mr. Greenleaf," she said softly a moment later.
He smiled a gorgeous smile, observing her disappointment. "I have business in England. However, I intend to return as soon as I am done there."
She nodded and pretended to go through some files to hide her excitement. "It will be a pleasure to see you again."
"One more thing, Elisa," the elf added then, "Can you also arrange transportation for Miss Irulan's car?"
"Certainly, sir. How fast would you like it delivered?"
"As fast as possible. That will probably be a couple of days."
She nodded. "The address?"
His smile broadened before he answered. "Same as mine, Elisa."
Try as she might, Elisa failed to hide her heartbreak at that and even Irulan, who had been standing aside silently saw it and felt sorry for her. The woman nodded in consent and Legolas fished out the car keys, placing them in her palm. To her utter surprise he gently enfolded her fingers over them and held his hand in that position until her eyes snapped up to meet his. "Thank you. For everything," he said with utter gentleness and thereby probably guaranteed another decade of infatuation on the woman's behalf.
The day passed with moments of lazy tranquility along with gleeful excitement. Legolas constantly made future plans - where they would go and what they would do and whom she should most definitely meet and what she MUST taste and see and try. Her reaction varied from disbelief to bafflement, sometimes eyebrows raised in amusement, and in most cases, joy for the upcoming days and events.
Many times Irulan silently observed him as he spoke or frowned in wordless calculation, and each time she was baffled anew by the discovery of how much she had misjudged him. The great dislike and disappointment she had felt for Legolas after their first meeting seemed very far-fetched at the moment. He was everything she had ever dreamed of! And more.
He told her about Vienna, of course. Of the Ottoman Turks who had made it as far as the city gates and of their terrible power that had once swept across Europe, eager for world domination. About the times far, far before that - when only barbaric hordes roamed this part of the world. Then of the great artists and the times of music and Balls and dance.
But underneath the solemn and mature creature that Legolas had been, lurked another elf. A childish and careless one. A man who would pull her in for a tight embrace at the most unexpected moments or drag her into a narrow street to kiss her senseless. A man who was neither afraid, nor ashamed to show his new found enthusiasm and who cared nothing if the reason was a 'mere' woman. Humans would think it foolish for someone of his age and experience to act the way he did. But elves once were joyful creatures. They had been beings of light, full with love for life and eager for sharing. Time had turned them bitter and reserved, yes, but in their deepest reserves, it was their nature to be positive and hopeful.
And Legolas was swiftly returning to the elf that he had been, long before even Aragorn had existed. He had lived and survived on an island in harsh solitude all his life. For years and decades and centuries and millennia he had perhaps watched the waves lick the shore, the seasons hunt each other down, the life around him sprout, achieve full bloom, wither and die. Then one seemingly very ordinary day some other had arrived on his shore – someone untouched by him or anything he had known all this time. Someone who was eager to see his work and listen to his observations and endless dreams and share his world. It was true bliss!
Irulan loved Vienna. But she loved Legolas far more. And therefore remembered much less of the city and their tour than what she remembered of his touch and his kiss and his overwhelming aura of that day. There was simply no denying – he was obsessed with her and she was in constant need of him. He filled such a wide gap in her spirit that she often wondered in true honesty how on Earth she had lived with a hole as big as that until her current day.
Soon they both lost interest in the city and the history and the attractions and hurried back to their hotel room where they could remain only with each other and closed to the rest of the world. In this sacred solitude they encircled one another in spirit and body, learning of each other greedily. They spoke about almost everything, then contemplated in deep silence, shared their memories or fears or childish fantasies. When words became insufficient and dull, their bodies spoke and they made love with the imperishable need, affection, passion and tender care they held for each other. So their conversation of words, silence, sighs, moans, whispers, kisses and words again stretched on as the sky dimmed and the stars spread on the dark canvas of the night that set on Vienna.
"I love you," he whispered, out of breath after the incredible light and fire of their union died out enough to allow him speak. Though Legolas was an expert in the art of love, he had not experienced it with this sharpness and complete, unbelievable pleasure in all his long years. Never before, for instance, had he been breathless by the sheer excitement and the fabulous sensation of the afterglow.
Irulan did not open her eyes. She suspected that she was not capable of ANY movement at the moment. Her fingers remained dug into his skin and she wasn't even capable of releasing them. If her body did not do it automatically, she was certain that she wouldn't be breathing.
She felt him sink back onto her, laying his cheek on her shoulder. Elves did not sweat, but unfortunately humans did and her sweat alone was enough to cover both of them. She swallowed hard to soften the dryness in her throat and returned to the task of breathing. Only after many moments did she manage to unclamp her fingers and run her shaking hands to his head, gently grasping his hair. He moaned softly in response, but did not move other than that.
"I.......love you......too," she managed to wheeze out as the pleasure fanned out of her and slowly ebbed away, replaced by a peaceful tiredness. Irulan was certain that it was not her own pleasure alone that she was perceiving so vividly. Though that would be enough to take her breath away, this one coming from Legolas, was almost lethal in its intensity.
He turned his head a moment later and placed his other cheek on the exact location. When he spoke this time, she could feel the movement of his lips against her throat. "Never have I loved anyone like this. I fear it."
Her eyes opened then, and she swallowed once more before she found the whisper to continue: "What do you fear?"
A moment passed and the only sound in the room was their harsh breathing. "Its absence." The terror in his voice was evident even under the current circumstances.
Irulan did not answer, but embraced his shoulders with one hand, combing the other one through his hair. He grew very silent at that and she gently continued the action, satisfied that it brought him relief and peace. A long while passed and neither spoke. "No one has done that to me for thousands of years," he said finally, his voice far calmer and renewed in strength. "No one other than my mother." Her hand froze then, surprised by that statement. Another moment passed as she remained immobile and hesitant how to reply. "Don't stop," came finally the pleading whisper and after another gap of indecisiveness, she raised her hand to his hair again, slowly continuing the action.
Legolas sighed in satisfaction, then shifted slightly to lie more comfortable against her. Once again, she was amazed how light he was and how comfortable his weight felt upon her. She felt his lips on her throat again, this time in the open and repeated act of slow kissing mixed with licking and very gentle nipping on the same spot.
Another silence came, but it was welcome and warm. "What will others think of this?" she said finally.
It took him several moments to answer. "Does it matter?"
"Not really. Still.....in a way......I mean you are a high member of the Circle. And well.....I am Aragorn's kin....."
"As always....everyone will think anything. Some will support it. Others won't. Some will envy. Some will ignore. Some will pretend it never happened and others will pull it out in every possible occasion. I do not care." Irulan thought about that when he suddenly added: "Neither did Aragorn."
Her hand froze to that once more and the elf slowly pulled himself up, placing his forearms on both sides of her head, gazing down at her. "And look what great thing came from it," he whispered, his eyes unusually intense as they swept over her features, great fascination in them.
Suddenly the recollection of their Sharing floated up to her. A broken smile crept up to her lips. "Were you.....did you envy them?"
"Every single moment of every single day," he whispered, not looking away from her. She felt like he was burning her by his mere look and she could not break his gaze. "Little did I know that what they had would some day bring me my own great happiness." He kissed her again, this time slower and gentler, licking and tasting her lips.
"Tomorrow this will all end," she sighed finally.
He drew back and gave her a long look. "Tomorrow something better will begin," he whispered with pleasure.
Irulan ran her hand through his hair. He shifted and once again, in a rather fluid and graceful fashion, reversed their positions, pulling the cover over her back and smoothing it out so that it would cover her completely. Irulan moved a little to place her legs on either side of him and her head on his chest while he folded her into a tender embrace. "It was such a wonderful trip," she murmured, already feeling the tiredness taking hold of her mind. "Of body and spirit."
Legolas smiled as he felt her breathing gaining a softer edge and her muscles relaxing against him. He continued his caress of her back and kissed her head while she drifted off towards the land of dreams. He chose to remain awake – for no dream could be better than this.
***
He kept perfectly still and silent, sitting erect and alert. Nonetheless, Aragorn spoke without opening his eyes: "How long have you been waiting, my friend?"
Legolas smiled then, the agony of watching the king's figure for the last hours giving in to a small glimmer of hope. "Too long. You sleep too much, Estel."
Aragorn cracked an eye open and the elf raised his chin, meeting his gaze. Though he had witnessed it many times, it surprised him how these blue eyes remained completely unaffected and uncaring about the rest of the body, and lost nothing of their youth. 'He has the eyes of an elf,' he thought and was momentarily baffled by that strange discovery.
"Perhaps I was only testing your patience, Legolas," rumbled the king, making an effort to sit up.
In a flash the elf was up from his chair and gathered the pillows on the bed, placing them behind him. He could have made the man's effort much easier by aiding him, but that would be an insult to the king, who hated such assistance. So he remained standing until the other let out a breath of relief and sat back on the cushions.
A moment of silence passed between them and it was a missed, wanted silence of a leisure and comfortable conversation. It was the polite thing to do, so the elf fixed his gaze on the window and watched the sway of the distant flags while his friend gained his breath and woke further from his heavy slumber. "What news of the world?" was the final, rasping question.
Only then did Legolas meet his eyes and gave him a long, apprehensive look, accompanied by an amused smile. "You are king of Gondor. You know more than I do."
Aragorn uttered a chuckle that ended with a long sigh. "I know of politics and trade and warfare. I know nothing of the world!" His blue eyes glazed slightly as he continued, almost inaudibly: "What of the green pastures? The sharp cliffs of mountains? What of the wild, Legolas?" The elf remained silent and allowed him his trance. "How I missed the sunset in the open!" whispered Aragorn as the fingers of his right hand unconsciously caressed his sheet. "And the chilly dew that gathered on my mattress when I woke to a new morning. I miss the smell of harness." A short laughter that sounded too much like coughing followed. "Ah.....I guess what they say is true - I am ranger first and king second. Always have been and always will be."
Legolas swallowed and replied the smile that had bloomed on his friend's face in the same fashion. "You are lucky for you have tasted both," he said gently.
Aragorn nodded in silence and kept the wordless pause for another string of minutes. "My time has come, Legolas," he said suddenly and despite having expected this sort of conversation of course, the elf failed to remain inexpressive to that. Thankfully Aragorn had the same maturity and manners and pretended to overlook it. "This is goodbye."
It took a lot of effort not to tremble at those words. Legolas pursed his lips and focused on his hands that were resting on his knees. He let the fire tear through him and spread out until the sizzles died away. That dreadful, terrible pain was here once more. The pain of parting. Along with him came the equally strong frustration and hate - familiar sentiments that he had always tasted in his affairs with mortals. The stupid, unreasonable anger at their death - as if it was their own doing. In a way, this one was. "Why not stay, Estel?" he managed to whisper after an incredibly long time.
He did not look up and heard the king take a deep, tired sigh. Legolas knew that this was by far not the first time this conversation was taking place between them, and the Valar be his witness, he had been determined not to bring it up again this day. But under the pressure of his current sentiments, he gave in to the temptation once more. "I am what I am," was the slow reply. It almost sounded as if Aragorn was talking to a little child - though the opposite would be more acceptable. "Death to me is as natural as it is unnatural to you, dear friend."
"Your work here is not done yet!" he snapped despite himself and locked his furious gaze with the old man. "You have much service to offer to Middle Earth. My kind is leaving, Estel. You shared this worry with me. And yet you, too, choose to leave!"
Aragorn said nothing and held the elf's fiery looks easily. The reply in his eyes was gentle and calm, and drowned the flames in the other's orbs like cool water would still fire. After several minutes Legolas felt both ashamed and angry at his lack of control, and returned to his observation of his hands.
"I am tired, Legolas," was the wheeze of a reply. "Duties will never end. Work will never be completed. The road calls on...but my feet simply can answer no more."
The distant sound of the city along with his harsh breathing filled his ears as Legolas battled himself, not moving a muscle. When his eyes glided up again, over his whitened hair and his wrinkled skin and his thin, aged, weak figure, they were the calm eyes of an elf again. "Forgive me," he said, his tone soft. "Again, I have shown haste." He forced a smile onto his lips. "And again, you have shown patience."
To his surprise, the king grinned to that. "Such is the way of our kinds," he mocked, adding a laughter. This time, it did not turn into a coughing fit and therefore brightened the elf's smile further.
Aragorn sighed in satisfaction and leaned back further, his eyes gliding to the ceiling. "It was a good life."
"Yes," was the soft reply.
"Where does your road take you from here, Legolas?"
He hesitated for a moment. "I do not know," he admitted finally, gazing out of the window once more. He saw Aragorn's face turn to him from the corner of his eye but could not meet his gaze for another minute. When he finally did, blue locked into blue and strengths of different kinds collided. "Tell me to stay, and I will, Estel," he whispered.
Even the king's breathing stopped at that and there was utter silence for a moment. Heavy, intense silence. A blanket that muffled the many, many unspoken words which flew around in the room, buzzing between them. "I can never ask you for such a thing," was the slow response and embedded itself deep between them.
"Yes you can," Legolas said with fixed determination. "If anyone, YOU can."
"No Legolas I-"
"Aragorn!" he cut in with impatience, waving his arm in a single graceful, dismissive arc. "Tell me your heart's desire." The man shifted with discomfort in his bed, his blue eyes blank, his lips pressed into a thin line and for the first time his expression hard. It was a mask he had often used in the past and the elf was familiar enough with it to know that it aided him to hide his emotions. "Tell me what you wish then, not what you want. If this is our last hour, I deserve to know."
They glared at each other so long that an outsider would think them frozen in pose. The room stank of desperation. Of curse to old age and time. Of unfulfilled wishes and future hopes. Of anger, love and helplessness. "What do you wish to hear?" hissed Aragorn finally, his demeanor cold and angry. "What do you wish to hear, Legolas? Do you wish to hear that in my weakness, I long for you to stay? That I am selfish enough to want you to remain while all your kind is leaving for good?" His whisper rose and gained a sharp, frosty tone as he continued, his blue eyes blazing fire to the elf sitting across his bed. "That underneath all my justice, nobility, maturity lies a man that fears and frets for his kind - enough to sacrifice his best friend for its sake?! Is that what you wish to hear?!"
The king's voice rang through the confined room and it sounded nothing like the voice of an old man. Any other would flinch and fear. But not Legolas. His expression said nothing. His heart said the world. "Yes!" he hissed after the echo had died out and a tense silence had arrived. Aragorn's eyes widened with the surprise and the elf continued, looking more menacing than afraid: "Yes! THAT's what I want to hear!" The man just stared into the eyes of this creature, suddenly baffled by the slow intensity building up there. He knew well enough of the patience and gentleness of elves. As well as he knew how deep their fury could run. "I want to hear that I am needed!" The last part came out surprisingly loud and both men stilled momentarily, both surprised by the tone and the meaning of that statement.
Legolas broke his gaze in frustration as his friend just stared at him with silent patience. His fingers unconsciously rolled into fists, digging into his knees. A distant part of him scolded him for doing all the things he had decided NOT to do this day. That distant part remained distant. "I want to be needed," he said, this time far softer, laced with a sad edge. "I want to be good and useful for something." He received no answer and sighed in defeat. "What would you like me do, Aragorn? Shall I go to Valinor and forget this world?" The thought that this was exactly what the rest of his kin was doing crossed Aragorn's mind, but even under torture would he not say something so bitter. So he continued being surprised and watchful. "Shall I sail to leave valor, glory and good deeds behind for the sake of endless years doing....nothing?!"
He locked eyes with the ranger than and the other man blinked, sitting slightly up. Good thing that Legolas could not read his mind. He would have discovered amusement at his own uniqueness amongst elves. "We did many things together," he said with a low voice, almost with urgency. The reply was a slow nod. "We CHANGED together. How can I go back on that now? How can I undo what I have become?!" A momentary pause. "I am a stranger to elf and Man alike, now."
That last sad murmur made the man in the bed stir and shift to sit up further. This time Legolas met his gaze and Aragorn felt relief at the fact that instead of sorrow and desperation, there shone rebellion and fury. "That makes you friend to both, Legolas," he said gently. "Like me."
A pleasantly surprised Legolas pushed up his chin and a long time later a smile bloomed on his lips. It was a wonderful smile - it spoke of love, admiration, comfort, hope and sorrow alike. No words were exchanged as time froze and lost its meaning in the room where it meant so different things to its inhabitants. Finally the king offered his hand and Legolas rose from his chair to take it, grasping his wrist. Their eyes locked and the ranger pulled him to sit on the edge of his bed. Many times Legolas had parted from friends and family. None had hurt him more than this one. The urge to suppress his tears was solely for the sake to spare his friend the pain and sorrow. "Stay then," rasped the man finally. Merely minutes had passed. But it had been enough to change two men forever. "Stay, Legolas."
He nodded in approval, bringing up his other hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as another urge to cry hit him. When he looked up Estel was shedding the very tears he was trying so dearly to avoid and Legolas almost laughed out with the envy and adoration he felt for this man. No other would feel so comfortable in crying. "Your kind is foolish, Estel. They need guidance, no doubt," he said, feeling oddly relieved, although he should feel even worse.
Perhaps because Aragorn had a way of lifting his spirits with small gestures alone. Just like the grin that was spreading on his face at that very moment, for instance. "I can only say that I do not envy you in that task, Legolas." He grinned wider, revealing his teeth and despite all, Legolas began to chuckle. Soon Aragorn joined him, adding his coughing to the laughter and the elf shook his head, refraining from patting the king's back - out of deep respect and sheer politeness.
***
She woke up to a feeling of loss. Her eyelids fluttered open and to her surprise, it was still dark. Once again, it took her a while for orientation. The memory floated up to her gently and with evident warmth. Like the warmth of the sun on a block of stone long after dusk. Or the warmth of the ocean long after summer's heat.
Then she frowned with the realization of the lacking warmth beside her. It was enough to make her stir and slowly sit up, looking around drowsily. The chamber was only partly illuminated by the leftover carnival lights and the moon. Legolas was not there. It was somewhat cooler.
She took the blanket and wrapping it on her shoulders, slowly tiptoed so that she would not run into anything. It was even chillier in the living room section. And she understood the reason – the door to the terrace was left agape. She walked towards it and saw him standing by the rail, his black cotton pants on, his upper half naked. His back was turned to her and the moonlight was glimmering on his exclusive skin. He seemed to be in deep thought, but spoke up softly without turning around as soon as she arrived:
"Why did you wake?"
She pushed the door open and stepped out. Her feet ached with the cold of the stones in the chilly night, but she just wrapped her blanket tighter and stepped up to him. "I don't know. I.....felt your absence. Why are you out here?"
He turned to her then, a fabulous smile on his face. "Come here," was his gentle command. Irulan obeyed and stood right before him, enwrapped in her blanket, looking up. The gust slowly played with his silver-blonde hair and his face looked as if it was carved of marble. He looked at her a long moment before he took hold of the blanket around her and pulled her closer. He kissed her cheeks and her neckline with utter tenderness. "You might get ill out here," he whispered into her ear and embraced her a little tighter.
Irulan could not embrace him, since her blanket would fall off, so instead she leaned into his embrace. "I am fine," she mumbled into his chest.
He exhaled a long breath and looked out to Vienna again. Yes.....it felt good to bow to someone mightier than yourself. It was wise to accept the truth. And it was only fitting to know when your world was meant to change. Too long had he waited for this to happen. Longer than most. The stars had moved on, the world had changed, rivers had dried, forests had died and yet he had waited. Nations were born and nations had died, decades had glided into centuries and centuries had dissolved into millennia, and Legolas had waited. On and on and on....until he had forgotten his wait and lost the hope for another.
But...life had not forgotten him. Neither had fate. For here he was, in a room in Vienna, and she was with him. And Heaven knows that it had been worth the wait!
"Let us stay, Irulan," he said suddenly and she stirred awake at that. "Let us not go back. We don't need to. We can just continue until we grow bored and tired."
She lifted her head to lock eyes with him, heavy disbelief on her face. "Are you serious?"
"I am," he said solemnly. "Nothing holds us back. Let us be careless. And free. And just....live."
She exhaled softly and placed her chin on his bare chest, continuing to look at his face while his fingers gently combed her hair back. "What of Cate and Jonathan?"
"Haldir can take my place. Anne can take yours. The Council will accept their votes as ours."
"I have to be there, Legolas," she sighed then. "I owe it to Cate and Jonathan. I have been their friend for so long...I cannot leave them on a day like this." She locked eyes with him again. "I just can't."
He nodded in a frustrated manner. "I understand. It is the right thing to do." His arms embraced her again and pulled her closer as Irulan placed her cheek on his chest once more. "Or so I hope," he whispered, his eyes glued to the waking new day in the horizon. A strange, dark anxiety had touched his spirit and the fingerprints of it refused to disappear despite her warmth or the sight of a new day. "So I hope."
***
