This is the second chapter. I hope you all enjoy it, will respond to all
reviews in next chapter cos in a hurry right now (need to go to sleep).
Just read and review, ok?
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'Legolas?' Lady Galadriel placed a pale elfish hand upon his shoulder to support him as he nearly fell in his alarming haste to get away from the image of Aragorn. Legolas could feel his heart and insides go all cold as he tried to accept what he had just seen and comprehended from the image.
It was wrong. All wrong. His life was not supposed to go like this. He was supposed to meet a female elf princess of fine bearing and marry her like in tradition. Then, he was supposed to live with her happily and welcome the birth of his children merrily like his father had once had.
He was not supposed to feel desire and love for a good friend who was a mortal. He was not supposed to stumble upon the Lady Galadriel and be questioned about his troubles like a child. He was never supposed to be shown to a basin which could tell him who was his mate. Seeing a good friend's image in it was all wrong. It was a magical object gone wrong.
Besides, Aragorn was a male, like him. Legolas was sure of that. This was just a nightmare gone wrong. A dark image which would be laughed off. But as Legolas looked into the basin once more and then out of the corner of his eye, the Lady, he knew, with dread that it was no mistake. But he persisted.
'The basin lies, Lady. It lies - Strider is but a friend to me,' Legolas vehemently said as he felt himself grow all alarmed at the idea of his mate being Aragorn. He chose escape as the way of explanation and the way out and tried to calm himself. The Lady only sighed and gently turned him to face her. In the light, both their elfish beauty was evident. His masculine yet delicate and hers, feminine yet firm.
'It does not, Legolas - it speaks the truth. Many elves before you have also felt such despair when they see their mates in mortals. Strider or Estel may have once been a friend to you, but surely even you, in the light of recent events, have sensed a difference in your image of him. Do not lie to yourself, Legolas. You have sensed the many things that bridge both your worlds,'
Bridge both your worlds. . .dreams. . .thoughts. . .desires. . .
'T-the d-dreams - you mean to say they are all parts of it? And the fluttery feelings in my heart lately?' Legolas looked vulnerable and small despite his tall stature now that he was confused and helplessly looking at the older elf who gently embraced him like a mother and held him in her arms as she nodded.
'Yes. The fluttery feelings - why, that's just what makes us and mortals the same if we are destined to be mates. Legolas, there is no mistake that Aragorn is meant for you. Estel will also have sensed this feelings as both the mates sense them. In a way, your feelings, if they are extreme, can be sensed by him and him, yours. You are connected,'
Legolas could only listen helplessly. He silently prayed fervently for it to be all a dream.
'But he is human. He cannot live forever like us! Besides, he will never have the thought of me as a lover, as a mate. I have heard that mankind frown upon such immoral sharings as they say,' Legolas mumbled softly as he embarrassingly disengaged himself from the embrace, feeling extremely babyish to be held by an elf old enough to be his mother.
'Such things may hinder a relationship, young Legolas, but I believe if you are truly willing to sacrifice, true love can persevere. It all depends on you, Legolas, although I urge you to tell Estel the truth. Be he brought up by elves, he might understand better than any other human,'
There was silence as Legolas stared away. Then, he stiffly smiled at Galadriel before saying, 'I must take my leave to rest enough for the morning. I have a long journey ahead, my Lady,'
As Galadriel watched his fading figure, she smiled sadly and shook her magnificent head of gold, 'Do not take the same paths as many have taken, Legolas. You are truly worthy of Estel,'
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Meanwhile . . . . . .
'LEGOLAS!' King Aragorn or Strider or Estel or Rider or any of the many names he had bolted upright from the feathery bed he had been lying upon in sleep. His face glistened with sweat as he panted heavily, his dark hair dampened with sweat pasted to his golden skin. His eyes were dilated with emotion as he released the blankets from his iron clutch.
This was just one of the many nights since the breaking of the Fellowship that he had dreamt of his elf friend. The dreams had progressed from mild to serious, starting off with simple hunting trips he realised he missed having with the beautiful elf prince, to heavy, sensual ones like the one he had just jerked out of.
These dreams made him alarmed for he had often been told that dreams were things which revealed your inner heart's real desire. And it was apparent that his heart's desire was none other than the marble-sculptured prince who was currently making his way to Aragorn's castle. He had tried ignoring all those signs - panting, arousal, wetness in his pants, tugging desire at his heart. But they just pestered him.
Now, Aragorn looked warily to make sure that no-one had been awakened by his sudden shout. He had shouted the elven name in despair in his dream for Legolas had left him and his own mind had failed to discern between dreams and real life. Nothing was stirring in the darkness which surrounded his bed. He guardedly touched the sword he had laid next to him. He had laid this sword next to him for as long as he had remembered since the breaking of the Fellowship.
He got up and watched the darkness pensively through a window, thoroughly frustrated by the new turn of events. He was aggravated, both mentally and sexually. Every dream of Legolas had caused much sexual frustration in the young king.
Legolas had never taken up such a symbol in his life but now, the elf was no friend, but a night-dream lover who came and went like the breeze. Mentally, Aragorn was aware of the need to be close to Legolas. Somehow, he knew he would be calmer with Legolas around. And he had needed Legolas' presence so desperately he had taken to lovingly fondle the old elven garment Legolas had once sent to him.
'If only they could see their king now, such a pathetic creature,' he dispiritedly joked to himself as he got a cloth to wipe the perspiration off his face. No king he had ever known was so despondent and desperate over a simple little elf. But Legolas was no simple elf. He wasn't like Arwen, all glamorous and beautifully made up.
Legolas did not spend any effort on brushing himself up (Aragorn knew for during the whole Fellowship, Legolas did things as recklessly as them when it came to hygiene and looks. Legolas never cared, except to do his hair properly). His beauty was natural, so exquisite he could be called [pretty].
Legolas' golden-silver hair would be neatly braided and would catch a shimmer of sunlight every now and then as he strode through the green forests. Legolas' lips would be curved into a thin smile, a permanent fixture unless he chose to smile prettily or mockingly scowl at anyone. Legolas' body was perfect - his shoulders were smooth and slender, his legs slim yet long. His built was slightly muscular with a touch of feminine, so desirable.
'I'm going crazy,' the king muttered as he buried his face in his hands. His last thought in the day was Legolas, his dreams were of the handsome elf prince, and his first thought in the morning was of Legolas. Every single moment he spent alive was dedicated to Legolas. He breathed Legolas, he drank Legolas, he ate Legolas, and all twenty-four hours in his day was fully filled with Legolas.
And now, the very object of all these desire and need was getting closer to his castle at every passing moment.
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The Next Day
'Aragorn, are you listening?' Gandalf boomed into Aragorn's ear, making the day-dreaming king jump up in surprise and then scowl self-consciously in an attempt to conceal his embarrassment at having been caught not paying any attention. But he really could not be blamed for Legolas really was invading all his thoughts and his mind. He had been absently ripping pieces of paper and Gandalf was torn between amusement and annoyance.
'I beg your pardon, I haven't been myself recently,' Aragorn apologised as he poured more wine for the warlock in a bid to make up for his inattentiveness.
'You certainly haven't. You appear to be a love-sick fool. Ripping pieces of paper like that, why, I have only seen Sam do that - and it was when he was in love with Frodo,' there was a pause as the warlock peered closely at the king, making Aragorn wince inwardly, afraid that his inner heart's desire would be revealed, 'Well, are you?'
The cheeky, unexpected question by the warlock made Aragorn stare dumbly at him for a few seconds before reddening as he lied through his teeth, 'No. I don't have the luck,' He added the last bit for better measure. Gandalf frowned and stared closely at him for another painful seconds before Gandalf shrugged and simply said, 'You really shouldn't have rejected Arwen,'
'Look, I'm not a heterosexual - I can't possibly lie to her saying I love her and then in the end, ditch her for an elf - no, man, I mean,' Aragorn blushed even more furiously at his own careless slip of the tongue and busied himself with the latest military strategy as he tried to keep his blush down.
'Aragorn, are you sure you are alright?' the warlock's question served to make Aragorn blush even more and grip the pen he held with strength as he tried to calm his inner turmoil.
'You are preoccupied. Your heart is disturbed, you need guidance. Tell me what disturbs your kingly heart,' Gandalf sharply asked as he leaned closer, making Aragorn squirm inside at the thought of Gandalf realising that he was foolishly in love with Legolas and then telling him about how mortals and elves could never be together.
'I really can't, Gandalf. You are a good friend and teacher to me, but I could never tell you, truly,' Gandalf did not insist, but he merely nodded and patted Aragorn on the shoulder.
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Evening
Legolas stopped his leaping for a minute, looking up at the majestic castle which belonged to his friend-now-mate. In the evening sun, the castle stood in the brink of darkness mingled with light, like the horizon. Its tall white towers gleamed in the setting sun.
'This is so beautiful,' Legolas murmured to himself as he watched the castle in awe. It had been months since he departed from this place and so much changes had taken place.
He was so taken by the majesty he failed to see Aragorn staring at him intently. The innocent beauty of the elf prince was breathtaking and Aragorn barely could keep himself from sighing at the object of his love and desire. Aragorn was so enthralled that his leg accidentally nudged against his horse, making the animal move slightly in trained obedience.
And Legolas was startled.
He heard the sound of horse hooves and turned to see the man who haunted his dreams. Aragorn, handsome and powerful-looking as ever, was seated on a gleaming white horse. Aragorn's eyes pierced through Legolas', as if searching his soul. They just stood there, Legolas could feel the elvish magic cackling in the air around them as he smiled thinly.
He resolved to break the spell.
'Hail King Aragorn!' he said with all the diplomacy of an elvish prince.
'Hail Prince Legolas of Mirkwood!' Aragorn returned the greeting and extended a hand, 'Would you rather leap up behind me or walk the remaining way?'
Legolas was stunned for a moment, not knowing how to react. Should he accept the offer or walk the remaining way? To tell the truth, his springing through the woods at such a fast speed did tire him out so he smiled gratefully and replied, 'Aye, I would,'
Springing lightly up behind Aragorn, Legolas positioned himself comfortably. His subconscious reminded him of the musky male scent from the king in front of him as the horse reared up and changed direction for the castle. As they rode, Aragorn's dark locks kept flowing behind, caressing Legolas' fair face like the wind. Legolas felt the familiar fluttering in his heart and gasped audibly.
'Is everything alright, Legolas?' Aragorn heard the small gasp and feared he had injured the elf.
'Yes, it is. I just accidentally poked myself,' Legolas made up a lame excuse and muttered as he tried to inch as far from Aragorn as possible without falling off the horse's rear. He was afraid of the urges which might make him do something to Aragorn, something like kiss him or otherwise.
He had thought about it, he was not going to risk hurting Aragorn. In an elf-mortal relationship, Legolas knew the relationship could not last forever, for a mortal was bound to die. Besides, they were both males, for heaven's sake! Aragorn was a male mortal and he, Legolas was a male elf. Males were not supposed to be together, but rather females and males.
Meanwhile, Aragorn was trying to ignore the fact that the elf prince's lithe body was warm. Legolas seemed to be warm with all that travelling he had done and Aragorn welcomed the source of warmth. Also, Aragorn noticed that his heart was slightly calmer now that he was close to his object of affections.
By that time, they had arrived and Aragorn stopped the horse, dismounting, and then waited for the elf to do so. Legolas leapt down just beside the king, the space between them just a few inches. Up close, Aragorn could taste the sweet breath from the elf, and see the shimmering silver-gold hair whipping slightly in the wind.
So beautiful. He leaned forwards subconsciously.
Legolas was compelled to lean forwards also and seal the mortal's lips but he was an elf, he knew self-control.
Aragorn lightly took a step forwards and bent in. He thought for a moment that it was desire he saw in the elf's eyes, and gently caressed the elf's face before pulling the elf closer. Just before their lips touched, Legolas backed away swiftly.
'So it really was the leaf I saw in the light,' Legolas said light-heartedly as he extracted a leaf from Aragorn's hair.
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How did you find the second chapter?
R&R.
Ice And Fire Vanessa
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'Legolas?' Lady Galadriel placed a pale elfish hand upon his shoulder to support him as he nearly fell in his alarming haste to get away from the image of Aragorn. Legolas could feel his heart and insides go all cold as he tried to accept what he had just seen and comprehended from the image.
It was wrong. All wrong. His life was not supposed to go like this. He was supposed to meet a female elf princess of fine bearing and marry her like in tradition. Then, he was supposed to live with her happily and welcome the birth of his children merrily like his father had once had.
He was not supposed to feel desire and love for a good friend who was a mortal. He was not supposed to stumble upon the Lady Galadriel and be questioned about his troubles like a child. He was never supposed to be shown to a basin which could tell him who was his mate. Seeing a good friend's image in it was all wrong. It was a magical object gone wrong.
Besides, Aragorn was a male, like him. Legolas was sure of that. This was just a nightmare gone wrong. A dark image which would be laughed off. But as Legolas looked into the basin once more and then out of the corner of his eye, the Lady, he knew, with dread that it was no mistake. But he persisted.
'The basin lies, Lady. It lies - Strider is but a friend to me,' Legolas vehemently said as he felt himself grow all alarmed at the idea of his mate being Aragorn. He chose escape as the way of explanation and the way out and tried to calm himself. The Lady only sighed and gently turned him to face her. In the light, both their elfish beauty was evident. His masculine yet delicate and hers, feminine yet firm.
'It does not, Legolas - it speaks the truth. Many elves before you have also felt such despair when they see their mates in mortals. Strider or Estel may have once been a friend to you, but surely even you, in the light of recent events, have sensed a difference in your image of him. Do not lie to yourself, Legolas. You have sensed the many things that bridge both your worlds,'
Bridge both your worlds. . .dreams. . .thoughts. . .desires. . .
'T-the d-dreams - you mean to say they are all parts of it? And the fluttery feelings in my heart lately?' Legolas looked vulnerable and small despite his tall stature now that he was confused and helplessly looking at the older elf who gently embraced him like a mother and held him in her arms as she nodded.
'Yes. The fluttery feelings - why, that's just what makes us and mortals the same if we are destined to be mates. Legolas, there is no mistake that Aragorn is meant for you. Estel will also have sensed this feelings as both the mates sense them. In a way, your feelings, if they are extreme, can be sensed by him and him, yours. You are connected,'
Legolas could only listen helplessly. He silently prayed fervently for it to be all a dream.
'But he is human. He cannot live forever like us! Besides, he will never have the thought of me as a lover, as a mate. I have heard that mankind frown upon such immoral sharings as they say,' Legolas mumbled softly as he embarrassingly disengaged himself from the embrace, feeling extremely babyish to be held by an elf old enough to be his mother.
'Such things may hinder a relationship, young Legolas, but I believe if you are truly willing to sacrifice, true love can persevere. It all depends on you, Legolas, although I urge you to tell Estel the truth. Be he brought up by elves, he might understand better than any other human,'
There was silence as Legolas stared away. Then, he stiffly smiled at Galadriel before saying, 'I must take my leave to rest enough for the morning. I have a long journey ahead, my Lady,'
As Galadriel watched his fading figure, she smiled sadly and shook her magnificent head of gold, 'Do not take the same paths as many have taken, Legolas. You are truly worthy of Estel,'
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Meanwhile . . . . . .
'LEGOLAS!' King Aragorn or Strider or Estel or Rider or any of the many names he had bolted upright from the feathery bed he had been lying upon in sleep. His face glistened with sweat as he panted heavily, his dark hair dampened with sweat pasted to his golden skin. His eyes were dilated with emotion as he released the blankets from his iron clutch.
This was just one of the many nights since the breaking of the Fellowship that he had dreamt of his elf friend. The dreams had progressed from mild to serious, starting off with simple hunting trips he realised he missed having with the beautiful elf prince, to heavy, sensual ones like the one he had just jerked out of.
These dreams made him alarmed for he had often been told that dreams were things which revealed your inner heart's real desire. And it was apparent that his heart's desire was none other than the marble-sculptured prince who was currently making his way to Aragorn's castle. He had tried ignoring all those signs - panting, arousal, wetness in his pants, tugging desire at his heart. But they just pestered him.
Now, Aragorn looked warily to make sure that no-one had been awakened by his sudden shout. He had shouted the elven name in despair in his dream for Legolas had left him and his own mind had failed to discern between dreams and real life. Nothing was stirring in the darkness which surrounded his bed. He guardedly touched the sword he had laid next to him. He had laid this sword next to him for as long as he had remembered since the breaking of the Fellowship.
He got up and watched the darkness pensively through a window, thoroughly frustrated by the new turn of events. He was aggravated, both mentally and sexually. Every dream of Legolas had caused much sexual frustration in the young king.
Legolas had never taken up such a symbol in his life but now, the elf was no friend, but a night-dream lover who came and went like the breeze. Mentally, Aragorn was aware of the need to be close to Legolas. Somehow, he knew he would be calmer with Legolas around. And he had needed Legolas' presence so desperately he had taken to lovingly fondle the old elven garment Legolas had once sent to him.
'If only they could see their king now, such a pathetic creature,' he dispiritedly joked to himself as he got a cloth to wipe the perspiration off his face. No king he had ever known was so despondent and desperate over a simple little elf. But Legolas was no simple elf. He wasn't like Arwen, all glamorous and beautifully made up.
Legolas did not spend any effort on brushing himself up (Aragorn knew for during the whole Fellowship, Legolas did things as recklessly as them when it came to hygiene and looks. Legolas never cared, except to do his hair properly). His beauty was natural, so exquisite he could be called [pretty].
Legolas' golden-silver hair would be neatly braided and would catch a shimmer of sunlight every now and then as he strode through the green forests. Legolas' lips would be curved into a thin smile, a permanent fixture unless he chose to smile prettily or mockingly scowl at anyone. Legolas' body was perfect - his shoulders were smooth and slender, his legs slim yet long. His built was slightly muscular with a touch of feminine, so desirable.
'I'm going crazy,' the king muttered as he buried his face in his hands. His last thought in the day was Legolas, his dreams were of the handsome elf prince, and his first thought in the morning was of Legolas. Every single moment he spent alive was dedicated to Legolas. He breathed Legolas, he drank Legolas, he ate Legolas, and all twenty-four hours in his day was fully filled with Legolas.
And now, the very object of all these desire and need was getting closer to his castle at every passing moment.
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The Next Day
'Aragorn, are you listening?' Gandalf boomed into Aragorn's ear, making the day-dreaming king jump up in surprise and then scowl self-consciously in an attempt to conceal his embarrassment at having been caught not paying any attention. But he really could not be blamed for Legolas really was invading all his thoughts and his mind. He had been absently ripping pieces of paper and Gandalf was torn between amusement and annoyance.
'I beg your pardon, I haven't been myself recently,' Aragorn apologised as he poured more wine for the warlock in a bid to make up for his inattentiveness.
'You certainly haven't. You appear to be a love-sick fool. Ripping pieces of paper like that, why, I have only seen Sam do that - and it was when he was in love with Frodo,' there was a pause as the warlock peered closely at the king, making Aragorn wince inwardly, afraid that his inner heart's desire would be revealed, 'Well, are you?'
The cheeky, unexpected question by the warlock made Aragorn stare dumbly at him for a few seconds before reddening as he lied through his teeth, 'No. I don't have the luck,' He added the last bit for better measure. Gandalf frowned and stared closely at him for another painful seconds before Gandalf shrugged and simply said, 'You really shouldn't have rejected Arwen,'
'Look, I'm not a heterosexual - I can't possibly lie to her saying I love her and then in the end, ditch her for an elf - no, man, I mean,' Aragorn blushed even more furiously at his own careless slip of the tongue and busied himself with the latest military strategy as he tried to keep his blush down.
'Aragorn, are you sure you are alright?' the warlock's question served to make Aragorn blush even more and grip the pen he held with strength as he tried to calm his inner turmoil.
'You are preoccupied. Your heart is disturbed, you need guidance. Tell me what disturbs your kingly heart,' Gandalf sharply asked as he leaned closer, making Aragorn squirm inside at the thought of Gandalf realising that he was foolishly in love with Legolas and then telling him about how mortals and elves could never be together.
'I really can't, Gandalf. You are a good friend and teacher to me, but I could never tell you, truly,' Gandalf did not insist, but he merely nodded and patted Aragorn on the shoulder.
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Evening
Legolas stopped his leaping for a minute, looking up at the majestic castle which belonged to his friend-now-mate. In the evening sun, the castle stood in the brink of darkness mingled with light, like the horizon. Its tall white towers gleamed in the setting sun.
'This is so beautiful,' Legolas murmured to himself as he watched the castle in awe. It had been months since he departed from this place and so much changes had taken place.
He was so taken by the majesty he failed to see Aragorn staring at him intently. The innocent beauty of the elf prince was breathtaking and Aragorn barely could keep himself from sighing at the object of his love and desire. Aragorn was so enthralled that his leg accidentally nudged against his horse, making the animal move slightly in trained obedience.
And Legolas was startled.
He heard the sound of horse hooves and turned to see the man who haunted his dreams. Aragorn, handsome and powerful-looking as ever, was seated on a gleaming white horse. Aragorn's eyes pierced through Legolas', as if searching his soul. They just stood there, Legolas could feel the elvish magic cackling in the air around them as he smiled thinly.
He resolved to break the spell.
'Hail King Aragorn!' he said with all the diplomacy of an elvish prince.
'Hail Prince Legolas of Mirkwood!' Aragorn returned the greeting and extended a hand, 'Would you rather leap up behind me or walk the remaining way?'
Legolas was stunned for a moment, not knowing how to react. Should he accept the offer or walk the remaining way? To tell the truth, his springing through the woods at such a fast speed did tire him out so he smiled gratefully and replied, 'Aye, I would,'
Springing lightly up behind Aragorn, Legolas positioned himself comfortably. His subconscious reminded him of the musky male scent from the king in front of him as the horse reared up and changed direction for the castle. As they rode, Aragorn's dark locks kept flowing behind, caressing Legolas' fair face like the wind. Legolas felt the familiar fluttering in his heart and gasped audibly.
'Is everything alright, Legolas?' Aragorn heard the small gasp and feared he had injured the elf.
'Yes, it is. I just accidentally poked myself,' Legolas made up a lame excuse and muttered as he tried to inch as far from Aragorn as possible without falling off the horse's rear. He was afraid of the urges which might make him do something to Aragorn, something like kiss him or otherwise.
He had thought about it, he was not going to risk hurting Aragorn. In an elf-mortal relationship, Legolas knew the relationship could not last forever, for a mortal was bound to die. Besides, they were both males, for heaven's sake! Aragorn was a male mortal and he, Legolas was a male elf. Males were not supposed to be together, but rather females and males.
Meanwhile, Aragorn was trying to ignore the fact that the elf prince's lithe body was warm. Legolas seemed to be warm with all that travelling he had done and Aragorn welcomed the source of warmth. Also, Aragorn noticed that his heart was slightly calmer now that he was close to his object of affections.
By that time, they had arrived and Aragorn stopped the horse, dismounting, and then waited for the elf to do so. Legolas leapt down just beside the king, the space between them just a few inches. Up close, Aragorn could taste the sweet breath from the elf, and see the shimmering silver-gold hair whipping slightly in the wind.
So beautiful. He leaned forwards subconsciously.
Legolas was compelled to lean forwards also and seal the mortal's lips but he was an elf, he knew self-control.
Aragorn lightly took a step forwards and bent in. He thought for a moment that it was desire he saw in the elf's eyes, and gently caressed the elf's face before pulling the elf closer. Just before their lips touched, Legolas backed away swiftly.
'So it really was the leaf I saw in the light,' Legolas said light-heartedly as he extracted a leaf from Aragorn's hair.
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How did you find the second chapter?
R&R.
Ice And Fire Vanessa