Chapter 7: The Lone Horseman
Wow, I got this chapter finished pretty quickly. Well, inspiration was coming. WHILE, OF COURSE, ON ALL OF MY OTHER STORIES IT ISN'T! *fumes* But that's okay. I'm almost done with this one. ^_^
Yes, I know I changed the rating. But there is reason. There will be a bit of a lemon (or is it lime? I know there's a difference but have never really gotten it straight…oh, whatever, you get the point) in this chapter. Just thought I'd give the heads up!
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Legolas woke to find an arm wrapped around him, a head near his shoulder where he slept. The elf started and jumped up, letting out a short yelp. Beside him, Estel stirred and moaned. He let out a sigh and sat back down, clutching his beating heart.
"What is it?" Estel asked in his half-awake stage. Legolas looked down at the human and smiled. He had not changed much since Legolas last saw him, other than the fact that he now had a bit of a beard, though not much, and he was stronger of limb then before, when he was a bit slight, though not by any means weak. He shook out his long hair and sat up also, pulling Legolas to him. Legolas shrugged his shoulders.
"What time is it?" he wondered. Sun shone through his window, and birds called to each other outside. It felt like an eternity since yesterday, when he found Estel awaiting him. Since then, they had not left the room and had never truly been more than a few feet apart.
"I would say about noon. I woke around daybreak, but you slept soundly in your little elvish land and I let you be," Estel responded. "I do hope there was nothing of importance for you to attend to last night." Legolas laughed and kissed Estel once more.
"If there was, there was reason to miss it." Estel put a hand to Legolas' cheek and felt tears forming in his eyes again. He blinked a few times. He had done enough crying last night as they spent most evening pouring out their tales to each other, any waking moment, it seems, they could remember apart. Estel did not complain though.
Suddenly, he looked at the elf and saw something stunning in him for the first time. Estel stared upon Legolas many a time before and admired his beauty, but never as this. It was as if he saw with new intensity the long mouth, his bright eyes, his pale skin. His hair fell down his shoulders in a golden wave. The way that there were little creases between his eyebrows from his confusion at Estel's sudden silence, all of it took on new meaning. But truly, what caught the man's eyes were the ears, those angular ears, delicate, fragile, and beautiful. Estel felt ashamed of his own, so rounded, so plain, without life. An elf's ear spoke of beauty and mirth. Estel reached out with one hand and gently touched the tip of the ear. Legolas gasped and shivered. Gingerly, Estel traced the line of the ear down to the elf's face. Legolas closed his eyes. It burned to have anyone touch his ears, but for Estel, he would allow that joy.
Estel's mouth closed around Legolas'. His whole body burned now, as Estel slowly leaned down. Legolas slipped backwards and onto his back. He opened his eyes to see the man looking down on him, lust glowing in the grey irises above him. Estel reached for the bindings on Legolas' tunic and quickly undid it. It slipped off the elf, and Estel reached for Legolas' leggings...
"My lord!" a voice called from the hallway. Estel jumped away, suddenly looking at half-undressed Legolas. Legolas looked down, blushed slightly, and reached for his tunic. Estel stammered a few unfinished words.
"My lord," the servant called again. Legolas coughed. "Your father wishes to speak with you." Legolas gulped, found himself slipping, and fell off the bed to the floor. He scrambled to his feet and threw the tunic over his head while frantically motioning for Estel to hide for now. Estel staggered away, glancing back at Legolas, who now opened the door.
"My lord," the servant said, bowing. "Your father wishes a quiet meal with you. He is in his dining room." She bowed again and quietly left at Legolas' nod. He glanced around before darting back into the room.
"My father wants to see me," he whispered to Estel, who peered around the entrance to Legolas' back room. Estel nodded.
"I'll wait here," he promised. Legolas smiled to him a bit nervously, felt heat rising in his cheeks, and scampered away, bolting down the hallway to his father's own wing of the palace. He ran down a flight of steps, taking them two at a time. His heart pounded in his chest as he reached a large inner courtyard with tall trees and a bubbling fountain in the center. He paused by it to glance at his reflection, for in the next doorway was his father's rooms. He was a disheveled mess, his hair in disarray, his tunic crooked, his face flushed from running and his previous encounter with Estel. His heart beat two times faster at the thought. His body tingled as he remember those gentle hands, the frantic way that Estel jerked at his clothing, his lips, his eyes. He shook his head to clear it of such thoughts for now. Taking a deep breath, Legolas smoothed back his hair and straightened his tunic while stepping into the rooms beyond.
He entered into a large hall with three smaller corridors off it. One led to a study, a grand study with more books then in all of the halls of Mirkwood. One led down another way towards the king's private chambers. And another led to an array of sitting rooms, one of which was used for private meals of the king. Legolas headed in that direction, breathing slowly to try to calm his heart.
"Ah, my son," his father said as he entered the dining hall. Thranduil rose from the great oak table and beckoned at a seat beside him. "Come and sit, will you? I have a meal coming for us, being that you have not had food, I surmise, since yesterday morning." He smiled knowingly as Legolas sat down. He glanced around at the room, looking everywhere but at his father. No amount of royal training could cover the emotions spilling out onto his features. He could not make eye contact with his father, no matter what. He would hate Legolas for this, if he ever knew about Estel. What would he think? What would he say?
"So Estel has returned then?" began Thranduil. Legolas jumped in his seat and looked at his father. Thranduil was grinning now. "Do not think I haven't noticed. You are not as glum as usual, and it was obvious when Lord Elrond was here that there was something between you?" Legolas coughed into his hand. "Do not avoid me, son. I do know."
"And what do you have to say of it, father?" Legolas questioned politely. Thranduil's smile faded, and he leaned back in his chair. Not a good sign, Legolas knew. His father would be silently measuring his words now, picking the best for his upcoming speech. Legolas felt a pit growing in his stomach. Either a slow and painful reprimand or a long speech on the bonds of love. Both ways Legolas dreaded. When was the food coming?!
"I would not have expected to see my only son turn this way," the king said. Legolas steeled himself for the oncoming assault. His father shook his head. "But you love him, do you not? I see it in your eyes, that delirium, the passion; I can remember every moment of it. But I have words of caution for you." Even worse, Legolas thought, he does not stand on either side. "Estel is...I am not sure how to say this. I can understand that he is as good of a...man...as any, and I say nothing against his character, but in my heart I feel it is unsafe for you to love him."
"You also felt unsafe to allow me outside for a full three years of my life," Legolas countered. His father recoiled as if Legolas had struck him, but the elf did not flinch. What did he mean, risky loving Estel? Estel was devoted, probably blind now, yes, as was Legolas, but he would not break this bond. He would not sway, ever!
"Son, that was different. Now, though, it is not only thought. There are reasons that you should not love Estel, reasons that have to do with his future. You see...oh, I should not speak this to you, but I must, even if Elrond vowed me to silence. But you must not mention it to Estel ever! He knows what he is, a Dúnedain...oh, but you don't..."
"Father, I know," Legolas butted in coldly. Thranduil nodded.
"So you know his history. Good, that is good; it will make this much easier. You see, Estel, or Aragorn, as is his proper name, is not just a Dúnedain. He is descended from a powerful line: the line of kings." Thranduil paused to let that sink in. "Yes, Aragorn is of the lost bloodline, the heir the throne of men. In him runs the blood of Númenor. He is the last of that bloodline, Legolas, my son."
"There are no kings, though. His destiny is to then rise above them and come to the throne once more in Gondor?" Dread filled Legolas as he felt the course of this conversation. "And..."
"Yes, my son, you see," Thranduil said, his mouth twitching at one corner. "The last of that bloodline. Men now are a failed race. Estel is not. He has the strength of old in him! But he shall be the last, if this road continues. Legolas, there is darkness in my heart, not just for you, but also for him, and for all men. Legolas, leave Estel before your love grows beyond that point! He is the heir to the throne. What if no heir follows him? He is the hope of men, for it is foretold that he shall lead them to greatness. You cannot let him be the last." Legolas hung his head. How was he to have known? Estel, the heir to the throne of Gondor? It did not surprise Legolas, for Estel could have a kingly bearing about him many a time. But he could not face that to be true.
"Father," Legolas said his voice soft. "I do wish I had known before I had bonded so closely to him. These wounds will not heal as quickly as you might think if I do what you ask of me." With that, he stood, malice in his eyes, and stormed out of the room.
"Legolas, heed my words!" Thranduil called back. "Do not fall to selfishness and allow men to stay in their dark ages now. Legolas, I only give you warning."
***
"My father knows," Legolas whispered to Estel as they prowled in the forest that night. There was little light to see by, but they needed none here, when they could feel each other's hands and hear the other's breath. Estel glanced to the sky and nodded.
"I thought he might. Elrond picked up on it also." Legolas sat down suddenly, leaning on a tree, his head in his knees.
"But does Elrond give you blessing?"
"He respects my decision, whatever it might be, though for some reason I think those words was hard for him to say to me." Legolas nodded. He knew what Elrond's hesitation was now. "What about your father? You came back in quite a mood." Estel kneeled in front of Legolas and lifted up the elf's head.
"My father...put simply, would rather die than see this," Legolas muttered. His whole body shook. "He said he "understood" that I was infatuated now with you, but that I should take it as a passing thing, nothing permanent." He laughed then, the sound spreading through the woods. "Oh, there is much he does not see! My father is blind in many ways." Estel smiled.
"Well he doesn't need to know," Estel whispered. "What does it matter of his blessing? Truthfully, we shall run soon anyway, correct? You don't fear that now, do you?" Legolas opened his mouth to say something but shut it. He would not break that promise to his father. He shook his head tentatively.
"Not at all, Estel, meldanya," he replied. "Still…"
"There is too much to see to pass it by," Estel said. "Legolas, of course I will not force you to go with me. But I want to see the world around me. With you." Legolas smiled and craned his neck up, placing a short kiss on Estel's cheek. Estel reached down and stroked away a piece of hair from Legolas' face. He cupped the elf's chin in his hand. He bent down lower. Legolas' heart fluttered in his chest as their lips met, the thirst he felt earlier in Estel's kiss increasing tenfold. "Anything to do with you." Estel pressed against the elf, and Legolas felt himself pressed against the tree. The bark drove into his back, but he ignored the pain, engulfed within his own passion.
Estel gently prodded Legolas' lips with his tongue. The lips slowly opened, and his tongue explored the cavity of Legolas' mouth. Legolas touched the bottom of Estel's with his own tongue, sending a shiver down the man's spine. Estel pulled away, looking down into Legolas' face. Legolas slowly opened his eyes. He moaned. The hands of the man reached for the fastenings of his tunic, slowly undoing them, sliding over his soft skin. Legolas reached up, blinded by lust, and slipped the man's shirt away. It fell from his shoulders beside him. Legolas fell lower, his back leaving the tree, until his head hit the ground beneath him. The chill night air hit him, but he did not bother with it.
Without hesitation, Estel stripped Legolas of his leggings. Legolas called out to Estel, desperate, lust filling the sound, until it turned into a moan, moaning of that one name over and over. Estel's pants slipped away easily enough, leaving their flesh exposed to the world and each other's touch.
Estel grasped Legolas' mouth in his own again. He ran his lips down the elf's neck, playfully biting at it and causing Legolas to yelp. He traced the collarbone with his tongue and felt his way down to Legolas' heart. There, he put his head.
"I can hear your heartbeat, quickening, faster and faster," he murmured. Legolas reached up and grabbed Estel's soft hair, entwining his fingers in it. "I hear it beating in my ear, one with my own." He moved and bit at the tip of the elf's ear, causing the elf to tighten below him. But Legolas did not complain. Estel pressed down against Legolas, head on his chest again, as if he meant to crush him against the ground. The elf groaned. The man was so soft. Estel ran a hand down Legolas' stomach, down, lower, lower…Legolas groaned. "Yes, so quick now, dear, dear Legolas." Legolas felt dizzy now. He tried to find a thought, anything but the burning throughout his limbs, but the fire consumed every part of him.
"Estel," Legolas moaned as he pulled up on the hair, bringing Estel's lips back to his own. He licked them with his tongue. Estel's mouth clamped over his. He slid his hand behind the elf's back, running them along the curved surface, skin so delicate, pale and shining bright in the moonlight below him. He sat up and looked down at the elf, a hand on each side of his head now. He was the golden prince for sure, even in the darkness. The golden prince now, desperate, reaching up and running his hands along Estel's cheeks, down his chest.
"My prince," Estel whispered as he collapsed into Legolas again. He ran his face down Legolas' chest, inhaling deeply, sliding down him. "My golden prince…"
***
Legolas woke the next morning to find a blanket draped across his stiff shoulders. He grumbled about something and sat up. Around him, the forest glowed with the light of daybreak. Birds swooped overhead. Something scurried away beside him.
"Good morning," Estel said from where he sat in the tree branch above Legolas. Legolas craned up his head. Estel was already dressed. "I got the blanket, in case you would like to know, after you fell asleep. That entrance into your room is quite handy, I must say." Legolas laughed and stood now, wrapping the blanket around him to ward off the early morning chill and in some sense of modesty. During the day, they yet might find other elves.
"How long have you been awake?" Legolas asked. Estel coughed, making Legolas set his hands on his hips. "Well?"
"This forest is not safe, correct?" Legolas was so good at glaring, Estel noted. "Well, I mean…I was concerned! There was something out there, and I had already left you alone in the forest. I could not go back to sleep." Legolas sighed and bent down to where his clothes lay in a heap. He dropped the blanket and quickly dressed.
"You should not have done that," he said through his tunic that he slipped into. "I would have heard if any creature came. I am an elf, you know. You don't have to watch my every move." Estel shrugged and jumped from the branch, landing in an uneasy crouch.
"Well, I was merely concerned with my lover."
And so they walked back to the palace, playfully arguing with each other over many matters. But in their hearts they knew now that every previous promise, every word spoken of eternity, was true and would remain true. Last night sealed that. Not only did they link their hearts but their flesh. Lovers until the end of the earth, no matter what stood between them, if even the Valar cursed their bonding.
But maybe eternity was a bit too long.
***
"Aragorn, I was gone for two days!" Legolas shouted at the man across from him. Yes, Aragorn, that was Legolas' secret name for him, the one they used in private, instead of his childhood name of Estel.
"Two days while it was said that war raged in Dol Guldur! You rode to the south, Legolas, closer to the battle!" Aragorn retorted. Legolas threw up his hands in exasperation.
It had been three years since that night in the forest, three years since their love truly blossomed. Aragorn had not left Mirkwood since then, never venturing away as he wanted long ago; he remained true with his lover. Legolas sighed and turned away, looking out the window of their room to the snow falling outside.
"I needed to get out, Aragorn. I had to get out," he repeated. "Can't you understand me?" Aragorn stood up angrily, glaring at the back of the elf.
"You left without me knowing. You rode south, to the battle. You were in danger and did not mention it to me!"
"Must I tell you every aspect of my life?" Legolas roared back. He whirled around, fists clenched by his sides. "I have put up with you before, my love. You are protective of me, fretting about my actions and whether or not I am in danger. Can you not give me a moment's peace?" Aragorn put a hand on his lover's shoulder, but Legolas shook it off with a cold laugh. "Don't try to butter up to me now, trying to act all pitiful. I am sick of this, Aragorn! I can take care of myself if I want. Do I watch over your every action! No, and that is so you can have a life. We both have lives. Don't try to control mine."
"I am not controlling it! Dammit, Legolas, don't you see that I worry about you. You are my love, precious, dear, golden prince…" Legolas laughed.
"So that is it then," he sneered. "I am the golden prince. A prince unable to protect himself. Aragorn, you have grown so strange in the past months, becoming even more watchful of me then before. What is wrong with you? I am not helpless, not at all. In fact, I know these woods better then you ever will, and I have increased senses to my benefit."
"Oh, never mind!" Aragorn whispered harshly, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed.
"What is it then, if it is not that?" Legolas challenged, crossing his arms. Aragorn looked up towards the sky in a beseeching manner before looking the elf in the eyes.
"What family do I have, Legolas?" Aragorn questioned. "What true family do I have? None, Legolas. My father is gone, my mother dead. I do not know a family. Elrond took me in, but I was always alien, different, alone. Legolas, you are the closest thing to a family of some type. You are one of the few people in this world I love, and the only I love with the whole in my heart. I'm a lost soul, Legolas. I…do not want to lose my only grip on the world around me. Legolas, when around you, the feeling that I do not belong is gone. I do not need answers to who I am! I am content just to be with you, near you, living happily by your side. Everyone dear to me has died. That is why I cannot let you go, Legolas! I cannot let you slip away from me, too." Legolas stared at the man in front of him in horror. Aragorn hid his face in his hands, shaking uncontrollably. "You would not know of what I speak, for you have always had a place in something. I have never had my own place, except as your lover. Maybe I do overreact." He could go no further, but he needed not to. Legolas sat beside the man and cradled his head against his chest, gently murmuring to him.
"You overreact, I have no doubt of that," Legolas said coldly. His voice softened, "but I did not know. Aragorn, is that why you are lost now?" Aragorn looked up. He had shed to tears on his face, but his eyes glistened in the reflected light from the snow.
"What place do I have?" he asked again. Legolas put a finger to his lips.
"You need no other place then to be my lover," he muttered. Unease grew in his heart, but he buried it lest Aragorn sense it and question. He rose now. "Aragorn, I am sorry I ever questioned you. Please, I would like some time alone though. I will return soon." With that, he left; trying his best to keep his composure though inside was turmoil.
Aragorn watched Legolas close the door before falling back on the covers of the bed, burying his face in the pillow. He had said too much, he knew. But he had to speak his mind, had to get that off. Over the past months, he had seen Legolas, so calm, so at ease, at home somewhere. Aragorn had grown to know Mirkwood as his home, but it was not…home. Nothing was to him, he realized with horror. He had no home, no home but that forgotten one of his past long ago, buried deep in the lands to the north with the Dúnedain Rangers.
What if even that was gone? He did not know if there were any more Rangers left, if they had perished, if they had scattered. For most of his life, he lived in the dark of them, wondering, questioning. He had no home and few memories of his previous life. There was nothing for him.
"But I am a lover," he reminded himself. "Legolas loves me and is faithful, as I am to him. I am a lover."
But being a lover was never enough. It was something but not that solidity that truth would give Aragorn. He was in the dark about his past and his life. He was shrouded in mystery, mystery that Elrond had only hinted at here and there. Aragorn knew there was more to his story then he had been told. He was not just a stranger from the north, no. He felt that in his very soul, buried deep within him, was something darker then he expected.
Aragorn closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep, troubled by the only memories he had of days long past.
Legolas returned at dinnertime. He had servants bring both Aragorn and his meal up to his room. They ate in relative silence, sometimes commenting about the snow outside, about the creatures in Mirkwood, new discoveries, but always petty things.
Night fell over the world. The snow ceased to fall with the closing of the day. Legolas closed the curtains over the window with the full moon glaring up at him off the snow. Aragorn sat on the bed, watching him, covers wrapped around his sensitive human body. Their plates sat discarded on a table, both of them half-eaten. Legolas sat back down on his side of the bed.
"I am going to sleep now," he told Aragorn, who nodded.
"Sounds good. Today was long, and I am weary. Good night, my beloved." They kissed each other good night and settled down under the blankets. Legolas blew out the candle beside him, plunging the room into the darkness.
"Goodnight."
The lone horseman
Riding across the plain
Alone, alone
What do you seek?
Legolas woke to the sound of a mournful song playing through his head. The lone horseman, that was odd. He felt near to tears just at the melody of it. So lost, so forlorn, the lone horseman riding. He reached over to wrap an arm around Aragorn. He would like that song.
His arm fell against sheets, crumpled sheets. Legolas gasped and sat upright. The place where Aragorn should have just been stirring was vacant. There was so man there to roll over and smile at the elf. He gulped back a lump in his throat. Maybe Aragorn was just gone for a walk, Legolas said to himself. He did that often. He slowed the beating of his furious heart and slipped his legs off the bed. Aragorn was just out for a morning walk.
"What…?" Legolas breathed as he felt a piece of parchment beneath his foot. He lifted it up and unfolded the paper, well creased and worn. On it was a note, the ink smearing in some places where tears graced it.
My beloved Legolas,
I have gone now to find myself, out in the world beyond. I am sorry that I must depart from your love, but I have no home and no meaning. I have thought long of this, and I must discover for myself who I am. If only I could have you by my side, but this is my own pilgrimage, my lone journey across the great expanses of Middle-Earth to where I may yet find the truth. Mayhap I stumble upon it.
But do not fear. We shall meet again, my dearest elf. Remember that years matter not to us. They are not a counting of love. You shall not fade, radiant, beautiful elf of mine. Legolas, your image is forever engraved in my mind and my heart.
May I be there in yours. You might not forgive me for this, and I am sorry if that is the case.
But I still love.
Estel, Aragorn o Legolas
"No," Legolas muttered. "NO!" He sobbed and clutched the note to his chest. "NO, NO, NO! You are not gone, Aragorn! NO!" He ripped the parchment in half, tearing the paper into little shreds and scattering it around him. "You have not gone!" he implored. "I know you have not, Aragorn. It is a lie! A LIE!"
"Legolas?" Thranduil called. His father opened the door and rushed to Legolas' side. Legolas fell onto his shoulder and wept, calling out for Aragorn. "Shhh, my son, I know what has become him. His horse is gone from the stable. The grooms reported that to me this morning. Legolas, he must leave when he must. He could not stay…"
"Estel!" Legolas cried. "Oh, Estel, what have you done? Gone to look for yourself? Why did you leave me? How could you dare leave me?"
"Legolas, we must all part with the ones we love…"
"You do not know!" Legolas spat. "Get away from me, you. What could you say to me of comfort! My love is gone! Promises broken, the vows taken now gone! I would have gone with him to the ends of the earth! Aragorn! ARAGORN!" Legolas wrenched out of his father's grip, hysterical with rage and fear, shaking with every emotion possible.
He ran from his room and out of the palace, not stopping until he was miles away and his tears has stopped and his legs could take him no further. Aragorn had dared to desert Legolas. That is what it was. Could he not give warning that this would come about in the end? Then Legolas remembered Aragorn's behavior. The man had mentioned home, lost, being lost. He was out to search for himself, yes. But was he not at home in Mirkwood? There would always rest tension between him and Thranduil, but for all of Legolas' knowledge, Aragorn had come to ignore that. Thranduil kept a respectful distance.
Legolas unclenched his fist and found a shred of the parchment. Aragorn's tears stained it. Legolas clutched it to his chest. He held it to his face. He could smell the man on it, smell Aragorn. Legolas fell to his knees in the snow around him and let the parchment drift, his mind too weak to think any longer. He closed his eyes and fell forward, unable to move one muscle. His very being ached with fatigue, far past the bounds of normal physical aching.
And the parchment caught a gust of wind and blew lazily by Legolas and into the unknown white landscape beyond.
The lone horseman rides into the sunset
Searching, praying
He seeks too far away
But he will find
And his horse canters along
The world rushing by in a white whirlwind
A whirlwind like that of his heart
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You know, I just realized that in the last chapter, they had just gotten back together, and now they are gone again! Hehehe…pretty odd. But I had that HUGE block of time where nothing happened, and I didn't feel like sticking any fluff in there. I had enough already. I definitely have enough in this story, being that it is my longest yet! *cheers for myself*
The next chapter will be the last one in the story! And after that comes the sequel, Prophecies and Convictions, which I have fully finished.
Oh, and I must thank my beta…after forgetting to do it for so long. *sweatdrop* Hehehe…but many thanks to her for betaing this chapter!!!
Please review and make me feel special!
{~.^}