Title: Elen Sila lumenn' tivelo
Author: JackSparrowsWhore
Rating: R
Summary: ROTK, Beginning with their stay at Edoras, Legolas and Aragorn, somethings are meant to be unlocked. A/L
Warnings: The story contains hot guys doing raunchy things to other hot guys, M/M relationships, if this ain't your thang, scoot!
Disclaimer: I do not own them. Tolkien does. As he rules and such. I have NOTHING.
Beta: The fabbity Laurel who made me do this in the first place.
Archive: Just email jacksparrowsmistress@yahoo.com
Author Notes: Sorry I haven't written for a time. My bad I know. I'm sorry, I had a stupid stupid story due. But anyway the sweep at the Oscars last night inspired me to write on and not leave you to torment and death. Armed with the Beach Boys I will set out to bring you smutty fiction. A/n 2: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~= change of scene or what not. Chapter 5: Wouldn't It Be Nice
"The way is shut. It was made by the dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut."
"I do not fear death." And it was truth he spoke as he plunged headlong into the darkness. He did not fear it for himself....but for those not meant to die...he grieved for them already. The horses had left, severing their final tie to a possible retreat. Aragorn still wished some part of him could turn around and shove Legolas all the way back to Mirkwood, where he would be safe. That was too hard though.
Darkness is easy. It's simpler to let the light diminish into darkness then to fuel the light. It's easier to turn around and walk away. It takes a man to change the world. They would exalt his bravery for journeying into the very jaws of death in the haunted mountains. They would not know how he was simply running away. The dark caves was a desperate cowardly plunge.
Legolas stood squinting as the wind burned his blue eyes. He knew Aragorn didn't want him to be here. He had seen it in the king's eyes when he had appeared that evening with Gimli. Yet Legolas had followed anyway. It's so hard to trust the fleeting. And yet the elf felt his feet move forward into the darkness.
Legolas understood this was the path that needed to be taken by the king, the true heir of Gondor. The prince only wished it could have turned out another way. For he also understood that prophecies can be wrong. And perhaps Gondor would never see their king.
That was the risk. Great things only come from great risks. It's hard to tell someone that. Without telling them why you're them. For it's not merely friendly philosophy. It is easier to run after death.
Aragorn didn't turn around to acknowledge his friend. He was too busy trying to stifle the part of him was happy the immortal had chanced death.
The very air around him reeked of destruction. As if the threads that made up his body were slowly being unwound. White wisps sliced past his face almost scorching him. Some being was herein like nothing he had before encountered.
Aragorn very suddenly felt empty, his spirit washing away into a black sea of despair. But from that sea rose the bleeding serpent of his mortality. It entwined itself around his heart and squeezed. The king's step faltered, the quiet pounding on his ears. Throbbing through his mind. His limbs felt heavy and awkward as the blood thickened within them.
His muscles burned. But somewhere, somewhere else, something smooth and cool brushed past his sore hands. The comfort was so fleeting that at its departure he felt himself start to reel. But the coolness came back and this time clamped around his aching hand and held fast.
Through the pounding of his own blood in his ears came a soft voice that seemed to extinguish all the static within as it swept through his body.
"My lord?"
Irons were removed from Aragorn's body as he blinked away the haze. With his other hand he groped towards the source of his salvation. Grasping a thin wrist almost desperately, he pulled it towards his body. Needing to feel the cold.
Aragorn barely heard the sharp intake of breath as he crushed the slender form to his. The cave seemed to spin violently. He opened his eyes to see blue, Filled with questions. The cool hands grasped Aragorn's face and yanked it forward to collide with soft lips.
Their kiss was savage, almost a challenge. Middle-Earth may have well shattered into pieces and showered behind them, and it could have been rain. Aragorn flicked his tongue across the lips locked onto his, wanting to pry deeper. But heavy boots were thumping down across the stones.
It was the elf who pulled away. Aragorn watched a trickle of blood slide down from his bruised lips. No Evenstar could do that and make it the most erotic sight ever.
Aragorn's own mouth ached, sharp and biting. But what he wouldn't give for that pain to last forever.
"Aragorn..." it was a breathy sigh "I-"
TBC A/N Review!
Author: JackSparrowsWhore
Rating: R
Summary: ROTK, Beginning with their stay at Edoras, Legolas and Aragorn, somethings are meant to be unlocked. A/L
Warnings: The story contains hot guys doing raunchy things to other hot guys, M/M relationships, if this ain't your thang, scoot!
Disclaimer: I do not own them. Tolkien does. As he rules and such. I have NOTHING.
Beta: The fabbity Laurel who made me do this in the first place.
Archive: Just email jacksparrowsmistress@yahoo.com
Author Notes: Sorry I haven't written for a time. My bad I know. I'm sorry, I had a stupid stupid story due. But anyway the sweep at the Oscars last night inspired me to write on and not leave you to torment and death. Armed with the Beach Boys I will set out to bring you smutty fiction. A/n 2: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~= change of scene or what not. Chapter 5: Wouldn't It Be Nice
"The way is shut. It was made by the dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut."
"I do not fear death." And it was truth he spoke as he plunged headlong into the darkness. He did not fear it for himself....but for those not meant to die...he grieved for them already. The horses had left, severing their final tie to a possible retreat. Aragorn still wished some part of him could turn around and shove Legolas all the way back to Mirkwood, where he would be safe. That was too hard though.
Darkness is easy. It's simpler to let the light diminish into darkness then to fuel the light. It's easier to turn around and walk away. It takes a man to change the world. They would exalt his bravery for journeying into the very jaws of death in the haunted mountains. They would not know how he was simply running away. The dark caves was a desperate cowardly plunge.
Legolas stood squinting as the wind burned his blue eyes. He knew Aragorn didn't want him to be here. He had seen it in the king's eyes when he had appeared that evening with Gimli. Yet Legolas had followed anyway. It's so hard to trust the fleeting. And yet the elf felt his feet move forward into the darkness.
Legolas understood this was the path that needed to be taken by the king, the true heir of Gondor. The prince only wished it could have turned out another way. For he also understood that prophecies can be wrong. And perhaps Gondor would never see their king.
That was the risk. Great things only come from great risks. It's hard to tell someone that. Without telling them why you're them. For it's not merely friendly philosophy. It is easier to run after death.
Aragorn didn't turn around to acknowledge his friend. He was too busy trying to stifle the part of him was happy the immortal had chanced death.
The very air around him reeked of destruction. As if the threads that made up his body were slowly being unwound. White wisps sliced past his face almost scorching him. Some being was herein like nothing he had before encountered.
Aragorn very suddenly felt empty, his spirit washing away into a black sea of despair. But from that sea rose the bleeding serpent of his mortality. It entwined itself around his heart and squeezed. The king's step faltered, the quiet pounding on his ears. Throbbing through his mind. His limbs felt heavy and awkward as the blood thickened within them.
His muscles burned. But somewhere, somewhere else, something smooth and cool brushed past his sore hands. The comfort was so fleeting that at its departure he felt himself start to reel. But the coolness came back and this time clamped around his aching hand and held fast.
Through the pounding of his own blood in his ears came a soft voice that seemed to extinguish all the static within as it swept through his body.
"My lord?"
Irons were removed from Aragorn's body as he blinked away the haze. With his other hand he groped towards the source of his salvation. Grasping a thin wrist almost desperately, he pulled it towards his body. Needing to feel the cold.
Aragorn barely heard the sharp intake of breath as he crushed the slender form to his. The cave seemed to spin violently. He opened his eyes to see blue, Filled with questions. The cool hands grasped Aragorn's face and yanked it forward to collide with soft lips.
Their kiss was savage, almost a challenge. Middle-Earth may have well shattered into pieces and showered behind them, and it could have been rain. Aragorn flicked his tongue across the lips locked onto his, wanting to pry deeper. But heavy boots were thumping down across the stones.
It was the elf who pulled away. Aragorn watched a trickle of blood slide down from his bruised lips. No Evenstar could do that and make it the most erotic sight ever.
Aragorn's own mouth ached, sharp and biting. But what he wouldn't give for that pain to last forever.
"Aragorn..." it was a breathy sigh "I-"
TBC A/N Review!