Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, its great. Just a bit of
clarification on a couple of points: when I talk about Aragorn's elvish kin
I don't mean that they're blood relatives. What I'm referring to is that
they are his adoptive family, adoptive kin if you like, and that they
raised him. With regards to Arwen, I'm not sure whether she is going to
appear or not. It really depends how long this turns out to be, and whether
she would fit in well with the story-line. Hope you guys like the third
chapter! Here goes!
Chapter three:
Legolas refocused his eyes, pulling back from the dream world and his slumber, and quickly narrowed them against the morning sunlight. He rose, rubbing his shoulder, to pace to the balcony outside his room. There he began his morning stretching routine, wincing occasionally at a twinge from his shoulders. Damn Aragorn. Why did his shoulders have to cramp like that?! Now I'm getting 'phantom pains'. Although I'm not sure that 'phantom' is the right word!! Hearing a gentle tap at his door, Legolas pivoted quickly and went to open it. Aragorn stood there, still smelling faintly of the cinnamon oil the elf had used on his aches the night before. The man was fully dressed, and attired in his riding gear. "What's this my dear elf?" he asked in mock-horror, "Still only half dressed? You have only just finished your morning stretches by the look of it!"
Legolas grinned. "Indeed. If you had not kept me up so late last night seeing to your shoulders I would have been knocking on your door hours ago." The elf's smile widened. "In fact, you should be thanking the Valar I was not awake." He turned serious. "It is long past time this quest began, Heir of Gondor. We truly can not afford the few days we have lingered here."
"I know." The man sighed. "But what can we do?"
"Very little." Legolas replied. "Come, sit down Aragorn, it will take me only a few seconds to dress." The Prince of Mirkwood moved quickly to a set of draws against one wall of his room and opened them, muttering all the while about the "damned servants" and how he could never find anything once they had handled it. Even as he grasped his riding gear, pulling it from its hiding place, Aragorn, who had been lowering himself gingerly into a chair, lent back with a sigh, and banged a particularly tender spot into the chair's back.
Lurching to his feet and clutching at the offending muscle, the man reeled of a sting of curses that definitely were not appropriate for utterance by royalty. At the exact same moment, Legolas dropped his clothes into the draw and stumbled back, also clutching the same spot as Aragorn. He too began to swear, into the now sudden and startled silence. Stupid shoulder! I'm going to get you for that human! Legolas' swearing trailed off, although the tirade continued in his mind. Even that was silenced by the knowledge that Aragorn was watching him, and wondering. He turned to his friend, preparing to make any excuse, but the look on the other's face warned that nothing but the truth would suffice. "Legolas," the ranger's voice was deadly calm, "is this another effect of the 'bond'? Another effect that you perhaps forgot to mention?" His anger dissipated not at all, he glared accusingly at his beloved friend. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
"To be quite honest, I did not know, until last night, when the pain in your shoulders started killing me." A corner of Legolas' mouth twitched slightly, but with no humour. "My ministrations were as much for my benefit as for yours." Aragorn moved towards him, grabbing his shoulders determinedly, and opened his mouth. What ever he was going to say vanished as he flinched with Legolas, at the pain jabbing through both their shoulders. Legolas' look of wry amusement caused the human to shake his head.
"So then. It appears that I will suffer just as much from this as will you."
"Less," the elf joked, "for my kind are not half as clumsy as you humans." Aragorn smiled, but, while thinking up a suitable response, he became distracted by the source of his aggravation. Legolas still only wore his leggings, and his long hair trailed over the hands on his shoulders. His well muscled frame glinted cream and gold in the light, and he seemed made of the finest substance possible. Aragorn lifted his hand, allowing the shining strands to slide over his fingers. Legolas wore an unreadable expression, although the man could have sworn he felt his shoulders quiver.
I must keep still, and calm, I fear he will flee like a startled bird, were I to touch him. He may well do so anyway, once he realises he is caressing my hair. Aragorn's hand moved up, to brush Legolas' cheek, but when the elf parted his lips slightly and shuddered he snapped back into himself. Crimson, he quickly grabbed two handfuls of the elf's hair, and, brandishing it under Legolas' nose he declared, "It needs plaiting. I will do it for you."
"Very well." Legolas' voice, thick with laughter, floated over his shoulder as he turned obediently to allow Aragorn more access to his hair. "This should be interesting." Payback for the shoulder's my friend...
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Chapter three:
Legolas refocused his eyes, pulling back from the dream world and his slumber, and quickly narrowed them against the morning sunlight. He rose, rubbing his shoulder, to pace to the balcony outside his room. There he began his morning stretching routine, wincing occasionally at a twinge from his shoulders. Damn Aragorn. Why did his shoulders have to cramp like that?! Now I'm getting 'phantom pains'. Although I'm not sure that 'phantom' is the right word!! Hearing a gentle tap at his door, Legolas pivoted quickly and went to open it. Aragorn stood there, still smelling faintly of the cinnamon oil the elf had used on his aches the night before. The man was fully dressed, and attired in his riding gear. "What's this my dear elf?" he asked in mock-horror, "Still only half dressed? You have only just finished your morning stretches by the look of it!"
Legolas grinned. "Indeed. If you had not kept me up so late last night seeing to your shoulders I would have been knocking on your door hours ago." The elf's smile widened. "In fact, you should be thanking the Valar I was not awake." He turned serious. "It is long past time this quest began, Heir of Gondor. We truly can not afford the few days we have lingered here."
"I know." The man sighed. "But what can we do?"
"Very little." Legolas replied. "Come, sit down Aragorn, it will take me only a few seconds to dress." The Prince of Mirkwood moved quickly to a set of draws against one wall of his room and opened them, muttering all the while about the "damned servants" and how he could never find anything once they had handled it. Even as he grasped his riding gear, pulling it from its hiding place, Aragorn, who had been lowering himself gingerly into a chair, lent back with a sigh, and banged a particularly tender spot into the chair's back.
Lurching to his feet and clutching at the offending muscle, the man reeled of a sting of curses that definitely were not appropriate for utterance by royalty. At the exact same moment, Legolas dropped his clothes into the draw and stumbled back, also clutching the same spot as Aragorn. He too began to swear, into the now sudden and startled silence. Stupid shoulder! I'm going to get you for that human! Legolas' swearing trailed off, although the tirade continued in his mind. Even that was silenced by the knowledge that Aragorn was watching him, and wondering. He turned to his friend, preparing to make any excuse, but the look on the other's face warned that nothing but the truth would suffice. "Legolas," the ranger's voice was deadly calm, "is this another effect of the 'bond'? Another effect that you perhaps forgot to mention?" His anger dissipated not at all, he glared accusingly at his beloved friend. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
"To be quite honest, I did not know, until last night, when the pain in your shoulders started killing me." A corner of Legolas' mouth twitched slightly, but with no humour. "My ministrations were as much for my benefit as for yours." Aragorn moved towards him, grabbing his shoulders determinedly, and opened his mouth. What ever he was going to say vanished as he flinched with Legolas, at the pain jabbing through both their shoulders. Legolas' look of wry amusement caused the human to shake his head.
"So then. It appears that I will suffer just as much from this as will you."
"Less," the elf joked, "for my kind are not half as clumsy as you humans." Aragorn smiled, but, while thinking up a suitable response, he became distracted by the source of his aggravation. Legolas still only wore his leggings, and his long hair trailed over the hands on his shoulders. His well muscled frame glinted cream and gold in the light, and he seemed made of the finest substance possible. Aragorn lifted his hand, allowing the shining strands to slide over his fingers. Legolas wore an unreadable expression, although the man could have sworn he felt his shoulders quiver.
I must keep still, and calm, I fear he will flee like a startled bird, were I to touch him. He may well do so anyway, once he realises he is caressing my hair. Aragorn's hand moved up, to brush Legolas' cheek, but when the elf parted his lips slightly and shuddered he snapped back into himself. Crimson, he quickly grabbed two handfuls of the elf's hair, and, brandishing it under Legolas' nose he declared, "It needs plaiting. I will do it for you."
"Very well." Legolas' voice, thick with laughter, floated over his shoulder as he turned obediently to allow Aragorn more access to his hair. "This should be interesting." Payback for the shoulder's my friend...
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