Title: Bound by Desire
Part : 4/5
Author : Swilite
Rating: R
Pairings : Aragorn/Legolas, Boromir/Legolas, Implied Boromir/Aragorn
Warnings : Slash, non-con, bondage, slavery, character death
Disclaimer : I don't own anything, it's just a fantasy we all share. Don't sue. All characters are wonderful figments of Tolkien's imagination.
The length of this chapter should more then make up for the length of some of the ones prior to it (I'm sorry!) I'm not even going to bother telling people to go away, because if you're still here at this point, I guess your as hopeless as I.
-toast to insanity-
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Boromir's anger towards me lasted the better part of a week. During that time, he held daily conferences to which I was purposefully uninvited. That in itself was a benefit, the last thing I felt like doing was pretending to be companions with Legolas' tormentor. However, the King insisted on keeping the elf at his side during the day and by limiting my time in Boromir's company, I was also limiting my time in Legolas'.
The only times I saw the elf were at dinner. Boromir, eager to show off his new consort, had Legolas dressed to match his attire, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind to whom he belonged. Although even I would admit to how regal he appeared, I did not approve, for one had only to look past his outward appearance to see how deeply he was wounded. His stance was hunched, as though he had not the strength to straighten his pose. Only once did I catch his eye, and when I did so I could see that the damage that had been done to him was not only emotional, but mental and physical as well.
At last I could bear my solitude no longer and approached Boromir's study one time when I was positive he would be there. I knocked lightly on the door then pushed it open, proving my intuition to be correct.
The King was bent over a stack of papers, his hair pushed behind his ears to keep his vision clear, and his brow furrowed in concentration. The moment I entered he looked up, watching me through emotionless eyes.
I had long since learned that Boromir did not allow his elf to stray far, and so I cast my eyes around his study until I found his small figure. He sat with his back against the wall and his legs drawn up to his chest. He was curled around his ribs, one arm cradled protectively against his chest, and when he looked up to see who had entered I caught sight of a dark bruise spotting his left cheek. Blood was beginning to stain the shoulder of his tunic, and I wondered what he had done to anger his master. Our eye locked briefly before he bowed his head, obviously ashamed of his condition. My stomach clenched, and I forced myself look at the man who had done this to him.
'I want to apologize, my liege,' I said, fighting to keep my face impassive. 'My behavior last weekend was uncalled for.'
Boromir raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief.
'Your stubborn pride is actually allowing you to admit that you were wrong?' he said, his voice just as emotionless as his face.
I nodded, ignoring the barb.
'I acted out of place,' I told him, keeping my eyes fixed on his face.
Boromir seemed to consider the apology, and at last he nodded. 'Alright. You are forgiven.'
he door, asking for entry. Boromir motioned for me to open it and I did so, stepping out of the way to allow the King to see his visitor.
'My King, your presence is required in the throne room,' the herald informed him. Boromir sighed and got to his feet.
'Shall you join us?' he asked, watching me.
'Of course.'
Boromir gave a small smile and then turned to his elf. His expression faded from amusement to anger, and he jerked his head. At once, Legolas hurried to right himself and jump to his feet, but the wounds he had sustained did not agree with the action and the elf stumbled, clutching the bookcase beside him to remain standing.
A look of utmost disgust appeared on Boromir's features and he quickly turned on his heel, exiting and expecting Legolas and myself to follow.
I caught the elf's eye and it took every ounce of my willpower not to go to him. His face reddened in humiliation and he hurried after his master, eager to avoid another beating for his disobedience. I gave a small sigh and followed the pair, trying to lighten my mood.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------'Boromir,' an advisor I knew by the name of Trevon addressed the King. 'It is necessary for your whore to attend all of our conferences?' He looked at Legolas and the elf trembled.
For many days now I had been present and such meetings, and had come to see what provoked Trevon from speaking out of line. On Boromir's good days, he would spend hours running his hands through Legolas' hair, shifting impatiently for a break to be called. Often, if we ignored him, he would call it himself, and the usher us out of the room so he could do as he had been wanting all day, only to resume the meeting once he was complete.
On his bad days, we sat well away from him, and felt pity for Legolas, who was forced to remain kneeling at his side. When he became upset, he would often accentuate his words with gestures, and Legolas would cringe to avoid being hit. When a break was called on these days, we would return to find tears on the elf's face and blood on his tunic.
Boromir looked at Trevon, shocked that he had made such a request. His shock, however, quickly faded to rage and his face reddened as he prepared for a reply.
Had I not been trying to avoid confrontation with the King, especially because I had already been involved in a spat that lasted many days, I would have sided with the advisor. Fortunately, my silence was not noted, for one of our many guards had bore enough witness to what passed between the King and his slave, and spoke in agreement.
'He is a distraction, my King. I see no reason for him to be present.'
At last Boromir relented, saying that he would find an alternative way for his elf to spend his days.
That night I returned to his study, and upon reaching it I knocked to show my presence, then pushed the door open without waiting for an answer.
Boromir was seated at his desk, but he was not working. He was reclined in the chair, his head tipped backwards, and his hands gripped the edge of the desk with white knuckles. He moved his head to look at me, and his lashed fluttered over cloudy eyes.
My brow furrowed in concern. 'Are you alright, Boromir?'
The King gasped, then nodded. 'Perhaps you could return in a few minutes?'
I narrowed my eyes in bewilderment, silently asking him why he had made such a request. Boromir cast a meaningful glance downwards, directing his gaze under the desk, and I inhaled sharply. I quickly left, closing the door behind me and wandering farther down the hallway so I would not hear the loud moan Boromir would give in a few minute's time.
After I believed I had waited far past a sufficient amount of time I returned, knocking and awaiting an answer before entering.
Boromir gave a small chuckle at my change of mood.
'Thank you,' he said, leaning forwards and placing his head on one hand, his elbow resting on the desk.
'Yes, my lord,' I said, pulling my gaze away from his own, for a wide smile had broken out upon his lips, and he was aware of my discomfort.
Instead of looking at the King, my eyes fell upon Legolas', who no longer remained hidden from my sight. He was resting along the wall, one shoulder pressed into the support. His breath came heavily and one hand rested on his temple. He did not look up to see me, but even from my current angle I could see how swollen his lips were from servicing orally.
The King caught the direction of my glance and laughed, returning my attention to him.
'Actually,' he said, 'I was going to send for you. I have a matter to discuss.'
'What might that be?'
'As you saw, my advisors do not approve of my elf's presence in our conferences. Since you have attended all you needed to, I was hoping perhaps you could take him during the day?'
At this, Legolas looked up. Watching the exchange between the King and myself intently.
'Of course. It will be no hassle for me, I have only paperwork to accomplish for the next while.'
Boromir smiled and sighed in relief. 'My thanks. I was hopping that I would not have to leave him with my guards, you know how bold they may become.'
I laughed in spite of myself, for 'bold' would not cover they're demeanor by half, then sobered slightly.
'I have a few documents on which your signature is required,' I said, recalling my original reason to come here. I handed them to him and leaned over the desk, showing him where to sign.
When we were complete, I straightened, preparing to depart.
'I shall send my elf to your chambers tomorrow,' he said, and I nodded.
The next morning I was awoken by the sound of knocking on my chamber door. Groaning, I rolled out of bed and pulled a bedsheet around my waist, then when to the door. Opening it, I saw that Legolas was accompanied by one of Boromir's advisors.
'Lord Aragorn,' the advisor said in greeting. I grunted in reply, for I did not yet believe that I could formulate a complete sentence.
I opened the door further and motioned for Legolas to enter. He did so quickly, and nearly pulled the door from my hands when he went to close it behind him.
I blinked, trying to clear my vision, and rubbed the back of my hand along my eyes.
'Did I wake you?' Legolas asked, and by the teasing tone of his voice I knew that he was already aware of the answer.
I stumbled back to the bed and fell onto it, pulling one of the pillows over my head to shield my eyes from the sun.
'I think I had far to much wine last night,' I told him, my voice muffled even in my own ears.
Legolas laughed and seated himself at the edge of the bed, rubbing my bare back to sooth me.
'If I knew a sufficient cure for a hangover, I would gladly make it for you.' He said.
'Do not speak so loudly,' I begged.
Legolas laughed quietly and got to his feet, inspecting my room while I gathered the courage to face the day in such a state.
Eventually, I decided that perhaps the day would not be a horrid as my head was attempting to convince me it would. Legolas gave me an encouraging smile and I laughed quietly as I pulled my tunic over my head and finished dressing.
We made our way towards the kitchen for breakfast, and Legolas lounged comfortably along the wall as I persuaded the cook to feed us. At last, she relented and in minutes Legolas and I found ourselves seated alone in the hall with piles of fruit and bread before us.
Legolas ate in silence and I watched him, wondering how long it had been since he had eaten a proper meal, for at dinner he was served only a portion of what his master received, not a full meal. His plate seemed laden with some of everything before us and I wondered vaguely if we had enough food to sustain him. At last, he felt my eyes upon him and met my gaze, one eyebrow cocked in question.
'Why do you watch me?' he asked, but there was no emotion other then mild surprise in his voice.
'Legolas, I adore the sight of you. Nothing that has happened can change that.' I gave him a small smile and watched as his cheeks reddened slightly. He gave a small grunt in reply and continued eating.
Later that day we made our way towards my study, for I could not postpone my duties any longer. I pushed the door open and held it for Legolas, who thanked me quietly.
My work took me much longer then I had anticipated. There were countless treaties and negotiations to be filed, many of which required my signature. An ever growing pile in the corner of my desk were the papers that needed to be translated, and under that were regulations that were midway through being changed.
While I worked, Legolas sat on the window sill, looking past the city at the world that lay beyond. In the distance, the mountains of Mordor loomed, and I wondered what he could see with his elven eyes that I could not.
The day progressed, and I continued to work until the sun was low. Legolas appeared as bored as I, and wandered around my study aimlessly.
'You can help me, if you wish,' I said, an idea coming to mind. The sound of my voice startled the elf and he jumped slightly, for I had not spoken in many hours.
'How so?'
'I have many documents in Tengwar that require translation, you can complete those if you prefer.' Legolas smiled, for it was apparent how much he disliked being useless.
The next few hours went sufficiently quicker, for Legolas was eager to complete the papers I gave to him and by the time we ended, I was shocked at how much we had accomplished.
My days fell into a routine of sorts from then on. Each morning, I would wake early so I could attempt to finish all of the necessary paperwork by the time Legolas was brought to my chambers. If I did not manage to complete them, the elf would aid me, and the remainder of our afternoons would be spent enjoying each other's company.
During the time we spent together, I offered Legolas naught buy my condolences, for I felt that if I were to advance upon him he would become fearful and withdraw. Apparently, they were enough, for the elf flourished under my care, and the hope I gave him during the days were enough to sustain him through the terrors he experienced at nights.
One night, after nearly three a month past our return to Minis Tirith, I was startled out of sleep by the sound of someone knocking loudly on my chamber door. Cursing, I rolled out of bed and fumbled around my bedroom floor until I found a tunic and breeches, then pulled them on and opened the door, glaring daggers at person on the other side.
To my surprise, it was not one person, but three. Boromir's guards waited for me, watching me in a manner that made my skin crawl.
'King Boromir orders your presence.' The first one spoke. They were all a head taller then me, and I knew them for the ones who could nearly best me in a fencing assault in the practice courts.
I sighed. 'At this hour?'
When I hesitated, casting a longing glance over my shoulder at my bed, they entered swiftly and forced me out. I threw my head in surprise, but did not resist for already two of them had grabbed my arms, and the third had started off towards our destination.
I glared, but did naught to evade their grip. They led me down the stone corridors, and to my surprise they passed Boromir's rooms and his study, leading me instead down the passages that took us into the less used areas of Minis Tirith.
I didn't voice my surprise, but followed them in silence. They would not have told me that Boromir ordered my presence unless it was true, for the consequences of fabricating a lie involving the King's word were dire.
At last we reached out intended destination, and the guard leading opened a door towards the end of the corridor. The two holding me forced me roughly inside and I bit my lip to stifle a cry when I tumbled to my knees, held there by their hands on my shoulders.
By this point, I was feeling the first prick of fear, for this was no meeting room, it was a cell devised to hold criminals. The insides were bare but for a pare of shackles secured to the floor in the center of the cell. No windows lined the walls, and a single torch was the source of light coming from within.
A sigh of relief escaped my parched lips when I looked up, noticing Boromir's presence directly before me. Legolas stood at his side, nervously clenching his fists.
Whatever sense of relief I felt at first was instantly crushed when the King looked upon me. His eyes were hard and black, his pupils expanded in the dark. His face was blank and when he saw my condition, instead of become angered with the guards, he smiled.
I risked a glance at Legolas. He was extremely pale and shaking to such an extent I was surprised that he could even remain upright. He could not even meet my gaze, and I had never seen him so upset.
'Strip his tunic,' Boromir ordered, his voice hardly containing his rage. The guards obeyed immediately, and I was too frozen with shock to stop them as they drug me to my feet and roughly pulled my tunic off my body.
'Boromir,' I asked, 'what is the meaning of this?'
The King's rage surfaced, and his eyes flashed in anger. 'Do no speak,' he said, his hands shaking as though his longed to wrap them around my throat.
By now I was sufficiently afraid. Desperately, I tried to catch Legolas' eye again, and when I succeeded, I could see my fear reflected in them.
'Secure him,' Boromir snapped, and though I fought to remain upright, they kicked my legs out from under me and pushed me forwards, holding my arms in place until they could secure the iron cuffs around my wrists.
I pulled back sharply, but it was too late, and my shoulders wrenched. I struggled for a few more seconds, twisting my hands, then gave up, trembling in spite of myself.
Boromir smiled in cruel satisfaction. 'Flog him.' He rolled the words around his mouth, savoring the after taste, his eyes glinting maliciously.
'Boromir, this is madness! Give me at least a reason!' I pulled back again, bucking my body to free myself from the shackles that kept me secure. Legolas fell to his knees, a small sob escaping his lips at the declaration of my fate, and Boromir kicked him in the ribs.
All at once, realization dawned on me.
He knew. Somehow, he had found out about my relationship with Legolas.
The guard stationed before me left my field of view, and the sound the returning footsteps caused carried with them my impending doom. A moment of silence hung heavily in the air, and then the sole warning I received was a rush of air before the leather whip connected with my skin.
The first lash landed across my shoulders and I yelped in surprise. The sharp sting it left in it's wake quickly morphed into unbearable agony, and I clenched my teeth to avoid crying out when a second blow was delivered, cutting across my lower back. A third followed that, crossing over my back and licking down my ribs.
I clenched my teeth and stared at the floor before me, trying to contain my energy, but with each delivered blow I could feel my body weakening. The pain was much sharper then anything I had experienced, for even the most fatal of my wounds I received were in battle when my adrenaline was rushing and I would hardly notice them until after the fight had subsided.
This was not the case. There was no way of escaping the leather whip that stripped my skin, pulling small moans and grunts from my mouth. At last, I closed my eyes tightly, trying to block out the reality of what was happening.
My arms were shaking in sheer agony and I knew not how long they would be able to support me. My knees were braced apart on the cold floor, the unrelenting stone only adding to my discomfort, and I my shoulders were in such pain that I could not even think of pulling at my shackles. A small cry escaped the confines of my constricted throat and I bit my lip, for I would not allow Boromir the luxury of hearing how much pain I was in.
Legolas was crying, his sobs the only sound other then the swish of the whip and the small cries that were leaving my mouth at a remarkable rate. I opened my eyes, wishing to console him slightly, and found that my efforts were wasted, for he was kneeling at Boromir's side with the King's palm turned to him, licking and kissing the man's wrist and fingers in desperation. Among his tears were frantic pleas, begging for Boromir to release me.
My back was on fire, burning with the welts the leather left on my skin. I was strangely surprised that no blood was falling from my back onto the floor at my sides, for it felt as though my back was being torn to shreds. A louder cry escaped my lips as the guard beating me moved to stand at my side, laying vertical stripes from shoulder to hip.
I could no longer restrain myself, and with each lash I arched my back to evade the unbearable pain, crying out as new stripes were laid on top of former ones. My body shook fiercely and I knew it was only a matter or time before my arms gave out. I sent a quick prayer to the Valar, asking them to release me from my torture, and praying for the blackness that lurked just out of my reach.
The blows ceased momentarily as the whip was handed over to another guard, then the beating was resumed at in incredulous rate. They rained down faster, and my throat was beginning to feel raw. I writhed in agony and desperation. I no longer cared how I appeared, and I could no longer hear Legolas' sobs over my own cries.
The guard continued laying lash upon lash on my back, and by this point some of the welts were bleeding freely. I could feeling the stream of red trickling down my sides, and the whip was handed back to the original guard.
This time, the force behind the whip shattered whatever defenses I had, and my trembling arms gave way, collapsing under me. I was unaware that I had been crying until I felt my wet face press into my forearms, alerting me of just how far I had been pushed.
Eventually, my legs gave way as well, and I sobbed, choking on the lack of air, as my prostrate form was whipped again and again. Legolas was screaming now as well, his shrill voice a pitch above my own. My stomach curled, for he was but a child in elven standards, and no one so young should have to witness such a brutal beating first hand.
I cried out in despair, welcoming the blow to my temple moments later when I tumbled into darkness.
Foul liquid was emptied down my throat, causing me to choke and cough at the bitter taste. I attempted to pull my head away, only to find I could not, for a large hand was tangled in my hair and kept me in place.
I struggled briefly, pulling at my binds in despair until my captor withdrew and my body slumped to the floor, my limbs shaking in pain. I cried out as a boot connected with my ribs and the momentum carried me onto my side, forcing another pained cry as the cold stone floor was pressed against my burning ribs.
The room spun around me and I closed my eyes, stilling the tears that appeared at the realization that Boromir was not content with my state just yet. The concoction they had forced me to drink burned my throat and my chest, making even breathing a difficult task. I wondered vaguely if their draught to bring me back to consciousness would prevent my blacking out again, and nearly sobbed at the thought.
The beating was resumed, striking me continuously, but not without strategy. They laid blows where none had been dealt before, unwilling to risk knocking me out again. Before long, my arms and chest were also decorated with red welts and I could find no comfort in the stone below me, wet with blood that flowed freely from my many lacerations.
I could do no more then cry out softly by now, my voice was raw from screaming. With each lash my body jerked against my bonds and I sobbed in despair, wondering how Boromir could watch the beating and know that he was the cause of such pain.
At last, the darkness I had been longing for was within my grasp, and I felt my body go completely limp as unconsciousness took me. Even Boromir could not rouse me this time, for my mortal body teetering precariously close to the point of no return.
The feel of gentle fingers brushing my hair away from my face was the first indication of my return to the waking world. The second was the burning pain that had subsided only slightly since I had fallen incognizant.
'Ai, Aragorn, what has my brother done to you?' A soft voice reached my ears, and I struggled to make sense of the words.
I moaned in pain when my body shifted, and pried my heavy eyes open, trying to focus on the figure before me.
'Faramir?' I asked, the words making sense at last.
'Yes, my friend. It is I.' He was crouched at my side, his eyes dark with worry. The blood along the floor stained his breeches where his knees pressed into the stone, but he did not seem to care nor notice.
I lay still, for I could not muster enough energy to even raise my head. My body was on fire, and every movement, no matter how small, reminded me of the ordeal I had survived.
Faramir continued to run his fingers soothingly through my tangled hair, and I closed my eyes in humiliation, for I could not bear for him to see me in such a state. I respected and valued Faramir's friendship far more then I ever had Boromir's, and for him to see me wounded in such a way made my chest contract, adding the burden of a wounded heart to my many physical hurts.
Faramir's hand shook as he brushed it against my face, and I opened my eyes. Apparently, the pain I was feeling was evident in my gaze, for he gave me a shaky smile.
'You have no reason to be ashamed. My brother abused his position, and apparently his friends as well.' A hint of anger was detectable in his voice.
'Faramir,' I said, my voice raw from screaming, ' you must leave. If Boromir finds you-'
My words were cut short when he clapped his palm over my mouth. 'He will not find me Aragorn, he is dead.'
If I though my brain was reacting slowly to past words, it must have taken an eternity for those to make sense, and even longer to believe them.
'Dead?' I asked in shock.
Faramir nodded. 'His elf murdered him in the night.'
My mind was racing to comprehend. Legolas could not have killed Boromir, that I knew for certain.
'Nay, Faramir, he would not do such a thing.'
Faramir sighed. 'His hands were stained with my brother's blood, and he admitted to stabbing him.'
I lay in silence. This was far to much information for my wearied mind. Faramir watched me in concern, and I was unable to muster the energy to console him.
'I will go fetch a healer, do not move Aragorn,' he rose to his feet and left, his quiet footsteps magnified by the silence.
Thinking was difficult, and I did not have the energy to try to work out what had just been told to me. In my current condition, I feared even to believe that Boromir would not be around to repeat the beating, my body was suffering to badly for such a relief to be excepted. Keeping my eyes open was even a burden, and I allowed them to fall shut with a heavy sigh. My body relaxed and blackness took me again.
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