Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
Please, please review. No more chapters unless I get 10 reviews, even if story is short..
A/N: I have decided to keep the rape warning in every single chapter, even if the posting did not contain the actual content. This is just so people would keep it in mind when reading so I don't get complaints when it actually occurs. Well, actually, I am not even sure if things will qualify as non-consensual. But anyway, enough babbling and on with the story.
**************************************************************************** **
Chapter One:
"My lord, we have captured one of the enemies' generals," reported an Orc soldier.
His companion added, "We have been torturing him for information, but he proved to be extremely stubborn. Lord Saruman wished us to continue, but we fear the prisoner would die before breaking."
A masculine, gravelly voice answered from behind the silken screens that shielded a lavish bed from the common soldier's eyes, "Ignore Saruman. He is nothing but a fool. I do not know why Father put up with him. Bring the prisoner to me."
After the soldiers left the room, a Man rose gracefully from the bed. He was clad in only a pair of tight, black leather breeches, which cling to his strong limbs like a second skin. Without a shirt, the hard muscles of his torso were in plain sight for all to admire. His unkempt dark hair framed a strong square jaw and elegantly chiseled features, softened slightly by the beginnings of a beard. His steely grey eyes burnt with an intensity that could pierce deep into a person's soul. Everyone about the Man spoke of power, a raw untamed masculine sensuality and vigor unparalleled by any other creature on Middle Earth.
Casually, the Man pulled a black cotton shirt over his head. Black was Aragorn's color. It had always been, ever since his sire commented on how wonderfully black suited him. Within minutes, a naked Elf, covered in blood and dirt was brought into the chambers. With some force, the pathetic creature was thrown onto the floor at his feet.
Aragorn studied the Elf closely. The insolent prisoner returned his stare without flinching, allowing the Man a clear view of the most breathtakingly beautiful hazel green eyes he had ever seen. The Elven soldier was uncommonly handsome. Though stained with blood, his finely sculpted features and well-shaped lips were still visible. Added to that was a very desirable, lithe body, completely with shapely legs and firm round buttocks. Aragorn found himself aching for a taste of the Elf.
Soon. He will be my early birthday present to myself. the Man told himself with a secret smile. Aragorn knew that no matter how they tortured this one, he would not betray his friends. They would have to get their information through other means. It was something that Saruman and his sire could never understand; while pain was a powerful weapon, so was pleasure. Fear may be a useful tool, but affection was ten times more potent. This one would never break under torture; but he would give Aragorn everything if the Man could win his heart. Breaking eye contact with the handsome Elf, the Man ordered his servants to draw a bath and bring him medical supplies and some food. He would begin his work in charming his Elven prisoner this very moment.
**************************************************************************** **
Haldir was too weak to fight when the Man laid him gently into the bath. He was surprised that the water did not sting his wounds. When he first noted Aragorn adding herbs to his water, the Elf had thought it was another form of the endless torture inflicted on him. He never thought the medicine was added to ease his pain.
The Guardian of Lòrien was even more surprised when the Man gently cleansed his wounds before washing his hair. As Aragorn skillfully massaged the Elf's scalp, Haldir could not hold back his small sighs of satisfaction. The Elf was captured three days ago when he offered to lead a small group to act as decoy. Ever since then, he had known nothing but pain. Though Haldir knew he should be suspicious of the Man's intentions, he could not stop himself from being graceful for Aragorn's gentle treatment. This temporary relieve from the intense torture was simply too great a gift to be ignored.
A small part of the Elf believed there was still good in the Man, despite his upbringing. If only there was a way to convince Aragorn of the truth. On the eve of the Man's birth, the alignment of the stars told of the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy; that this newborn babe would hold the destiny of Middle Earth. Unfortunately, the ancient Elves and Istari were not the only ones who could read the stars; Sauron too, though without physical form, knew of Aragorn's potential and wanted to pilfer the Man's powers as his own. Without warning, the Dark Lord struck, murdering the babe's parents and stealing the child to raise as his own son.
Numerous attempts were made to free Aragorn from Sauron's clutches, but to no avail. The baby grew up believing the Dark Lord was his father; that he was Sauron's heir. Aragorn, who was to be the hope of Men, became the Lord of Fire, the leader of Dark Lord's forces; a fierce and ruthless killer who spared no one, leaving a trail of fire and blood in his wake.
**************************************************************************** **
"What's your name?" inquired the Man as he lifted the Elf out of the water and began drying him lovingly.
"Haldir," replied the Guardian of Lòrien without thought. Immediately, the Elf mentally chastised himself for telling the Man. All the Orcs could get out of him were screams of agony with their endless questioning. And here he was, giving Aragorn his name without a fight.
"I am Aragorn. I am sure you know already. You are my guest now; no one would ever hurt you again," said the Man with a winning smile as he probed deep into Haldir's eyes once more.
The Elf found that he could not endure the heat of Aragorn's stormy eyes any longer. He was from Lothlòrien; he was accustomed to Lady Galadriel's piercing gaze that could read his heart. He did not understand why he would shy before a mere Man's stare, even if Aragorn seemed nice and was extremely good-looking.
Pleased with the effect he was having on his prisoner, Aragorn laid the Elf gently onto his bed and began treating his wounds. There were numerous cuts, lashes and bruises marring Haldir's desirable body. The Man made a mental note to take this up with Saruman. He should have been informed at once if any enemy of note was captured. It was his right as leader of the army and his father's heir to decide the treatment of prisoners. By keeping Haldir's imprisonment a secret, Saruman had undermined his authority.
The Man knew the fallen Istari was never content to be a mere follower of Sauron. The wizard wanted the Ring for himself. Aragorn had warned his father of Saruman's treacherous thoughts, but the Dark Lord merely laughed and said an untamed wolf had its use; as long as the owner was careful, there was no need to put the animal down immediately. As the Man respected his sire immensely, he tried his best to avoid conflicts with Saruman. But it was quickly becoming difficult to get along with the wizard.
Besides, if his loyal servants had not informed him, the Elf would have been killed without giving them a single hint of useful information. Though his prisoner had only told him his name, it was enough for Aragorn to know they have captured someone of importance. Haldir was the Guardian of Lòrien, trusted by the Lord and Lady of the Golden Woods. It was very likely that he knew where the One Ring and the other three Elven Rings of Power were.
**************************************************************************** **
Aragorn took his time treating the fair-haired Elf's injuries, stroking him with deliberate tenderness as he applied healing ointments. Haldir was helpless against the Man's gentle assault. He knew where this would lead; he knew he should be fighting Aragorn, but his rebellious body refused to obey. The Man's touch felt so amazingly good; it was like a drug, addicting; each caress left Haldir craving for more. It was not long before his voice too began to disobey the Elf's mind, making little moans of pleasure as Aragorn replaced his bodily pain with physical bliss.
Watching the handsome creature below him moved towards his touch, the Man knew the Elf was his for the taking. His carnal desires warred with his sense of duty to obtain information. In the end, after an intense inner strength, his loyalty to his sire won. Laying a sweet kiss on Haldir's lips, he whispered, "I want you, my beautiful one. But I want this to be as pleasurable for me as it will be for you. I will wait until your wounds heal."
Before the Elf could stop himself, he smiled back fondly at his captor, thinking there was definitely good in the Man still.
**************************************************************************** **
Today, a rare light graced the dungeons of Mirkwood. Lady Galadriel shone like a star in the gloomy darkness of the extensive caverns. It had been 1000 years since she had visited this place. She had never thought she would return; but necessity had driven her here today. Haldir had been captured. The Elf Witch had seen in her mirror how the heartless Lord of Fire would trick the innocent Guardian into betraying their secrets. All would be lost if Aragorn recovered the Ring and returned it to Sauron. There was only one who could change that future; someone locked away in these dungeons 1000 years ago on the charges of kin-slaying.
"There must be another way, my Lady," said Thranduil.
"He is the only one who can bring Haldir back from Dol Guldur. We both know it," replied Galadriel.
"He killed my eldest son, the Crown Prince of my lands. I vowed on Maeglin's grave that he would never see the light of day again," exclaimed the King vehemently.
"I told you before and I will tell you again. He was not the killer," said the Lady as she hurried to the cave that held their last hope.
Her guilt was becoming physically suffocating. It was her fault that the prisoner lost his freedom, that the best she could do was convinced the Mirkwood King to spare his life. Only three knew the truth of the incident; these were the Lord and Lady of the Golden Woods and their daughter, Celebrian, who had departed Middle Earth.
The Crown Prince of Mirkwood had long admired Celebrian for her beauty. Despite the fact that the Elf maiden was already the wife of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, the Prince pursued her with fervor. One night in Lothlòrien 1000 years ago, Maeglin attempted to force himself upon the Elven beauty. In her fright, Celebrian drew her dagger and threatened the Prince not to come any closer. What she did not expect was Maeglin to trip and fall upon her outstretched dagger. The Prince was killed instantaneously.
When her daughter told her of the incident, Galadriel knew they must remain silent to protect the honor of all those involved. Some things happened then that the Lady did not intend. The body of Maeglin was discovered by his youngest brother, the only Elf feared and hated by his own kindred. Naturally, the unfortunate Elf was accused of the murder. Though the Elf Witch could not tell the whole truth, she did try her best to clear Legolas' name. But nothing could change Thranduil's mind once it was made. The King had always hated his emotionless child and secretly wished to be rid of him.
Galadriel was certain that the Mirkwood King had thought imprisonment in the dungeons would be the end of Legolas. It was why Thranduil agreed to show 'mercy' to his youngest son. But the King had underestimated the Prince. Even after 1000 years of isolation in a dungeon, Legolas survived. Elves could not exist in dark, enclosed places like caves and dungeons because they loved the nature and all things that lived. It was from this love that the Elves drew their strength; they would fade from grief if they were separated from all other living creatures. But since the Prince of Ice had no feelings, he did not feel the keen loss the other Elves would have felt at his imprisonment. To Legolas, being in a dungeon was not much different from being surrounded by the beauty of the forest.
**************************************************************************** **
"Legolas, we need your help. We will grant you freedom in exchange for your assistance," said the Lady.
"Why should I help you? You know I don't mind my imprisonment," replied the Prince quietly. He had not spoken to anyone in almost 1000 years; the sound of his voice was very strange to his ears.
"Please, Legolas. If you do not help us, Sauron will regain the Ring and the whole of Middle Earth will be covered in darkness," pleaded Galadriel.
"And you think I care? Long ago, I might still harbor some secret hope that if I did his bidding, ada [father] would like me. These 1000 years had cured me of that delusion," said the young Elf.
"You killed your own brother! What made you think I would approve of that?" yelled Thranduil.
"I did not kill Maeglin. The Lady knows as well as I do who was the real culprit. I will not defend myself if the Lady of Light will not speak for me," replied the Prince softly, with a trace of sadness and maybe even anger in his voice. Galadriel noted these small signs of emotions and considered her next strategy.
"They have Haldir. He will die if you do not help him," said the Lady evenly. She had long suspected that Legolas had some sort of feelings for the Guardian of Lòrien. She was certain Haldir was the reason the young Elf visited the Golden Woods so often.
If there were one name that could arouse the slightest of positive emotions in the Prince of Ice, it would be Haldir. The Guardian was the only person in this world who had ever cared about Legolas, the only one who ever treated the young Elf like a person, not some killing machine. The Prince knew that if he had a normal childhood and if he could feel, he would be in love with Haldir. The older Elf was handsome, gentle, trusting and kind.
Legolas had made it a point to visit the archer whether he had time. Besides the Prince's constant need to ascertain his gentle friend was doing well, spending time with Haldir awoke in him small stirrings of joy; a treasure which the young Elf would always remember as long as he lived. It was during one of these visits that he found Maeglin murdered and lost his freedom.
The young Elf knew then that his fate was sealed. Legolas could not abandon the Lòrien Elf in the hands of the enemy. He would risk his life and become an assassin once more. He would not be doing it for the good of a Middle Earth he cared nothing about; he would be doing it for the only person who had ever showed him kindness.
"Well very, release me," said the Prince quietly as he walked towards the door. Little did Legolas realize he would embark on a journey that would change his life forever.
Please, please review. No more chapters unless I get 10 reviews, even if story is short..
A/N: I have decided to keep the rape warning in every single chapter, even if the posting did not contain the actual content. This is just so people would keep it in mind when reading so I don't get complaints when it actually occurs. Well, actually, I am not even sure if things will qualify as non-consensual. But anyway, enough babbling and on with the story.
**************************************************************************** **
Chapter One:
"My lord, we have captured one of the enemies' generals," reported an Orc soldier.
His companion added, "We have been torturing him for information, but he proved to be extremely stubborn. Lord Saruman wished us to continue, but we fear the prisoner would die before breaking."
A masculine, gravelly voice answered from behind the silken screens that shielded a lavish bed from the common soldier's eyes, "Ignore Saruman. He is nothing but a fool. I do not know why Father put up with him. Bring the prisoner to me."
After the soldiers left the room, a Man rose gracefully from the bed. He was clad in only a pair of tight, black leather breeches, which cling to his strong limbs like a second skin. Without a shirt, the hard muscles of his torso were in plain sight for all to admire. His unkempt dark hair framed a strong square jaw and elegantly chiseled features, softened slightly by the beginnings of a beard. His steely grey eyes burnt with an intensity that could pierce deep into a person's soul. Everyone about the Man spoke of power, a raw untamed masculine sensuality and vigor unparalleled by any other creature on Middle Earth.
Casually, the Man pulled a black cotton shirt over his head. Black was Aragorn's color. It had always been, ever since his sire commented on how wonderfully black suited him. Within minutes, a naked Elf, covered in blood and dirt was brought into the chambers. With some force, the pathetic creature was thrown onto the floor at his feet.
Aragorn studied the Elf closely. The insolent prisoner returned his stare without flinching, allowing the Man a clear view of the most breathtakingly beautiful hazel green eyes he had ever seen. The Elven soldier was uncommonly handsome. Though stained with blood, his finely sculpted features and well-shaped lips were still visible. Added to that was a very desirable, lithe body, completely with shapely legs and firm round buttocks. Aragorn found himself aching for a taste of the Elf.
Soon. He will be my early birthday present to myself. the Man told himself with a secret smile. Aragorn knew that no matter how they tortured this one, he would not betray his friends. They would have to get their information through other means. It was something that Saruman and his sire could never understand; while pain was a powerful weapon, so was pleasure. Fear may be a useful tool, but affection was ten times more potent. This one would never break under torture; but he would give Aragorn everything if the Man could win his heart. Breaking eye contact with the handsome Elf, the Man ordered his servants to draw a bath and bring him medical supplies and some food. He would begin his work in charming his Elven prisoner this very moment.
**************************************************************************** **
Haldir was too weak to fight when the Man laid him gently into the bath. He was surprised that the water did not sting his wounds. When he first noted Aragorn adding herbs to his water, the Elf had thought it was another form of the endless torture inflicted on him. He never thought the medicine was added to ease his pain.
The Guardian of Lòrien was even more surprised when the Man gently cleansed his wounds before washing his hair. As Aragorn skillfully massaged the Elf's scalp, Haldir could not hold back his small sighs of satisfaction. The Elf was captured three days ago when he offered to lead a small group to act as decoy. Ever since then, he had known nothing but pain. Though Haldir knew he should be suspicious of the Man's intentions, he could not stop himself from being graceful for Aragorn's gentle treatment. This temporary relieve from the intense torture was simply too great a gift to be ignored.
A small part of the Elf believed there was still good in the Man, despite his upbringing. If only there was a way to convince Aragorn of the truth. On the eve of the Man's birth, the alignment of the stars told of the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy; that this newborn babe would hold the destiny of Middle Earth. Unfortunately, the ancient Elves and Istari were not the only ones who could read the stars; Sauron too, though without physical form, knew of Aragorn's potential and wanted to pilfer the Man's powers as his own. Without warning, the Dark Lord struck, murdering the babe's parents and stealing the child to raise as his own son.
Numerous attempts were made to free Aragorn from Sauron's clutches, but to no avail. The baby grew up believing the Dark Lord was his father; that he was Sauron's heir. Aragorn, who was to be the hope of Men, became the Lord of Fire, the leader of Dark Lord's forces; a fierce and ruthless killer who spared no one, leaving a trail of fire and blood in his wake.
**************************************************************************** **
"What's your name?" inquired the Man as he lifted the Elf out of the water and began drying him lovingly.
"Haldir," replied the Guardian of Lòrien without thought. Immediately, the Elf mentally chastised himself for telling the Man. All the Orcs could get out of him were screams of agony with their endless questioning. And here he was, giving Aragorn his name without a fight.
"I am Aragorn. I am sure you know already. You are my guest now; no one would ever hurt you again," said the Man with a winning smile as he probed deep into Haldir's eyes once more.
The Elf found that he could not endure the heat of Aragorn's stormy eyes any longer. He was from Lothlòrien; he was accustomed to Lady Galadriel's piercing gaze that could read his heart. He did not understand why he would shy before a mere Man's stare, even if Aragorn seemed nice and was extremely good-looking.
Pleased with the effect he was having on his prisoner, Aragorn laid the Elf gently onto his bed and began treating his wounds. There were numerous cuts, lashes and bruises marring Haldir's desirable body. The Man made a mental note to take this up with Saruman. He should have been informed at once if any enemy of note was captured. It was his right as leader of the army and his father's heir to decide the treatment of prisoners. By keeping Haldir's imprisonment a secret, Saruman had undermined his authority.
The Man knew the fallen Istari was never content to be a mere follower of Sauron. The wizard wanted the Ring for himself. Aragorn had warned his father of Saruman's treacherous thoughts, but the Dark Lord merely laughed and said an untamed wolf had its use; as long as the owner was careful, there was no need to put the animal down immediately. As the Man respected his sire immensely, he tried his best to avoid conflicts with Saruman. But it was quickly becoming difficult to get along with the wizard.
Besides, if his loyal servants had not informed him, the Elf would have been killed without giving them a single hint of useful information. Though his prisoner had only told him his name, it was enough for Aragorn to know they have captured someone of importance. Haldir was the Guardian of Lòrien, trusted by the Lord and Lady of the Golden Woods. It was very likely that he knew where the One Ring and the other three Elven Rings of Power were.
**************************************************************************** **
Aragorn took his time treating the fair-haired Elf's injuries, stroking him with deliberate tenderness as he applied healing ointments. Haldir was helpless against the Man's gentle assault. He knew where this would lead; he knew he should be fighting Aragorn, but his rebellious body refused to obey. The Man's touch felt so amazingly good; it was like a drug, addicting; each caress left Haldir craving for more. It was not long before his voice too began to disobey the Elf's mind, making little moans of pleasure as Aragorn replaced his bodily pain with physical bliss.
Watching the handsome creature below him moved towards his touch, the Man knew the Elf was his for the taking. His carnal desires warred with his sense of duty to obtain information. In the end, after an intense inner strength, his loyalty to his sire won. Laying a sweet kiss on Haldir's lips, he whispered, "I want you, my beautiful one. But I want this to be as pleasurable for me as it will be for you. I will wait until your wounds heal."
Before the Elf could stop himself, he smiled back fondly at his captor, thinking there was definitely good in the Man still.
**************************************************************************** **
Today, a rare light graced the dungeons of Mirkwood. Lady Galadriel shone like a star in the gloomy darkness of the extensive caverns. It had been 1000 years since she had visited this place. She had never thought she would return; but necessity had driven her here today. Haldir had been captured. The Elf Witch had seen in her mirror how the heartless Lord of Fire would trick the innocent Guardian into betraying their secrets. All would be lost if Aragorn recovered the Ring and returned it to Sauron. There was only one who could change that future; someone locked away in these dungeons 1000 years ago on the charges of kin-slaying.
"There must be another way, my Lady," said Thranduil.
"He is the only one who can bring Haldir back from Dol Guldur. We both know it," replied Galadriel.
"He killed my eldest son, the Crown Prince of my lands. I vowed on Maeglin's grave that he would never see the light of day again," exclaimed the King vehemently.
"I told you before and I will tell you again. He was not the killer," said the Lady as she hurried to the cave that held their last hope.
Her guilt was becoming physically suffocating. It was her fault that the prisoner lost his freedom, that the best she could do was convinced the Mirkwood King to spare his life. Only three knew the truth of the incident; these were the Lord and Lady of the Golden Woods and their daughter, Celebrian, who had departed Middle Earth.
The Crown Prince of Mirkwood had long admired Celebrian for her beauty. Despite the fact that the Elf maiden was already the wife of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, the Prince pursued her with fervor. One night in Lothlòrien 1000 years ago, Maeglin attempted to force himself upon the Elven beauty. In her fright, Celebrian drew her dagger and threatened the Prince not to come any closer. What she did not expect was Maeglin to trip and fall upon her outstretched dagger. The Prince was killed instantaneously.
When her daughter told her of the incident, Galadriel knew they must remain silent to protect the honor of all those involved. Some things happened then that the Lady did not intend. The body of Maeglin was discovered by his youngest brother, the only Elf feared and hated by his own kindred. Naturally, the unfortunate Elf was accused of the murder. Though the Elf Witch could not tell the whole truth, she did try her best to clear Legolas' name. But nothing could change Thranduil's mind once it was made. The King had always hated his emotionless child and secretly wished to be rid of him.
Galadriel was certain that the Mirkwood King had thought imprisonment in the dungeons would be the end of Legolas. It was why Thranduil agreed to show 'mercy' to his youngest son. But the King had underestimated the Prince. Even after 1000 years of isolation in a dungeon, Legolas survived. Elves could not exist in dark, enclosed places like caves and dungeons because they loved the nature and all things that lived. It was from this love that the Elves drew their strength; they would fade from grief if they were separated from all other living creatures. But since the Prince of Ice had no feelings, he did not feel the keen loss the other Elves would have felt at his imprisonment. To Legolas, being in a dungeon was not much different from being surrounded by the beauty of the forest.
**************************************************************************** **
"Legolas, we need your help. We will grant you freedom in exchange for your assistance," said the Lady.
"Why should I help you? You know I don't mind my imprisonment," replied the Prince quietly. He had not spoken to anyone in almost 1000 years; the sound of his voice was very strange to his ears.
"Please, Legolas. If you do not help us, Sauron will regain the Ring and the whole of Middle Earth will be covered in darkness," pleaded Galadriel.
"And you think I care? Long ago, I might still harbor some secret hope that if I did his bidding, ada [father] would like me. These 1000 years had cured me of that delusion," said the young Elf.
"You killed your own brother! What made you think I would approve of that?" yelled Thranduil.
"I did not kill Maeglin. The Lady knows as well as I do who was the real culprit. I will not defend myself if the Lady of Light will not speak for me," replied the Prince softly, with a trace of sadness and maybe even anger in his voice. Galadriel noted these small signs of emotions and considered her next strategy.
"They have Haldir. He will die if you do not help him," said the Lady evenly. She had long suspected that Legolas had some sort of feelings for the Guardian of Lòrien. She was certain Haldir was the reason the young Elf visited the Golden Woods so often.
If there were one name that could arouse the slightest of positive emotions in the Prince of Ice, it would be Haldir. The Guardian was the only person in this world who had ever cared about Legolas, the only one who ever treated the young Elf like a person, not some killing machine. The Prince knew that if he had a normal childhood and if he could feel, he would be in love with Haldir. The older Elf was handsome, gentle, trusting and kind.
Legolas had made it a point to visit the archer whether he had time. Besides the Prince's constant need to ascertain his gentle friend was doing well, spending time with Haldir awoke in him small stirrings of joy; a treasure which the young Elf would always remember as long as he lived. It was during one of these visits that he found Maeglin murdered and lost his freedom.
The young Elf knew then that his fate was sealed. Legolas could not abandon the Lòrien Elf in the hands of the enemy. He would risk his life and become an assassin once more. He would not be doing it for the good of a Middle Earth he cared nothing about; he would be doing it for the only person who had ever showed him kindness.
"Well very, release me," said the Prince quietly as he walked towards the door. Little did Legolas realize he would embark on a journey that would change his life forever.