Title: After the Wars

Author: Baliansword

Chapter: 5, "Nightmares"

He rolled over in the middle of the night and let his eyes open. He stared at the shadows around him, the candle on the table having burnt out. The shadows reminded him of that place. Suddenly he sat up, pulling the sheets around him, and held his knees. Sleep would not come so easily to him. Closing his eyes and placing his chin on his carefully positioned knees he began to say what he had been saying over and over again for the past year.

"I am Legolas,'' he whispered," prince of Mirkwood. I am a member of the Fellowship. I am not alone, my friends will come for me soon, and they cannot hurt me. They cannot hurt me. I will not allow it. I will not falter."

Opening his eyes again he looked at the shadows that surrounded him. He pushed the sheets away from his body and crawled out of the bed. It was easy to find his way to the door. Light from the torches in the hallway illuminated the crack at the bottom of the door. The elf opened the door and shut it behind him, taking in a deep breath as he did so.

He looked to the left, and to the right. No one would be up at this hour, or in this wing of the palace at least. Legolas, wearing only the thin shirt and pants Aragorn had given him, felt rather cold in the grand hall. He knew that it was no colder than where he had once been, in fact it was rather warm for the night.

Legolas began down the hall, not sure whether or not he should be out of his room. If anyone found him wandering, what would they do to him? Were the men here all like Aragorn or were they the evil creatures that he had always been warned of? While he was thinking a hand was placed on his shoulder.

Startled, he spun on his heels. Before looking to see even who it was he shoved the culprit down. His fists still balled he looked down at the turned head. Covered in a robe Legolas could not recognize his attacker. As soon as he turned his head, he recognized him well. It was Aragorn.

"Forgive me," Legolas said as he quickly reached down and took Aragorn's arm to help him up. "I did not know that it was you."

"I told you," Aragorn replied once he was on his feet. "You are safe here. No harm will come to you. But I must ask, where were you going?"

Legolas' blue eyes dropped to the floor. He then looked up, through his lashes, and beheld the pure look of innocence. Shrugging, he responded with the best answer he could give.

"I could not sleep." With a softer voice he added, "I was looking for you."

Aragorn put a hand on Legolas' forearm. At first Legolas wanted to pull away from habit of being touched by those that did not deserve to feel his flesh beneath their fingers. However, he stopped before he did so. It was not one of them, it was Aragorn, and if Aragorn would be the last person to touch him that would be fine.

Together they walked down the hall. When Aragorn came to the doors he wanted they turned, and entered a room. Legolas knew that it belonged to no one. He could tell by the smell of the air as they stepped over the threshold. The doors had not been opened in some time. Stopping, Aragorn lit a torch on the wall, illuminating the room.

Legolas looked around the room. The walls were painted in vivid color, with images of the woods. Instantly the woods reminded him of those in Mirkwood. Legolas stepped closer to the wall closest to him. Reaching out, he put a hand on the wall, touching a doe. He then turned his head to the left. The grand bed's posts were made of curving wood and the lightwood on the base was carved with elvish writing. Taffeta cloth hung from the tops of the posts, veiling the white sheets and pillows on the bed.

Everything in the room was made with the same natural wood. It had not been fired, textured, or painted. It was the same simple light crème color wood throughout. It was elvish wood from the forests deep within Mirkwood. Legolas could only blink. The room around him was wonderful.

"It was for you," Aragorn said quietly. "I figured that when the Fellowship was over and the Ring was destroyed we would still be in contact. For your visits I had this room decorated. I meant it to keep you comfortable."

"Its lovely," Legolas said as he turned away from the wall. "It reminds me of Mirkwood very much."

"You should sleep here, perhaps it will help ease your mind."

Aragorn said nothing more. Instead he began to leave the room. Once again Legolas felt warmth leaving the room. This time he could not let this happen. He stepped further away from the wall and as Aragorn began to walk past him he reached out and took his arm.

"Do not go," whispered Legolas.

No more words needed to be said between the two of them. Aragorn leaned forward and pressed his lips against Legolas'. He let his arms wrapped around the elf so that he may pull him close. Legolas kissed him back, wanting to feel the warmth he did when Aragorn was close, wanted to feel all of him. Aragorn's lips against his gave him the only feeling he had felt in the last year, it was as if he had never existed before, he had just began to feel now.

He felt the warmth of Aragorn's lips, and the warmth of his body pressed against his. He felt the new stubble on Aragorn's chin and the hands that held him tight. Leaning closer to him Legolas let one of his own hands lightly graze Aragorn's cheek. Not only did he want him, but he needed him now. He needed him more than anything he had ever needed in his life.

In a sudden passion Aragorn thrust himself forward so that he could grind his hardening erection against Legolas. A deep moan growled in the back of his throat. With his teeth he lightly nipped at Legolas' lower lip, driving them both all the more mad. Tilting his head back, Legolas let Aragorn take complete control of their current situation. It took all of his courage to trust someone other than himself, and even now, he still feared that he was unprotected.

Yet in Aragorn's strong arms this was not true. Aragorn was protecting him now and would let nothing happen to him. While kissing him, Aragorn let a hand slide to Legolas' waist. He pushed his hand upward, lightly touching the skin, and lifting Legolas' shirt. His scarred chest was in moments visible, and even though it looked like one should quickly look away, Aragorn knew that it was beautiful. It was just another part of his Legolas.

Legolas let the shirt fall to the floor and stood trembling as Aragorn took his lips from his mouth and brought them to his chest. Each time he licked at a scar Legolas had to draw in a breath. It caused his lungs to ache but the aching pain was shadowed with pleasure. Aragorn lightly scraped his teeth against Legolas' nipple and in doing so caused the elf to let out a loud gasp.

Rising back to his lips Aragorn ran his hands all over Legolas' bare skin. He then began to slowly push the both of them to the bed. When they reached the edge of the bed Aragorn lightly pushed the elf back so that he may press his back against the flocculent sheets. Legolas let his knees bend and drew them up so that Aragorn may comfortably position his lower torso between Legolas' thighs. As he did this Aragorn pulled away Legolas' trousers.

The king had already let his robe fall to the floor. His bare chest was hard and muscled, gleaming with sweat already. Legolas stared at the planes of Aragorn, thinking of how picturesque he looked above him. The thought of his smoother skin touching that of Aragorn's tighter and rougher skin made shivers run down his spine. Yet the heat radiating between the two of them was really what Legolas was longing for. He wanted to once again feel like he was living, and that he was not just a shell of his former self.

Aragorn kissed each and every scar on Legolas' chest. Each one whispered to him a story as he was kissing away the pain. He brought his lips to a scar that ran from just below Legolas' navel in a diagonal line, going straight down and continuing to cut through the softest flesh of the elf's body, almost cutting through the hardest part of his body now. Aragorn could only manage to wonder at what kind of a weapon had made this. It was duller than a sword, and had been far hotter; perhaps it had been a poker of some kind.

Legolas writhed gently under Aragorn just before he took him in his mouth. The elf let out a loud groan as Aragorn did this. As he tried to breathe in again he realized that his lungs were now burning. He did not know if it was because of the passion he was participating in, or if old wounds were coming back to haunt him. Either way he decided to ignore the pain, it was not that bad, and he wanted Aragorn too much to let something as simple as pain get in the way of things.

As Aragorn wrapped his lips around him Legolas reached down. He managed to put a hand in Aragorn's hair. The world was seemingly spinning. When he could hold back no more Legolas let himself go, crying out Aragorn's name as he did so. Instead of pulling away Aragorn let Legolas' nectar slide down his throat.

Legolas let his hand fall and tried to concentrate on his breathing. Moments later Aragorn brought his kisses back to Legolas' chest, and then his neck. The king lay down beside him and lightly traced a scar on the side of his arm. His eyes scanned the elf, and he tried not to panic, but was becoming concerned with Legolas' condition.

"Are you all right," Aragorn whispered the question.

"Yes," Legolas answered, his eyes closed, his breathing still sharp and uneven. "I have never been better in my life. I think I am far better than I have ever been."

And he was. For the rest of the night he slept in Aragorn's arms. While he slept Aragorn noticed that Legolas' breathing never stopped causing him pain. As the elf slept he put a hand on his chest. It was warm, too warm. He was beginning to fall back into the stages of fever.