Underneath It All

Disclaimer: Aragorn and Legolas, not to mention Boromir, belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and his estate.
A/N: This is totally and completely AU and includes mpreg (be warned). There is no Sauron, no Ring and no Fellowship.
Summary: Aragorn is the King of Gondor and Boromir is his Steward and lover. Aragorn is unmarried but as a King he needs an heir. He makes an arrangement with King Thranduil; he will marry Thranduil’s son Legolas and form an alliance with Mirkwood. Legolas is fertile and can give Aragorn the heir he needs. Aragorn and Legolas have never met before, and this story begins with their first meeting in Minas Tirith.
Enjoy! :)

‘thoughts’


Underneath It All


“Are you ready, Aragorn? The guests have arrived.”

Aragorn nodded absentmindedly, still looking out of the window. “In a minute, Boromir.”

The other man sighed impatiently and laid his hand on his lover’s shoulder. “Aragorn, you know very well that you cannot make them wait for you; that would be extremely impolite and make a very bad first impression on your husband-to-be. Come on now, it is time to meet him.”

“I know very well, thank you, Boromir!” Aragorn snapped. “My future husband and his delegate are waiting for me and I should make my appearance very soon.” He met his lover’s gaze stubbornly. “The only problem is that I feel like I’m making a terrible mistake. I shouldn’t be getting married to anyone, not when my heart belongs to another. It is not right.”

“Hush, don’t say that”, Boromir murmured and rubbed the King’s tense shoulders. “You have no other choice; you have to marry and produce heirs to the throne. I cannot give you children you need. You have to marry him and get him pregnant. It doesn’t mean that the two of us cannot be together anymore. We just have to be more discreet in the future.”

Aragorn pulled back from Boromir and frowned. “That’s not what I meant. Well, partly it is, but what if the Elf expects me to love him and be faithful to him? And what if he falls in love with me? I’m not sure if he knows that this is to be a marriage of convenience and nothing more.”

“But he has agreed to marry you, has he not?” Boromir asked calmly.

“I don’t think he was given much say in this. I got the impression that Thranduil never asked his son his consent for our betrothal”, Aragorn replied and sighed. “The Elf, Legolas, is very young. He has reached his majority only this spring.”

Boromir nodded thoughtfully and bit at his thumb. “Well, I hate to say this, but it is too late to be having second thoughts. You have made an agreement with King Thranduil to marry his youngest son and he has arrived as was agreed. Now you should go and welcome him.” Boromir hated speaking those words. He absolutely hated the idea of his beloved marrying someone else, making love to someone else, getting someone else pregnant with his child. He wanted to tell Aragorn that he should call the wedding off and send the little Prince back to the forest from whence he came. But the Steward in him knew that this was the right course to take. Aragorn had to marry and reproduce in order to secure the future of his kingdom. So Boromir silenced the lover and let the Steward speak instead. “Come, Aragorn. Let us not make them wait any longer.”

Reluctantly Aragorn nodded and followed his Steward. Boromir, of course, was right. He had a responsibility for his kingdom and for his people. He couldn’t let his heart come before the well-being of Gondor and its inhabitants.

The King let his mind wander while they were on their way to the Reception Hall. He had been in correspondence with King Thranduil for a long time and they had finally come to agreement on the matter of Aragorn and Legolas’ marriage earlier that year. ~You shall marry my youngest son and the youngest Prince of Mirkwood. His name is Legolas and he comes of age this spring. He is able to bear children and can give You the heir You want; I can assure You that my son is a virgin and comes to You unspoiled. In exchange of my son I want Your assurance of our Kingdoms’ alliance. I want to be sure that if Mirkwood is attacked Your men will come to our aid. If You can give me that promise, You can have my son.~

That was what Thranduil had said in his last letter. Aragorn hadn’t particularly liked the way the Elf King had spoken of his son; like he was a property that could be sold or exchanged for something else. Aragorn had heard from many that King Thranduil only really loved his riches and gems and that even his own children were nothing but commodities for barter to him.

Unfortunately he had never told him more about Legolas. Aragorn couldn’t help wondering if there was a particular reason for this secrecy. Did the King fear that Aragorn wouldn’t be interested in marrying his son if he knew more about him? Maybe the Prince was ugly and King Thranduil was ashamed of him? King Elessar smiled a little at this thought. Elves in general were beautiful and an ugly Elf would indeed be a rarity. His smile vanished as he realised that even if Prince Legolas was hideous there was no way he could cancel the wedding at this point. King Thranduil would probably have his head for the insult.

‘Please, please, please, let the Prince be pleasant to look at’, he prayed to whatever deity was listening. He knew it was shallow and he was a bit ashamed, but he also knew that he could not make love to a person who wasn’t attractive at least in some way.

He realised that they had arrived at the Hall and that Boromir was looking at him expectantly. “Now, be kind and courteous to the Prince”, Boromir replied and straightened the collar of his robe. “He has come a long way and must be tired after the journey.” Aragorn nodded and entered the Hall.

There were several Elves and men alike, all waiting for his arrival. They all looked at him expectantly when he arrived and stopped talking. Aragorn felt very self-conscious at that moment. He steeled himself and walked to his throne. “Welcome, my honoured guests from Mirkwood. Please forgive me for being late; it was not my intention to keep you waiting.” His eyes searched the crowd, trying to locate Prince Legolas. He gave up after realising that it was useless since he had no idea whatsoever what Legolas looked like. “I hope your journey was uneventful and pleasant. I wish you all welcome to Minas Tirith and I hope you will enjoy your stay.”

The crowd murmured approvingly and Aragorn sighed in relief inside his mind. An Elf approached him and bowed. “I am Tiríon, the chief advisor of King Thranduil. I was sent to escort Prince Legolas here safely.”

Aragorn bowed, too and spoke respectfully. “Thank you, Tiríon. Now, you must be weary from your journey. If it meets with your approval, you shall all be shown to your rooms and will have a few hours to rest before the dinner.” Tiríon nodded gratefully and Aragorn continued, “And if you wish for refreshments do not hesitate to ask the servants to bring them to you.”

“Thank you, Sire, for your hospitality”, the Elf said warmly and bowed once again. “We shall meet at the dinner, then. Prince Legolas will be there, also.”

Aragorn nodded and watched as the guests started to walk out of the Hall, following the servants that would show them to their chambers. He looked at the Elves very carefully, trying to figure out which one of them was Legolas, but none of them looked like someone who has just come of age. Granted, it is very hard to tell of an Elf if they’re young or old, but Aragorn believed strongly that all the Elves now present had reached their majorities several millennia ago.

‘Oh well, it does not matter. I will meet him in a couple of hours nevertheless.’ He had to admit, though, that he was very intrigued now. ‘I really wonder what the mysterious Prince is like.’

“It seems that the Prince wasn’t here after all”, Boromir remarked casually behind him. “I wonder if he’s going to keep hiding from you until the wedding.”

Aragorn turned around and glanced at his lover briefly. “I was told that he will attend the dinner this eve. I expect to meet him then.”

“Are you curious about him?”

“Well don’t I have a reason to be?” Aragorn asked a bit stiffly. “I’m going to take him as my husband in a fortnight. You can hardly blame me for wanting to find out what my future spouse is like.”

“Of course not”, Boromir said calmingly and then lowered his voice. “Come with me, I know how to make you feel better and help you get rid of that tension”, he said in a seductive tone. Aragorn smiled and was more than happy to follow his Steward/lover from the Reception Hall. Boromir’s tone of voice promised him many satisfying moments of being in the receiving end of his oral talents.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


“Do you know which one is him?” Boromir asked as his eyes scanned the Elves that were seated in the Dining Hall. They hadn’t entered the Hall yet, for the King always was the last to arrive, but it didn’t mean that they couldn’t take a look at the people who were already in the Hall.

“He’s not here yet”, Aragorn replied. At Boromir’s confused gaze he gestured at the seating that was placed next to his chair. “He is the guest of honour and is therefore seated beside me. The chair is empty so that can only mean that the Prince hasn’t made an appearance yet.”

“Everyone else has, it seems”, Boromir said after a while. “Perhaps we should already go in. I would not be surprised if the Prince didn’t show up at all.”

“Why’s that?”

Boromir snorted silently. “King Thranduil didn’t tell you anything about his son, apart from his age and sexual inexperience, and the Prince wasn’t present when you welcomed his party here. Obviously there is something wrong with him and they are trying to keep it a secret in fear of you not wanting to marry him after you saw him.”

“I have been thinking the exactly same---“ Aragorn forgot the rest of his sentence when he saw an Elf entering the Hall, alone. He was very slender, clothed in light blue tunic and matching leggings, his long, silken hair was blonde and flowing free, having only two little braids, each behind a delicately pointed ear. Aragorn swallowed with difficulty. Suddenly his mouth was very dry.

The Elf then turned and Aragorn saw his face properly. He couldn’t help gasping aloud. The Elf was stunning! It was obvious that he was young, he held an air of innocence and sweetness, and his posture was that of a young adult’s. Aragorn’s gaze was drawn to his lips as the Elf licked them nervously. ‘What a luscious mouth! And look at those pouty, pink lips; they’re just begging to be kissed!’ The Elf blinked his eyes rapidly, almost as if he sensed that someone was watching him in fascination. ‘His eyes are so blue, I’ve never seen anything like them before’, Aragorn thought in wonder. ‘And those lashes are impossibly long! I wonder if they ever get tangled.’ He realised that he sounded like a love-sick fool but he cared not. ‘But who is this beauty? I must find out who he is!’

“Aragorn?” Boromir asked worriedly as the King stopped in mid-sentence. He followed his lover’s gaze and also noticed the young, blonde Elf. “Who is that? And why doesn’t he go and sit with the other Mirkwood Elves?”

No sooner had he said those words when the Elf indeed went and sat down. He didn’t sit with the rest of the Elves, at the middle of the table, though, but on the chair that was placed next to the Kings. Aragorn’s eyes widened in realisation. “Because he’s not an ordinary Mirkwood Elf; he is the Prince.”


TBC…