Gondor's King

Chapter 16

“Legolas” I awake gasping for breath his name upon my lips just as it was all those years ago. I allow my head to stop spinning and my breathing to regulate again before I slowly open my eyes and glance around the bedroom. It is dark, the curtains drawn and only a few candles lit over the fireplace. Cautiously I feel the fabric of the bed sheets under my palms and I rejoice at being in my own bed. It is only a moment before the events of the night engulf me and I stiffen as I remember the spoken words of promise that Breachtian whispered to Elrohir in the pool. It all makes so much sense now. Breachtian’s long absence was time spent courting with Elrohir and it was them that night in Mirkwood when the guards were attacked. They were the ones searching for Legolas, but why? To force a union between Mirkwood and Gondor, to secure an immortal king for the throne, so that Breachtian would not have to secure heirs, as is his duty? It makes perfect sense in every regard but for one, of whom they had secured for Legolas to marry. My daughters name instantly flashes into my mind and I find myself edging my way to the end of the bed, desperate to go and see Elrond and Legolas. This cannot happen, Aratula was never meant to be involved in any of this and I will be damned if her brother drags her into it.

Standing weakly from the bed I sway a little at the dizzy spell but wait long enough for it to subside before I struggle with my robe and move gingerly towards the entrance of my room. I curse my every weakened step as I stumble almost like a child would upon taking its first tentative steps. The hallway is thankfully quiet of anyone and I move a little quicker along the narrow passages that I know lead towards the guest wing where Legolas’ room is. I struggle up a few steps and force myself to rest at the top of them as dizziness threatening to engulf me again. As it subsides I continue along the hallway, some of the doors are open but the occupants are already fast asleep inside. My breathing is heavy as I struggle for air but I smile triumphantly at seeing Legolas’ ajar door at the end of the hallway. There is a thin slither of light emanating from within and I struggle towards it pausing half way to fall onto my knees and crawl unable to further hold myself up. Crawling the remainder of the short hallway to the door I fall exhausted against the wall unable to do anything other than breath. I can see inside the room and I smile weakly as I recognise Legolas’ figure standing by the mirror, as he combs his long blond hair. He is dressed in a thin white sleeping gown, which every so often becomes transparent in a particular light, illuminating his sculptured body beneath.

The image of perfection does not last long however as Legolas turns sharply towards the balcony in his room as a darkened figure appears upon it.

“Who are you, how dare you presume to enter my room in this fashion.” Legolas hastily pulls his robe around him and I watch helplessly as the darkened figure steps into view from the balcony.

“I do not presume to do anything in my own home Legolas Greenleaf.” I attempt to claw my way to my feet as Breachtian smiles wickedly at Legolas but I am too weak to do anything but watch helplessly.

”Breachtian? Whre yre you doing climbing into my room? And it is not your place to drop my title when addressing me, your father would have your head if he heard you.” Legolas turns his back on my eldest son and I want to cry out to him to protect himself but can only watch as Breachtian launches himself at Legolas and catches him une pie pinning him to the bed with a warriors grip. Legolas struggles wildly against Breachtian shocked by the attack from my son. However because of the unprepared situation Legolas is in he stands little chance of escape as Breachtian staddles his body and pins his appendages down with strategically placed hands and his body weight.

“But my father won’t hear me little elf, and that is all that matters.” Lying my head limply against the wall I listen as Breachtian sneers at his captive, Legolas is no longer struggling, a looks utterly confused now at my son’s actions.

“What are you doing Breachtian? Why do you hold me against my will?” Although I can hear a little panic in Legolas’ voice he still remains calculatingly calm as he addresses my son who has freed one of his own hands and is avidly stroking it through Legolas’ long golden hair that is fanned out on the pillow underneath him.

“You are as pretty as he said you would be. As fair in features as any woman, yet no one would mistake you as being all male.” My fists clench in defiance as I watch my son dip his head to Legolas’ crushing his lips brutally against the elf’s. I hear Legolas’ arrogant objection to the kiss but it is muffled as Breachtian clasps Legolas’ jaw in his firm grip forcing him to respond in kind to the violation. Legolas begins struggling again and Breachtian yelps and jumps back from Legolas, breathing heavily. “You will regret that.” In the dim light of the room I can see a glistening trail of red that slowly drips down Breachtian’s chin from his lip, where Legolas has just bit him. I feel every inch of the backhand that Breachtian slams across Legolas’ face causing his head to snap sideways into the pillow. Legolas shows no pain however as he simply turns his head back to look directly up at my son, his eyes darkened to sapphire blue and his face a stony wash of little emotion. “I have searched for you since I learnt of your very existence. The tales told in bars by the men who fought in the wars, of the King’s male lover. A man whose name was heard screamed by the king himself upon the darkened battlefields.” I find myself feeling pale again, tears already springing to my eyes as I watch Legolas continuing to stare blankly up at Breachtian. “He loves you with every fibre of his being, so blinded that he would lead us all to ruin and death to have just a single night with your body pressed against his. Mother always knew she was second best, duty to her people, being the only thing that kept her here with us and when that was done she left.” I close my eyes briefly to the scene in the bedroom my heart already broken from hearing my son diveall all that was my secret these past 50 years.

“Then what is this to do with me? You speak as if I had some part in this to play, when I did neither sanction or encourage your fathers love if indeed the tales they tell are true?” Legolas’ reply is cold and devoid of all emotion. As joyous as these past few days have been in his company I fear the hopes that I allowed to bloom have now faded with the reality of the truth from his lips. Breachtian laughs cruelly and shakes his head in despair, his hand now tearing at the thin nightgown on the elf below him.

“Aye you are arrogant as he said you would be too. For I know more about you than anyone Legolas Greenleaf. I have been across the length and breadth of the earth searching for you, the elf that holds my fathers heart. I have learnt more about you than any of your kind would dare ask and I’ve heard tales a many of the elf king and his mortal love.” I watch as Legolas’ composure wavers a little as Breachtian tears what remains of his nightgown from his body exposing the beautiful lithe form of the centuries old elf under his command. Legolas’ skin is unblemished and the creamy reflection glows with an inner light known only to elves.

“I am not afraid of you little one.” Breachtian laughs quietly and shakes his head, although there is little mirth in his laughter that barely contains the malice. Legolas stiffens under my son as Breachtian pushes his hand down between where their bodies meet. Although the view is obscured by Breachtian’s knee I know what it is that he is doing to the elf.

“No you are not afraid of me Legolas.” Breachtian pauses his mtrattrations and draws his hand up and inside his coat and I watch in utter horror as he produces a silver elvan long blade from its confines. The edges of the knife twinkle mockingly in the dim light as Breachtian runs it across Legolas’ cheek, hard enough to leave a red trail of blood but not deep enough to cause permanent damagn din disgust I watch as Breachtian licks the length of the wound on Legolas’s cheek before tearing Legolas arm up onto the pillow above Legolas’s head. I know what comes next and I clench my fists helplessly and brace myself for the blow as Breachtian raises the knife above his head before slamming it down into the palm of Legolas hand, essentially skewering it to the bed. Legolas’ body convulses on impact of the knife and I do not miss the wince I see in his slowly faltering calm. “But you will be afraid of me when I am done.” I can see Legolas’s hand shaking on the pillow, the crimson blood just now beginning to seep into the cream silk sheets. Breachtian sits back from Legolas momentarily lifting his body as he slides his breaches down to his ankles and settles back against Legolas, who is now powerless to move with his hand pinned so brutally to the bed. A sickly bile rises in my throat as I watch Breachtian leisurely stroking himself to hardness on top of Legolas’s body, his eyes never leaving the elf’s. “So tell me Greenleaf, this consort of yours, does he make you scream his name in ecstasy? Or do you whisper my fathers name instead?” Breachtian cocks his head to the side almost innocently waiting a reply from Legolas but when non-is given Breachtian strikes Legolas again across the face jarring Legolas hand against the knife. “Answer me.” Breachtian grinds out the command from between his teeth and Legolas swallows hard before replying.

“I do neither, I am a silent lover.” The reply from Legolas is one I do not expect and although the situation has become gravely worse with Breachtian’s obvious intentions I can not help but smile at the stubbornness that is still present in the elf’s tone. Breachtian seems to find humour too in the situation and laughs quietly before shaking his head in reprove.

“Well then let me be the first to make your silence waver.” Breachtian snarls at Legolas and turns him over swiftly onto his front twisting his hand upon the knife blade. A hiss of pain breaks from Legolas’ lips and it is the first sign of weakness he has shown and Breachtian delights in it, the smile upon his face pure evil. “Now let it be known Legolas Greenleaf, King of Mirkwood. I will take from you, what my father has denied me because of his infatuation with you. He will never understand what I am or what I want, while ever he cannot have you. You have made him blind to anything other than self-denial and duty. You owe me your life for the pain you have caused me and my siblings and I will take my penance from you now. If I can not have my true love, I will have my fathers instead.”

“No.” The whispered words that issue from my lips are barely audible as I watch Breachtian spread Legolas’s legs wide, pinning them down hard as he kneels over Legolas’s body, his erection dripping onto Legolas’s exposed pale rear with anticipation. Legolas struggles wildly with no regard for how the knife continues to tear into his hand as Breachtian wrenches Legolas’s cheeks apart and positions himself at the tight entrance. Legolas’s calm resolve has finally been stretched to its end as he turns his head into the pillow knowing his fate. His eyes are a cloudy grey and although they stare directly at me, I know he does not see me. The world falls silent the night sounds falling dormant as Breachtian draws back and then with no preparation at all slams his body into Legolas’s.

The pain I see crease the beautiful features of Legolas’ face tear my heart to shreds and the tears that spring to his eyes are the most painful thing I have ever been witness to. My anger finally wins out over my weakness as the sound of his helpless scream echoes into the hallways of the palace, surely waking every being within Gondor. Without concern I use what energy I have left and haul myself to my feet and I slam myself through the bedroom door grabbing the fire stake as I go. I feel numb, devoid of all pain as I watch both Legolas and Breachtian look up to me surprise not enough to describe their reations. I do not pause however as I simply swing back with the long metal rod and bring it down with a crushing force, like I would my sword, onto my son’s back. I do not register the sickening crack and the scream of agony from Breachtian as he is thrown from Legolas body onto the floor by the force of my blow. Legolas’ screams again at being so abruptly pulled out of but I can not help him. Helplessly I drop the fire stake to the floor, the clattering sound piercing the stagnate silence as I fall forward to my knees at the end of the bed my energy spent and struggling to breath. Legolas looks down at me fearfully as he struggles to pull the knife free of his hand so he can move again. He is splattered with blood, the crimson streaks bright against his pale skin, and although I know it is not his I cannot help but see the images of my nightmares finally become reality.

“I..am…sorry….my..love” I struggle in between staggered breaths to speak, my voice only a whisper as I weakly raise my head to meet Legolas’ warm blue eyes. I fell in love with those eyes, the depth of wisdom they held and the beauty unseen that they concealed within. I could go a thousand years with just the memory of the sapphire pools of life that radiate his soul. I manage only to stare at his eyes for the briefest of moments, long enough to be sure of his health before blackness tugs at the corners of my vision and I fight to stay upright as dizziness engulfs me. Behind me I hear hurried footsteps and the shouting frantic voices as they enter the room but they fade quickly. With what remains of my strength I whisper his name and although I register that he is moving towards me I barely hear him scream my name as I fall forwards into the black abyss that calls to me.

TBC………………….