Enjoy the Silence

ENJOY SILESILENCE


Days and nights had gone by. Tepid, mild days and nights filled with the twittering of little birds, gentle sunbeams or a bright moon now had turned into days and nights of fear and anxiety. They couldn’t even tell day from night anymore. In Moria, there was no sunset and no sunrise. Only darkness.

Legolas hadn’t talked to either Boromir or Aragorn about what had happened between the three of them, and neither of the two men seemed eager to approach him on the matter. They hardly conversed at all and only spoke to each other if it was inevitable, but none of the other members of the fellowship except for Gandalf figured out the awkward and delicate constellation of the three. They all thought it was the depressing atmosphere of the dead mines that was wearing them down, or they were just too much occupied with their own agonizing emotions and didn’t pay profuse attention to the way Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas behaved around one another.

Moria was a nightmare. While Gimli bemoaned the gruesome deaths of his people, and the hobbits as well as Boromir and Aragorn had to struggle with the extraordinary coldness, Legolas suffered from the darkness and narrowness of these treacherous mines that had fallen victim to the evil. Everybody knew he was uncomfortable in here, but they didn’t guess how much. It demanded a great deal from him to conceal the intensity of his growing affliction, and more than once he had to retreat from the group and find a lonely spot to engage in some serious, uninterrupted contemplation in order to keep himself from panicking. Despite the fact that he allowed himself to tightly close his eyes then, and focus on his mind and thoughts in order to gain ground and prevail over his inner turmoil of emotions, he was still very aware of his sourroundings and sensed right away that this time someone had followed him to his chosen place of retreat.

Legolas sat absolutely unmoved, eyes still closed, hands folded in his lap, as the other person stepped closer with deliberate and slow strides. The disturber came to a halt not very far from the elf. If he outstretched his right arm, Legolas probably could have touched him. But he didn’t want to touch him. He didn’t want to touch anybody. All he wanted was to be left alone and fight the blackness that was crushing his spirit.

“What do you want, Boromir?” Legolas asked without opening his eyes.

“I want to talk to you in private. You owe me an explanation,” the warrior demanded. He didn’t seem to be surprised that Legolas knew it was him, although he hadn’t seen him coming.

“I’d rather be on my own right now,” the elf replied determinedly, expecting Boromir to leave again. But the man didn’t give up that fast.

“I will be gone as soon as you opened your mouth,” he said, but the archer didn’t react. “Legolas? Are you listening? For heaven’s sake, at least look at me while I’m speaking to you! You could -”

“Don’t you see that I’m in the middle of my meditations?” the elf cut him off. “You are disturbing me greatly!”

“I don’t care about your elven nonsense!” Boromir hissed and Legolas could hear that he took a step forward. “*Talk to me*!” With his last infuriated words, Boromir abandoned himself to an aggressive impulse and grabbed the blond male by his shoulder, a lot harder than he had meant to. Not even a second later, he was astonished to find himself flung against the hard wall, rough and cold rock boring into his stiffened back and the even colder metal of a sharp, long blade resting against his neck. Boromir needed a few moments to realize what had happened and then swallowed carefully, very aware of the dagger pressed against his neck, simultaneously searching Legolas’ eyes with his gaze. When he suceeded, his lips parted in sheer wonderment and all his explosive anger was forgotten.

“Legolas...” he whispered as his gaze captured wildly flaring nostrils, lips that in spite of the duskiness were almost as white as snow, and darkened eyes that spoke volumes of trepidation and unease. “What is happening to you?”

Without saying a word, the elf let go of Boromir as quickly as he had attacked him and turned around to hide his face from the human’s eyes. Releasing the breath Boromir hadn’t known he had been holding, he raised one hand to his neck to absently stroke his fingertips over the vulnerable spot the elf’s weapon had lingered on. “What is wrong with you?” he repeated his question, more confidently this time.

“I am sorry, I don’t know what has gotten into me,” Legolas said but didn’t turn around to face Boromir. The sound in his voice was strange, Boromir could hear that although the elf was speaking very quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare or hurt you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Boromir replied and stepped closer to the archer again. When Legolas didn’t reply this time, Boromir took a deep breath and very cautiously lay one gloved hand on the elf’s shoulder. He felt Legolas tense a bit, but didn’t pull away. “It’s these mines, isn’t it?” mir mir added. “They ail you more than you are willing to admit.”

“Why don’t you just *leave*?” Legolas pressed and wanted to step forward in order to escape Boromir’s soothing hand, but the warrior held him in place by clasping his second hand to Legolas’ arm.

“Is it the darkness?” Boromir asked softly from behind. It seemed like an eternity to him how they stood there, but eventually he heard Legolas inhaling slowly.

“It is this whole place,” the elf answered in nothing but a whisper. “No light, no trees, no animals, no flowers, no stream... Nothing is here. Only shadows and death. I feel as if these pitchblack caves and narrow corridors are exhausting all my energy.”

“We all are worn out,” Boromir assured. “You are not the only one who suffers from our current situation. Why are you hiding instead of drawing strength from your friends? There is nothing to be ashamed of. We all are afraid.”

“I’ve never been at a place like this before,” Legolas explained in a low voice. “A place completely devoid of everything living. The constant smell of death and the lack of life is slowly but surely poisoning my mind. But why do I make the effort to try to explain this to *you*, of all people... This is only *elven nonsense*, after all...”

“This is nonsense, indeed,” Boromir replied and tugged at Legolas’ shoulder in order to make him turn around. To his surprise, the elf didn’t protest but came face to face with him, his expression not as panicky as before but he was still nervous and dejected. “Death and evil may dominate these mines, but there is still life and warmth to be found.”

Legolas’ deep eyes narrowed a little, a silent question written across his tense features, and when Boromir undid a few clasps of his leather coat and started to tug open his tunic a little, the elf’s eyes went wider again. Before he could say a word, Boromir held out his palm to him. “Let me show you.”

Legolas didn’t feel entirely comfortable with the whole situation. He didn’t want to admit he needed help, he didn’t want to show weakness. He still would have preferred to struggle with his suffocating feelings all on his own, but after a short moment of hesitation, he surrendered and placed his bare hand in Boromir’s gloved one.

“Here,” the warrior said as he guided the slender elven hand through the small openings of his clothings and under his heavy and ice-cold chain mail, until Legolas’ palm came to rest on his bare chest. “Do you feel that?” he asked under his breath and pressed the archer’s hand closer to his body. Legolas only nodded weakly, but a tiny smile curved up the corners of his pale lips.

Boromir’s heartbeat was strong, steady and extremely calming. Legolas couldn’t help closing his eyes again as he concentrated on the vivid pulsation that was transferred from beneath the human’s skin to his palm all the way through his own body. Without thinking, Legolas stepped a little forward, almost closing the space between Boromir and himself.

“There’s not only death down here, Legolas,” the human spoke on, not stopping to hold the elf’s hand against his chest. “I am very alive. And so are you. There might not be any light within Moria, but I know there is bright and pure light within yourself.”

Legolas blinked his eyes open again and looked Boromir right in the eyes. He was grateful for the human’s words and would have wanted to thank him for his support, but he couldn’t get himself to say it out loud. At least not yet. He saw that Boromir waited for a reaction, but he couldn’t wrench one word from his throat. Instead of saying anything, Legolas raised his free hand to lightly stroke his fingertips over Boromir’s cheek in a tiny but meaningful gesture. His eyes widened as soon as he made contact with the human’s face. He could tell from the cold skin of Boromir’s chest that the low temperature in Moria affected the human warrior, but only now as he touched his unprotected face, he realized the whole extent.

“You are freezing,” Legolas stated, not without concern, and lay his hand flatly on Boromir’s cheek.

"That surprises you?" Boromir replied with a slight grin. “Aren’t *you* cold?”

“Only a little. Elves are very resistent against weather and temperature. Against coldness as well as heat.”

“I see,” the human said. “Do you feel better now?” he then wanted to know. “I would like to adjust my clothes again, if you don’t mind.”

“Of cou” Le” Legolas replied, but only reluctantly withdrew his hand from the human’s chest. Silently, he watched Boromir close his tunic and the clasps of his coat. Then he started to slowly rub his hands together which were cold as ice although he wore thick leather gloves. It didn’t heat them up at all, but at least the movements kept them from turning completely numb again. Legolas watched for a little longer and then rose his voice again.

"Come here," he ordered gently. “I will give some warmth to you in return for your... care.”

“Legolas, please... I don’t think I want that. Not after what has happened with Aragorn...” Boromir said and wanted to turn around in order to head back to the resting fellowship, but Legolas held him at his arm.

“I wasn’t implying anything like that,” the elf assured. “I merely wanted to warm you a little. It’s up to you whether you want to take this offer. I’m not going to force you.”

“I... I guess we better return to the others before Gandalf sends somebody after us,” Boromir replied, rid himself of Legolas’ hand and rushed out of the dark cavern.

It was impossible to find any longlasting rest. Everytime Boromir was overcome with exhaustion aell ell into very light and troublesome sleep, he would wake with a start only a few moments later. He was so cold that he almost couldn’t feel his legs and arms anymore. How he envied the little ones right now... Judging from what he could hear, the hobbits were all sound asleep, each of them either snoring softly or murmuring sweetly in their sleep. They lay all huddled together, partly in order to gain warmth from each other, partly because they were too scared to sleep alone. Gandalf kept watch sitting on a rock not far from them all, and thanks to the very dim and small light atop the wizard’s stick Boromir could make out that Aragorn was resting very close to the four halflings, soothing them with his protective presence. Maybe he was even part of their sleeping pile, benefitting from the small, warm bodies. Or maybe he lay wide awake and was staring into the neverending darkness like Boromir himself. Actually Boromir didn’t really care what the ranger was up to, and so he turned on his other side, his gaze searching for Legolas who had lain down all on his own, quite a distance from the others. Boromir could only see very vague outlines of the elf’s slim figure that lay totally still, almost lifeless.

The man from Gondor closed his eyes again and tried to fall asleep, but he didn’t have any success and after some more time had passed by, he slowly got on his feet, gathered his furred blankets in his arms and carefully made his way over to Legolas’ resting place. As soon as he arrived his destination, the weak source of light on Gandalf’s stick dimmed out even more, and Boromir and Legolas both were completely swallowed by the consuming black shadows. Alarmed, Boromir cast a gaze back to the old wizard, but Gandalf sat with his back to them and pretended that nothing had happened. Not knowing whether to curse or thank their leader, Boromir got on his knees. He couldn’t see anything, but from the way fabric rustled all of a sudden, the human warrior could tell that the elf was just opening the wide cloak he was wrapped in. Without saying a word, Boromir slowlyucheuched towards Legolas until his gloved hand made light contact with Legolas’ body, probably his chest. Silently, he then slipped into the elf's open arms and instantly found himself enveloped in the warmth of the large elven cloak that Legolas tenderly wrapped around the two of them. While the archer quickly pulled also Boromir’s cape as well as the thick blanket over the two of them, Boromir nestled even closer to the slender figure and couldn’t surpress a faint sigh when he felt the elf’s comforting bodyheat.

"Better?" Legolas asked very close to the human’s ear and in the lowest whisper he could manage.

"Much," Boromir replied exhaustedly and moved his head so that his numb face was resting in the wonderfully warm and soft hollow of the junction of Legolas' shoulder and neck. His icy breath vibrated over the silky skin and Boromir felt the elf's pulse quicken against his frosty lips. He wanted to pull back again, but Legolas’ hand came to rest on the back of his head and held him close.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” Legolas suddenly whispered, his lips softly brushing Boromir’s ear as he spoke.

“About what?” the human breathed against Legolas’ skin.

“About what you said. That you don’t want us to spend time together because of the incident with Aragorn.”

Boromir didn’t dare breathe as he waited for Legolas to continue. He knew what he had said. He had been furious at the elf, he had felt betrayed and humiliated and played with. But he couldn’t deny that he still was obsessed with this creature. He had repressed his yearning for the physical contact, the wonderful scent and delicate feel of the elf. But now as he was lying here, he knew he would forgive him everything if only Legolas chose the right words. If only the cold, emotionless and proud shell would crack and reveal that there was more to him than what he had displayed so far...

“I know I’ve pushed it too far,” Legolas began. “I couldn’t stop myself. I know you are angry with me and I can’t even blame you for it. But the fact that you are here in my arms tells me that it’s not yet too late for working things out and starting all over again... that you are willing to accept my apology. Aren’t you?”

For a few seconds, Boromir thought he was only dreaming. He couldn’t believe those words had come out of Legolas’ mouth. When he finally realized the elf had indeed said this out loud, he started to wonder whether his speech had been earnest. It wouldn’t surprise him if it had been only another one of Legolas’ tricks to lure him into submissiveness and willingness.

“Would you speak the very same words if it was not I who’s lying here, but Aragorn? If it had been him who offered his support to you a little while ago?”

“It wasn’t him. It was you.”

“You aren’t answering my question, Legolas.”

“Why do you question so much? I’m here with you, I’m talking to you, I apologize to you. Is this not enough for you?”

*It’s all I ever wanted*, Boromir thought as Legolas brought their mouthsetheether. It was like fire crashing on ice when the elf’s warm, tender lips made contact with the human’s rough and chilly ones and started a slow kiss. Before it could develop into something more intense, Legolas disconnected from the warrior’s cold mouth and started to speak again.

“To answer your question... If it had been Aragorn, I would have –“

Boromir stifled Legolas’ answer by kissing him again, harder this time.

“I don’t want to hear it,” the warrior panted in a low voice as soon as he broke the kiss again. He didn’t want this moment to be destroyed by Legolas’ sometimes cruel honesty. This was what they both needed right now; comfort, distraction, warmth, solace. And he wouldn’t let anything come between them this very second. He didn’t know what would be tomorrow, or when they eventually left the mines again, but he knew what he – and Legolas – wanted and needed right here right now. “No more words anymore. Not tonight.”

“Alright,” Legolas whispered back. “We’ll talk later.”

"Shh," Boromir muttered as he started to place a trail of tiny kisses on the elf’s long neck. “Be silent.”

Closing his eyes, Legolas found Boromir’s hands with his own and carefully pulled off the thick gloves the human was wearing. Boromir didn’t protest but eagerly slipped his now bare hands beneath warm layers of fine clothes until he was touching smooth, naked s Leg Legolas shifted at the contact, causing Boromir to fall still in his slow movement.

“Is it very uncomfortable?” the warrior asked into the darkness, thinking of how extremely cold his hands had to feel.

“No,” Legolas breathed surprisingly close to Boromir’s face. The warrior felt the breath of the elf warming his own lips as he spoke on, the tone in his voice giving away his despair. “Please, Boromir... Show me that I’m still alive... Touch me...”

As Boromir sent his numb fingers on excursion all over the archer’s body, Legolas ushered in another kiss that was as slow as the ones before, but far more demanding. Legolas’ tongue was so hot on the man’s frosty lips that it almost hurt as the elf licked passionate heat on Boromir’s mouth while the warrior was undoing more and more of tiny clasps and clever knots in order to gain access to warmer places of the ethereal body in his arms. After some moments of quiet kissing and caressing, the archer shifted again and Boromir's breath got caught in his throat when suddenly something pressed against his palm that was astonishingly solid and even hotter than the elf’s tongue.

“Gods, Legolas, how...” Boromir started but fell silent again when he realized the others must have heard him. Wordlessly, he closed his hand around the elf’s hard member with care. This was pretty good proof that Legolas indeed wasn’t much affected by the bitter coldness, Boromir thought with a slight grin as the elf weakly pushed against his hand.

“Please don’t stop,” Legolas breathed, his faint voice coated with growing arousal.

“Be still,” the human warrior murmured, rolled Legolas onto his back and pushed himself halfway over him, settling them both into a safer position. Just in case Gandalf should decide to light up the dimly luminous source on his stick and reveal the two lovers to the eyes of everyone who was awake, the fellowship would only be confronted with the warrior’s broad back. Shielding the handsome elf with his body, Boromir very slowly stroked the solid erection and quickly started to feel his fingers being revived again through its heat. As soon as his formerly numb hand was fully feeling again, he intensified his caresses without neglecting tenderness, and Legolas inched even closer, affectionately nuzzling his face against Boromir’s neck. It was unfamiliar to please Legolas in such a gentle and slow way, to experience the usually dominant and tempestuously elf so passively and cuddly, but before long Boromir decided that he could get used to it.

Legolas was amazingly silent. Not the slightest of groans or pants was to be heard from his mouth. The only indication of his great arousal was – apart from the hot hardness Boromir’s right hand was cautiously caring for – the intense heaving of Legolas’ chest. He breathed without making any sounds, but much deeper and heavier than before they had engaged in these sensual activities. Much sooner than Boromir had expected the elf’s breathing quickened and one of Legolas’ hands clawed itself into the warrior’s clothes, right in the middle of his chest. Boromir couldn’t see the elf in the consuming darkness that enveloped them, but it wasn’t difficult to notice that Legolas was close to his peak. His body started to jerk every now and then, involuntarily bucking and trembling under the weight Boromir pressed onto him to hold him as still as possible, and his hand on Boromir’s chest clenched and unclenched in uncontrollable spasms. Only a few moments later, the beginning of a soft moan slipped from the elf’s parted lips, but it never had the chance to develop into something more keenly as Boromir quickly clamped his other hand over the archer’s mouth to stifle any unrestrained outbursts.

Legolas’ free hand flew to Boromir’s wrist and caught hold of it with such strength that Boromir gasped in both surprise and pain. The sudden sound obviously alarmed Gandalf who was still keeping watch. The dim shimmer flickered to a slightly bigger light that reached the two entwined bodies of the elf and the human, allowing Boromir to catch a glimpse of Legolas’ face. His stomach churned when he saw the panicked expression in the elf’s eyes, the deep furrows of pure dread on the pale sweaty forehead, the slender hand that was gripping his wrist so hard that the knuckles had turned white from it. Realizing the great and horrible effect his seemingly harmless action had on the anxious elf, Boromir instantly let go of Legolas’ mouth, not caring about any noises the others now probably would overhear. A strangled sob of fright blended with relief escaped from Legolas’ throat and not even a second later altered to a trembling moan as his climax claimed him. Boromir watched in silence as the expression of fear and shock on Legolas’ face was smoothed awy sey sensual pleasure, the elf’s eyes rolling back and his lips parting a little more. But it was over as quickly as it had begun, and the lustful delight that had dominated the archer’s face was soon replaced by desperation and sorrow again. Before Boromir could react in any way, his elven lover nestled to him as closely as possible, pressing his whole body against the human and burrying his heated face in the hollow of Boromir’s neck. The human closed both his arms around the slim figure and held him tight.

“I am sorry,” Boromir whispered into the blond, silky hair of the heavily breathing elf. “That was inconsiderate of me. I didn’t mean to –“

“’Tis alright. I am fine,” Legolas breathed against Boromir’s skin. “How about you? Are you warming up?"

“A bit,” Boromir replied. Their joined and increased bodyheat had created a cozy warmth in the shelter of their cloaks and blankets they were still wrapped in, and with Legolas closely snuggled up to him there didn’t seem to be a chance for the biting coldness to prevail. “I'm tired. I might fall asleep if we stay like this for a little longer."

"So be it, then," the elf whispered, his breaths slowly turning to normal again until they were coming and going evenly and deeply again. A tiny smile crossed Legolas’ face when Gandalf dimmed the light again, granting the two a little more privacy for this night. But Boromir didn’t even take notice of the wizard’s well-meant act. Still holding Legolas in his embrace, he was already sound asleep.