Warrior Elf Series (COMPLETED)
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,635
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,635
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Hope and Anguish
Warrior Elf Series Part 2 : Hope and Anguish
Pairing: Legolas/Boromir
Beta-Reader: Cuthalion
Feedback: Please? Yes yes yes? Thank you.
Website: http://www.nimnastian.net/nessa
E-mail: nessa_tulcakelume@hotmail.com
The wind blew coldly through the trees and before them, wide gray shadows loomed. If it were any other forest, such sights would have struck fear and terror in the hearts of Men, Elves or Hobbits. Yet, it was with eager hearts that the eight friends carried with them as they finally reach within sights of the woods of Lothlorien.
“Lothlorien!” breathed Legolas, his voice, a prayer, his eyes shining with awe and supreme joy. In the gloom of the night, even the shadows of the trees seemed to reach out to them, beckoning them, their leaves glimmering under the starlight. With a sigh, Legolas fell on to one knee, his head bowed in gratitude and awe.
The rest of the Company was not unaffected. The peaceful beauty of Lothlorien was a balm to their senses and Aragorn allowed himself to savour the feel of the wind blowing through his hair, and he felt all his fears and sorrows melting from his very bones – each breath seemed to cleanse his very soul and strength seemed to surge through his weary heart, willing him to carry on. A small, wistful smile was upon his lips.
Legolas stood his his head tossed back, his long hair blowing gently in the wind. “Here lays the woods of Lothlorien,” he said, addressing his comrades, his eyes sparkling with his excitement, “where the fairest of my people dwell. Let us hasten! Too long have we dwelt in sorrow that we forget how it feels to have peace residing within our breasts once more.” And with that, his footsteps quickened, the fervor in his expression brought about renewed vigor in the tired limbs of his friends.
Boromir smiled to himself, registering the light steps of Legolas as they pressed on towards the welcoming sight before them. It lightened his heart to see the Elf smiling once more, his eyes gleaming with anticipation of passing through the legendary woods of his kin. For several days, he had not been certain of the thoughts going through the Elf’s mind for he had remained quiet and thoughtful, especially after the incident in the woods where they had rested many nights before…
‘You do not know what you have done.’ The Elf had said and had left him afterwards, as guilt coursed though his body at the thought of having sullied what was once so pure and precious. But Boromir refused to feel regret over what he had done. How could he when the very thought of Legolas in his arms made his blood quicken and his heart sing at the memory of the embrace they had shared?
Still, the Elf had changed after that night. His expression was carefully masked whenever Boromir chanced to speak to him, his eyes giving nothing away. He would not even look at Boromir in the eye, and it was something that brought about great anguish to the Man for he longed to have the Elf look upon him with the honest, trusting eyes that he had once bestowed upon him prior to the unfortunate encounter. He would not have minded even if Legolas looked upon him with contempt. Any emotion was preferable to the distance that Legolas placed between them.
And yet, Boromir thought, and yet there were times that he felt that the Elf seemed to follow him, bright eyes watching him from stanstance, while they trudged through the wilderness. Thoughtful and solemn eyes they were too, whenever Boromir chanced to glance at Legolas when he thought the Elf wasn’t looking. And when they sat down to rest, he imagined Legolas’ legs brushing against his, and when they lay down to sleep, he imagined Legolas sitting next to him… hiss fis filled with something… something that Boromir could not name, dare not hope for… something that warmed Boromir’s heart and make him long to weep for a caress of the Elf’s fair hand upon his brows once more.
‘But it was just a dream,’ Boromir thought, as Pippin gave a cry of delight as they entered, finally, into the very woods of Lothlorien. Thoughts of Legolas were temporarily erased from his troubled mind as he noticed for the first time the beauty that surrounded him. The woods consumed him, filling his senses with a heady perfume of the greenery. It was indeed a sight to behold. The trees were tall; their branches seemed to stretch up to the heavens. He smiled and when he glanced around, he saw the same smile upon his friends’ faces too, Frodo looking happier than he had ever been, ever since they had lost Gandalf in the Mines of Moria.
“We shall rest here. Orcs would not dare enter these woods for they are well protected by the powers of the Lady Galadriel,” said Aragorn, as he relieved himself of his weapons and rolled his shoulders tiredly. Gimli gave a snort of disbelief, for he had heard many stories of the Lady of the Woods; none of them were complimentary. Aragorn just ignored him, but Boromir could see that the Ranger had a smile on his face which he had trouble concealing.
The Company built a small fire and before long the air was scented with food and filled with the sounds of the chatter of the Hobbits and of Gimli engaged in conversation with Aragorn. ‘They are probably debating over this Lady Galadriel,’ thought Boromir with a smile. He had grown to be fond of the Dwarf’s quick temper and his grumbling. His smile quickly faded as he felt Legolas settling down next to him. Not so close as to feel the heat of his body, but close enough to make his heart skip a beat. Legolas must have felt him tense, for he gave Boromir a half glance before proceeding to stare into the fire once more.
Aragorn felt the familiar stirrings of jealousy as he saw the Elf seated next to Boromir as he had done so many times before when they needed to rest. Legolas had rarely showed partiality to any of the members of the Fellowship and had almost always only talked to Aragorn about matters of the Elves and to consult him over something that was troubling him. And yet, there he was, a few feet from Boromir, not speaking but in the lines of his body, Aragorn saw the Elf’s emotional inclination towards his friend. The Ranger wondered what had transpired between the two to have the Elf drop his defenses towards one who he had spoke against, in his anger, during the Council of Elrond.
SuddenGimlGimli’s conversation seemed to be bothersome and he felt more tired then he had ever felt before. He was just about to beg leave of it and suggest that they get some sleep when he heard Boromir gave a cry of alarm as Legolas sprang to his feet in horror and stood in front of Boromir, bow and arrow ready to fire at the invisible intruder.
‘Daro,’ came a voice from up in the trees. Aragorn started, for he had not notice anyone else that would be watching them when they were busy making themselves comfortable. He paled visibly as he realized that this folly of his would have resulted in the danger of the Company’s lives. His hand crept towards his sword, his mind racing as he tried to find to source of the voice, wondering desperately if it belonged to a friend or foe.
Light laughter rang out, and Legolas dropped his weapon, his fear giving way to delight. “Haldir!” he cried out, joyfully. Aragorn once again was startled when three Elves dropped down from the very tree that he had been leaning against.
Haldir of Lorien was a tall elf, pride lined his every features and his hair shone, reflecting the red glow of the little bonfire that they had made. With him are two other elves of similar looks and height and Aragorn knew that they were Rumil and Orophin, brothers to the handsome elf that was smiling at the Company. The Hobbits stared at the Elves for they had not seen any as fair as the three that stood before them, except, possibly Legolas, whose beauty stood out like a diamond amongst a band of gold.
“Well met, Legolas! Too long had time pass since we last graced each other’s presence,” Haldir said, moving forward to lock Legolas in his tight embrace which the slender Elf returned. Boromir looked away, a grimace passing swiftly over his face. It did not go unobserved by Haldir who smiled, maybe not a pleasant smile, as he regarded the Man with cool eyes.
“I wanted to go by unnoticed while I try to find out whether you are friend or foe. But apparently you saw me, Human, and your surprised outburst had caused Legolas to lift his weapon against an old friend,” said Haldir amiably enough, but in his eyes, Boromir saw a different story.
Aragorn noticed the exchange, and rubbed his face wearily. He felt that he had aged twenty years looking at the youthful Elves before him, proud and beautiful. “Haldir,” he began, addressing the Elf who had locked his eyes onto Boromir’s. The Elf turned slightly around and noticed Aragorn as if for the first time. ‘Too much unwanted attention is placed upon Legolas,’ Aragorn thought to himself grimly as he saw Haldir turning around to his brothers, speaking softly in Elvish, w for for their ears alone. As his brothers ran off, Haldir turned to Aragorn and smiled.
“Son of Arathorn. Well met. I know what is it you want to ask of me, for the Lady of the Woods had told me of your desires for protection,” Haldir said, pausing for a moment with a raised eyebrow as he waited for Aragorn to deny that fact. When Aragorn said nothing, Haldir continued. “Rest if you must. Tomorrow, I will lead you to meet the Lady Galadriel and her Lord.”
Legolas gazed into the face of his beloved friend, his heart singing with joy. Haldir had spoken to Aragorn a little more and after a consensus had been made, Haldir turned once again to him. His familiar, beautiful smile drew a similar one from Legolas’ lips. Haldir moved towards him, and held out his hand, which Legolas eagerly took, registering his friend’s firm grip upon his fingers.
“Come, my friend,” Haldir said. “There is much we have to talk about!” Then, hand in hand, Haldir led Legolas away from his friends.
Boromir watched Haldir walk away with his treasured possession, and it seemed that with every step that Legolas took that led him away from Boromir’s side was as if every footfall was crushing his own beating heart. So acute was the agony at the sight of Legolas smiling into the handsome face of his ‘lover’ that Boromir closed his eyes, trying to block out the taunting face of Haldir’s.
‘You are not worth the dust he walks on….Man,’ came that voice in his head which he knew to be Haldir’s. And Boromir knew, deep in his heart, that the Elf was right. But it did not make the pain any easier for him to bear. He stood up suddenly, and decided that tonight was going to be another night where he would not be able to find peace in sleep.
**********
Legolas and Haldir had been walking for some time, without any clear sense of direction before the larger Elf stopped and held Legolas by his shoulders. With a sigh, Haldir lowered his lips towards Legolas’ and tentatively tasted them. His tongue slipped into the moist cavern of Legolas’ mouth, tasting the sweetness of Legolas’ own tongue, his lips stroking and seducing, coaxing Legolas into responding to his drugging assault.
It seemed long to Haldir, before he realized that Legolas was not responding. He broke off the kiss and peered into the expressive blue eyes. The look in Legolas’ eyes took his breath away. There was love, yes, but he also knew from that very look in those eyes that Legolas will never see Haldir as anything more than a friend. And the thought left a bitter taste in Haldir’s mouth.
‘It’s the Man isn’t it?’ he said in Elvish. ‘You have learned to care for him, although he had been nothing but ruthless in his pursuit of you.’ Legolas remained silent but his eyes never looked away and instead holding fast into Haldir’s own stormy ones.
‘Why did you give your heart to him Legolas? He is but a man, a mere mortal. He will never be good enough for you,’ Haldir said, frustrated, his hands repeatedly running through Legolas’ long hair and his face, a tou touching him would persuade him to change the course of his heart. Legolas’ steady gaze on his friends face confirmed what the other Elf had already suspected.
‘I do care for him Haldir, but it is not a burden to give my affections to him, no matter what you may think,’ Legolas began hesitantly. He slipped out of Haldir’s embrace, and walked several steps away from him and paused, as if trying to find words to justify the emotions he feels for Boromir. When Legolas met Haldir’s eyes again, he saw heart-wrenching sorrow in his friend’s eyes and it breaks his own heart for he knew that Haldir was devastated that he could not return the affections that was desired of him.
‘The Man is weak, yes. But in his weakness he sought to find strength within himself. It tortures him night and day to struggle with his desire for the ring and perhaps Boromir confuses that desire with his own desires for me. I could feel that war and anguish within him, tormenting him although he is not aware of the extent of its control over his own mind and sanity,’ Legolas said, pacing back and forth, almost talking to himself while Haldir’s eyes followed his every move. He then stopped suddenly, his bright eyes fixed upon Haldir’s – and the larger Elf was reminded of the reason he had fallen in love with Legolas in the first place.
‘He needs me, Haldir. I am his strength, his love, his life, his only hope and now I am bound to him, body and soul. It is a burden that I gladly partake for the Man is not without gentleness even in the summit of his passions. I know that I bring out the best in him for his eyes tell me so.’
Legolas moved towards Haldir, a soft, sad smile upon his lips and he laid a hand upon his friend’s cheek. Haldir covered that hand with his, and stared into those captivating azure eyes, blazing with emotion.
‘He does not know what he had done. He does not know that by taking my body, he has gained my undying devotion to him, till Death itself comes to claim either one of us. It is my gift to him. I have sworn to protect him, to keep him from harm. I will become his Warrior Elf,’ Legolas said, smiling as if reflecting on some fond memory. Their gaze held and after what seemed like eternity, Haldir allowed his lips to break into a reluctant smile.
‘Then I hope, my friend, that he will treat you well, and behave in such a way that is deserving of the affections of the Prince of Mirkwood, Son of Thranduil,’ Haldir said, gathering Legolas into his arms again, this time in offer of friendship.
‘Ah,’ said Legolas, his eyes sparkling with amusement, ‘I said that I will care for him and protect him. But I said not that he will behave in a manner that is appropriate towards a Prince. Perhaps I do not want him to be tamed just as yet.’
The two friends laughed and Haldir kissed Legolas’ lips in friendly affection. They sat down then, side by side, heads leaning against each other with familiarity, a small smile upon their fair faces. They did not notice someone sneaking away from the scene like a thief in the night.
*********
Boromir ran blindly through the forests. Danger or no, he had to escape the image of Haldir and Legolas together, arms locked in a tight embrace, as if they will never let go. Every step he took was a reminder of his own imperfections, his own flaws. This was why he was running away, because he knew that he would never look as Haldir did, like he belonged in the strong arms of Legolas Green Leaf. And at last, with a small cry of despair, he flung himself to the ground and pressed hisek aek against the cool ground, his breathing ragged. There was little comfort for him in this loneliness; too small perhaps, to last for long, but it was comfort nonetheless.
He turned around, his heart troubled and heavy; eyes stared forward into the night sky. The wind caressed his cheeks, the rustling leaves seemed to be a lullaby. And against all odds, Boromir found that he was so weary that when he shut his eyes, he drifted into slumber and as he did so, he imagined Legolas’ face in front of his, those lips once again smiling that half-smile Boromir loved so much…
Voices. Footsteps. And the hiss of metal brushing against armor. Boromir’s eyes flew open and his hand moved instinctively towards his sword at his side. A hand gripped his, stopping its advance and he would have given a shout of panic had not a cool, but firm hand pressed against his open lips.
“Hush,” cautioned a voice. Boromir’s eyes shot towards its source and he flushed when he saw Legolas hovering above him. He wanted to ask what the matter was but the wariness and apprehension in his Elf’s eyese hie him stop short. Legolas was crouching in a manner that he had seen before: it was a posture Legolas adopted whenever danger was near. The Elf’s eyes turned this way and that, cocking his head to one side as if listening intently, brows creased in intense concentration. And then there it was again; those voices and footsteps that do not belong to elves or man.
‘Yrch,’ hissed Legolas, springing up to his feet, on his face an expression so terrible and fierce that it took Boromir’s breath away. He pulled the Man up to his feet and then backed up against the nearest tree, pressing their backs against it. Legolas was tense against Boromir’s side as the foul voices of the Orcs seemed to draw nearer.
Then suddenly, Legolas leapt up the tree nimbly. As he perched upon a large branch he extended his arm to the worried Man below. “Hurry,” Legolas whispered, his eyes still darting about uneasily, “they are coming this way!” Boromir wasted to time in heeding the Elf’s advice. He grabbed the extended hand and with surprising ease, the Elf pulled the heavier Man onto the branch with him. Their perch gave an alarming quiver but held fast, supporting their weight. Legolas again pushed Boromir against the tree trunk and hunkered down before him as if tr to to conceal him from sight. Boromir could see the wisdom in that decision for Legolas was garbed in the colours of the forest and would be easier to conceal amongst theves ves rather then the colours of the clothing that Boromir wore. They held their breaths in apprehension while the Orcs finally came into view several stones throw away from them.
There were many of them and Boromir knew that their lives depend on the effectiveness of their concealment for two virtually unprepared warriors were no match against a band of Orcs. Besides, they could not risk open war, for the lives of the Ring bearer would be in jeopardy and the ring itself would be in danger of being stolen. It was a thought that Boromir strangely could not bear.
Legolas hardly seemed to move as he was locked in his crouching position, and the back that was presented to Boromir was straight as a rod and stiff as steel. The Orcs were moving directly under the tree that they were in and would they chance to look up, the two friends would indeed be discovered. Legolas slowly moved his back closer to Boromir until it made contact with the Man’s chest. Boromir seemed to forget how to breathe, so tense was he in his fears of being discovered and so achingly sweet was thel ofl of Legolas’ lithe form against his once more. The two were pressed so close together that they seemed to be one, for it was a matter of life and death, to make two figures blend as closely to the shadows as possible to avoid being seen.
Legolas head seemed to turn this way and that, as if waiting for something or someone. And then their silent prayers were answered. A soft chirrup of an unseen bird was heard in a nearby tree. Legolas turned his head to the direction where the sound came from and answered back with a call of his own. The Orcs were oblivious to the exchange but Boromir saw what Legolas did see. Although the Man does not have the keen eyesight of an Elf, he could barely, just barely make out two figures crouching in the tree nearest to them – they were Haldir’s brothers and their eyes were locked upon Legolas’. There seem to be an exchange of thoughts, and although no sound was made, a mutual understanding was achieved and the two brothers proceeded to create several distractions. They shifted in the trees, causing the leaves to rustle and the Orcs turned immediately to the direction of the sound.
Reacting quickly, Rumil and Orophin began speaking in high voices, mimicking the voice of the hobbits and with astonishing speed they sped off into the night, leaping with extraordinary litheness from tree to tree, and the Orcs pursued their voices, cursing and growling as they ran off into the heart of the forest.
It was a long while before the tension left Legolas’ body and when there was absolutely no sound, safe the faint rustle of the wind through the trees, he turned around to face Boromir, relief etched into his beautiful features. He smiled, the glamour and intensity of it reaching deep into the Man’s heart and seemed to squeeze painfully.
“They are gone. Rumil and Orophin will lead them to a trap. None of the Orcs will come back alive,” he said with a sigh, his eye held Borom in in a steady gaze. The Elf was still pressed lightly against him and Boromir found that he could not look into the Elf’s fair face and not feel wretched and miserable.
“I think we had better return to our friends,” Boromir murmured, looking anywhere but into the eyes of his Elf. Legolas’ silent perusal of Boromir was disconcerting. Then without a word, he reached forward to run a hand through Boromir’s matted hair.
“You should not have been alone. It would have been dangerous. You might have been killed had I not found you in time,” he said quietly, his eyes lowering sadly. Boromir turned an angry look towards the Elf. But Legolas did not cringe, instead, he held that gaze but without any expression.
“And you would have gotten your revenge,” Boromir said coldly, and tried to move away form the unsettling feel of Legolas’ warmth against his body. Legolas’ hand reached out once again to stop him, the Elf’s eyes impaling him upon his gaze.
“It will give me no pleasure to see you hurt, Son of Gondor,” said the Elf in a soft voice that would have been lost in the wind had Boromir not been so close to him. But his eye never left the Man’s face. Boromir closed his eyes in anguish and sighed long and loud.
“Why do you torture me so? I cannot but look at you and I feel as if I’m strong and yet weak. I feel anguish in my very soul yet hope dwelled there as well. And you have only to barely touch me and I am falling apart. You are making me go mad!” he said wearily.
The answer he got was firm lips covering his own and Boromir opened his eyesdisbdisbelief. But Legolas continued to press warm, firm kisses upon the Man’s trembling lips and when Boromir parted his lips to speak, the Elf slipped his tongue into Boromir’s mouth. A moan escaped into the air, as Legolas pushed himself against Boromir’s body, pinning the plaint form against the tree trunk, his hands cupping the bearded cheeks, deepening the kiss. Slowly, Legolas rubbed himself against Boromir’s hard arousal like a cat, causing the Man to pant with suppressed desires.
When it all seemed too much for him to bear, Boromir reluctantly tore his mouth away from Legolas’. “Haldir,” he began to say but Legolas stopped him with another kiss.
“He is nothing more than a dear friend to me,” the Elf whispered as he bestowed soft kisses down Boromir’s sensitized neck. Boromir gasped as the Elf’s tongue lapped at the soft skin there and the Elf’s knowing hands stroked the Man’s throbbing member through its breeches.
“But I saw you with him!” he choked out, ng tng to maintain a measure of coherence as he struggled to bite back a groan. Legolas stopped his sensuous assault on the Man’s senses and regarded him in silence before a slow smile passed over his lips. Boromir narrowed that that suspicious-looking smile.
“Ah, so that was why you sought to be alone,” Legolas all but smirked in typical male seltisftisfaction, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Boromir sulked, if it were not disrespectful to say that a grown man who have fought many battles to do so.
“Yes. I did not think you wanted to be disturbed,” he said sullenly, while his fingers unconsciously played with Legolas’ long hair, glowing silver in the moonlight.
The Elf laughed quietly and pressed his forehead against the man’s. When he met Boromir’s eyes again, he was relatively quiet but now on his face was another smile, warm and kind. Hope flared into the heart of Boromir.
“But Boromir,” Legolas said in a voice husky with passion. “You were the one who constantly disturbed my thoughts. Not Haldir. There was no need to get jealous,” he teased. Boromir gave a mock gasp of outrage afore with a growl, he wrapped himself around his Elf, grounding his lips and body against his lover’s strong form, his heart beating a wild, erratic tempo. The Elf returned his kisses, his head slanting first this way and then that, in an incredibly seductive manner, devouring the Man’s lips, as if he wanted to swallow the Man whole.
‘I can’t get get enough of you, Legolas, my love,’ Boromir thought in the midst of his passion. He felt Legolas stiffened slightly and he wondered if he had voiced his thoughts out loud. The kiss broke off and Legolas stared deep into the Man’s green eyes. Boromir stared back, not realizing that all the love he felt for the Elf is reflected in the green depths. And there was confusion as well… and desire. Legolas’ eyes darkened with response to what he saw before him and with a low growl in his throat, his nimble fingers undid Boromir’s breeches. The Man’s manhood sprang out and proudly stood at attention at the appreciative perusal of his lover’s gaze and he had the grace to blush a little.
But all pretense of decorum disappeared as Legolas lightly stroked the hard length, causing Boromir to quiver violently. It was only when he started panting and his back arched in a desperate attempt to reach his fulfillment that Legolaiftliftly took off his own leggings with amazing skill considering that they were still perched upon the branch like birds. That very thought brought a grin to Boromir’s lips and his laughing eyes met Legolas, who grinned back, eyes filled with mischief and laughter at the situation that they were in.
But laughter turned quickly to moans of ecstasy as Legolas settled slowly upon his erect member, his opening squeezing and massaging the engorged organ, a clear proof of the Man’s desire for his beautiful Elf prince. Their breathing quickened as Legolas began to move rapidly and determinedly up and down the Man’s length, setting the rhythms of their love-making with a ferocity and hunger that fanned both their heightened desires. The branches quivered alarmingly in time to their movements. Every downward stroke of Legolas’ opening to the base of Boromir’s member was sweet agony, and although the Man’s head bumped repeatedly against the trunk with the force of their union, it went unnoticed. All that matters was the building heat in his loins and that if Legolas slowed down or stopped, he would die…
And then it happened; as it had many nights before. With a guttural oath, Boromir attained his release, and his Elf followed suit, his pace never slowing, lips opened in a quiet exclamation of wonderment. But with a final wobble of the branch, the lovers felt it tip them over and with a cry of surprise; they fell to the ground, unhurt but bemused. Legolas was the first to recover from the rude interruption to his own pleasure but stared opened-mouthed as the tree quivered once again and then gave a loud ‘harrumph’ of discomfort. It blinked its yellow eyes seemingly in a daze and then proceeded to stretch its roots, or rather feet and walked away from the scene, rumbling with displeasure.
“I say, Legolas. I believe that was an Ent,” said Boromir after a moment of stunned silence. The two looked at one another for a moment before allowing themselves to laugh merrily. And it was no wonder because there they were upon the gr: tw: two warriors both alike in passion and spirit, breeches pooling at their knees, satiated for the moment after their torrid love-making only to be chastised by a tree. The situation was indeed ludicrous and they collapsed on the ground, positively howling with glee.
Boromir then stopped suddenly, his eyes shining with a love that he could not restrain and opened his mouth to say so. But Legolas realizing his intent pressed his own mouth to Boromir’s in a quick, chaste kiss, stilling the words that threatened to spill out. Boromir looked at Legolas with uncertainty, but the Elf just smile, his eyes telling the Man all he wanted to know even without words. There was more than hope after all: there was love. And it is something that will be cherished and treasured by Man and Elf alike.
And with that thought warming their hearts and souls, hand in hand, they returned to their comrades and settled down, awaiting dawn in the woods of Lothlorien…
To be continued in A Cry in the Dark…
Pairing: Legolas/Boromir
Beta-Reader: Cuthalion
Feedback: Please? Yes yes yes? Thank you.
Website: http://www.nimnastian.net/nessa
E-mail: nessa_tulcakelume@hotmail.com
The wind blew coldly through the trees and before them, wide gray shadows loomed. If it were any other forest, such sights would have struck fear and terror in the hearts of Men, Elves or Hobbits. Yet, it was with eager hearts that the eight friends carried with them as they finally reach within sights of the woods of Lothlorien.
“Lothlorien!” breathed Legolas, his voice, a prayer, his eyes shining with awe and supreme joy. In the gloom of the night, even the shadows of the trees seemed to reach out to them, beckoning them, their leaves glimmering under the starlight. With a sigh, Legolas fell on to one knee, his head bowed in gratitude and awe.
The rest of the Company was not unaffected. The peaceful beauty of Lothlorien was a balm to their senses and Aragorn allowed himself to savour the feel of the wind blowing through his hair, and he felt all his fears and sorrows melting from his very bones – each breath seemed to cleanse his very soul and strength seemed to surge through his weary heart, willing him to carry on. A small, wistful smile was upon his lips.
Legolas stood his his head tossed back, his long hair blowing gently in the wind. “Here lays the woods of Lothlorien,” he said, addressing his comrades, his eyes sparkling with his excitement, “where the fairest of my people dwell. Let us hasten! Too long have we dwelt in sorrow that we forget how it feels to have peace residing within our breasts once more.” And with that, his footsteps quickened, the fervor in his expression brought about renewed vigor in the tired limbs of his friends.
Boromir smiled to himself, registering the light steps of Legolas as they pressed on towards the welcoming sight before them. It lightened his heart to see the Elf smiling once more, his eyes gleaming with anticipation of passing through the legendary woods of his kin. For several days, he had not been certain of the thoughts going through the Elf’s mind for he had remained quiet and thoughtful, especially after the incident in the woods where they had rested many nights before…
‘You do not know what you have done.’ The Elf had said and had left him afterwards, as guilt coursed though his body at the thought of having sullied what was once so pure and precious. But Boromir refused to feel regret over what he had done. How could he when the very thought of Legolas in his arms made his blood quicken and his heart sing at the memory of the embrace they had shared?
Still, the Elf had changed after that night. His expression was carefully masked whenever Boromir chanced to speak to him, his eyes giving nothing away. He would not even look at Boromir in the eye, and it was something that brought about great anguish to the Man for he longed to have the Elf look upon him with the honest, trusting eyes that he had once bestowed upon him prior to the unfortunate encounter. He would not have minded even if Legolas looked upon him with contempt. Any emotion was preferable to the distance that Legolas placed between them.
And yet, Boromir thought, and yet there were times that he felt that the Elf seemed to follow him, bright eyes watching him from stanstance, while they trudged through the wilderness. Thoughtful and solemn eyes they were too, whenever Boromir chanced to glance at Legolas when he thought the Elf wasn’t looking. And when they sat down to rest, he imagined Legolas’ legs brushing against his, and when they lay down to sleep, he imagined Legolas sitting next to him… hiss fis filled with something… something that Boromir could not name, dare not hope for… something that warmed Boromir’s heart and make him long to weep for a caress of the Elf’s fair hand upon his brows once more.
‘But it was just a dream,’ Boromir thought, as Pippin gave a cry of delight as they entered, finally, into the very woods of Lothlorien. Thoughts of Legolas were temporarily erased from his troubled mind as he noticed for the first time the beauty that surrounded him. The woods consumed him, filling his senses with a heady perfume of the greenery. It was indeed a sight to behold. The trees were tall; their branches seemed to stretch up to the heavens. He smiled and when he glanced around, he saw the same smile upon his friends’ faces too, Frodo looking happier than he had ever been, ever since they had lost Gandalf in the Mines of Moria.
“We shall rest here. Orcs would not dare enter these woods for they are well protected by the powers of the Lady Galadriel,” said Aragorn, as he relieved himself of his weapons and rolled his shoulders tiredly. Gimli gave a snort of disbelief, for he had heard many stories of the Lady of the Woods; none of them were complimentary. Aragorn just ignored him, but Boromir could see that the Ranger had a smile on his face which he had trouble concealing.
The Company built a small fire and before long the air was scented with food and filled with the sounds of the chatter of the Hobbits and of Gimli engaged in conversation with Aragorn. ‘They are probably debating over this Lady Galadriel,’ thought Boromir with a smile. He had grown to be fond of the Dwarf’s quick temper and his grumbling. His smile quickly faded as he felt Legolas settling down next to him. Not so close as to feel the heat of his body, but close enough to make his heart skip a beat. Legolas must have felt him tense, for he gave Boromir a half glance before proceeding to stare into the fire once more.
Aragorn felt the familiar stirrings of jealousy as he saw the Elf seated next to Boromir as he had done so many times before when they needed to rest. Legolas had rarely showed partiality to any of the members of the Fellowship and had almost always only talked to Aragorn about matters of the Elves and to consult him over something that was troubling him. And yet, there he was, a few feet from Boromir, not speaking but in the lines of his body, Aragorn saw the Elf’s emotional inclination towards his friend. The Ranger wondered what had transpired between the two to have the Elf drop his defenses towards one who he had spoke against, in his anger, during the Council of Elrond.
SuddenGimlGimli’s conversation seemed to be bothersome and he felt more tired then he had ever felt before. He was just about to beg leave of it and suggest that they get some sleep when he heard Boromir gave a cry of alarm as Legolas sprang to his feet in horror and stood in front of Boromir, bow and arrow ready to fire at the invisible intruder.
‘Daro,’ came a voice from up in the trees. Aragorn started, for he had not notice anyone else that would be watching them when they were busy making themselves comfortable. He paled visibly as he realized that this folly of his would have resulted in the danger of the Company’s lives. His hand crept towards his sword, his mind racing as he tried to find to source of the voice, wondering desperately if it belonged to a friend or foe.
Light laughter rang out, and Legolas dropped his weapon, his fear giving way to delight. “Haldir!” he cried out, joyfully. Aragorn once again was startled when three Elves dropped down from the very tree that he had been leaning against.
Haldir of Lorien was a tall elf, pride lined his every features and his hair shone, reflecting the red glow of the little bonfire that they had made. With him are two other elves of similar looks and height and Aragorn knew that they were Rumil and Orophin, brothers to the handsome elf that was smiling at the Company. The Hobbits stared at the Elves for they had not seen any as fair as the three that stood before them, except, possibly Legolas, whose beauty stood out like a diamond amongst a band of gold.
“Well met, Legolas! Too long had time pass since we last graced each other’s presence,” Haldir said, moving forward to lock Legolas in his tight embrace which the slender Elf returned. Boromir looked away, a grimace passing swiftly over his face. It did not go unobserved by Haldir who smiled, maybe not a pleasant smile, as he regarded the Man with cool eyes.
“I wanted to go by unnoticed while I try to find out whether you are friend or foe. But apparently you saw me, Human, and your surprised outburst had caused Legolas to lift his weapon against an old friend,” said Haldir amiably enough, but in his eyes, Boromir saw a different story.
Aragorn noticed the exchange, and rubbed his face wearily. He felt that he had aged twenty years looking at the youthful Elves before him, proud and beautiful. “Haldir,” he began, addressing the Elf who had locked his eyes onto Boromir’s. The Elf turned slightly around and noticed Aragorn as if for the first time. ‘Too much unwanted attention is placed upon Legolas,’ Aragorn thought to himself grimly as he saw Haldir turning around to his brothers, speaking softly in Elvish, w for for their ears alone. As his brothers ran off, Haldir turned to Aragorn and smiled.
“Son of Arathorn. Well met. I know what is it you want to ask of me, for the Lady of the Woods had told me of your desires for protection,” Haldir said, pausing for a moment with a raised eyebrow as he waited for Aragorn to deny that fact. When Aragorn said nothing, Haldir continued. “Rest if you must. Tomorrow, I will lead you to meet the Lady Galadriel and her Lord.”
Legolas gazed into the face of his beloved friend, his heart singing with joy. Haldir had spoken to Aragorn a little more and after a consensus had been made, Haldir turned once again to him. His familiar, beautiful smile drew a similar one from Legolas’ lips. Haldir moved towards him, and held out his hand, which Legolas eagerly took, registering his friend’s firm grip upon his fingers.
“Come, my friend,” Haldir said. “There is much we have to talk about!” Then, hand in hand, Haldir led Legolas away from his friends.
Boromir watched Haldir walk away with his treasured possession, and it seemed that with every step that Legolas took that led him away from Boromir’s side was as if every footfall was crushing his own beating heart. So acute was the agony at the sight of Legolas smiling into the handsome face of his ‘lover’ that Boromir closed his eyes, trying to block out the taunting face of Haldir’s.
‘You are not worth the dust he walks on….Man,’ came that voice in his head which he knew to be Haldir’s. And Boromir knew, deep in his heart, that the Elf was right. But it did not make the pain any easier for him to bear. He stood up suddenly, and decided that tonight was going to be another night where he would not be able to find peace in sleep.
**********
Legolas and Haldir had been walking for some time, without any clear sense of direction before the larger Elf stopped and held Legolas by his shoulders. With a sigh, Haldir lowered his lips towards Legolas’ and tentatively tasted them. His tongue slipped into the moist cavern of Legolas’ mouth, tasting the sweetness of Legolas’ own tongue, his lips stroking and seducing, coaxing Legolas into responding to his drugging assault.
It seemed long to Haldir, before he realized that Legolas was not responding. He broke off the kiss and peered into the expressive blue eyes. The look in Legolas’ eyes took his breath away. There was love, yes, but he also knew from that very look in those eyes that Legolas will never see Haldir as anything more than a friend. And the thought left a bitter taste in Haldir’s mouth.
‘It’s the Man isn’t it?’ he said in Elvish. ‘You have learned to care for him, although he had been nothing but ruthless in his pursuit of you.’ Legolas remained silent but his eyes never looked away and instead holding fast into Haldir’s own stormy ones.
‘Why did you give your heart to him Legolas? He is but a man, a mere mortal. He will never be good enough for you,’ Haldir said, frustrated, his hands repeatedly running through Legolas’ long hair and his face, a tou touching him would persuade him to change the course of his heart. Legolas’ steady gaze on his friends face confirmed what the other Elf had already suspected.
‘I do care for him Haldir, but it is not a burden to give my affections to him, no matter what you may think,’ Legolas began hesitantly. He slipped out of Haldir’s embrace, and walked several steps away from him and paused, as if trying to find words to justify the emotions he feels for Boromir. When Legolas met Haldir’s eyes again, he saw heart-wrenching sorrow in his friend’s eyes and it breaks his own heart for he knew that Haldir was devastated that he could not return the affections that was desired of him.
‘The Man is weak, yes. But in his weakness he sought to find strength within himself. It tortures him night and day to struggle with his desire for the ring and perhaps Boromir confuses that desire with his own desires for me. I could feel that war and anguish within him, tormenting him although he is not aware of the extent of its control over his own mind and sanity,’ Legolas said, pacing back and forth, almost talking to himself while Haldir’s eyes followed his every move. He then stopped suddenly, his bright eyes fixed upon Haldir’s – and the larger Elf was reminded of the reason he had fallen in love with Legolas in the first place.
‘He needs me, Haldir. I am his strength, his love, his life, his only hope and now I am bound to him, body and soul. It is a burden that I gladly partake for the Man is not without gentleness even in the summit of his passions. I know that I bring out the best in him for his eyes tell me so.’
Legolas moved towards Haldir, a soft, sad smile upon his lips and he laid a hand upon his friend’s cheek. Haldir covered that hand with his, and stared into those captivating azure eyes, blazing with emotion.
‘He does not know what he had done. He does not know that by taking my body, he has gained my undying devotion to him, till Death itself comes to claim either one of us. It is my gift to him. I have sworn to protect him, to keep him from harm. I will become his Warrior Elf,’ Legolas said, smiling as if reflecting on some fond memory. Their gaze held and after what seemed like eternity, Haldir allowed his lips to break into a reluctant smile.
‘Then I hope, my friend, that he will treat you well, and behave in such a way that is deserving of the affections of the Prince of Mirkwood, Son of Thranduil,’ Haldir said, gathering Legolas into his arms again, this time in offer of friendship.
‘Ah,’ said Legolas, his eyes sparkling with amusement, ‘I said that I will care for him and protect him. But I said not that he will behave in a manner that is appropriate towards a Prince. Perhaps I do not want him to be tamed just as yet.’
The two friends laughed and Haldir kissed Legolas’ lips in friendly affection. They sat down then, side by side, heads leaning against each other with familiarity, a small smile upon their fair faces. They did not notice someone sneaking away from the scene like a thief in the night.
*********
Boromir ran blindly through the forests. Danger or no, he had to escape the image of Haldir and Legolas together, arms locked in a tight embrace, as if they will never let go. Every step he took was a reminder of his own imperfections, his own flaws. This was why he was running away, because he knew that he would never look as Haldir did, like he belonged in the strong arms of Legolas Green Leaf. And at last, with a small cry of despair, he flung himself to the ground and pressed hisek aek against the cool ground, his breathing ragged. There was little comfort for him in this loneliness; too small perhaps, to last for long, but it was comfort nonetheless.
He turned around, his heart troubled and heavy; eyes stared forward into the night sky. The wind caressed his cheeks, the rustling leaves seemed to be a lullaby. And against all odds, Boromir found that he was so weary that when he shut his eyes, he drifted into slumber and as he did so, he imagined Legolas’ face in front of his, those lips once again smiling that half-smile Boromir loved so much…
Voices. Footsteps. And the hiss of metal brushing against armor. Boromir’s eyes flew open and his hand moved instinctively towards his sword at his side. A hand gripped his, stopping its advance and he would have given a shout of panic had not a cool, but firm hand pressed against his open lips.
“Hush,” cautioned a voice. Boromir’s eyes shot towards its source and he flushed when he saw Legolas hovering above him. He wanted to ask what the matter was but the wariness and apprehension in his Elf’s eyese hie him stop short. Legolas was crouching in a manner that he had seen before: it was a posture Legolas adopted whenever danger was near. The Elf’s eyes turned this way and that, cocking his head to one side as if listening intently, brows creased in intense concentration. And then there it was again; those voices and footsteps that do not belong to elves or man.
‘Yrch,’ hissed Legolas, springing up to his feet, on his face an expression so terrible and fierce that it took Boromir’s breath away. He pulled the Man up to his feet and then backed up against the nearest tree, pressing their backs against it. Legolas was tense against Boromir’s side as the foul voices of the Orcs seemed to draw nearer.
Then suddenly, Legolas leapt up the tree nimbly. As he perched upon a large branch he extended his arm to the worried Man below. “Hurry,” Legolas whispered, his eyes still darting about uneasily, “they are coming this way!” Boromir wasted to time in heeding the Elf’s advice. He grabbed the extended hand and with surprising ease, the Elf pulled the heavier Man onto the branch with him. Their perch gave an alarming quiver but held fast, supporting their weight. Legolas again pushed Boromir against the tree trunk and hunkered down before him as if tr to to conceal him from sight. Boromir could see the wisdom in that decision for Legolas was garbed in the colours of the forest and would be easier to conceal amongst theves ves rather then the colours of the clothing that Boromir wore. They held their breaths in apprehension while the Orcs finally came into view several stones throw away from them.
There were many of them and Boromir knew that their lives depend on the effectiveness of their concealment for two virtually unprepared warriors were no match against a band of Orcs. Besides, they could not risk open war, for the lives of the Ring bearer would be in jeopardy and the ring itself would be in danger of being stolen. It was a thought that Boromir strangely could not bear.
Legolas hardly seemed to move as he was locked in his crouching position, and the back that was presented to Boromir was straight as a rod and stiff as steel. The Orcs were moving directly under the tree that they were in and would they chance to look up, the two friends would indeed be discovered. Legolas slowly moved his back closer to Boromir until it made contact with the Man’s chest. Boromir seemed to forget how to breathe, so tense was he in his fears of being discovered and so achingly sweet was thel ofl of Legolas’ lithe form against his once more. The two were pressed so close together that they seemed to be one, for it was a matter of life and death, to make two figures blend as closely to the shadows as possible to avoid being seen.
Legolas head seemed to turn this way and that, as if waiting for something or someone. And then their silent prayers were answered. A soft chirrup of an unseen bird was heard in a nearby tree. Legolas turned his head to the direction where the sound came from and answered back with a call of his own. The Orcs were oblivious to the exchange but Boromir saw what Legolas did see. Although the Man does not have the keen eyesight of an Elf, he could barely, just barely make out two figures crouching in the tree nearest to them – they were Haldir’s brothers and their eyes were locked upon Legolas’. There seem to be an exchange of thoughts, and although no sound was made, a mutual understanding was achieved and the two brothers proceeded to create several distractions. They shifted in the trees, causing the leaves to rustle and the Orcs turned immediately to the direction of the sound.
Reacting quickly, Rumil and Orophin began speaking in high voices, mimicking the voice of the hobbits and with astonishing speed they sped off into the night, leaping with extraordinary litheness from tree to tree, and the Orcs pursued their voices, cursing and growling as they ran off into the heart of the forest.
It was a long while before the tension left Legolas’ body and when there was absolutely no sound, safe the faint rustle of the wind through the trees, he turned around to face Boromir, relief etched into his beautiful features. He smiled, the glamour and intensity of it reaching deep into the Man’s heart and seemed to squeeze painfully.
“They are gone. Rumil and Orophin will lead them to a trap. None of the Orcs will come back alive,” he said with a sigh, his eye held Borom in in a steady gaze. The Elf was still pressed lightly against him and Boromir found that he could not look into the Elf’s fair face and not feel wretched and miserable.
“I think we had better return to our friends,” Boromir murmured, looking anywhere but into the eyes of his Elf. Legolas’ silent perusal of Boromir was disconcerting. Then without a word, he reached forward to run a hand through Boromir’s matted hair.
“You should not have been alone. It would have been dangerous. You might have been killed had I not found you in time,” he said quietly, his eyes lowering sadly. Boromir turned an angry look towards the Elf. But Legolas did not cringe, instead, he held that gaze but without any expression.
“And you would have gotten your revenge,” Boromir said coldly, and tried to move away form the unsettling feel of Legolas’ warmth against his body. Legolas’ hand reached out once again to stop him, the Elf’s eyes impaling him upon his gaze.
“It will give me no pleasure to see you hurt, Son of Gondor,” said the Elf in a soft voice that would have been lost in the wind had Boromir not been so close to him. But his eye never left the Man’s face. Boromir closed his eyes in anguish and sighed long and loud.
“Why do you torture me so? I cannot but look at you and I feel as if I’m strong and yet weak. I feel anguish in my very soul yet hope dwelled there as well. And you have only to barely touch me and I am falling apart. You are making me go mad!” he said wearily.
The answer he got was firm lips covering his own and Boromir opened his eyesdisbdisbelief. But Legolas continued to press warm, firm kisses upon the Man’s trembling lips and when Boromir parted his lips to speak, the Elf slipped his tongue into Boromir’s mouth. A moan escaped into the air, as Legolas pushed himself against Boromir’s body, pinning the plaint form against the tree trunk, his hands cupping the bearded cheeks, deepening the kiss. Slowly, Legolas rubbed himself against Boromir’s hard arousal like a cat, causing the Man to pant with suppressed desires.
When it all seemed too much for him to bear, Boromir reluctantly tore his mouth away from Legolas’. “Haldir,” he began to say but Legolas stopped him with another kiss.
“He is nothing more than a dear friend to me,” the Elf whispered as he bestowed soft kisses down Boromir’s sensitized neck. Boromir gasped as the Elf’s tongue lapped at the soft skin there and the Elf’s knowing hands stroked the Man’s throbbing member through its breeches.
“But I saw you with him!” he choked out, ng tng to maintain a measure of coherence as he struggled to bite back a groan. Legolas stopped his sensuous assault on the Man’s senses and regarded him in silence before a slow smile passed over his lips. Boromir narrowed that that suspicious-looking smile.
“Ah, so that was why you sought to be alone,” Legolas all but smirked in typical male seltisftisfaction, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Boromir sulked, if it were not disrespectful to say that a grown man who have fought many battles to do so.
“Yes. I did not think you wanted to be disturbed,” he said sullenly, while his fingers unconsciously played with Legolas’ long hair, glowing silver in the moonlight.
The Elf laughed quietly and pressed his forehead against the man’s. When he met Boromir’s eyes again, he was relatively quiet but now on his face was another smile, warm and kind. Hope flared into the heart of Boromir.
“But Boromir,” Legolas said in a voice husky with passion. “You were the one who constantly disturbed my thoughts. Not Haldir. There was no need to get jealous,” he teased. Boromir gave a mock gasp of outrage afore with a growl, he wrapped himself around his Elf, grounding his lips and body against his lover’s strong form, his heart beating a wild, erratic tempo. The Elf returned his kisses, his head slanting first this way and then that, in an incredibly seductive manner, devouring the Man’s lips, as if he wanted to swallow the Man whole.
‘I can’t get get enough of you, Legolas, my love,’ Boromir thought in the midst of his passion. He felt Legolas stiffened slightly and he wondered if he had voiced his thoughts out loud. The kiss broke off and Legolas stared deep into the Man’s green eyes. Boromir stared back, not realizing that all the love he felt for the Elf is reflected in the green depths. And there was confusion as well… and desire. Legolas’ eyes darkened with response to what he saw before him and with a low growl in his throat, his nimble fingers undid Boromir’s breeches. The Man’s manhood sprang out and proudly stood at attention at the appreciative perusal of his lover’s gaze and he had the grace to blush a little.
But all pretense of decorum disappeared as Legolas lightly stroked the hard length, causing Boromir to quiver violently. It was only when he started panting and his back arched in a desperate attempt to reach his fulfillment that Legolaiftliftly took off his own leggings with amazing skill considering that they were still perched upon the branch like birds. That very thought brought a grin to Boromir’s lips and his laughing eyes met Legolas, who grinned back, eyes filled with mischief and laughter at the situation that they were in.
But laughter turned quickly to moans of ecstasy as Legolas settled slowly upon his erect member, his opening squeezing and massaging the engorged organ, a clear proof of the Man’s desire for his beautiful Elf prince. Their breathing quickened as Legolas began to move rapidly and determinedly up and down the Man’s length, setting the rhythms of their love-making with a ferocity and hunger that fanned both their heightened desires. The branches quivered alarmingly in time to their movements. Every downward stroke of Legolas’ opening to the base of Boromir’s member was sweet agony, and although the Man’s head bumped repeatedly against the trunk with the force of their union, it went unnoticed. All that matters was the building heat in his loins and that if Legolas slowed down or stopped, he would die…
And then it happened; as it had many nights before. With a guttural oath, Boromir attained his release, and his Elf followed suit, his pace never slowing, lips opened in a quiet exclamation of wonderment. But with a final wobble of the branch, the lovers felt it tip them over and with a cry of surprise; they fell to the ground, unhurt but bemused. Legolas was the first to recover from the rude interruption to his own pleasure but stared opened-mouthed as the tree quivered once again and then gave a loud ‘harrumph’ of discomfort. It blinked its yellow eyes seemingly in a daze and then proceeded to stretch its roots, or rather feet and walked away from the scene, rumbling with displeasure.
“I say, Legolas. I believe that was an Ent,” said Boromir after a moment of stunned silence. The two looked at one another for a moment before allowing themselves to laugh merrily. And it was no wonder because there they were upon the gr: tw: two warriors both alike in passion and spirit, breeches pooling at their knees, satiated for the moment after their torrid love-making only to be chastised by a tree. The situation was indeed ludicrous and they collapsed on the ground, positively howling with glee.
Boromir then stopped suddenly, his eyes shining with a love that he could not restrain and opened his mouth to say so. But Legolas realizing his intent pressed his own mouth to Boromir’s in a quick, chaste kiss, stilling the words that threatened to spill out. Boromir looked at Legolas with uncertainty, but the Elf just smile, his eyes telling the Man all he wanted to know even without words. There was more than hope after all: there was love. And it is something that will be cherished and treasured by Man and Elf alike.
And with that thought warming their hearts and souls, hand in hand, they returned to their comrades and settled down, awaiting dawn in the woods of Lothlorien…
To be continued in A Cry in the Dark…