Blood And Gold
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
3,843
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
3,843
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
possessed
Why did I not fight them? Why did I let it happen? SURELY, I was stronger than that? And yet, I was standing there, with the taste of him in my mouth, and the shame of that thing in my heart…I could feel the blood trickling down my stomach…and I couldn’t move, for shame; that I was nothing more to him…to the both of them…that I had not stopped him, not in Moria, and not in Lothlorien’s shade. I should have lashed out…I should have proved that I was stronger than that…
Shame, because I had felt the desire rise in me. Because it tormented me STILL, even as he walked away…
I lost myself in Lothlorien’s shadows, found a place where I was sure that neither of them would ever stumble on me. So many things warred in me; anger, because he had used me, because Boromir had FORCED me, in such a way. Confusion because I had not found the strength in me to push him away, as I surely should have done. And shame, because doing what Boromir made me do, had not been so terrible, because I imagined that it was ARAGORN’s body that was so close…and yet.
And yet he made me so angry, because he thought he could control me…he could own me, but he would not dare LOVE me…Which is what I wanted. All I desired. I thought that I could bear Boromir’s hands on me, if Aragorn would just tell me that he loved me…
It would never be…
Hurting, in a place that I could not touch, I sat down, pressing my back against the living wood, letting my knees fall apart, my desire still an aching burning thing. And, surely, as lost as I was in Lothlorien’s dark, there would be no-one who would see? Closing my eyes, I pushed my hand past the tightness of clothing, closing my fingers around myself, trying to pretend that it was Aragorn’s touch, and not my own that I felt…stroking, back and forth, building and coaxing the desire in me…
And….
And….>
‘Legolas?’
I teetered on the very brink of my release, and then his voice FROZE me, and the shame doubled in me, and the blood rose, and I dared not open my eyes, for the humiliation of it. Because I could not bear the thought of him seeing me like I was, Aragorn, son of Arathorn.
I still could not open my eyes, as he stood me up, turning me away from me, taking me, possessing me…cold, and functional…Never hurting me, but WOUNDING me, none the less, and his seed filled me…As he turned away, and left me, alone, with his leavings cooling in me…
There was no desire…no love in me any longer. Just hurt…Just anger.
I would not let this continue.
Shame, because I had felt the desire rise in me. Because it tormented me STILL, even as he walked away…
I lost myself in Lothlorien’s shadows, found a place where I was sure that neither of them would ever stumble on me. So many things warred in me; anger, because he had used me, because Boromir had FORCED me, in such a way. Confusion because I had not found the strength in me to push him away, as I surely should have done. And shame, because doing what Boromir made me do, had not been so terrible, because I imagined that it was ARAGORN’s body that was so close…and yet.
And yet he made me so angry, because he thought he could control me…he could own me, but he would not dare LOVE me…Which is what I wanted. All I desired. I thought that I could bear Boromir’s hands on me, if Aragorn would just tell me that he loved me…
It would never be…
Hurting, in a place that I could not touch, I sat down, pressing my back against the living wood, letting my knees fall apart, my desire still an aching burning thing. And, surely, as lost as I was in Lothlorien’s dark, there would be no-one who would see? Closing my eyes, I pushed my hand past the tightness of clothing, closing my fingers around myself, trying to pretend that it was Aragorn’s touch, and not my own that I felt…stroking, back and forth, building and coaxing the desire in me…
And….
And….>
‘Legolas?’
I teetered on the very brink of my release, and then his voice FROZE me, and the shame doubled in me, and the blood rose, and I dared not open my eyes, for the humiliation of it. Because I could not bear the thought of him seeing me like I was, Aragorn, son of Arathorn.
I still could not open my eyes, as he stood me up, turning me away from me, taking me, possessing me…cold, and functional…Never hurting me, but WOUNDING me, none the less, and his seed filled me…As he turned away, and left me, alone, with his leavings cooling in me…
There was no desire…no love in me any longer. Just hurt…Just anger.
I would not let this continue.