Coming Home
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,099
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,099
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
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.
Chapter 3
Coming Home, Chapter 3
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It was very little time before they were riding out of the city. Legolas on his own horse, Aragorn one of the gentler mares. Legolas spent some time talking to the skittish young stallion that he had recently acquired. It had settled under his expert touch, but Aragorn wasn’t prepared to trust himself on its back. Not just yet anyway. He didn’t want his neck broken.
Aragorn couldn’t help but envy the ease with which Legolas rode. Even in his condition, he did far more than sit on top of the horse, he was moving with the horse. He didn’t seem to be guiding the horse...the animal could have been reading Legolas’s mind for all Aragorn knew. Legolas wasn’t even sitting astride the massive dappled silver stallion. He had one leg dangling over it’s side, the other folded across Abseforth’s neck. It seemed precarious until Aragorn realized that the stallion, while moving quickly enough, was actively avoiding jostling Legolas from his perch.
Legolas smiled brightly at him, and Aragorn returned the grin. It was clear Legolas was relieved to leave the city behind for the countryside. In truth so was he. Leaving behind the mantle of leadership and responsibility to ride, anonymously, through the terrain was... liberating. It also left him with nothing to think about but Legolas.
Arwen was being amazing. Not a hint of resentment or jealousy, just concern for Legolas. No matter what it took, she wanted him to help Legolas. Unfortunately, Legolas was showing very little indication of allowing help from anyone. He understood, to a degree. Legolas wanted to maintain his independence for as long as he could. Last night, holding him in his arms, had been... magical. Even after half a decade, Legolas still *fit* him in a way no one else, even Arwen, ever could. The thought of loosing that forever was more than painful. It was incomprehensible and nearly incapacitating.
After several miles they found a nice brook, with lots of lush grass for the horses, and several widely spaced trees offering their shade. Legolas dismounted with less than his customary grace, but steadied himself with a hand against his horse’s neck for a moment. He was clearly dizzy, but when Aragorn moved toward him, he held up a hand to stop his approach.
Finally he looked up, and smiled tiredly. “I’m all right.”
“Of course you are,” Aragorn humored him. “Let's sit here and enjoy the day.”
Legolas shook his head slightly, as he crossed to sit beneath one of the ancient oaks, leaning his back against the trunk. Tipping his head back he looked into the leafy canopy. He seemed so at ease there, so at peace, that Aragorn smiled, in spite of the ache that had been growing in his chest since Legolas had told them why he had came ‘home’.
Aragorn settled himself beside Legolas, sharing the tree to rest his back against. Legolas opened his eyes and turned to smile lazily at him, and Aragorn didn’t stop to think before brushing his lips against Legolas’s. The slightly dry, very warm lips beneath his softened immediately and Legolas sighed slighty before pulling back.
“Arwen. Elendi.” Legolas reminded Aragorn gently.
“It’s ok,” Aragorn said softly, pulling Legolas closer. Legolas stiffened slightly, but almost immediately relaxed into the comfort of the familiar body, “she knows.”
Legolas looked at him with something very like shock and Aragorn chuckled softly, “Do you honestly think I could hide anything from her?”
“No...definately not.”
“Mm. Good.” Aragorn said before reclaiming Legolas’s mouth. There was no urgency, or passion. The kiss was slow, gentle, and had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with love, affection and friendship.
When the kiss broke, Legolas melted against Aragorn, basking in his warmth and strength like a lizard on a hot rock.
Aragorn could feel Legolas growing heavier against him, and sensed him fighting sleep, “You can sleep.”
“mm. No.” Legolas said succinctly, “I’ve got all eternity for sleep.”
Aragorn’s grip tightened involuntarily until Legolas was forced to squirm uncomfortably. Aragorn forced himself to loosen his arms and looked down to where Legolas was resting his head against his chest, one thin arm resting across his waist.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” Legolas admitted, “Ill. Old. I think perhaps by the end I shall be grateful for the respite death offers.”
“Will you really?”
“You’re too observant by half Strider. No. I have no doubt that I will always prefer life to death.. I love this world too much to let it go easily.”
“I know,” Aragorn said simply. He did. Legolas had a zeal for life that was rarely seen among immortals. They eventually settled into a kind of languor that Legolas, in spite of his centuries never had. Even in pain, or hurting emotionally, he *lived* with an intensity that was beautiful and, at times, frightening.
Legolas freed himself from the human and walked to the horses and came back with their lunch, and water skin. After taking a drink he broke one of the small loaves of bread in half, handing the water and bread to Aragorn and settling himself between Aragorn's upraised knees, resting his back against the broader chest of the king.
Aragorn ate his bread thinking that he’d missed simple meals, and that for all the skill of Gondor’s chefs, there was nothing that could compare to plain food, eaten in the open air, surrounded by nature. Legolas ate more slowly, and he was clearly eating in order to live, not out of any enjoyment... but he ate.
THey finished the simple fare in silence, and Aragorn watched Legolas watch the fluffy white clouds scuttling past with the aid of a slight breeze. “It’s been good out on the road,” Legolas said when Aragorn draped his arms over the elves shoulders, “but it’s good to be home.”
“Home?” Aragorn queried quietly. This was something he’d been curious about.
“Home is where the heart is. Would you rather I have gone back to Mirkwood?”
“Of course not,” Aragorn tightened his grip slightly, squeezing Legolas gently, “I was just surprised you came to Gondor. You are not a city creature my friend.”
“You couldn’t dream of the things I’ve seen, the places I’ve been,” Legolas replied after a moment, “but... you are home.”
“ I’m glad you came back to me, mellon nin.” Aragorn’s voice was thick and choked with suppressed emotion that he wasn’t ready to set free... Dammit, he needed to be strong for Legolas, not break down on him.
Legolas twisted deftly in his grip, and sat up, facing him. “Aragorn,” he said, cupping the familiar cheek in his hand, and stroking over his face with a thumb, wiping away the tear that escaped him. “I’m sorry... I never meant to hurt you.”
Aragorn smiled shakily, “You would have preferred perhaps if I’d been glad to hear you were going to be, very permanently, leaving me? That I’d never be able to touch you or hold you or hear your voice again.”
“Sh.” Legolas said, silencing Aragorn with the tips of his fingers, “I am here *now*. Don’t let the future intrude on the present.”
Aragorn held Legolas’s face between shaking hands anssedssed him again. This time it was full of hunger and need and ...peraperation. Legolas groaned as he parted his lips, opening to Aragorn and yielding to him.
When Aragorn’s hands refused to cooperate Legolas helped him, removing both of their clothes. He allowed himself to be pushed back onto the grass. Aragon’s desperation seemed to cool at the last moment and he gentled, watching Legolas’s face intently for any sign of pain. He could not, would not, hurt him. Not now, and never again.
Legolas winced very slightly when Aragorn pushed into him, but settled quickly. Aragorn paused, brushing the hair out of his face, and kissing him gently. Legolas returned the kiss and after a moment they began to move together. Slowly, in an age old expression of love.
Climax snuck up on them, blind siding them and taking them by surprise with it’s suddenness and intensity. The spiral down was just as slow, and it was long moments before either could move, or speak. When Aragorn finally came aware it was to Legolas shivering in his arms, and the realization that at some point the sun had began its descent.
“We should get you back to the castle, and bathed and put to bed.”
Legolas cocked his head to one side, and replied quite seriously, “Yes, and perhaps you should change my diaper and see if Arwen will breast-feed me whilst you are at it.” But there was no real protest. He was tired, and cold.
Aragorn snorted as he helped Legolas up. “Are you all right?”
Legolas nodded and kissed him briefly, “I am better than all right. Come. Lets get back before they send a search party out for their missing patriarch.”
------------------------------------
It was very little time before they were riding out of the city. Legolas on his own horse, Aragorn one of the gentler mares. Legolas spent some time talking to the skittish young stallion that he had recently acquired. It had settled under his expert touch, but Aragorn wasn’t prepared to trust himself on its back. Not just yet anyway. He didn’t want his neck broken.
Aragorn couldn’t help but envy the ease with which Legolas rode. Even in his condition, he did far more than sit on top of the horse, he was moving with the horse. He didn’t seem to be guiding the horse...the animal could have been reading Legolas’s mind for all Aragorn knew. Legolas wasn’t even sitting astride the massive dappled silver stallion. He had one leg dangling over it’s side, the other folded across Abseforth’s neck. It seemed precarious until Aragorn realized that the stallion, while moving quickly enough, was actively avoiding jostling Legolas from his perch.
Legolas smiled brightly at him, and Aragorn returned the grin. It was clear Legolas was relieved to leave the city behind for the countryside. In truth so was he. Leaving behind the mantle of leadership and responsibility to ride, anonymously, through the terrain was... liberating. It also left him with nothing to think about but Legolas.
Arwen was being amazing. Not a hint of resentment or jealousy, just concern for Legolas. No matter what it took, she wanted him to help Legolas. Unfortunately, Legolas was showing very little indication of allowing help from anyone. He understood, to a degree. Legolas wanted to maintain his independence for as long as he could. Last night, holding him in his arms, had been... magical. Even after half a decade, Legolas still *fit* him in a way no one else, even Arwen, ever could. The thought of loosing that forever was more than painful. It was incomprehensible and nearly incapacitating.
After several miles they found a nice brook, with lots of lush grass for the horses, and several widely spaced trees offering their shade. Legolas dismounted with less than his customary grace, but steadied himself with a hand against his horse’s neck for a moment. He was clearly dizzy, but when Aragorn moved toward him, he held up a hand to stop his approach.
Finally he looked up, and smiled tiredly. “I’m all right.”
“Of course you are,” Aragorn humored him. “Let's sit here and enjoy the day.”
Legolas shook his head slightly, as he crossed to sit beneath one of the ancient oaks, leaning his back against the trunk. Tipping his head back he looked into the leafy canopy. He seemed so at ease there, so at peace, that Aragorn smiled, in spite of the ache that had been growing in his chest since Legolas had told them why he had came ‘home’.
Aragorn settled himself beside Legolas, sharing the tree to rest his back against. Legolas opened his eyes and turned to smile lazily at him, and Aragorn didn’t stop to think before brushing his lips against Legolas’s. The slightly dry, very warm lips beneath his softened immediately and Legolas sighed slighty before pulling back.
“Arwen. Elendi.” Legolas reminded Aragorn gently.
“It’s ok,” Aragorn said softly, pulling Legolas closer. Legolas stiffened slightly, but almost immediately relaxed into the comfort of the familiar body, “she knows.”
Legolas looked at him with something very like shock and Aragorn chuckled softly, “Do you honestly think I could hide anything from her?”
“No...definately not.”
“Mm. Good.” Aragorn said before reclaiming Legolas’s mouth. There was no urgency, or passion. The kiss was slow, gentle, and had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with love, affection and friendship.
When the kiss broke, Legolas melted against Aragorn, basking in his warmth and strength like a lizard on a hot rock.
Aragorn could feel Legolas growing heavier against him, and sensed him fighting sleep, “You can sleep.”
“mm. No.” Legolas said succinctly, “I’ve got all eternity for sleep.”
Aragorn’s grip tightened involuntarily until Legolas was forced to squirm uncomfortably. Aragorn forced himself to loosen his arms and looked down to where Legolas was resting his head against his chest, one thin arm resting across his waist.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” Legolas admitted, “Ill. Old. I think perhaps by the end I shall be grateful for the respite death offers.”
“Will you really?”
“You’re too observant by half Strider. No. I have no doubt that I will always prefer life to death.. I love this world too much to let it go easily.”
“I know,” Aragorn said simply. He did. Legolas had a zeal for life that was rarely seen among immortals. They eventually settled into a kind of languor that Legolas, in spite of his centuries never had. Even in pain, or hurting emotionally, he *lived* with an intensity that was beautiful and, at times, frightening.
Legolas freed himself from the human and walked to the horses and came back with their lunch, and water skin. After taking a drink he broke one of the small loaves of bread in half, handing the water and bread to Aragorn and settling himself between Aragorn's upraised knees, resting his back against the broader chest of the king.
Aragorn ate his bread thinking that he’d missed simple meals, and that for all the skill of Gondor’s chefs, there was nothing that could compare to plain food, eaten in the open air, surrounded by nature. Legolas ate more slowly, and he was clearly eating in order to live, not out of any enjoyment... but he ate.
THey finished the simple fare in silence, and Aragorn watched Legolas watch the fluffy white clouds scuttling past with the aid of a slight breeze. “It’s been good out on the road,” Legolas said when Aragorn draped his arms over the elves shoulders, “but it’s good to be home.”
“Home?” Aragorn queried quietly. This was something he’d been curious about.
“Home is where the heart is. Would you rather I have gone back to Mirkwood?”
“Of course not,” Aragorn tightened his grip slightly, squeezing Legolas gently, “I was just surprised you came to Gondor. You are not a city creature my friend.”
“You couldn’t dream of the things I’ve seen, the places I’ve been,” Legolas replied after a moment, “but... you are home.”
“ I’m glad you came back to me, mellon nin.” Aragorn’s voice was thick and choked with suppressed emotion that he wasn’t ready to set free... Dammit, he needed to be strong for Legolas, not break down on him.
Legolas twisted deftly in his grip, and sat up, facing him. “Aragorn,” he said, cupping the familiar cheek in his hand, and stroking over his face with a thumb, wiping away the tear that escaped him. “I’m sorry... I never meant to hurt you.”
Aragorn smiled shakily, “You would have preferred perhaps if I’d been glad to hear you were going to be, very permanently, leaving me? That I’d never be able to touch you or hold you or hear your voice again.”
“Sh.” Legolas said, silencing Aragorn with the tips of his fingers, “I am here *now*. Don’t let the future intrude on the present.”
Aragorn held Legolas’s face between shaking hands anssedssed him again. This time it was full of hunger and need and ...peraperation. Legolas groaned as he parted his lips, opening to Aragorn and yielding to him.
When Aragorn’s hands refused to cooperate Legolas helped him, removing both of their clothes. He allowed himself to be pushed back onto the grass. Aragon’s desperation seemed to cool at the last moment and he gentled, watching Legolas’s face intently for any sign of pain. He could not, would not, hurt him. Not now, and never again.
Legolas winced very slightly when Aragorn pushed into him, but settled quickly. Aragorn paused, brushing the hair out of his face, and kissing him gently. Legolas returned the kiss and after a moment they began to move together. Slowly, in an age old expression of love.
Climax snuck up on them, blind siding them and taking them by surprise with it’s suddenness and intensity. The spiral down was just as slow, and it was long moments before either could move, or speak. When Aragorn finally came aware it was to Legolas shivering in his arms, and the realization that at some point the sun had began its descent.
“We should get you back to the castle, and bathed and put to bed.”
Legolas cocked his head to one side, and replied quite seriously, “Yes, and perhaps you should change my diaper and see if Arwen will breast-feed me whilst you are at it.” But there was no real protest. He was tired, and cold.
Aragorn snorted as he helped Legolas up. “Are you all right?”
Legolas nodded and kissed him briefly, “I am better than all right. Come. Lets get back before they send a search party out for their missing patriarch.”