Call of the Sea

CALL OF THE SEA


Chapter 5

Those five days were the happiest I had known.

We did not discuss the need for discretion, but at breakfast and dinner we took care to sit apart. He spent time with Elrond and his mother, I with my Mirkwood kin. The rest of the day, however, was ours.

We walked and rode in the forest, high into the valley. The days were blessed with golden sunshine, the evenings clear and still. In the warm, fragrant air we laughed and talked, played and swam, made love on the forest floor, in the sturdy branches of ancient trees, in the cold clear pools below the waterfalls. Sometimes sweet and gentle, sometimes hard and urgent, we learned the secrets of each other’s bodies, and delighted in our findings.

At night, after the feasting was over, and we had sat with our friends for a while listening to tales and song, I would slip through the quiet corridors to find him waiting for me in his bed. On that first afternoon, when finally we lay together, spent and silent, tracing gentle designs on skin with lazy fingers, he had asked me, tentatively,

“Will staystay here with me tonight?”

“You would have to lock your door again, to keep me away,” I murmured in response, and kissed him once more.

At some point shortly before dawn he would finally give in to sleep, and I would hold him, watching him in his lovely vulnerability, memorising every detail of his strong, scarred, weather beaten form. Everythinat sat set him apart from me, his human imperfections, the soft hair on his chest, his gentle snoring, his sweat, even his beard - which had initially repulsed me; I found that they moved me now to an impossible degree.

I am sure that I realised, even on the first night, that what I felt for Aragorn was more than a happy coincidence of friendship and lust; but I did not give a name to my thoughts. I could think on it at length when we had parted, as we must by the end of the week, each returning to his own responsibilities. For now I wanted simply to enjoy the moments we hadetheether.

On the fifth day we walked in the forest hand in hand. We laughed little, avoided talking of the reason for our sadness, but it stood between us for a while. There would be time enough for that, and I did not wish our last evening together to be blighted by it. I led him to the shade of a large plane tree on a mossy bank, and slipped off my boots, motioning to him to do the same. I sat with my back to the tree trunk, and he sat between my raised knees, back against my c, he, head on my shoulder. I held him then, rested my head on the bark of the ancient tree, felt the moss between my toes, and became still.

I do not know how long we sat there. After a while I sang to him, the song of the forest, as it filled me. I felt my sorrow leave me as the ancient wisdom of the Earth and the trees flowed in my veins and the knowledge of my place in the world – so central and yet so insignificant - overcame me. I was only half aware of his shoulders sagging, relaxation stealing through him, his weight falling more completely onto me, but eventually, some time after my song had finished, he shifted and turned in my arms.

His eyes and face were wet with tears, but he was smiling. His “Thank you,” was barely more than a whisper.

We made love there on the moss beneath the tree, and I use the term deliberately, because there could be no doubt that this was beyond mere lust. He kissed every inch of my body, with a reverence almost unbearably sweet, and brought me to my climax in his mouth, with soft, slow movements of tongue and lips that seemed to last a lifetime in that golden afternoon.

That night as we lay in his bed I too succumbed to sleep, briefly, some hours before morning.

I dreamed of Aragorn. He stood before me, dressed in fine clothes such as I had never seen on a man. A green gem was on his breast and a silver circlet on his head. He wore a cloak the colour of midnight and a great sword hung at his belt. His eyes were full of sorrow as they held mine. I tried to speak to him, but no words came from my mouth, and an immense grief filled me. “I am sorry,” he said in a low voice, then turned from me, walked through an archway of stone, and was gone from my sight.

I awoke, and lay for some time, feeling his breath on my cheek and the weight of his arm across my chest. I do not have the gift of prescience som some of my kin do, but I felt sure that this dream was not to be ignored. I pondered its meaning for a while, then slipped from the bed, a certainty growing in my mind. Aragorn stirred, but settled again; when I was confident that he would sleep on, I pulled on a robe and left the room.

Elrond’s library was large and gloomy, and I knew little of the arrangement of the books there. It took me a while to find what I wanted, with the light of a single candle to help me, but at last I settled on a bench with the great book before me.

I had read for maybe an hour when I became aware of another’s approach. I should not, I suppose, have been surprised to see Elrond before me. As with Mithrandir, it seems that few of his actions occur by chance. He seemed unsurprised to see me, although his face rarely gives much away.

“Prince Legolas,” He sat across from me and fixed me with his level gaze. “Are you well? It is not your habit to rest here in the night.”

“I awoke with a mind full of questions, Lord Elrond, and thought that I may find some answers here.”

“The answer you find here is as likely to be another question, is it not?” he said innocently, but I was not fooled. He is not regarded as wise amongst the wise for no reason.

“And to that other question, I believe you may have the answer, my lord, if I may ask.”

“Ask as you will, Legolas, and I shall answer, if I may.” He smiled at me, a smile of infinite wisdom and patience, it seemed.

“Arag- Estel and I have become close, as you know. His friendship means a great deal to me,” I started off, remembering too late to use Aragorn’s more public name.

Elrond’s lips twitched briefly, and he appeared for a moment as a young man. “I do not believe he would object to you using his true name before me.” I glanced down to avoid meeting his eye, for I was afraid I might blush. “You are rare and precious to him; he has few he can trust outside Rivendell.”

I had to meet his eye again as I asked, “Lord Elrond, he is the one, is he not?” I did not need to explain further, I was sure he understood my meaning.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, very softly.

I thought for a moment. “From the moment we met, I was conscious of his . . . destiny . . . before him, I can not explain how. At first I thought only of his fight against the dark forces as leader of the Dunedain. I am not so familiar with the lore of his people, as you see,” I gestured to the book on my lap. “But I have watched him in battle, and more, taking the mantle of leadership without even realising it, and wearing it so well . . . and I have felt it, and dreamed of it . . . am I not right?”

Elrond sighed. “It is not for me to say what will be in the future, Legolas. But my heart has long told me that he is indeed the one. The day is not yet at hand, but it will not be long coming; Narsil will be renewed, and Aragorn’s shall be the hand that holds it.”

A shiver ran through me. “I know all too well that the darkness is rising – for many years now we have fought it in Mirkwood. But the evil you speak of is greater still, I fear.”

“Indeed, and ours may be the final chance to fight it. It is an unspeakable burden for one man’s shoulders, even a man such as Aragorn.”

“But he knows?” The question sounded foolish to my ears. Elrond did not seem to think so.

“He has yet to accept the full implications of his destiny. I believe he does know what he must do, but he has still to grow in strength and wisdom. It is a choice he must make from his heart.”

We sat in silence for a time. My mind was in turmoil, but one thought stood out clearly. I needed to say it.

“When the day comes, Lord Elrond, he will not be alone. I do not know what little part there may be for me to play, but I will play it willingly. I would gladly stand beside him and face the evil with him. uld uld ask you to remember that, when it is time, and you counsel him.”

He looked at me, and I could not avert my gaze. I had the uncomfortable feeling that he was searching my soul. “There will be a part for you, a not insignificant one, of that I am strangely sure,” he said slowly. “And it gives me comfort to know that he will have your warrior’s skill andr str strength of spirit at his side in the hour of need. You are good for him, Legolas.”

I was very aware of the flush of colour in my face, and could only hope that the candle’s light was too dim to show it.

He rose from the bench. “Have I answered your question?” he asked.

“You have. Thank you, lord Elrond.”

“Then perhaps we can each return to our beds in peace?” He gestured towards the corridor which led to his chambers, and, indirectly, to mine; but not to Aragorn’s.

I stood and waved the book vaguely towards the shelves. “I shall replace this first.”

“Indeed.” His lips twitched again before he turned and left the library. I was suddenly absolutely sure that he knew I had no intention of returning to my own room, and knew exactly why. For some reason, it did not worry me at all.