Ringspell

Chapter 7.


Ringspell...


"It's gone!"


"What?"


"The ring! It's gone! Someone's taken it!"


Aragorn flew out of his blankets, sword half-drawn and ready for battle before he had even opened his eyes. Scanning the room, he accounted for seven of his eight companions.


"Where is the Elf?" Boromir voiced the Ranger's own concern.


With everyone else cluttering around Frodo who looked ready to faint, or ridiculously searching under chairs and behind tables for the One Ring, Aragorn ran out of the room and headed for the last place he had seen Legolas. He took the stairs three at a time and burst out onto the parapet like a whirlwind, his eyes burned by the bright light of day. There was no sign of his friend. His heart thumping at breakneck pace, he turned around and bolted back down the stairs.


Had he time to think about it, Aragorn might have wondered whether it was concern for the quest that had urged him into such panic; or for Legolas, should he have taken the Ring, and what might happen to the beautiful Elf if someone else found him first. By the time he reached the ground floor, the Ranger had chosen his next course. He ran, full tilt to the back of the great ante-chamber and through the door that led to the caverns beneath the fort.


He stumbled several times on his way down the long flights of stairs to the cave and in his haste, almost fell headlong to the bottom. He learned his lesson, and tackled the thin path around the underground lake with considerably more caution. He passed the pillar on which the dark, glowing orb had been found and followed the path carved by the water for another hundred yards. There was still no sign of Legolas, except the candlelight that shone further downstream.


He rounded another sharp curve and found himself in a huge, dimly-lit cavern. In the center of the room, behind a red, gossamer curtain, stood an enormous, canopied bed. The sheer red drapes obscured his view, but Aragorn was sure he could see movement behind them and he approached, on trembling legs.


He hesitated, his hand poised to pull back the curtain and he almost turned and ran from the cavern, back to the surface, to tell the Fellowship that he could not find Legolas or the Ring. But a darker part of him fought the urge to retreat, demanding that he see the creature he knew lay so close. Holding his breath, he drew back the curtain.


The sight which confronted him left him frozen, captivated, paralyzed by fear and lust as they struggled for dominion over him. Behind the curtain, clad only in his leather pants, slung low on his hips, the beautiful Elf Legolas, lay writhing like a wanton whore on the bed, tangled in blood-red satin sheets. Next to him on the bed, under the Elfs' delicate hand, lay the orb Gandalf had taken from the cavern behind them, and it was glowing hotly, pulsing with life. Around the Elfs' long, graceful neck hung a silver chain and, held in the creature's soft, pink lips, the One Ring burned with red fire.


The Elf saw Aragorn, but did not still his writhing, continuing to toss and turn, panting heavily through his parted lips, his tongue tasting the One Ring. And as he did so, he stared back at the breathless Ranger, his shining blue eyes piercing through Aragorn's own and, like on the banks of the Anduín that seemed so far away, Isuldurs' heir feared the Elven Prince could see his soul and the secret, unspoken desires that lay hidden there. Aragorn tried to swallow but his mouth was bone-dry.


The Elf that lay before him could not be the noble creature he had traveled with. It's free hand caressing it's own flesh, the eyes burning with lust, face slack with pleasure. A small, pitiful sound escaped the moist lips and the Ring fell from the Elfs' mouth as it succumbed to rapture, arching it's back and rubbing itself indecently between leather-clad thighs. The panting and moaning eased for a moment, before Legolas uttered something Aragorn could not quite make out. He did not have to try though, as the lustful Elf soon repeated the word, loud and clear.


"Ada...*"


If possible, the orb by Legolas' side glowed even brighter with every sound that passed from that sweet mouth and likewise, the enchanted Elfs' pleasure heightened before Aragorn's eyes. He knew he should be disgusted by what he what he seeing, but he reveled in the gaze of this noble Prince, reduced to such a shameless display of decadence and depravity. Desperately, the Elf called out again, his eyes shining with tears as he sought release.


"Leitho-nin Ada..*"


Thought became impossible for Aragorn, as the impassioned warrior uttered his pleas, deep blue eyes piercing the Ranger's heart and sending rivers of fire to his loin. Driven by uncontrollable lust, Aragorn reached out towards Legolas, yearning to share in the heat that radiated from the Elven flesh. When his hand brushed the Elfs' skin, though, it was not pleasure he found.


A bolt of burning white-light flashed before the Ranger's eyes, robbing him of his sight and he fell back, feeling as though he had just been struck hard in the face. He shook his head violently, trying to rid himself of the delirium which swept over him in violent waves, threatening to pull him into unconsciousness. His hand felt on fire where he had touched the lusting Elf and he closed his eyes against the pain.


Before him shone a wall of red and yellow flame, writhing and roiling around a slit of absolute darkness. The Great Eye, was fixed upon him. Echoing through his consciousness like a thousand great and terrible voices, three words: I see you.


With a cry of pain and anger, he opened his burning eyes and slowly, out of blackness, the cavern and the bed and Legolas, still wallowing in ecstasy, faded into view. The Elf looked at him now. Not through him as before, but directly at him, Aragorn, the Man who had just touched his heated flesh and Legolas' eyes were filled with a new lust.


The Elf slid up onto his knees, rolling the glowing orb carelessly before him as he crawled, low and cat-like across the bed, towards the Ranger, eyes roaming hungrily over Aragorn's face and body, lingering dangerously on the throbbing, painful erection that filled his pants. At the edge of the bed, Legolas stopped his advance, curling his legs up under his body and holding the orb with both hands in the space between his wide-spread thighs. Aragorn gazed down at the alluring creature before him.


On his knees, Legolas was still writhing, possessed by his unspent yearning and he looked longingly, through half-lidded eyes back at the Man, licking his lips and moaning, breathlessly. The orb between the Elfs' legs flared anew, and Legolas was again engulfed in pleasure, crying out as though mortally wounded, and removing one hand from the orb to rub himself viciously, desperate for friction. His head fell forward and Aragorn's view of the Elfs' exquisite face was obscured by the long lustrous hair that fell in golden waves before his eyes. Frustrated and without thinking, Aragorn reached out, to push the Elfs' hair back from his face.


Again he was blinded by the white-light and pain hammered in his skull, but this time the Ranger had had enough. He did not retreat from Legolas, but grabbed the Elf by the upper arm, hauling the slender form from the bed and into his arms, with one fluid movement.


The orb thumped to the ground, and the fire that burned inside it died, as it rolled lifelessly down the slope of the cave-floor, towards the pool of water in the center of the room. Legolas cried out again, the sound not one of pleasure, but of anguish, and he fought desperately to escape from Aragorn's tight embrace. Unable to break free, the Elf then turned on his captor, striking him viciously in the face, and almost slipping from the Ranger's grasp.


In an effort to protect himself, Aragorn grabbed the Elf by both wrists, trying to pin his arms behind his back, but the young warrior was deceptively strong and struggled to great effect. Realizing he was losing the advantage, Aragorn threw all his weight against the Elfs' smaller body and sent them both crashing to the bed. Legolas thrashed wildly beneath him but the Ranger had pure size in his favor and now easily pinned the Elfs' arms on either side of his head, crushing the breath out of the young Elf, leaving him weak and effectively helpless.


"Eteleht-nin* Aragorn!" Legolas demanded fiercely.


Seeing little reason to go on struggling with the Elf, as the orb would surely have fallen into the lake by now, Aragorn was about to comply when, looking down upon the beautiful form beneath him, he noticed the One Ring hanging from the creature's neck. Momentarily releasing one of Legolas' wrists, he reached down, took hold of the silver chain at his friend's throat and snapped it, hurling the chain, and the Ring across the cavern. Legolas renewed his attempts to escape but Aragorn's weight was still too much for the exhausted Elf and he soon tired and surrendered, sinking down into the bed.


Seeing that his captive had given up, Aragorn allowed himself to relax a little. His body still covering the Elf, he settled his weight onto his elbows and gazed fondly down at the beautiful Prince, relishing the view from this rare vantage point. Legolas returned his look calmly, his breath returning to normal and his face, once again, the carefully constructed mask which he always wore, and behind which Aragorn could not see.


"You should have told me, Legolas." Aragorn gently chided the Elf, who suddenly looked very young, after the passion and violence of a moment ago.


"About Ada?" Legolas' sweet voice returned.


Aragorn nodded. His friend lowered his eyes, and Aragorn followed his gaze, to the jewel which hung around his own neck.


"Do you hate me now?" Legolas asked, raising his eyes again to meet Aragorn's. "Now that you know what I am?"


Despite his best efforts, Aragorn smiled at the innocence of the question and the fact that, had he hated the Elf, Legolas would probably have paid for his theft with his life.


"No, mellon-nin. I do not hate you." He assured the beautiful creature. "How could I?"


Swept up in some brotherly need to comfort Legolas, he ran his fingers through the pale, silken hair which framed his friends' face and leaned forward, to place a gentle kiss on the Elfs' forehead. He lingered for longer than he had first intended, breathing the fresh, woodland scent of the Prince's hair. The kiss finally broken, he reluctantly lifted his head and hovered, inches from his companion's face. The kiss had earned him a smile from the lovely Elf and Aragorn's heart leapt with joy at the sight of it.


"You are very beautiful."


The Elfs' smile spilled into his eyes, lighting up his face and he laughed softly.


"Hannon-le.*"


He said, in his flawless voice and without warning, slid his hand behind Aragorn's neck, pulling the Ranger down and pressing his soft, moist lips gently against the Man's own. A startled sound escaped Aragorn's mouth before he could catch it, changing to a deep, guttural moan as the vibration it caused against the Elfs' lips electrified both their bodies, swiftly turning tenderness into carnality.


The kiss deepened as Aragorn's tongue probed the soft lips for entry. Legolas consented eagerly, parting his lips and making pretty, covetous noises as Aragorn plunged his tongue into the Elfs' hot, wet mouth.


They tasted each other hungrily now, their passion-play stirring them into a frenzy and the Elf began to rub himself against Aragorn's body, as wanton now as when it was his absent father who pleasured him, digging his fingers deep into the Man's shoulders as he strove for more contact.


"What is going on down here!?"


Gandalfs' harsh voice cut through the couple's revelry like a knife and Aragorn raised his head and looked down at Legolas now, as though only just realizing who it was that lay beneath him.


"Aragorn? Is that you?"


The old Wizard rounded the river-bend and entered the chamber just as the Ranger threw himself from the bed, backing up several paces and leaving Legolas where he lay, mild amusement registering on the Elfs' fine features.


"Gandalf..."


Aragorn searched for words, guilt driving him to find some sort of cover for the compromising position he had been found in. The old Man gave him no chance though, striding past him and grabbing Legolas by the arm, hauling him off the bed and rounding viciously on the young Prince.


"Where is it?!" Gandalf screamed in the Elfs' face. "Where is the Ring, pheredil?!* You will tell me or by the Gods -!"


He began to shake Legolas violently, words unable to contain his rage. The Elf made no move to defend himself, bowing his head in surrender and Aragorn feared for his friend's safety as Gandalf continued to interrogate the young Prince.


Looking around, Aragorn spotted the Ring, laying on the ground, where he had thrown it and he quickly retrieved it, holding it out in front of him by the chain like a spider hanging from a web.


"Here, Gandalf."


He had to try several times to get the old Man's attention, but as soon as he did and the Wizard saw that the Ring was safe, he let go of Legolas, seemingly forgetting instantly that the Elf was even in the room.


"What about the Seeing Stone?"


Aragorn did not understand.


"The orb! The black orb - where is that?"


"It fell in the lake." Aragorn told him.


Gandalf seemed more than a little irritated to have lost the mysterious stone but told Aragorn that it mattered not, for the danger had past. He turned back to Legolas, who stood silently behind him.


"Come on, then." He said briskly. "We will get this horrid thing back to the one meant to carry it and then, little Elf, I will deal with you."


Legolas avoided the Wizard's gaze as though it would turn him to stone and nodded, meekly. In awkward silence, Wizard, Man and Elf, left the cavern and made their way back to the surface.


-----------------------------------


*Ada – Father
*Leithonin – Release me
*Eteleht-nin – Let me go (actually translates more like: Let me out) *Hannon-lei – Thank you
*Pheredil – Half-Elf (i think... close enough anyway...)


To be continued...