Rack and Ruin

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Rack and Ruin

Aragorn stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow, and glared up at the rapidly gathering storm clouds that hung low over the forest, making the air moist and dense and difficult to breathe. As trying as the certainty of impending rain was to his temper, it was a mere trifle compared to his annoyance at not being able to find the large fallen tree that according to Elrohir’s map should have been in the glade where he now stood. To make matters worse, Legolas was making no attempt to help find the ruins they were seeking; he was far too busy being amused by the notion that they were apparently… lost.

Elladan and Elrohir had returned to Imladris several weeks before with a map showing the location of some ancient ruins they had discovered. Aragorn had listened with great interest to the brief, yet intriguing description of a forgotten place that had definitely been built by Men some time in the past.

“It is a fascinating place to visit, is it not Elrohir?” asked Elladan as he and his twin exchanged a glance, the meaning of which Aragorn did not even bother to try and guess.

“Indeed it is, and we had a most enlightening and pleasurable timeng tng the ruins. You simply must take Legolas with you when you go, Aragorn. I am sure he will be as delighted by what you will find there as we were,” replied Elrohir enigmatically, the mystery surrounding his words ensuring that his foster brother would be determined to see the place for himself. Legolas was equally intrigued when he heard of the ruins and readily agreed to accompany Aragorn on his adventure as soon as he had discharged his duty to Elrond, and delivered the message he had brought to Imladris from Thranduil.

Once their travel preparations were complete, Legolas and Aragorn were swiftly on their way, neither noticing that Elladan and Elrohir stood at the gateway and watched them leave.

“Do you suppose they will know what to do with it when they find it? Legolas is really still quite innocent,” said Elladan as he lovingly placed an arm about his brother’s waist.

“Ai, but Aragorn will know, just as you did, and that storm we both feel coming will definitely help matters,” replied Elrohir, kissing his brother sweetly on the lips.

*****

“I hope you find our way soon, Aragorn,” Legolas said as he gazed idly up at the gathering gloom. “This is likely to be a fierce storm, and although I do not mind the rain, I am not overly fond of being drenched.” They had left Imladris barely half a day ago, and ever since then Legolas had felt rain approaching.

“Then perhaps you should climb a tree and use your superior eyesight to see if you can locate our destination, instead of just standing there with a smirk on your face,” suggested Aragorn with sugar sweet sarcasm.

“As you wish, but I can not help but wonder whether those two were merely playing a prank, and in fact there are no ruins for us to find,” mused Legolas as he made his way nimbly up into the branches of the tallest tree. “It would be just like them to use your curiosity and thirst for knowledge against you in such a manner.”

The Ranger could easily believe his foster brothers would do as his friend suggested, but until Legolas had said the words, the thought had not even crossed his mind. He silently cursed himself for a fool, and then glanced sheepishly up at his friend who offered another morsel of elvish wisdom laced with mischief.

“They also no doubt sensed the coming storm, and knew full well that you would continue to search regardless of the rain. It is one way to make you bathe, I suppose,” he teased, laughing merrily at the stunned look on Aragorn’s face.

“I am not a child that I need to be told when to bathe!” he declared angrily, looking very much exactly like one to the amused Elf. “I hope you are simply an innocent victim, and not a conspirator, should this venture turn out to be a jest,” he warned. It would also be just like Legolas to lead him astray, relying on his fair features and bright elven eyes to hide his deceit and make Aragorn believe that Elrond’s sons were simply being their usual mischievous selves.

“Nay I am not, and it appears I am making a false accusation this time. I can see the remnants of a crumpled wall, and an almost overgrown chimney some distance ahead,” confirmed Legolas as he began to climb back down, continuing in his teasing manner. “Besides, I do bathe regularly, as you well know,” he said grinning wickedly as Aragorn blushed slightly. He easily recalled several times he had inadvertently found Legolas standing naked as he bathed in his favourite pool at Imladris.

“I only stumbled upon you when, by chance, we both chose to bathe at the same time,” he reminded the Elf.

“Ai, then I suppose it is fortunate that you seldom choose to, otherwise we would have had to share the pool more often,” said Legolas feigning disgust but laughing with his eyes. He dropped silently from the lowest branch to stand next to his friend, who was avoiding the mirthful gaze by staring at the now extremely crumpled piece of parchment. Legolas peered over Aragorn’s shoulder the better to take his first close look at the map that he had not bothered with until now since he had confidently decided to rely on Aragorn’s skills to find the way.

“Ai, I am surprised at you, mellon nin. I thought you knew how to read an elvish map,” he said shaking his head in admonishment.

“Of course I can read it, Elladan and Elrohir taught me how when I was still only a child,” the offended Ranger answered, frowning as he peered back at the markings trying to see what Legolas believed he had obviously missed.

“As I measure the years, you still are a child, and you have forgotten your lessons. These symbols here and here are used by Wood Elves to represent the trail through the trees, not on the ground,” Legolas pointed out, indicating the single leaves that Aragorn had assumed to merely be Elrohir’s idea of decoration, for it had been his elegant hand that had drawn the map.

“They are not Wood Elves, and I do not recall them ever mentioning tracking through the trees,” claimed Aragorn sounding slightly annoyed at his foster brothers.

“An oversight on their part, I am sure,” conceded Legolas, without much conviction, again suspecting they were the objects of the twin’s amusement. Aragorn must have thought likewise for he snorted his contempt at his friend’s words.

“We should hurry on our way, for the rain is ready to fall,” he said as they both turned their eyes skyward in a reflex action when a flash of lightning lit the now darkened sky. The blue white light was followed closely by a boom of thunder that reverberated through the thickening air, and a sudden strong gust of wind tore the map from Aragorn’s hands, carrying it well beyond his reach as a hard, cold rain began to fall.

“Since YOU are a Wood Elf, and have now seen both the map and the ruins, lead the way,” he shouted so as to be heard over the next peal of thunder. Legolas nodded his agreement and set off at a fast run towards the shelter from the heavy downpour.

The ruins were in fact quite extensive, and appeared to have once been a small fortress of some sort, with an outer wall that was overgrown with a flowering vine, making the gateway difficult to see until they were quite close. As they passed through the gates that had seen neither Men nor Elves for centuries, Legolas could discern a broken doorway in the shadows ahead that lead into a large room. On entering the chamber, they could see that it was possibly the remnant of a study or library, judging by the rotted wooden shelves that lay strewn on the floor, having long since fallen from the crumbling walls.

The chimney Legolas had seen from the tree was attached to a small fireplace in the corner, and by mutual agreement, they collected the debris that had been the bookshelves, and made a warming fire to dry their clothes and their selves, for both Elf and Man were soaked to the skin. Despite the vines that covered it on the outside, the chimney stack was not blocked, as Aragorn had feared it might be, and the only smoke that drifted lazily on the air was that from his pipe.

Moving as far from the unpleasant odour of pipeweed as possible while still keeping close to the hearth, Legolas quickly removed all but his leggings and allowed the rosy glow of the flames to warm his pale skin. Even though elvish garments quickly shed excess water, Legolas had not been able to prevent the ice cold droplets from running down his hair and under the collar of his tunic, making his undershirt uncomfortably wet.

“I thought Elves did not feel the cold,” commented Aragorn as he did likewise, shivering until the warmth began to penetrate the chill in his blood. Men indeed felt the cold, particularly when wet.

“I am not cold, I simply do not like wearing wet clothes,” explained Legolas as he picked up the rusted poker that had somehow remained at the hearth through the centuries. Resting his hand on the mantle, he leaned over to stoke the fire and almost lost his balance as the whole fireplace slowly moved aside to reveal a small opening to a secret chamber.

“Ah, so the mystery of the ruins is solved! Trust Elladan and Elrohir to find a secret chamber in the most unlikely place,” said Aragorn as he made a torch from one of the narrower shelves and entered the secret door. “Come, Legolas, let us see what else there is in here,” he called over his shoulder. Ignoring his state of undress, and the icy cold air he could feel coming from the room, Legolas eagerly joined Aragorn in exploring their discovery.

In one corner of the room was a large bed, with a covering that had seen better days and was now home to a variety of small insects, and several rats that ran hurriedly from the intruders.

“This fabric appears to be of elvish weave,” said Legolas as he ran his hand across the bedcover.

“As are some of these, and I think we can use them to keep warm until our clothes dry,” observed Aragorn who had opened the armoire that contained the tattered remnants of several robes, both human and elvish in design. He selected two of the least damaged garments and handed one to Legolas, donning the other as they crossed the room, to where they had noticed a strange wooden contraption still attached to the wall, the like of which Legolas had never seen before.

“I wonder what this is?” he asked, with a confused frown as he gingerly examined one of the manacles that was attached to each of the corners of the frame. There was some kind of wheel and pulley arrangement also attached to the frame with some very new looking elvish rope.

“I believe I can guess,” said Aragorn as he also examined the chains and manacles that were made of steel, but lined with a fabric that would have protected delicate skin from too many cuts and bruises.

“Well, what is it?” asked Legolas again.

“It is a rack, normally an instrument of torture, or so the ancient scrolls in Elrond’s library say, but I think this one was built to provide torture of a more pleasant sort, and apparently once used by a Man and an Elf if the clothes are any thing to judge by,” he said raising his eyebrows in surprise. He cast his eyes about the room finally spotting the keys that would open the shackles. He inserted one in the keyhole and found it turned the lock with unexpected ease considering its age and lack of use, unless of course the ones who had recently left the rope had also seen to the oiling of the locks.

None other than Elladan and Elrohir! Deduced Aragorn with a wry grin.

Obviously they had discovered the room, and then apparently taken advantage of the instrument of pleasure they had found within. He was certain they were well aware of the nature of the wooden frame and blushed slightly as he wondered whether it was Elladan or Elrohir’s wrists and ankles that had been recently locked in the shackles. More than likely they had taken turns he decided, knowing just how fond they were of each other.

His thoughts then turned to the previous occupants and he wondered what kind of lover an Elf would make what kind of a lover one as beautiful within and without as Legolas was, would make. Aragorn found he suddenly longed to find out for himself, and as is mind filled with erotic images of Legolas and himself in the throes of passion, he felt his cheeks burning and his heart pounding in time to the rush of blood to his groin.

“How can torture be a pleasant experience?” asked the Elf with genuine naiveté. Aragorn’s lurid thoughts were interrupted and he was exceedingly relieved that the robe he now wore hid the result of his fantasy from Legolas. However, the Elf noted the colour in his friend’s cheeks, and could feel his racing heart beat and decided not to pursue the matter for the present. He needed to make certain that the Ranger was not catching a chill.

“Are you ill, Aragorn?” he asked, placing his hand gently on Aragorn’s forehead to check for fever. It was not the way of Elves to suffer sickness, but he had been on enough scouting trips with this particular Man to know that a warm forehead could signal an oncoming illness.

“Nay,” he replied, shaking his head. “Shall we go back out by the fire, it is getting quite cold in here,” he suggested using the dropping temperature as an excuse to hide the shiver the tingling sensation of Legolas’s fingers on his face had caused. His sharply indrawn breath only served to highlight that his unbidden feelings towards the Elf were not entirely just friendship.

“Maybe we should have something to eat, to help keep us warm,” suggested Aragorn in an attempt to allow time to settle his roiling emotions. “I believe I have some lembas in my pack.”

“I have a few leaves for brewing tea,” added Legolas as he emptied his water skin into the small kettle Aragorn handed him. Soon the tea was ready, and the two friends sat in comfortable silence, just listening to the thunderous raging of the storm and the steadily increasing pounding of rain on the flagstones as they ate their meal.

“How is that … wooden …object… used, Aragorn?” asked Legolas suddenly breaking the silence as his curiosity finally demanded to be satisfied. “You said for pleasure, so I assume you are speaking of pleasures of the flesh?”

“That is so, but surely your imagination can answer the question for you?” Aragorn asked in reply not willing to speak on this subject after finally calming the fires of desire that burned within him.

“I am well aware of the method, but since I am not betrothed or married, I do not know the more intricate details of love making. Is it a very enjoyable experience?” asked the Elf candidly.

“I have found it to be so,” replied Aragorn honestly. Apparently Legolas was willing to discuss this subject more fully, and the Ranger had to admit he was curious to learn more about the Elf’s sexual habits. “Are you telling me you have never even sought release from sexual desire either at your own hand or perhaps with one of your friends?” he asked incredulously.

“I have only just reached my majority and I have felt desire, but have not yet acted on it,” admitted Legolas with a frankness that spoke to Aragorn’s heart as well as inflamed his attraction to his friend.

“I find that hard to believe. I am certain Elladan and Elrohir took advantage of their ‘find’ here and they are not much older than you, at least as far as I can tell,” argued Aragorn, eliciting a slightly shocked expression from his friend.

“You mean they pleasured one another… on that….rack?” asked Legolas, struggling with the whole concept. Aragorn merely nodded as he considered that the Elf may indeed be as innocent as he claimed. The thought only served to heighten his arousal, as did Legolas’s next question.

“Would you use that rack in there to enhance your pleasure?” He asked seemingly oblivious to the Ranger’s increasing discomfort caused by leggings that again seemed to be growing tighter by the moment.

“Possibly,” he replied without oratorating further, suddenly thinking that it was not really the time or place to continue such a conversation.

“How would you do it, EXACTLY?”

Was that a hint of a challenge Aragorn heard in the single word?

He was certain it was, and did his best to hide a groan as several enticing images, involving a certain golden haired Elf, immediately flashed through his mind sending extremely pleasant sensations directly to his groin. He caught the barest hint of a smile of triumph on Legolas’s lips, yet his eyes were totally unreadable and Aragorn wondered if the Elf was deliberately teasing him. He decided to do some teasing of his own.

“Why not let me show you?” he whispered into Legolas’s ear with an element of seductiveness and challenge in his voice.

There was nothing innocent about the lust in his voice or the desire in his eyes as the Elf replied wickedly,

“I thought you would never ask!”

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