Heart of a Warrior

Heart of a Warrior

Author: Big Smirk
Beta reader: Mel A
Disclaimer: Lotr characters not mine.

---Winter-Mirkwood--

Grim clouds threw down their rain as Legolas trudged miserably through the forest. Soaked to the skin, his shoulders and head drooped like the water-burdened evergreens hanging across his path. Raindrops slid down his face in place of the tears he could no longer cry. One foot in front of the other, the Elf moved forward, slowly, in no particular direction.

The final moments kept repeating in his mind. The last cry lodged in his heart like a poison arrow, draining his strength. The Elf stopped. Unable to carry his pain any further, he made the only decision that seemed to make sense to his tormented heart. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

---The Next Day---

They found Legolas crumpled in the forest as the rain continued to pour down as if in mourning for the Elf's fall. His bedraggled form was brought swiftly to the Healing Hall of Thranduil's palace. Despite a thorough search, no physical sign of injury was found. An air of sad resignation hung over them as finally recognized that it was a wound of the heart. One of the Elves gently dried the rain from Legolas’ face. As he dabbed a soft, white cloth over Legolas’ mouth, he paused and then looked up at the others. “I miss his smile,” he said quietly. The others stilled their hands for a moment and returned his look with slow nods of agreement. The Elf paused as a troubled expression crossed his face. “When was the last time we saw him smile?” Their faces contorted into the same look of pain as one of them added, “How could we have missed it? He was gone from us long before this, wasn’t he?”

They lay Legolas’ inert body in one of the small rooms adjoining the open hall. A solitary Elf kept a silent vigil, his fingers slowly stroking the long, blond hair that no longer flew in the wind.

---Two Days Later---

"Welcome, Prince of Ithilien, Elf-friend!" boomed Thranduil in greeting as Faramir dismounted from his horse.

"Greetings, Lord of Mirkwood," replied Faramir as he grasped the King's forearms. "I declare the halls are even more impressive than I had hitherto imagined. I'm afraid such beauty will not await you in Gondor should you wish to journey there."

The King laughed as he offered Faramir the opportunity to see more.

"Since you are so taken with our dwellings, I shall offer you a closer look!" the King declared before calling out for one of his aides waiting nearby. "This is Anathor, and he will show you all that you wish to see. The pergolas, the game rooms, the Feasting Hall, the Healing Hall..."

As Faramir turned back to thank the King for his gracious offer, he caught the sadness that had fallen like a shroud over the King's face. The voicing of Faramir’s concern was quickly hushed.

"It is nothing we should trouble our guest with," the King spoke decisively, ending the exchange. Anathor was by Faramir’s side in an instant, leading him away from the King’s already departing form. The cheerful tones of the King’s assistant also told Faramir that now was the time to concentrate on the upcoming tour rather than the affairs of Thranduil.

Faramir was lead through great halls of architectural wonder. Spiraling wooden staircases curved their way toward comfortable dwellings. Everything looked so alive, as if it had grown there rather than had been built. Light emanated from everywhere, seemingly without source. As he wandered around, Faramir noticed miniature gardens tucked unobtrusively in little alcoves. He realized that nearly everything was edible. “These are…?” he marveled.

“Disturbed as little as possible,” replied Anathor, smiling.

Faramir noted aloud, “We build over…you build around.”

Anathor’s smile widened.

“We could learn…” Faramir nodded thoughtfully.

As one of the final parts of the tour, Faramir was shown to the Healing Hall. A long stone-paved corridor stretched out before them. The clear windows in arc arched roof allowed sunlight to stream in like healing fingers, eager to soothe wounded warriors should they rest there. Small rooms branched off from the long passageway, and Faramir looked into them briefly as they passed. Each room had a comfortable array of bedding; the walls were decorated with round wooden carvings resembling graceful Elven hands. Each room held the essence of a warm cocoon, waiting to welcome weary bodies and souls.

"This is where we care for our injured," Faramir's guide explained. "In this time of peace we have not had much need for it."

Ahead at the far end of the corridor another Elf walked slowly, head bowed, into one of the rooms. As they drew level with the entrance, Faramir looked in. In the far corner, facing the wall, lay a deathly still Elf. He did not move, not even to draw the deep breath of one who rests comfortably. Clearly something had happened to him, yet, as the Elves had noted earlier, Faramir observed that there was no physical injury. An Elf sat beside the still one with a hand placed comfortingly on his shoulder, but his face held no hope as he looked up at the guide and visitor with grief-filled eyes.

Faramir looked at the motionless Elf for a moment; a pain of sorrow stabbed through his heart.

Faramir whispered in a soft, compassionate voice as if he were attempting to disturb the air as little as possible, "What ails that one?"

The seated Elf looked back down at the one he was caring for.

"We know not. His body is whole, but we fear he is tormented by inner anguish. An Elf may be slain in this way. Each day he fades from us a little more..."

Faramir saw the pain in the eyes of the caring Elf. He knew that pain; it was the haunting sorrow of impending loss mixed with the crushing grief of what was already gone. Loving fingers gently rested upon one who was unreachable. Haunted sorrow, yes, Faramir saw it in the eyes that watched him now, and he had heard it in the King’s voice earlier.

"May I...?" Faramir took a small step into the room. The watcher looked skeptical for a moment before shrugging his acquiescence. Faramir stepped beside the motionless Elf and lifted the patient's upper body so he could settle in behind. He wrapped his arms around the chest of the Elf and rested the Elf's head on his shoulder. Closing his eyes in concentration, he sat holding the Elf for a long time while the others watched.

Occasionally Faramir's face would transform into an expression of deep sorrow, as if the Elf's body could somehow communicate its suffering to him. Faramir spoke to the watching Elves. "He lost a dear one..." Returning his concentration back to the Elf, he continued, "He feels responsible...he does not wish to live."

The watching Elves looked at Faramir with wide eyes and open, speechless mouths. Finally, one of them blurted out, "But it was not his fault!" before asking, "How...?" The Elf regarded the man with renewed curiosity, eyes searching as if they had missed some characteristic earlier.

"There are ways of healing in Gondor, too. I studied them before my father requested I join my brother in the warrior ways," Faramir replied wistfully.

“You honor your father well, Faramir,” the caring Elf offered in quiet tones.

Faramir lowered his head slightly. “Alas, he did not hold my quality as a warrior in any esteem. Nor did he see the art of healing as suitable for a son of his.”

Faramir turned back to the Elf he held. Every now and again he would whisper something the other two Elves could not quite catch. As twilight dimmed the room, a strangled cry broke out from the tormented Elf as its body stiffened in silent protest. A violent inward gasp was followed by a much stronger howl of pure soul-wrenching misery that echoed out across the nearby courtyards. Tears welled up in the eyes of the watching Elves as it tore through their hearts like arrows through unprotected chests. Other troubled faces appeared at the entrance to the room.

Faramir used the silence after the spent howl to speak quietly to the Elf once again. After a pause, the unconscious Elf relaxed, drew in a deep breath and sighed. The others watched anxiously as an eternity seemed to pass before Legolas drew his next breath, but it was deeper and stronger and soon followed by another.

With a reassuring expression Faramir gently lowered the sleeping Elf back . Th. The Elves stood in amazement, staring at Legolas form as his graceful arms came to rest over his chest as they should in healthy sleep. Faramir was unaware of the significance of the movement as he spoke softly, "He will be with you in the morning. Whether he stays will be up to the healing ways of your people. He will not remember my visit, and it is best that he does not know. I shall return to Gondor ere he wakes."

Faramir rose to leave, but lingered for a moment, regarding the sleeping Elf one last time. "How is he called?" he asked, turning to the Elf healer.

"He is called 'Legolas.' It means 'Green Leaf' in the common tongue."

"Fare well, Legolas," Faramir said with a parting touch to the sleeping Elf's shoulder.

---The Following Spring---

Thranduil greeted Faramir as he rode into Mirkwood.

"How fare the people of Gondor? It is good to have you among us again," the King welcomed him.

"They fare well. You honor me with your kind invitation, Lord," Faramir replied.

After a brief conversation about small matters, Faramir asked the question that had plagued him since he had last departed from the land of the Elves. His mind had often flashed back to the image of the suffering one he had tended. It was not his wish to bring sorrow should the Elf have died; yet he yearned to know the fate of the beautiful soul he had held.

"How fares the troubled one, Legolas?"

Faramir watched Thranduil's face intently, an apology poised on his lips should it be necessary. Relief swept over him as he saw a bright smile spread over the King's face.

"He fares well. We thank you for using your power of healing in our time of need. We had not realized the burden he carried, for he seldom complains."

"Where might I find him?" Faramir asked.

"Follow the path thither," the King said with a sweep of his hand toward the two tall trees Legolas was usually seen to disappear between for his afternoon shooting practice.

Faramir took his leave of the King and walked over to the two trees. At first he thought he had misunderstood the directions, as he saw no path before him. Looking closer he realized the source of his confusion; he had expected to see footprints. Instead, a narrow trail of grass was barely visible through the surrounding greenery, as if the larger plants had all agreed to allow only the grass to grow there.

Following the trail he came upon a long slender clearing. Facing away from him at the near end stood a lone Elf, bow raised, arrow nocked; his body was perfectly stilled within the concentration of his aim. The only items of clothing he wore that afternoon were deep green leggings covered his strong legs and leather bracers protected his forearms. His back was long and lean. Strong shoulders supported the long arms that held the bow and arrow, like the frozen image of one performing a beautiful and powerful dance. A cascade of golden hair, partially tied back in a neat plait, fell down the center of his back just passed his shoulder blades. The hair above his ears was finely braided. Faramir smiled.

"Welcome, Prince of Ithilien," Legolas said without turning around as he released his arrow. Faramir remembered the sound of his own footfalls along the trail. He realized only a man would make such a racket. After a brief moment of silence, a distant thwack echoed back up the clearing; the arrow lodged a mere fraction higher than the preceding arrow. That final arrow completed the image of a bird. Lowering his bow, Legolas turned to face the visitor.

Faramir was reassured by the peaceful aura of calm surrounding the Elf's gracefully poised body. He had indeed been well cared for. Faramir was especially pleased to see the light had returned to the bright blue eyes that regarded him kindly.

Legolas watched the man approach. Faramir's tall athletic frame moved smoothly across the distance between them.had had honey blonde, shoulder-length hair and a soft caramel beard upon his face. A green cloak, fastened atop a black chest guard adorned with the image of a silver tree, billowed behind him. Deep blue eyes glinted with warmth that matched his generous smile as he drew up to the Elf.

"You have a masterful shot, Legolas," Faramir praised the Elf. "I would welcome some assistance with my own aim if you would offer it," he laughed in a rich, deep voice.

"Then I would offer it," Legolas said, returning a kind smile of his own.

Faramir stood holding his bow firmly as he aimed at the distant target. Legolas moved in silently behind him, bringing his arms around the man's to guide him. Faramir felt the Elven touch as his posture was adjusted slightly. Suddenly everything seemed to fit. His grip relaxed slightly, the bow stilled perfectly, and he felt more centered in his stance. He felt the Elf's breath across his ear as Legolas whispered, "Release."

With a slight movement of fingers, Faramir released the arrow. His bow sang as the arrow shot down the clearing to stick unwaveringly in the target. The bird gained an eye.

"Now do it again," Legolas instructed as he backed away to watch.

Faramir shot several more arrows, and by the end of the afternoon, the bird had gained detail. The two of them walked down the clearing to retrieve their arrows before returning to the palace for the evening meal.

The sun set, taking the color of the forest with it. On the trunk of a large tree, the faint outline of a flying bird, crafted by man and Elf, faded into the night.

---That Night---

Faramir was treated to a grand feast in Thranduil's Halls. He sat in the place of honor and ate his fill of venison, skillfully prepared vegetables, and a bountiful variety of thirst-quenching ales. Many toasts were made in honor of peace and good fortune. Legolas was unaware that the feast was also in celebration of the man of Gondor's role in his recovery.

---The Next Day---

Faramir felt himself increasingly enjoying Legolas’ company. After another session of practice, man and Elf sat together on a fallen log. On the trunk of a tree at the other end of the clearing a cluster of arrows formed the shape of a horse's head. Legolas had not used all of his arrows. He sat, lost in thought, twirling one with his fingers.

"'Tis a paradox, is it not?" Faramir mused, pointing to the arrow Legolas held. The Elf stilled his fingers as he looked at the man.

Faramir continued, "Such a thing of beauty, and yet it brings swift death to creatures who would harm us but also to those who would not."

"We hunt only what we need, and we waste nothing," Legolas explained solemnly.

"Nothing? Oh, and what use have the fair Elves for deer behinds?" chuckled Faramir.

Legolas' maintained his expression of sincerity as he replied, "Why, we consider those a great delicacy to be served to those of high rank and ...to our honored guests."

The smile and color drained rapidly from Faramir's face as he recalled the previous night's feast of venison. Peals of Elven laughter rang through the forest as Legolas was unable to hold his facade of seriousness any longer. Tears of mirth squeezed out of the corners of his eyes.

Realizing the Elf's jest, Faramir joined him in a hearty chuckle, and, for good measure, pushed Legolas backward off the log. The Elf disappeared into the foliage, two legs still draped over the log. The leaves shook with Elven giggles.

"Out of there!" Faramir laughed, reaching down to pull Legolas out. As the Elf was righted back on the log the laughter died on his lips.

"What is it?" Faramir asked, a look of concern crossing his face as he released his grip on the Elf.

"I...nothing," Legolas replied slowly. The moment was gone as the Elf stood up and playfully slapped Faramir, beckoning the man to follow.

The two of them wandered off to a nearby stream. They left the horse head of arrows undisturbed.

Faramir removed the clothing from his upper body and lay himself out atop a large, flat rock to bask in the sun. Legolas wandered off along the river's edge. Picking his way carefully along the bank clear of the water line, he stopped every now and then to collect one of the darker rocks. Lazily regarding the rock-gathering Elf from his perch, Faramir lifted his head off his folded arms. "What is it you seek?" he asked. Legolas smiled wordlessly at him before continuing his foraging. Giving up for the moment, Faramir turned his head sideways and rested back on his arms, dozing in the sun.

Faramir awoke to the quiet presence of the Elf sitting beside him; a sizable collection of rocks had been spread out beside him. Raising his head once again he asked, "And just what to you plan to do with those?" Legolas responded by placing his hand on Faramir's head and pushing it gently back down. Going along with the Elf's game, Faramir lay still, eyes closed, waiting.

Legolas made a fist and pressed the upper parts of his index and middle fingers on Faramir's back, letting the man feel the slight heat and weight of his hand. "Ah, that is a soothing touch you bestow upon me," Faramir cooed contentedly.

The Elf picked up one of the sun-warmed rocks and effortlessly replaced his fist with the stone. The sun-warmed stone maintained the same weight and heat. Placing his fist upon another place on the warrior's back, Legolas repeated the ritual. When he placed his fist down for a third time, Faramir's puzzled voice spoke again, "By what magic do you touch me now? Have you three hands?"

Faramir had not recognized the significance of the slight shift in pressure as fist was replaced by rock until two Elven hands appeared in front of him, the right hand holding one of the rocks gathered earlier. Understanding the Elf's actions, Faramir settled back to enjoy the rest of it. The rocks felt like many gentle hands resting upon him; it was a comforting feeling. He wondered at the soothing power of the rocks.

"Even rocks have an energy," Legolas explained simply.

"I should like to take those rocks back to Gondor," Faramir laughed.

"Nay, they belong in the stream," Legolas grinned as he picked them one by one off Faramir's back and tossed them into the water.

"Then so do I," Faramir declared as he sprang up, removed the last of his clothing, patted Legolas on the shoulder and jumped in after his beloved rocks. Sitting neck deep in the stream, Faramir regarded the Elf, who was standing on the bank looking at the man in confusion.

"Do such antics surprise you, Elf?" laughed Faramir, misreading Legolas' expression. Puzzled, Legolas approached Faramir. He opened his mouth to speak, but a wall of water hit the Elf in the face, followed by Faramir's laugh. Coughing, Legolas retreated quickly. Removing his own clothing he ran back to the stream, splashing his way in, timing his own wall of water with one of Faramir's inward breaths. In a moment they both sat laughing and spluttering. "I dare say we shall both die of laughter ere the day is out," coughed Faramir.

"Then let us have a treaty between us...at least until tomorrow," chuckled Legolas.

"Agreed." Faramir rested his hand on the Elf's shoulder.

Quietly, Faramir spoke to the Elf beside him. "You have shown me much of your shooting skills and soothing ways. Let me show you a delight from Gondor."

"I should like that," Legolas said.

Turning the Elf away from him, Faramir began to rub the long back under the water while he sang. Legolas' head dropped forward as he relaxed with the peaceful sensation filling his body. The harmony between the song and touch made it difficult to know which one was the illustration of the other. Legolas remembered...

Suddenly the Elf jerked. Spinning around to face the man, he looked at Faramir anew as he cried out, "It was you who came to me!"

Dropping his gaze, Faramir replied softly, "Yes, it was I."

"Why did you not speak of it?" Legolas asked, astonished.

"I did not wish you to be drawn to me in a time of weakness. It is always better that a heart comes out of love, not when it aches for a solution."

Legolas rose and walked out of the stream, his eyes seemed to search the ground before him and yet see nothing. Faramir followed, he could sense Legolas' mind was being assailed by disconnected images, sensations, words and thoughts that suddenly slotted into the undeniable reality of his heart. The Elf turned around.

They stood, motionless, facing each other. Faramir felt the energy between them like a force pulling him toward the Elf. His eyes darted back and forth between Legolas’, desperately seeking the same reality mirrored in the Elf's eyes, and yet he knew even before he looked that it would be there; it had been there from the start. Intense longing filled his chest leaving no room for his heart to beat. Faramir saw the agony of desire flashed in Legolas’ eyes. The man felt his own fear that perhaps he only saw what he wished to see, that maybe he had misread.

"Do I ask for too much?" Faramir asked quietly, sitting down on a rock behind him. Silently, Legolas shook his head as he took a tentative step forward...then another...closer. Graceful Elven hands reached out slowly and were greeted by those of the Prince of Ithilien as he pulled the Elf gently toward him.

Sitting on the man's lap, Legolas reached out with his mouth to find the top lip of the one he finally understood he loved. With a gentle touch he moved along the ridge of Faramir's top lip. The man felt the gentle Elven tugs - nip...nip...nip. It took considerable control not to crush his mouth to the Elf's as he so heatedly desired. Faramir felt and heard the quiet roar of the aroused Elf's breath as he, too, wrestled for control over his own inner desires. Finally, Legolas slipped his tongue between Faramir's lips. Smooth Elven velvet explored inside before withdrawing and sealing the gesture with a slow kiss.

Faramir rubbed his cheek softly along the column of Legolas' throat.

"You tickle me," the Elf laughed.

"And so I shall tickle you elsewhere before I am finished with you," Faramir teased. Drawing back, he looked at the Elf's beautiful head, his eyes following the trails of golden hair. "Ah, your left ear sticks out a little further than your right. It wants my attention. Therefore I shall start nibbling on that one first," he said as he moved forward to capture the finely peaked sculpture of Elven flesh between his lips.

Legolas leaned into Faramir, one long arm reaching around his back; the other folded between them with the graceful hand stroking the warrior's chest. Closing his eyes, he turned his head sideways to enjoy a good nibbling.

As Faramir nibbled the ear, he reached down to hold the firm rounds of the muscled cheeks sitting on his lap. Slowly he worked his fingers across, kneading, moving into a more intimate probing of the sensitive inner parts, splitting Legolas' attention between the two arousing sensations.

"Ah! You tease me! It is too much to enjoy both at once!" the Elf protested helplessly.

"Then choose one," Faramir whispered into his ear.

Legolas raised his head, as he arched his back, pressing his chest to the other's. He spread his legs wider, leaving no doubt as to his choice. Faramir reached over to one of the succulent plants growing nearby and broke off a large, fat leaf. "Ah, this we also have in Gondor." He let the slippery juice trickle down the small of the Elf's back until it ran into the cleft where Faramir massaged tenderly. Faramir sniggered deviously as he withdrew one hand back around the Elf's hip and into the space between them. Rubbing the juice up and down the Elf's erection he asked with mock seriousness, "But what shall I do with this?"

"Ah! You tease me again! Between these two I can not choose," Legolas protested.

"Then do not," Faramir breathed as he slid his wet fingers down between the Elf's buttocks, stroking back and forth, noting the twitches of pleasure as Legolas opened himself. Slipping a questing finger inside, Faramir probed ...and was soon rewarded.

"Ah!" Legolas cried out, forcing his body to be still so the man would not lose that most pleasurable spot.

"I have my target," declared Faramir, his voice dripping with intention. Removing his fingers he bade Legolas to stand a little so he could continue pleasuring him. With deliberate strokes, Faramir massaged his way into the Elf, comforting and arousing him, bringing him close to the edge before slowing again. Legolas' body quivered with anticipation as he sat, breathing hard, waiting helplessly for Faramir to finish him. Faramir looked into the Elf's eyes as he spoke. "Once I filled you with my words. Now I shall fill you with my love."

Hugging the Elf tightly to him, Faramir resumed the smooth action of his hips. With each inward push he spoke to his beloved. The timeless sexual chants of Gondor floated from his lips and wrapped themselves tenderly around the Elf's beating heart, holding him, caressing him, filling him to the deepest reaches of his soul. Faramir added one of his own heartfelt sentiments to the Elf. "So long as there are words, I will weave them into patterns of love for you."

Legolas' body shuddered with every inward thrust of word and penis as Faramir rocked him gently to fulfillment. With a final push, Faramir buried himself deeper and filled Legolas with the love he had longed to express since he first held the troubled soul in his arms. The Elf's body shook with a violent shudder of exquisite pleasure as he ejaculated powerfully. With a sigh of deep satisfaction, Legolas continued to sit on the man's lap for a moment as they recovered. No words were needed between them.

Legolas climbed off Faramir with a parting kiss as he caught his breath. Walking over to another of the succulent plants, Legolas broke off a fat leaf. Biting the tip off, he spat it out before chewing the remainder of the juicy column. "Such leaves you know in Gondor, but of this perhaps you know not," Legolas said with a mischief-filled voice, between slow deliberate chews. His intense blue eyes held Faramir captive as he reached for a small, red leafed plant, pulling the leaves slowly until they snapped off the stems. The corners of the Elf's mouth turned upward; his eyes smoldered with renewing desire. Slowly, provocatively, he drew back the outer waxy covering off the tiny leaves. Parting his lips sensuously he sucked the sticky red leaves off his long fingers, all the while holding Faramir's eyes with his own.

Chewing slowly, Legolas walked silently over to Faramir and embraced him with a breath-stealing kiss. Faramir felt the Elf offer the leaf mixture urgently with his tongue. Faramir opened his mouth wider, taking it from the Elf. He chewed the slippery, sweet ball. Legolas ran one elegant finger down Faramir's throat, indicating that the man should swallow the offering.

"Such a sweet delight we do not have in Gondor, my fair one," Faramir said. "Tell me, what is the nature of such a thing?"

Legolas did not reply; he merely stood, grinning expectantly.

"What game do you...?" Faramir began. Understanding struck him like a bolt as an intense heat of arousal spread between his thighs, re-igniting his penis with urgent desire. Silently, Legolas guided Faramir to his hands and knees on the forest floor. Slick Elven fingers prepared Faramir for the Elf's intent, graceful strokes asking for and receiving permission.

Legolas slid the thick root of his own penis up against the battle-sculpted firmness of Faramir before lly lly sliding into him with long sensuous glides, one hand on the man's upturned buttocks and the other resting on his back. With every push of his graceful hips, Legolas returned the love that had pulled him from the abyss of despair, the quiet love that surrounded him in the man's presence.

Faramir groaned with delight from the Elf's attentions. They made love slowly as time stilled between them. Every gesture was given its moment, infinite care given, and infinite joy received. They rubbed together in a loving harmony of offering and accepting. Their voices rose up into the sky as they breathed together in melodic moans of pleasure. They ejaculated again in unison before lying side by side to rest.

Legolas looked into Faramir’s eyes for a lingering moment and he opened his mouth to speak, but Faramir pushed a finger to the delicate Elven lips, silencing him before he spoke. “I am honored that you came back when all else seemed lost to you.”

Moments passed in silent remembrance of that time, the joining of one soul reaching to catch the fall of another.

Faramir held Legolas' gaze a while longer before he whispered wickedly, "I have only nibbled but one of your ears. I must start again with the other!"

TBC