Collide

Title: Collide
Author: Stargazer
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don’t sue
Summery: Two souls come together at last…


The battle raged around them, a tempest yet weathered by sword or arrow. Images passed in a blur of black and red; a nightmare that the hope of men found he could do little but yield to, lest this wave of fury catch him and wrap him in vertigo’s deadly fingers. Then he found his breath; for but a moment he seemed to rise above the singular thought of battle that swept about them, and he found his control once more in the form of his elven companion. Legolas was truly a sight to behold, and surely no other’s beauty could rival the deadly grace portrayed in his friend. Movements as graceful as liquid wove together to create a dance more deadly, more beautiful and more enchanting than even the enticing voice of the ring of power itself, and for a moment, but a flutter of a distant heartbeat, Aragorn was caught. Legolas was his lifeline, and the image of him through the break in the tide of battle settled his heart and put him at ease, for truly, as long as his companion stood and drew breath into his body, no ill could befall them. And he fought. The fury of a madman turning his sword, the Flame of the West, into death’s merciless hand, for all who came into her power felt the sting of her.
Despair’s fell breath breathed down the necks of all who stood within the shadow of her most favored protégé’s sinister abode, as all the evil within the corrupted land oozed slowly from the festering wound that was Mordor. Some were able to turn away from such emotions, let the adrenaline push them forward to an end unseen, but some, some had not the strength to fight her off, more deadly an opponent was she than even the most foul of shadow’s creatures. For those upon Death’s battle field, time was everything. For those fighting for their very lives time moved as thick molasses, barely moving, letting each heartbeat fear for the last. For those that lay dying within the red stained hands of the battle field, time moved far too quickly, the end ever too close; the darkness approaching on the wings of the swiftest of Eagles. But for one, time was different, irrelevant, a concept both familiar and foreign. Legolas moved with the rhythm of his heart, letting those senses he had spent centuries honing drive him, carry him through this battle which was neither the proponent of life nor death. He had no sense of time, for each second its own eternity was but a single breath to one with the blood of immortality flowing through his veins. Each moment that drew him closer to pain, to death, was left unfelt, for in his immortal heart, he had no sense of such things within himself. So he fought. He fought for Aragorn, for his people, for Middle Earth, he fought because it was his duty, because it was his pleasure… because it was his death. A moment, a mere second neither too lengthy nor to hasty and there was everything. There was nothing. His own cry, far too loud to his own ears, biased as they were, was barely audible above the deafening roar of evil defeated.


There was a moment of stunned silence as reality reached their hearts, at first a pale beam of light akin to the moonlight which creeps between the seams of a window in the dark of the night, than a veritable flood of bright hope. The Ring had been destroyed, Frodo had succeeded! And yet, just as suddenly as that which lit their hearts appeared, it was vanquished by the great trembling of earth and sky, a cataclysm of fire and ash. Frodo! But no, that was not the end of Hope’s agony. Grey eyes born of a mettle long forgotten in Middle Earth fell upon the only light amidst the cacophony of sound and disaster all around them. What Aragorn had thought to be impossible only moments ago, had come to pass! Legolas had fallen. He moved with the deliberateness that bespoke his heritage towards his companion, heart beating frantically to an, as of yet, unknown rhythm. It was impossible, the unshakable archer who was his anchor, who was everything, could not have fallen. He knelt on shaky knees beside his friend, blood stained fingers who had never known hesitancy shook as they moved forward to brush a stray strand of blond hair from eyes closed in repose. A tear, whole and perfect slithered from between tightly clenched eyes as Aragorn brought his hands to the place where a thick, blunt, orcish blade had pierced elven flesh clear through the form of his motionless friend.


“I love you,” Estel whispered, surprising even himself. He had never thought such words, never even contemplated them, but as he said them in that singular moment, he knew them to be true. “Ai, I love you my fair friend, my light, my anchor, my everything.” It was in that moment that the elf let out a strangled gasp that, for a second’s duration, the man thought was a conjuration of his own mind. But no. His healer’s fingers quickly moved to the elf’s throat to search for a pulse which he had not felt a moment ago upon his initial survey. He nearly whooped in joy when he found a feint, yet for the moment, steady pulse. “I will not let you die,” he swore, “not now that I know the truth of my heart.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Legolas woke with a gasp that quickly turned into a moan of agony. Everything seemed strange to him in that moment, somehow not right. The world was dark, but it was not the darkness of even the deepest midnight, but an inky darkness as thick as tar around him. He faltered on hands and knees, trying to fight off the despair and fear that threatened to conquer him, trying, but in vain, to find some light within his accursed abode. The pain that had assaulted him upon waking up was now a distant memory to his body which felt nothing as he stumbled to a destination unseen. Hours weighed upon his mind and as he trudged deeper and deeper into the murkiness, he felt parts of him slip away like sand between the fingers. Memories rose and faded from sight, forever lost. He forgot his name, the very essence of who he was- he knew only that he must keep moving even as the layers of his mind and spirit were stripped bare as the most arid desert...and then, out of the darkness there was a light, feint at first, barely a flicker so small it might have been a dream. He strained his eyes, hoping to make out something, to grasp the pale flickering of hope that grew brighter and brighter as he strove to reach it. But oh, it was so far away…so very far away, and just at it had grown brighter but a moment ago, it began to dim again as his strength slowly failed him. A tear, singular and perfect slid down his pale cheek as he cried for something that was only a vague image, a vague hope, within his mind. “I love you.” The words echoed loudly around his head, from nowhere and everywhere all at the same time. Legolas looked up then, the familiar voice drawing an image of a man, handsome and noble, and then a name. Aragorn! He drew to his knees then with a strength he thought himself incapable of. He would not fail; he had to make it to the light, to the man whispering words of love in his ear- so close, and closer still. And then he was surrounded by light, “Aragorn.” His voice was thin, and sounded strange to his ears, but he could not bring himself to contemplate it as he fell into a peaceful reverie.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Long, pale eyelashes fluttered against the light that filtered through the sheer drapes curtaining the several long, open windows within the room. When at last brilliantly blue eyes opened, Legolas looked about the room he was in, in slight confusion. The last he remembered was fighting at the very gate of Mordor, and the comfortable, airy room did not fit within any place he could think of except…He sat up, though he wished he hadn’t as a sharp pain lanced through his body so that he winced and lay down again. Once the pain had passed, he looked about in wonder as his suspicions were confirmed. He was in Imladris.


“You’re awake,” came a chocked whisper from the doorway, and Legolas looked up to see Aragorn as he struggled between running forward, and holding back, doubtful of his welcome.


The elf studied the man at the doorway to his room, a vague memory of darkness and pain whispering through his mind before it hit him. “You love me,” he whispered, his own voice as chocked as the man’s—yes, he remembered now the words that had been whispered into his ear as he faltered between life and death. His words were all that the man needed, and he strode quickly forward, not bothering to hide the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes, and Legolas welcomed him, embraced him as if to let him go would mean that he would lose the man forever.


“I thought I’d lost you.” Careful of his injury, Legolas reached for the man and pulled him into the spacious bed, before insinuating himself in the man’s warm, strong arms.


“I’m here now,” was his soft, melodious reply before he drifted of again, comforted by the man who rested beside him, the man who loved him.


Epilogue:


“I love you”, Legolas said softly into the man’s ear, “My love, my heart…My king.” Aragorn could do little but smile at his mate who had his back pressed firmly against Aragorn’s chest as they looked out over the city together.


“I never realized how beautiful Gondor could be” Aragorn sighed, his voice caught on the wind to whisper around his head in laughing cadence. The city truly was beautiful this night, resplendent with it’s thousands of glittering lights that reflected off of the white stone so that city seemed almost to glow within the night. Vague sounds of song, reached their ears high within the palace, and for a moment it was so easy to forget that the radiant city below them was a broken one.


“Yes, and under the guidance of your kind heart, this city will rebuild itself and once again become the shining star that it was meant to be”. The elf’s of unconscious echo of his thoughts brought a smile to Aragorn’s face as he once again thought how perfect they were together. In more ways than one… A mischievous smile lit his face as he leaned forward to place a seductive kiss to the pale throat bared before him. The moan he was rewarded with was incentive enough for him to repeat the action to the same result. “I think, perhaps, it is time we retired” Legolas breathed as the man continued to place soft, wet kisses to the delicate skin of his throat.


“Mmm… I’ll think about it”, but despite his words, the man hastily backed them up towards the large bed in the center of the tastefully decorated room that was theirs. They tumbled upon the bed a mass of limbs, breathy moans of both the quite, musical timber of the elf, and the deeper rasp of the man, flittered softly about the room. The thin robes that they both had been wearing were quickly pushed from strong shoulders to bare flesh to hungry eyes. “I will have you,” Aragorn gasped out,” his promise sending a shiver of anticipation and pleasure down the spine of his partner.


“Yes.” Long legs were spread apart, so that the man could settle between warm thighs. Kisses were exchanged between hungry mouths that parted only for shuddering breaths. A sharp cry, and a heady moan gasped through the room as pale flesh yielded…as two souls collided yet closer together so that it was near impossible to tell one being from the other. Elf and man were one in that moment, in body, heart, and soul.