Son of the Eldar

Title: Son of the Eldar
Author: TICS
Rated: NC17
Genre: Slash, Mpreg, Romance, Angst, AU Movieverse
Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you might recognize...just borrowing.
Summary: Takes place after the Return of the King. Arwen took her father's advice and sailed to Valinor, leaving Aragorn bereft. Legolas steps in to comfort the King, and finds himself in a situation which he had never dreamt possible.

A/N: Written for the Secret Santa Swap at the Lotrallslash Group

Son of the Eldar
Part One

The day was crystal clear and warm, and a gentle breeze blew across the Court of the Fountain where hundreds had gathered to bear witness to the coronation of the true King of Gondor, Elessar, known as Aragorn, son of Arathorn. The Heir of Isildur had come home.

A hush fell over the assembled throng as Gandalf the White's strong voice bestowed upon Aragorn the crown of Gondor. The breeze picked up as if fanned by the hands of the Valar themselves, sending a shower of soft snowy petals from the White Tree over the heads of the crowd, carpeting the path the new King's feet would take.

His voice was strong as he sang the ancient lyrics, but it also held a note of sadness that was nearly tangible. Each word he sang touched a place deep in Legolas' heart and struck a blow there that brought tears to the Elf's eyes.

This should have been the most happy day in all of Estel's life, but now, as relieved as he and the rest of the free peoples of Middle Earth were to have the true King upon the throne of Gondor, his personal happiness lay in shattered fragments, scattered across the cold stone hearth. There he had dashed to pieces the token that had been given him in promise by the one he had hoped would be his Queen. No Queen would take his hand on this day, nor on any day hence. Arwen had sailed to Valinor at Elrond's behest and with her had sailed Aragorn's heart, leaving the King hollow and empty.

Legolas placed his hand on the King's shoulder as Estel paused before him, a weak smile upon his lips. Together they had fought many enemies, walked paths fraught with danger and evil and had together emerged triumphant into the light. Closer than brothers, they were often of one mind and yet there was a secret that Legolas held hidden deep within his heart that he had never dared let light shine upon. Only at night, when alone in the darkness would he admit to himself that it existed at all. A love not brotherly in nature. A love abhorred by some, rejected by most. A love of his friend that went far beyond comradeship.

Now, as he gazed into the sad, dark blue eyes of the Man who was King, Legolas ached to share that secret...yearned to give comfort to his friend, his companion, his other-self. Still, he held his tongue, allowing only his eyes to communicate the depths of his feelings.

With a short nod and a soft sigh, the King moved on to where the Hobbits waited. Legolas watched as he offered them the thanks of his people, and all went down on bended knee before the four tiny Halflings.

With a flutter of wings, hundreds of white doves were released into the air, a snowstorm of pale birds against the deep blue, cloudless sky. Symbols of peace, they heralded the beginning of the King's reign. Thereafter, the crowd began to disperse, all and sundry heading off to prepare for the banquet that would held at sundown. Feasting, music, dancing, ale and wine...a celebration the likes of which had not been seen in Gondor for time out of memory. And yet, the guest of honor would be absent. Aragorn, Legolas was certain, would be alone in his chambers, staring at the broken pieces of his heart that lay in the cold ashes of the hearth.

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It was as he had feared, Legolas realized as he entered the Great Feasting Hall of the King's House later that same day. Elessar had opened the feasting with a short speech of welcome, and then had melted away silently with the stealth of a Ranger from the celebration in his honor. None had even noticed his departure, too caught up in the revelry were they to miss the presence of their King.

But not Legolas. Always he was aware on some level of Estel's whereabouts, be it in camp, in the forest, or here, in this immense stone structure that seemed likely to serve more as Estel's prison than his home. With the grace and skill of his centuries as a warrior Legolas slipped away, wandering up the great flight of stairs to the upper levels of the King's House.

He found himself standing outside of the door that led to the chamber of the King, and knew instinctively that Aragorn sat weeping on its other side. No guards had been posted, or those who had been assigned had been dismissed. Aragorn would wish no one to bear witness to his grief. He could feel Estel's tears as they were torn from his heart, and ached to comfort him. Lifting a hand, he knocked softly at the door. When silence greeted his rapping, he knocked again, louder and more insistently.

The door did not open, but a muffled voice sounded from the other side requesting solitude. The voice was strained and weary, full of heartbreak, and Legolas would have no more obeyed it than he would have cut off his own right arm. Instead, he straightened, a frown creasing his otherwise smooth brow. He rapped again, sharply. "Estel...open the door and bade me enter," he called, his hand working the elaborate doorknob.

"Legolas, please...I wish to be alone."

"Not all wishes are to be granted, Estel. Let me in."

"I've no wish for company tonight, my friend. Let me be."

"And I have no wish to continue this conversation in the hallway. Let me in."

Legolas could hear Aragorn mutter under his breath something about the stubbornness of Elves exceeding even the stubbornness of Dwarves, but to his relief he also heard the latch disengaged from within the room. The knob turned under his fingers and he eased the door open, slipping into the darkened room.

The only light came from a single wall torch, flickering weakly near the bed. Aragorn did not turn to greet him, but rather had walked silently to a chair set near the fireplace, setting himself in it and staring sullenly at the unswept hearth. In the shadows he sat, seemingly a shadow himself.

His feet fairly flew across the room as the Wood Elf came quickly to Aragorn's side and dropped to his knees next to the King. Laying his warm hands over those of the former Ranger, he turned sympathetic eyes up toward red-rimmed ones. "Estel," he whispered, "You can no longer do this to yourself. You have grieved for far too long already, my friend."

"How can I not grieve? My heart is dead, Legolas. Dead and rotting. She has killed me no less than if she had run me through with a blade. I breathe, and I eat, and I slumber but my soul has withered and blown away on the wind. I am empty...a husk. I am alone!" Aragorn wept, covering his face with his hands.

"Nay! Never were you alone...never will you be alone! There are others who care for you, Estel," Legolas finished quietly, his own tears threatening. "Others who love you."

"Not as she did!"

"More than she did! There are others who will not leave you...who would never leave you!" Legolas whispered fiercely, the emotions that struggled to be free from the confines of his heart making themselves known unwillingly in the strength in which the Elf's hands gripped those of the Ranger.

Aragorn flicked his eyes up toward Legolas, pain etched in his handsome features. "Who? Who can possibly take the place of her whom I have loved all these years? Who can soothe the wounds she has left in her wake? They run too deep, Legolas. They will be the end of me."

"I will not allow you to wither from grief, Estel. I cannot...for it would mean my own end," Legolas confessed, dropping his eyes, unable to meet the startled blue ones of the King. He heard Aragorn's breath hitch in his chest as the Wood Elf's words registered through the King's grief.

"What are you saying, Legolas?" Aragorn asked softly, incredulously. "Our friendship has indeed seen us through dark times, and ever have you fought at my back...but surely its loss would not be cause enough for one of the Eldar to fade..."

A single crystal tear tracked down Legolas' fair cheek, sparkling even in the gloom of the darkened chamber. "I would fade as surely as the seasons will turn, Estel. Even now, as I watch you grieve and ache - your pain is my own."

A finger reached out and caught up the tear as it slid down the Wood Elf's velvety soft cheek. "Legolas...I beg of you not to say such things. You are the light that has led me through the darkness to the dawn...even the thought of the loss of that light in this world is unbearable to me. We are brothers in spirit, my friend."

"Brothers...and yet, Estel...I feel more for you than a brother. Please, do not turn from me! Heed my words, and then I will leave you if it is what you wish...but listen first, I beg you!" Legolas cried softly, lifting his saddened sapphire eyes up toward the King of Gondor. "I have known you for many years, Estel, nearly from your youngest days. I have watched you grow from a tempestuous, gangly youth to a man worthy of the crown of Gondor. You have fulfilled your destiny with pride and grace, and ever will I feel honored to have traveled by your side on your journey. But...at some moment in our past, unbeknownst to me and unbeckoned, my feelings for you changed, Estel. I kept silent knowing that your heart belonged to another, sated with the knowledge that you were happy, even when that happiness doomed me to watch always from the shadows and never know the joy of your love."

Legolas reached a tentative finger upwards, tracing the curve of Aragorn's strong jaw. The King did not flinch from his touch, but his lips were parted in shock at the revelation of Legolas' words as they reached his ears. "Now," Legolas continued, his heart hammering in his chest, "I ache to comfort you...to give you surcease from your pain. Not as a brother, Estel...but as someone much more. I would love you as no other has ever been loved before. So great is the wealth of my love for you that at times I am overwhelmed...stopped in my tracks by its strength. I love you, Estel," he finished simply, letting both his eyes and his hand drop, as he knelt silently awaiting Aragorn's reply to his confession.

For a few moments, the only sound was the soft breathing of Man and Elf as they sat, two figures frozen in a tense tableau...one dark and rigid, the other golden and trembling. Then the moment was shattered as the King rose, towering over the Elf who remained on his knees. Aragorn felt his body shudder, but to his own disbelief it was not in anger but in relief. His knees gave way and he sank to the floor next to the Wood Elf.

"These are not words I had ever expected to hear from your lips, Legolas Thranduillion, and I would think them a lie but for the honesty in your voice that rings clear. In turn, I will be truthful to you. Up until a short time ago I would have shunned you for such a revelation. I would have denounced you...banished you from my sight. For to accept your sentiments would have been tantamount to admitting that many times, in the deep of night, I too, harbored thoughts of such a nature about you," Aragorn whispered, reaching out a hand to tentatively touch Leoglas' hands. "How could I not have had such thoughts from time to time? Although Arwen had held my heart, she was rarely in my company. She did not comfort me with soft words of encouragement. You did. She did not fight at my back. You did. She did not follow me on paths where no one else would dare tread. You did. You did all of these things without pause or thought of recompense, always serene, always...beautiful. Yes, I have always seen your beauty, Legolas. I am not blind. It shines like a beacon through the foggiest of nights. I would tell myself that it was only the love of brothers that I felt. I would bitterly berate myself when other thoughts, thoughts I had been told no male should ever feel for another infiltrated my mind and I would promise myself that never again would I think of you in such a way. I would tell myself that it was to Arwen that I was betrothed. Yet there were many times when I could not stop myself from wondering what it would be like...to touch you...to hold you...to...kiss you..."

As these last two words slipped from his lips, Aragorn realized he had been leaning closer and closer to the Wood Elf, until those final words put him mere inches away from Legolas' tender lips. In the space of a heartbeat he closed the distance, touching his lips lightly to the Wood Elf's own.

As if a floodgate had been opened, Aragorn felt something within his deepest self give way under the soft warmth of the Elf's lips against his own. A rising passion unlike any he had ever felt before burst through, flooding him, encompassing and overpowering his entire world until there was nothing left but himself and the beautiful Elf, his brother-by-choice, his Legolas. Once unleashed, his desire could not be re-contained. His behavior was spurred by his angst over Arwen's abandonment of him, although the realization of that did not occur to him until much later. For now, all that he knew, all that he felt, all that he could comprehend was that his Legolas was here with him, comforting him, kissing him.

His Legolas. His Legolas. Those two words echoed over and over again in Aragorn's mind as his tongue slipped past Legolas' lips and felt the tingle and warmth of the Elf's tongue for the first time. The King's hands slid under the silky sheaf of Legolas' golden hair, lacing behind the Elf's head, pulling him deeper into Aragorn's kiss.

The touch of Aragorn's lips on his at first froze him place, then bestowed in his soul a freedom unlike any the Elf had ever known. Every quiet thought, every hidden hunger was released in a torrent that swept along his being in a flood of emotion. He quickly warmed to the kiss, his tongue rolling over and around Aragorn's as Legolas finally tasted what he had only dreamed of for so very long. The unfamiliar scratchiness of Estel's beard against the smooth skin of Legolas' face felt more erotic than uncomfortable, and Aragorn's hands, although rough and calloused, felt more right than the Elf could have imagined as they slid around his neck and threaded themselves in his hair.

At last Aragorn broke away, sliding both his hands over Legolas' smooth cheeks and looking at him intently. "Legolas...are you certain that this is what you want?" he asked as he gazed into the summer blue eyes that were so familiar to him.

"Aye, Aragorn...I wish to...to..." Legolas stammered unsure of how to phrase what he wished...what he wanted Aragorn to do to him, and what he in turn wished to do to Estel. Finally he took a deep breath and said simply, "Take me to your bed, Estel..."

Aragorn rose, holding out a hand to the Mirkwood Prince to help him up from the floor. Once standing, he drew the Elf close and kissed him deeply, running his hands over the strongly muscled back of his long-time friend. It occurred to him that he enjoyed the feel of the rippling muscles under his fingers, and that he suddenly wanted very much to feel them without the barrier of the Elf's tunic. His fingers traveled to the front of Legolas' tunic, carefully undoing the clasps that held it closed and sliding it from the Elf's shoulders. His boots and leggings quickly followed, exposing all of the Wood Elf to the King's eyes.

Over the course of their years of friendship and travel Aragorn had seen Legolas unclothed many times, but somehow, until this moment, the true beauty and perfection of the Elf had never quite hit him...and had definitely never had the effect on him that it did now.

The Elf was tall and slender, as were most of his ilk, but his shoulders were hard and broad from his centuries of drawing a bow and wielding his twin fighting knives. His chest was chiseled, his belly hard and sculpted. Lean hips and long legs led down to graceful feet that Aragorn knew could run atop snow without leaving a single footprint in his wake. All this Aragorn saw and drank in, but it was the Elf's member, erect and purpling with need that caught and drew the King's attention.

"So beautiful, Legolas..." Aragorn moaned as he captured the Elf's lips again in a fevered kiss, rubbing himself against the Wood Elf's body.

Legolas moaned in reply, his heart leaping within his chest as Estel pressed his body against his own. The Elf's hands now flew, attacking the robes of the King's new office that clothed the erstwhile Ranger, eagerly seeking to feel flesh beneath his fingers. He was rewarded in moments as Aragorn shrugged off his robes.

The hair which covered the Ranger's chest had always intrigued Legolas and he had always been curious about its curly texture. Now he indulged himself fully and ran his fingers through it, enjoying the feel of it under his palms. He found the differences between the body of the Adan and his own to be captivating...and exciting. His fingers lingered over Estel's cinnamon-colored nipples, which peeked from beneath the hair of the Ranger's broad chest. Following the thin trail the hair made down the very center of the King's lean belly, Legolas' fingers soon found themselves touching the thick thatch of black hair that nested around Aragorn's proud erection. As his fingers brushed against Aragorn's turgid length, the King gasped softly, his own hands sliding down over Legolas' arms to rest over his lean hips.

Legolas' eyes were half-hooded with desire as he looked down between their bodies, watching as his own fingers curled around Aragorn's member, even as Legolas' own organ lay trapped against the King's hip. The hot, silken flesh of the Estel's rigid organ seemed nearly to burn through the skin of his palm, drawing a hiss of pleasure from Legolas' lips. It was a tool worthy of the King of Gondor, Legolas thought as he slowly began to stroke the thick shaft he held in his fist. Lifting his head he sought Aragorn's lips once more.

Aragorn was certain that the Elf's long, elegant fingers as they stroked and squeezed him would be his undoing. He knew the strength that lay in those fingers, now he knew also the gentleness that resided in them. But he also discovered that those gentle fingers would milk his release from him all too soon...much too soon, as far as Aragorn was concerned, a scenario that the King steadfastly refused to allow.

Turning his body, breaking contact between himself and the Elf, he guided the ethereal being toward his bed. Pushing Legolas gently backward, he lay his lover back, lifting Legolas' legs and placing them up on the down-filled mattress. Taking a moment to not only collect himself but to take a small vial of bathing oil from his wardrobe, he joined Legolas on the bed, climbing over the Elf and stretching out next to him.

Again he kissed his Elven lover, running his tongue over the Elf's sweet, soft lips before thrusting it more forcefully between them. He gasped as Legolas rubbed his burning erection against Aragorn's thigh, and his own rigid member twitched in response. His patience was at a near end...he could not, would not bear much more of this touching and rubbing before taking what Legolas had so plainly offered him. He could already imagine himself plunging deeply into the Wood Elf's body and that thought suddenly had him panting into Legolas' mouth, groaning.

Aragorn had had several lovers in his lifetime, although none had meant much more to him than a simple diversion...tavern wenches and milk maids who had willingly shared themselves with the mysterious Ranger. Never before had he made love to one of the Eldar for Arwen had never allowed him to touch her so intimately, and certainly not to a male. Still, through bawdy barroom chatter he had gleaned enough information to be knowledgeable about the specifics, and his imagination, on those rare occurrences when he would allow himself such thoughts of a carnal nature about the Woodland Prince, gave him direction.

Legolas, as an unmated male of his kind, was a virgin. The most experience he had had over the course of his long life had been a few brief, stolen kisses here and there, and the only release he had ever found was that achieved by his own hand. To have another warm body pressed against his own, touching him in his most intimate places was a new experience for him, and he knew instinctively that none would ever touch him again as his Estel was doing at that moment. For not only did Aragorn caress his flesh, he caressed his heart as well, filling Legolas with more love and desire than the Elf had ever dreamt possible. The Man was setting the Elf's very soul afire along with his flesh.

He moaned softly and writhed as Aragorn bent his head to nibble and suck gently at the delicate skin of his neck, and he arched his back as the Ranger's tongue and lips descended down his chest to suckle a rosy nipple into a hard peak. Not idle, the King's hands touched and stroked the Elf's silken skin, sliding down Legolas' side to his strong thigh, then up the inside of his leg, kneading at the soft flesh of his inner thigh. Soon, Aragorn's mouth had worked its way down Legolas' taut belly to where his member rose, throbbing now with the Elf's need.

Nothing could have prepared the Elf for the sensation of Aragorn's hot mouth descending over the head of his weeping organ. He never even felt Estel's hands leave his skin for the overwhelming waves of pleasure that the King's mouth was drawing from him through Legolas' weeping member. The Elf did feel the return of the King's hands, though, when Aragorn parted Legolas' legs and felt gently with slicked fingers for the opening he knew lay there, waiting.

Aragorn slipped a single digit past the tight ring of muscle that guarded Legolas' most private place, gasping around the Elf's member at the tightness and heat that enveloped his finger. As he slowly worked in another finger alongside the first and began to move them within the Elf's channel, Legolas' back suddenly arched from the bed, and Estel drank deeply of the Elf's essence as it spurted thickly down his throat.

Legolas' taste, combined with Estel's own name on the Elf's lips as his climax took him sent a sudden shudder of desire down Aragorn's spine. Growling deep within his chest, Estel's mouth left Legolas' softening member and the King reared between the Elf's legs, bending them at the knee and spreading them wider to accommodate himself. His dark blue eyes were half-hooded, nearly black with his barely checked need as they met Legolas' own of a softer blue. Legolas' eyes opened wide as he watched his lover prepare himself to enter the Elf's body.

Aragorn positioned himself and pressed the rounded tip of his erection into Legolas' rosy opening, carefully pushing himself deeper while watching the Wood Elf for any signs of distress. He had no wish to hurt his long-time friend but knew that only an Act of Eru could stop him from sheathing himself completely in the silken channel that clenched at his erection. He was too far gone to stop, and prayed that Legolas would forgive him for any pain he might be causing the Wood Elf.

He needn't have worried, for although the feeling of being filled by the King's organ was uncomfortable at first, the sensations that ripped through the Elf's body as Estel began to move within him fully compensated for any discomfort. Within moments Legolas felt his own organ respond once more, growing stiff and full again against his belly.

Legolas ran his hands over Estel's chest, then reached between his own legs to feel the King's thick member as it slid in and out of his body, his fingers coming away moist with both the oils Aragorn had used, and the telltale droplets of Estel's pleasure. The scent of sex was heavy in the air, mixed with both the lighter fragrance of the Wood Elf's sweat and the muskier odor of the Man. Legolas inhaled deeply, his eyes rolling back in his head as he moaned Aragorn's name.

Finding that he could hold back no longer, Aragorn screamed Legolas' name as he rammed himself hard into the Elf's quivering body, not realizing that he had brought the Legolas to a climax yet again as he reached his own. He filled the Wood Elf with his seed, both bodies shuddering in ecstasy.

Rolling to one side, his spent member still lying within the Elf's channel as it softened, Aragorn pulled Legolas into his arms and curled himself around the slender form of the Elf, unmindful and uncaring of the mess the remnants of their lovemaking made on the fine, crisp white sheets.

"Ai, Legolas...thank you. My most precious friend, my brother, ever have you provided whatever I have needed...a companion when I was lonely, a warrior when I rode to battle, a diplomat when my temper escaped my control...and now...now you have given me the greatest gift of all. You have given me reason to live, Legolas. For you I will go on...for you I will bear my crown and my responsibilities...for you I will not forsake this life." Tears came to Aragorn's eyes as he spoke the words that filled his heart. "I have always loved you. I can see that now. I thought Arwen held my heart for all this time, but as painful as it was for her to have abandoned me, in reality she did me a great service. It was her departure from these shores that cleared my path to you. She was only a substitute for the one I desperately wanted but thought I could never have. You, my love. My Greenleaf."

"I cannot stay, Estel," Legolas whispered, feeling the King stiffen around him, his arms clutching desperately around Legolas' body, holding him so tightly that the Elf could feel the thudding of the King's heart against the skin of his back.

"What are you saying? Of course you will stay! You must stay! Legolas...I did not take your body simply to ease my own suffering! Do you not feel as I do?" Aragorn asked, tightening his hold on the Elf even further in his angst.

The pain in Estel's voice was so sharp that it cut through Legolas' heart like a knife. "I love you Estel...I love you enough to know that I cannot stay. Your people would never accept me in Arwen's place...my presence here would only serve to create a wedge between you and your people."

"Then Eru damn them all! No man should be asked to forsake love for a throne!" Aragorn roared. Then taking a deep breath, he continued more calmly, "I am the King of Gondor, Legolas. I care not what people think...I will serve them for the rest of my life gladly, keep them safe, keep them well-fed, do whatever necessary to guarantee their happiness, but on this I will not give. You are mine. I have claimed you. I will not give you up to please small minds and narrow hearts. You are the boon I claim in return for serving the people of Gondor."

Legolas wept then, as the power of Aragorn's love filled his soul. "Aye, then...I will stay." He turned in Aragorn's arms and buried his face on the King's shoulder. His tears were of happiness, and he clung to his chosen one, draping a leg over Aragorn's thighs and curling his arms around the King's neck.

Thus entwined, they fell still, the Man asleep, the Elf in reverie, and did not awaken until the next morn.

TBC...