One night, it was cool and damp in the land of Rohan, and the travellers had stayed indoors. Legolas had excused himself from the company, as was often his will, for although he was now comfortable in the presence of men, still there were times when he wished to be alone with his thoughts. It should have been a happy time, now Gandalf was back, but much had passed which had been new and strange to him, and terrifying also, even to one so steadfast and bold. He would have been glad to take some counsel with his own kin, but for now he made do with solitude as he sat in his small room.
The moonlight came in dimly from a single window, but a fire burned warm in the grate and lit up the lodgings with its red flicker, where the elf's travelling things lay in the corner still unpacked. He did not get up to arrange them now, but sat motionless on the bed in deep thought. And his face wore an expression which did not suit its youth and nobility: an expression of weariness and great sorrow, which he had not shown before to the others. His eyes were glazed and unfocused when there came a knock upon the door, and immediately he snapped into full consciousness. "You may come in," he called, and his voice was as clear and as assured as it had ever been.
The door opened slowly to reveal Boromir, who looked in hesitantly. "I am not disturbing you, am I?"
Legolas shrugged gracefully and smiled. "As you see, I am not occupied."
Boromir nodded, and came and sat beside him on the bed. He looked at the elf with a slight frown. "You ate little this evening. I thought that perhaps you were unwell."
"No. I am quite well." There was a long pause. Then Legolas continued: "You did not wish to stay with the King and his men?"
"I was worried about you."
"But as you can see, you have no need to be."
Boromir looked at him. "Do I not?" he said.
Legolas shifted uncomfortably. "I only wished to be alone for a while. I have had little privacy these past months, and it has wearied me. Not that I could have asked for better company," he added hastily. There was another long silence, and the two of them sat watching the flames dance at their feet.
"I suppose, then," said Boromir at last, "that you desire me to leave? Since it seems there is something on your mind."
"Oh no – I did not mean to be discourteous. I have no such desire, if there was some weighty purpose to your visit."
At this, Boromir looked into his eyes. "There was," he said softly.
"There was?" reflected Legolas, puzzled.
There was no reply at first, but then the tall young man leant a little closer and whispered: "You are an extraordinarily beautiful creature, Prince Legolas."
He thought he would have been afraid to say those words, but in the firelight, with the prince beside him, they were so true and so heartfelt that they came easily to his tongue. Legolas parted his mouth in an expression of surprise, but his open lips were so tempting that Boromir gathered him in his arms and kissed him feverishly. There was no resistance – Legolas was as limp and motionless as if he had fainted into Boromir's lap, and he did not fight against the caress. To the man, the elf's lips tasted like the sweetest honey, and they were softer than he could have imagined. He could not help but sigh into his mouth, and the blood burnt in his veins. He kept on kissing him, possessively, not wanting to let go, as if by pouring his passion into his beloved he could somehow make him his own. And then he felt the heat within him become uncontrollable, and he began to fondle Legolas and unfasten his shirt. But a soft cry of protest came from the prince, who broke the kiss and turned his head away. "Please," whispered Boromir to him as he held him close, "do not be afraid. Lie with me tonight."
"No – I cannot!"
"Yes, yes. Come, lie with me – let me love you."
"No, Boromir!" He stood up, and now Boromir saw that the elf's face was flushed and full of self-loathing.
"Why? What is the matter?"
"How can you do this? How can you bear to touch me?"
"What do you mean?"
"After what has happened! Another man kissed these lips. Another man touched where you have touched. How can you do the same without feeling disgusted?"
"I have no shame in touching you. I beg your pardon, if I have reminded you of that time when you were so brutally assailed. But you cannot disgust me."
"Then maybe I disgust myself," he said softly, his eyes full of tears. "My body has been soiled by his foul hands. No one could truly love me, if they knew what you knew."
Boromir looked at him in astonishment: the most honourable and virtuous creature he had ever known, and yet consumed with self-hatred. He shook his head.
"You are wrong, Legolas. I will show you how much I love you. Listen to me, and I will tell you."
"No!" he said, and he was white with fear. "Sometimes, it is better to keep things locked away from others. It is better not to know."
Boromir fell to his knees and grasped the prince's hand, and the slim white fingers looked helplessly delicate against his own rough palm. "You must at least hear me. I will speak out my heart, whatever should be your reply." He gazed deep into the eyes of the elf. "I know that my birth is far below your own, and that the great kings do no suffer union between our peoples, and yet I would ask you this: if you give me your hand in marriage, I will honour you until my dying day." He spoke hoarsely, such was the fervour in his voice. Legolas turned away his head and closed his eyes as if in pain.
"Legolas? You are a prince, and a warrior, and I fear that I cannot be worthy of you. But you have stolen my heart, and have it in your keeping forevermore."
Legolas shook his head, as if to say that such a thing could never be.
"You have been my comrade in arms," tried Boromir again. "As a brother you have been to me. But you must know that any man who looked upon you must desire you. I am as any other man, Legolas, but I will care for you like no other, if you would consent to lie in my bed."
Legolas turned sadly towards him and put both hands on Boromir's shoulders. "You have been a dear friend to me, and I would never willingly cause you pain, but I cannot accept your offer." He looked with shining eyes into Boromir's face.
"Please do not think that all your kindness to me has not been valued. It has – and I thank you for it."
There was silence. Boromir turned away. He felt curiously flat, as if all the words and thoughts within him, now let go, had left him hollow. "You have then, as I thought, some other lover to whom you owe your loyalty?"
"No," he replied softly, unable to lie.
"Then why do you turn me away?" demanded Boromir with bitterness.
"Do not speak so! I owe you my very life, Boromir, for I might have wasted away with grief these past months, had you not been by my side. But there are reasons for my reply, which I cannot now explain. You must be satisfied with my answer, and ask no more of me. Please, Boromir, do not ask any more." He stifled the sob in his throat, and Boromir took him in his arms.
"I would give my life for you, if you would accept my love. What are you to other men? Nothing but a beautiful plaything, an adornment for them to parade. That will never be what you are to me."
But Legolas tore himself from Boromir's embrace and turned away from him. "I will leave this place tomorrow morn. I should have left earlier for my home, many days ago."
"What is this? Why do you run away? I would never hurt you, Legolas. I could never cause you harm."
"You would harm both of us, Boromir, without knowing that you did. I will say no more," he said, resolute. "It is enough. You have my answer, and you must be content."
Boromir saw the blaze of determination in his eyes. It provoked an utterance that he would never have spoken, had his heart not been so bitterly disappointed.
"Go, then! Go and seduce some other poor fool and play him with your wiles. Small wonder the Lord of the Nazgul used you as nothing more than his whore."
No sooner had he closed his mouth he repented his words. But it had been done. The colour drained out of Legolas's face, leaving it ashen pale. He did not speak, and fled from the room, leaving Boromir wretched and alone.
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