Title: Acts of Love

Author: Jen Lynn

E-mail: ilovelegolas@nyc.rr.com

Disclaimer:  This fan fiction is movie-based for the most part.  These
characters and their world do not belong to me; they're just being borrowed

Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas

Dara's (Library of Moria) challenge:  Something I'd rather see more than
anything else in the world - an Aragorn/Legolas mpreg with Aragorn carrying.
Or any other Legolas pairing with the other bearing.

Summary: After being enslaved for six hundred years Legolas escapes his
masters and finds his way to Gondor and eventually into Aragorn's arms.

Archive: LXF, LegolasLovesAragorn, Lirimaer yes.  Others please ask.

Rating: NC17

Warning: Rape.  Mpreg.

 Note: AU.  In this story Aragorn never is brought to Rivendell to be raised
by Elrond.  Oh, and yes, I know all about elves dying if they're raped.  So
if it's going to bug you that Legolas keeps on living then don't read this.

A huge thanks are in order to the two people who beta-ed this for me.  Peony
(who came up with a great plot twist) and Jean.







Prologue:

Isildur stared into the fires of Mount Doom.  The golden ring felt heavy in
his hand.

 "Cast it into the fire.  Destroy it!"  Elrond boomed.

"No," Isildur answered, turning to leave.

"Isildur!"  Elrond commanded and raised his bow, an arrow pointed at the
man's heart.

"Ah, you would betray our alliance so soon?" he sneered.

"Throw it into the fire.  Now!  Or you die here," Elrond finished coolly.

Isildur read the look in the elf's eyes and believed he would kill him if he
did not destroy the ring.  With great effort Isildur walked to the edge of
the chasm and threw the ring in.  He then turned his back on Elrond and
walked out.  Elrond released the breath he had been holding and lowered his
arrow.

Although only having possessed the ring for scant minutes Isildur's mind
became twisted with rage towards Elrond for forcing him to destroy it.  The
King of Gondor waged open war on elf kind that lasted until the reign of
Arathorn I.  Though peace was achieved the rift was too deep and the
remaining elves departed Middle-Earth, unable to trust men again.  Some,
however, remained, keeping to themselves in hidden places.  Still others
were captured by men and held as slaves.









Acts of Love



The golden-haired being did not flinch as the sounds of raucous voices
filtered into his ears.  He merely concentrated on his meal.  Tasteless
bread and water was his repast this night.  This was an abundance of good
fortune.  Most nights he survived on water alone.  And some nights on
nothing at all.  But he found he did not require as much sustenance as the
greedy, gluttonous creatures it was his lot in life to serve.

"ELF!" screamed one of his masters.  They spat it like a profanity at him.
It was the name they called him and it was what he was.  An elf.  They said
the word as if it meant he was inferior.  He knew this to be a lie.  He
could never feel lower than these foul men.  No matter how often they beat
or raped him to put him in his place he never wavered from the belief that
he was superior to them.  It was not arrogance.  The elf merely knew that
how they sought dominion over him and the beasts of this world was wrong and
that he would never crave that kind of power over others.  He rose from his
hard bed and went into the hall where the men dined.  "Yes, my lord?" the
elf asked, evenly.  This man he called lord was of no royal blood but
insisted the elf call him that just the same.

"More meat.  And be quick!"  He growled.  With a curt nod the blonde went to
the kitchen.  He began carving more meat from the beast he cooked earlier.
The smell soured his stomach.  It was not so bad to survive on bread, water,
and little else, he decided.  But yet he was grateful for one thing.  He
himself had killed the animal.  For that he was not happy, it pained him to
slaughter an innocent creature.  But in their folly they had begun bringing
him with them on their morning hunts, letting him use a bow and arrow to
hunt their food for them.  The bow he was given to use was an inferior
weapon, too small really.  Nonetheless he felt power course through his
blood as he held a bow for the first time since the day he was waylaid by
these barbarians.



 Allowing him to hunt was a recent development.  These men remembered
nothing of the strength of elves.  Over the years they became more and more
convinced of the weak nature of their slave.  The elf was happy to allow
this misperception.  He had ceased to struggle against their cruelty,
letting the men believe they had thoroughly broken his will.  He had not yet
reached the age of one hundred when he was taken prisoner and for more than
six hundred years this family had held him.

 "ELF!" the epithet came again.  He cringed this time.  He had dallied in
his thoughts far too long and would pay for it.  He picked up the heavy
serving tray and went back to the hall.  As he served the meat and was
manhandled by his owners, defiance shone in his bright blue eyes.  The
patriarch had grabbed his wrist roughly.  "You forget your place, elf," he
snarled.  "I will remind you of it tonight."  The elf did not react.
Lowering his eyes, he took the tray and exited the room.

 It was late that night when the man had come into the elf's room.  There
was no reaction as the man violently rolled the compliant elf onto his
stomach.  He felt the hard flesh ripping into him, driving in and out.  The
elf made no sound as he was brutally violated.  When the man had spent
himself deep within his slave, he left, leaving the elf stained with blood
and semen.

His body was abused but a mark was never left on his face.  Above all else
his masters coveted his beauty.  Over the long years they had tried to breed
him as if he were an animal with women, in hopes the offspring would fetch a
high price.  But no children ever came of those unions.  The elf was glad no
children of his were born to suffer his same fate.  Throughout the assault,
though his body felt pain the elf's mind was elsewhere.  He had decided to
live like this no longer.  Tomorrow he would free himself of their cruelty
or die trying.

Still aching from the previous night's assault the elf was woken at dawn to
hunt.  They kept close eye on him and only handed him a bow when the animal
was sighted.  "I am sorry," he thought as he shot the creature in the
distance.  But as one man came to take the weapon the elf spun with
heretofore unseen elven grace and speed and came up behind him.  He did not
even have time to scream in surprise as the elf snapped his neck.  The elf
then moved with lightning speed, retrieved the dead man's quiver and took
down all the remaining men.  Rage and satisfaction coursed through the
fair-haired elf as he surveyed the death toll.  He moved over to one corpse.
He picked up a longer, more finely crafted bow than the one he had been
allowed to use and took a full quiver of arrows (too short for him but they
would suffice for now).  He then sprinted into the forest in the opposite
direction of the settlement.

The elf knew he would be hunted but had decided that no one would ever own
him again.  Never would "elf" be barked at him as if he was a beast unworthy
of a name.  He knew his name but had never told a soul; even when they had
tried to beat it out of him and worse.  Legolas was his rightful name and he
would never again go by anything else.



The King sat upon his throne in Minas Tirith and studied the being that had
been brought before him.  The average person would never be granted an
audience with the King of Gondor but this was no average person.  Though he
wore a cloak and a hood hid his face it was said this was an elf.  Aragorn
was keenly interested; it had been so long since he had the company of
Elves.  He had reigned in Gondor for ten years since the death of his
father.  He understood that this was where he belonged, but that did not
stop him from missing his days as a Ranger.

Aragorn focused again on the elf.  Long ago there had been many elves on
Middle-earth but now there were scant few.  Those left either kept to
themselves in unseen places or were slaves.  As far as Aragorn was aware,
there were no elves to speak of in Gondor.  Except the one that stood before
him.  This elf was accused of stealing three horses from a farmer.  Two
guards held the motionless thief by each arm.  "Show your face to me
stranger," Aragorn finally said.

The guard on his left released his arm.  With an elegant motion Legolas'
long hand swept back the hood and revealed his face.  "I beg your
forgiveness my lord," he began.  From all Legolas had heard this king was a
good, kind man, worthy of respect.  But still this did not quell his fears.
No men were truly trustworthy, that was a lesson the elf had learned all too
well.

Aragorn felt as though all the air had been forced out of his chest.  Never
had he seen a more stunning creature.  The elf was tall and slim with golden
hair that looked like spun silk.  His cobalt eyes were clear and intense.
Aragorn found the finely pointed ears entrancing.  The elf was what some
might call pretty except that his jaw was strong and he was undeniably male.
"What is your name?"  Aragorn asked, needing to know.

"I am called Legolas," he answered.

"You are an elf," the king remarked, eyeing the delicate points at the tips
of his ears.

"I am," he stated simply.

"And a thief," Aragorn added, trying to discern what went on in the
creature's mind but unable to read anything on his lovely yet inscrutable
face.

"I am no thief," he replied serenely.

"It is my understanding that several witnesses observed this crime, seeing
you lead three horses away from the scene."

"No living creature can be the property of another.  Therefore I could not
steal what was not owned," he stated sensibly.

A small smile curled Aragorn's mouth.  He already liked Legolas.  "But you
do not deny you...freed these horses?"

"I did," Legolas answered.

"And why these particular horses?  Will you stop there?  Or do you consider
yourself the great emancipator of horse-kind?"

"Since I am in your custody my lord I do believe I will stop there.  But to
answer your question I would liberate those that were being treated cruelly
and wished to be free," he answered.

"And you know what is in the minds of beasts, elf?"  Aragorn asked.

Legolas would have winced at being called "elf" by another man who had him
as his prisoner except he quite liked the way the king said it.  "I have an
affinity with all things living," he said simply.

The king was quiet for a long while.  The man in question from whom this elf
had "stolen" the horses from was notorious for his viciousness.  This was
why the king had never purchased horses from him.  "Guard," Aragorn said,
breaking the silence.  "This elf is free to go," he said, deciding he would
speak to his steward about the matter of the horse breeder later.

"I thank you," Legolas inclined his head and turned to go.

"Legolas?"  The King began.

Hearing this man speak his name felt like a caress.  Legolas turned around.
"Yes, my lord?"

"It has been a long time since I had the pleasure of elven company.  There
are so few of your kind left on these shores.  Would you be willing to
remain for a time, as my guest?"  Aragorn asked, in his most reasoned voice,
hoping the instant attraction he felt for Legolas wasn't obvious.

Legolas inclined his head.  He was uncertain how a negative response would
be greeted.  It was better to stay in the King's good graces.  Also, Legolas
thought it might be nice to sleep in a bed for a change, without having to
keep watch for orcs or men who may assail him.  "It would be my honor, my
lord."

Aragorn smiled warmly.  "Excellent," he said.  He was about to have a guard
show the elf to the guest chambers when he had a better idea.  ""Would you
like a tour of the grounds?"

Legolas found himself smiling back.  "Thank you my lord, I would," the elf
answered.  Aragorn rose from his throne, said a quick word to his guards and
then motioned for the elf to follow.  "Your guards will not accompany us?"
Legolas asked as they exited the throne room and Aragorn led him down a
corridor.

"It is unnecessary, Gondor has been at peace for so long...although," he
said, looking the tall, slender elf up and down.  "I do have a rogue elf in
my midst..."

Legolas smiled.  "An unarmed one, my liege," he said.

"I will have your weapons returned to you Legolas," he said.  "Come, this
way," he said, leading the elf out of the palace proper and into a
courtyard.

Legolas followed the King's quick pace as he was led into a secluded garden.
His heart began to race.  The King could do anything he wished to him here
and no one would hear him scream.  Although screaming to the King's own
subjects for help would have done him little good.  And besides, he started
off as the King's prisoner; if the King wished him harm he would never have
released him.  Further, Legolas trusted this man.  He didn't know why,
because he had never trusted another, but he trusted this one nonetheless.

"Well, what do you think?"  Aragorn asked.  The elf was looking around,
touching the trees, fingering the flowers that grew.

"It is...it feels like..." he began, throat suddenly dry.

"Like what Legolas?" the king asked, seeing tears pool in the elf's cobalt
eyes.  Aragorn came very close to the blonde.

"Home," he said, choking on the word.  The tears fell then, the first tears
he had shed in hundreds of years.  Legolas suddenly fell to his knees.

Aragorn kneeled down beside him.  "This garden was a gift, the plants and
trees transplanted from a place called Rivendell, when there existed a great
friendship between the elf-lord who lived there, called Elrond, and my
ancestor Isildur."

Legolas felt his heart race as Aragorn spoke.  "Rivendell..."  Legolas
rolled the word around in his mouth.  When first he had been captured he had
clung to the warmth and safety of his memories.  But pain had consumed him,
blotting out all recollections of happier times.  "Tell me of this place,
this Rivendell...."

Aragorn frowned.  "I am sad to say it exists no more, its Lord having sailed
to the west long ago.  This gift is all that remains of The Last Homely
House."

"I have never seen a place of such beauty," Legolas whispered.

A small smile curled Aragorn's mouth.  "This garden is my favorite place in
all of Gondor...I suppose it is due to my elven heritage..."

Legolas stared deeply into the man's blue-grey eyes.  "You have elven-blood
in your veins?"

Aragorn inclined his head.  "A small amount, but yes."

Legolas reached a hand towards the King's face.  He ached to touch another
who he shared some blood tie to, however small.  His hand came against
Aragorn's stubbly cheek, slipped gently down his jaw line.  He let his thumb
brush over the man's surprisingly soft lips.  "Then in a small way, we are
kin," Legolas said through trembling lips.

Aragorn's heart was thumping in his chest as the elf ran his hand over his
face.  "Yes, I suppose we are," Aragorn replied, reaching out to wipe away
Legolas' tears.  Neither realized how long they stayed like that, kneeling
before one another, Aragorn wiping the elf's tears and Legolas caressing the
King's face.  It was Aragorn who broke the spell at last, glancing up at the
sky.  "Evening approaches...they will come looking for me if I am not in the
hall for dinner..."  Aragorn reluctantly rose to his feet.  Legolas did not.
"Legolas, will you join me for dinner?" he said.  The elf looked up at him.
Such beauty, such sadness in those eyes.  Aragorn fell in love in that
instant, with the way the elf looked at him.  Aragorn longed to gather the
elf to him and take all the hurt away.

"Yes, I would be honored.... but.... may I linger here for a while longer my
lord?" the elf asked.

Aragorn nodded.  "Of course you may.  Will you be able to find your way back
to the palace alone?"

"I remember the way my lord," he said.

"Legolas...when we are alone I would prefer that you called me Aragorn."

"Aragorn," he repeated.  "I will be along shortly Aragorn," he said.

Aragorn smiled, his heart beating faster at the lilting way Legolas said his
name.  He nodded a goodbye to the elf and disappeared onto the path, heading
back to the palace.  When the man was out of sight Legolas let the tears
flow freely.  The elf laid his body down on the velvety grass.  A peace he
had never known pervaded his body.  Gazing up at the clear sky, the stars
whispering to him, the elf lost track of time, slipping into reverie.  Hours
had passed when the sound of soft footsteps roused the elf.  Legolas stood,
seeing the King.  "My lord, forgive me...it seems I lost track of time..."

Aragorn smiled.  "It is alright.  I am disappointed though, I had been eager
to hear what brought you to Gondor Legolas."

"I do not know what brings me here, except that it is far from where I
was..."

Aragorn frowned at the cryptic response.  "And where was that Legolas?"

"A settlement of men.  As my family departed this land I was captured and
had been held as their slave for the last six hundred years," he said
softly.

Aragorn saw pain and sadness in the elf's eyes.  "Slavery is a great evil.
It has not been legal in Gondor for a very long time," the man said, coming
close to the elf.

Legolas studied the man's face, looking deep into Aragorn's kind eyes.  The
elf had never felt any physical desire for another creature.  Females did
not stir his heart at all.  His only options, having never met another like
him, were men, and the idea of freely allowing a man to touch him was
anathema to the blonde.  But there was something in this man's eyes.  And
when he smiled Legolas could feel the gentleness reverberating off of him.
"I have never met a man like you Aragorn," he said.

Aragorn laid his hand lightly against the elf's arm.  "I hope you will stay
in Gondor Legolas.  Allow me to prove to you that all men are not like the
ones that enslaved you."

Aragorn's touch was so warm.  "I do not know if I can remain here for
long... my mind exhorts me to flee this city teeming with men...and yet I
would remain here in this garden as long as you would permit me..."

"As long as you remain as my guest you may spend as much time in this garden
as you wish," Aragorn said, he was willing to do just about anything to
convince Legolas to stay.

Legolas bowed his head.  "You have been remarkably kind to me my lord," he
said.  Aragorn's hand remained on his arm and Legolas found himself wishing
he could feel the warmth of the man's entire body wrapped around him.

"Then it is settled, you are staying?"  Aragorn said, the eagerness in his
voice betraying him.

"I will stay for as long as you will have me," the elf said.

"Then come this way my friend, let me show you to your chambers," Aragorn
said.  The King reluctantly removed his hand and started for the path back
to the castle.

Legolas felt his insides twist at the loss of the man's touch.  This King
had elf-blood in him.  This garden was a gift from an elf's home.  It was in
this moment that Legolas knew that unless he was asked to, he would never
leave Gondor or Aragorn's side as long as he lived.









Legolas nodded in approval as one of his students hit the bull's-eye.  "Very
good," he said.  "I believe we should conclude our lesson for the day, end
it on a high note," the elf said.  His student said goodbye and left the
range.

The elf had been the Royal Archery Instructor for seven months now, Aragorn
creating the position for him after learning of his expertise with the bow.
It was rather unnecessary as there were already several fine instructors in
the King's employ.  The man and the elf both knew he'd only created the
position in order to give Legolas an official reason to stay.

When not on the archery range, Legolas spent all his time lingering in the
garden and getting to know Aragorn.  An easy affinity had sprung up between
them.  They desired each other's company above all others, spending long
hours together everyday.  As the bond grew and deepened with each passing
month, Legolas became one of the King's most trusted advisors and his
closest friend.

Legolas lifted his bow and took aim at the target.  He drew an arrow from
his quiver and fitted the nock to the string.  He sent an arrow flying,
splitting the one that was already stuck dead center.  His feat was rewarded
with soft clapping.  Legolas turned.  He felt his body instantly react to
the sight of the King.  "My lord," Legolas said, bowing slightly.  "Welcome
back."

"Thank you my friend.  How do the lessons go?"  Aragorn asked, looking
around.  There was no one else there.

"Well," Legolas said.  "And how were your trade meetings?"

Aragorn shook his head a little.  "Slow.  And tedious....  I am grateful to
be home...I understand it was you who convinced my Steward not to plan an
elaborate feast in the hall tonight to welcome my return," he said, an
eyebrow raised.

"Yes.  I am sorry if I took liberties Aragorn, I merely remembered how tired
you were when you returned from your last trip to Edoras."

"I am thankful you did so Legolas.  I am in no mood for the trappings of
royalty tonight...will you dine with me in my chambers this evening my
friend?"  He asked.  It was not an unusual request; oftentimes the elf and
the man shared private dinners in the king's chambers.  But somehow, when
Aragorn asked the question this time, it felt different and he waited with
bated breath for an answer from the lovely elf.

"Of course my friend," Legolas said, laying a hand on the King's shoulder.

Aragorn covered the elf's hand with his.  "Good.  I will see you there then,
after dark?"  Legolas nodded.  Aragorn squeezed the elf's hand
affectionately before releasing it and exiting the archery field.  As he
watched Aragorn leave, Legolas wished (not for the first time) that he had
someone who could tell him how one knew if they were in love.

When Legolas arrived at the King's chambers the food was already laid out
for them.  They sat on a soft, fur rug in front of the roaring fire and ate
their supper, drank their wine and talked about Aragorn's trip to Edoras and
Legolas' progress with his archery students.  When the food was done and the
wine mostly gone Aragorn rose from the floor.  "I almost forgot...I have
something for you," he said, going over to a heavy mahogany bureau.  He
withdrew a bundle of velvet tied with a crimson piece of silk.  He returned
to his seat in front of Legolas.

Legolas was squinting in interest at the bundle.  "What is this Aragorn?"

"A gift.  At first I was going to await your birthday...but then you
informed me you do not remember when it is...here," he said, handing it to
Legolas.

The elf laid it down before him and undid the sash.  He slowly unfurled it.
The satchel held two long knives, with runes carved into the white metal.
His fingers traced the writing.  He had not seen elvish for hundreds of
years and struggled to read the words.  "Aragorn..."

"They are elf weapons.  I know that writing is elvish, though my knowledge
is limited and I cannot tell you what it says...I do have a friend who is
due to visit Gondor soon who will be able to tell you what the words say."
Aragorn kept his eyes fixed on the elf's face.  He so badly wanted Legolas
to be pleased with this gift.

"How did you come by these?"  Legolas asked, in a low whisper, lifting one
of the long blades, watching it glint in the firelight.

"They were in a cache of weapons kept in storage, relics, from the Last
Alliance."

"Are you certain you wish to part with them?"  Legolas asked, looking at
Aragorn.

"They should be wielded by an elven-warrior.  I am fortunate one came
stumbling into my life..."

Legolas laid the blade next to its twin.  "I am humbled and gratified by
your generous gift my lord," the elf said, his head dipping.  "Since I have
come to this kingdom you have been exceedingly kind to me.  I am only
grieved that I have nothing I can give in return."

Aragorn took gentle hold of Legolas' chin and lifted his head.  "But you do
Legolas," he said, seriously.  He pushed the bundle aside with one hand and
then leaned in, bringing his body very close to the elf's.

So it had come to this after all.  Even Aragorn, who he had believed to be
his friend, wished the service of his body.  Legolas trembled as the King
drew near.  Hadn't he felt desire building for the King for all these
months?  But now that the man drew close fear wrapped its icy claws around
him.  "I will not Aragorn...I will not serve you in that way.  If that is
the payment you seek for your generosity then I have been mistaken to think
you my friend," he said, rising off the floor, wondering if he should grab
one of those knives in case the King intended to take what he wanted against
the elf's will.

Aragorn was on his feet immediately.  "You...you misunderstand my friend,"
he said reaching for the elf.  Legolas jerked away from the touch, backing
himself into a corner.  "Legolas...why do you recoil?  You must know you can
trust me..."  He took a step closer.  The elf flattened himself against the
wall, as if he could make himself one with it.  Aragorn backed off then,
seeing how the fear sparkled in the elf's eyes.  What could have the elf so
frightened?  Then it came to him.  Legolas had been a slave.  His owners had
probably used him for sexual pleasure.  It made Aragorn's stomach turn to
think of it.  "Legolas...forgive me, I chose my words poorly.  You are under
no obligation to repay my friendship in any way.  It is given freely."

Legolas relaxed a little, moving his body away from the wall.  "What did you
mean then?  When I said I had nothing to give and you said I did?"

Aragorn felt color rise in his cheeks.  "I...meant your heart Legolas," he
said, taking slow, careful steps towards the elf.

"My heart?"  Legolas replied, also inching back towards Aragorn.

"There is more than simple friendship between us Legolas.  I have loved you
since that day in my garden when you told me you felt like you were
home...and I know you feel it as well."

"I do not know what I feel..."

"Legolas," Aragorn said, coming very close.  The man took the elf's hand and
laid it against his own chest, letting the elf feel how his heart thudded.
"Do you feel that?"  Legolas nodded.  "Does your heart not beat faster when
I am near, as mine does for you?"

Legolas could not deny that it did.  That his body quickened not only at the
sight of the King but also at the mere thought of him.  "When you are near
Aragorn my heart beats so hard I fear it will burst.  Before you I did not
know what it meant to have a friend...  I miss you when you are not near...I
dream of you...if this is what it means to love then I love you and my heart
is already yours," he declared.

Aragorn ran his calloused hand over Legolas silken skin.  "How I have longed
to hear you say those words my love," he said, joining their mouths in a
soft kiss.

Warmth spread through the elf's lean body as Aragorn's mouth pressed against
his.  Legolas leaned into the kiss, wanting to feel more.  He let his hand
slide behind Aragorn's skull, fingers tangling in his dark hair.  Fear
dissolved within Legolas as Aragorn slid his arms around him, holding him
loosely.  Legolas deepened the kiss.  He felt Aragorn's tongue slip between
his lips, snaking against his.  Aragorn was drawing him towards the bed.
Legolas pulled away from the man.  "Aragorn I...do not know if I can...I
long for your touches...and yet I fear them..."

"Let me show you that you need not fear my touch Legolas," he said and came
very close.  He slowly brought their mouths together again, brushing his
lips against Legolas' softly.  The kiss was feathery, tender.  It asked for
nothing in return.

Aragorn kissed him lovingly.  "What is it you ask Aragorn?  The memory of
pain is sharp in my mind.  I do not know if I can allow you to enter my
body..."

"Perhaps not on this night, but in time you will trust me enough.  Tonight I
am giving myself to you Legolas, if you will have me," he said.

"You would trust me in that way?"

"That is what it is to love Legolas.  I trust you with my body as well as my
heart."  With that Legolas seized Aragorn in his arms and the two collapsed
onto the bed.  Though Legolas was the one in control it was Aragorn who
guided the elf, encouraging his caresses with soft words, stroking the elf's
back tenderly.  He was patient, allowing the elf to go at his own pace,
gently showing Legolas what to do to pleasure him.

As the elf moved inside the man he felt love cascading from his every pore.
It was uncontrollable, this torrent of warmth and passion that flowed from
the elf into the man in the same way the elf's essence surged out of him and
deep inside the King that lay beneath him.  "I love you Aragorn," he
whispered as he lay against the man's body in the aftermath.  It was not
long after this night that Legolas allowed the man to show him what it was
to be made love to.





Legolas was awoken from his elven-reverie by a familiar noise.  He sat up,
seeing the sunlight stream in between the heavy draperies of the royal
bedchamber.  His bedchamber, for it was two months since Aragorn asked
Legolas to be his Consort and one month since the ceremony.  Now he turned
his head to the noise and saw Aragorn on his knees, doubled over a basin,
retching.  Legolas slipped from the bed, kneeled behind his lover and began
rubbing his back soothingly.  "This has been going on for three weeks now my
love," Legolas said, softly.

Aragorn lifted his head, breathing heavy.  "I do not know what is happening
to my body...I am nauseous half the time, ravenous the other half..."

"This will not just pass as you have insisted Aragorn.  I will get the
healer," he said, rising.  "Can I help you lay down?"  Aragorn shook his
head and then went back to the basin.  Legolas quickly dressed and left
their chambers.  He scoured the palace until he located the healer.  As he
was about to lead the man back to the King, the King's Steward approached.
"My prince," he said, bowing slightly.

Legolas waved off Boromir's obeisance.  Legolas recalled distant days when
he had been a prince in his own right but still felt uncomfortable with the
term.  "Boromir, my friend, can this wait?  The King is not well this
morning," he said.

"Still?" he frowned.  "I am sorry Legolas, it cannot..."

"What is...Théoden King," Legolas sighed.  Edoras had been stirring up
trouble lately and Aragorn was hard at work trying to avoid conflict.

Boromir nodded.  "Theódred and several Rohirrim stand at our gates, asking
to be brought before the King," he said.

Legolas looked at the healer.  "Attend the King.  Go now," he commanded.
The healer went.  The elf turned back to Boromir.  "Get several guards and
come with me.  I will deal with Theódred."

Aragorn sat on the bed, staring down at the floor as the door swung open and
the elf strode in.  Aragorn looked up.  Legolas had a wide grin on his face.
"I bring good news my love, I believe our problems with Edoras are...over,"
he said, voice trailing off.  Aragorn wore the strangest expression on his
face.  The elf was concerned.  He looked worse than he had when Legolas had
left that morning.

"That is good news..."  Aragorn muttered.  Legolas came over to the bed.

"The healer was here..."  The elf said.  The King nodded.  "Was he able to
tell you what ails you?"  Legolas asked softly.  He brushed some of
Aragorn's hair back from his face.  The King turned his head, looking
straight into the elf's blue eyes.

"Sit beside me my love," Aragorn said, his voice soft.

Legolas did so.  "Tell me what is going on Aragorn," the elf asked in as
calm a voice as he could muster.

Aragorn drew in a breath and took his lover's hand in his.  He looked into
the archer's blue eyes and felt the tears well within his own paler ones.
The King brought his free hand up and caressed Legolas' cheek; thumb
brushing against his silken lips.  "Do you remember the day we pledged our
selves to one another in our garden?"  The man's voice hitched, the words
catching in his throat.

"Of course Aragorn," replied.  "Please, you're frightening me, tell me what
the healer said."

"On that day I swore that I would never hurt you nor leave you of my own
accord," Aragorn said, the tears starting to spill.  "I fear that I must
break that vow my love."  Legolas brought his hand up to his lover's cheek,
wiping away the tears.  "Legolas...I do not have much time left...the healer
told me.... there is something growing inside me..."

"What grows inside of you?" he asked, unable to keep the horror from his
voice.

"It is a mass...he has seen this very thing happen to others, it cannot be
stopped, there is no known treatment..."

The elf was shaking his head.  "No, I do not accept this..."  Tears of his
own had begun sliding down Legolas' face.  He rose from the bed, striding
across the room.  How could life be this cruel?  How could he find peace and
love such as he never dreamt possible only to be robbed of it so soon?  The
elf felt arms side around him from behind, felt the warmth of Aragorn press
against him.  Legolas closed his eyes, leaning back into the safety of the
man's touch.

"Forgive me my love, I would not have asked you to bind yourself to me had I
known it would sentence you to watch me die..."

"I knew I would watch you die one day Aragorn...  I simply did not know it
would be so soon...that the hour of our love would be cut so short..."
Legolas pulled out of the man's embrace and turned to face him.

"Perhaps you should leave Legolas," he said with difficulty.  "So that you
may remember me as I am, not weakened and sickly...."

Legolas seized Aragorn's face in his hands none too gently.  "No.  I will
not abandon you now.  I will be at your side and I will take care of you my
dearest, until you draw your final breath..."  Hot tears fell from the elf's
cobalt eyes.

"Legolas..."  Aragorn began, his voice raw with emotion.

"No Aragorn.  I will never leave.  I will not let you die alone.  The last
face you see, the last voice you hear, the last kiss you feel will be mine."

At this the man pulled the elf close and kissed his mouth fiercely.  He
pulled Legolas back towards the bed.  "Let me love you Legolas, while we
still have the time..."

"Are you certain Aragorn?  I do not wish to add to the pain you feel," he
said.

"My pain will only be increased if the time we have left is spent without
you in my arms," he said.  The King began undressing his lover, quickly
divesting him of his garments.  With his hands trembling, as they hadn't
since their first night together, Legolas did the same to the man.  They
tumbled down to the bed, Aragorn covering Legolas' slim body with his.
Their mouths were desperate as they kissed, their hands urgent as they
stroked each other.  Aragorn slid his organ slowly inside the elf, rocking
in and out, pressing the elf's pleasure point.  Legolas moaned his lover's
name as he released his essence between their bodies.  The man whispered "I
will love you always" as he spilled his seed deep inside the elf.  They
remained like that all night, tangled up in each other, unwilling to
separate their bodies.

At some point Aragorn was aware that the elf slipped into reverie, but for
the King, sleep was elusive.  When first given his death sentence all he
thought of was Legolas.  But that night other worries entered his mind.
When he had asked the elf to be his consort he had purposefully ignored the
question of succession.  There was no urgency, he was still very young.  He
had assumed that a solution would present itself in time.  But now there was
no time.  And no heir.  Who would rule Gondor when he was gone?  He
immediately thought of his Steward, Boromir.  A good man, no doubt and yet
the thought of leaving Gondor in his hands made Aragorn incredibly ill at
ease.  Aragorn felt the elf shift against him.  He looked into the elf's now
focused blue eyes.  The man pressed his lips to Legolas'.

The elf kissed the King softly.  He withdrew from the kiss and looked into
the other's pale eyes.  "You look tired...did you not sleep?" he asked
gently.

"I could not..."

"You need your rest Aragorn," Legolas said fretfully.

"When I leave this life behind I will have an eternity to rest," he said
sadly.  Legolas turned his head from his lover, fighting the tears that once
again threatened.  "Ah, Legolas, forgive me...that was very insensitive,"
Aragorn said.

"No, do not apologize, it is I who should be comforting you, not the other
way around.... tell me what dark thoughts plagued your mind, robbing you of
sleep."

"I think of Gondor...I do not wish to leave my people kingless," he said.
"I knew what I did when I took a male lover but always I believed that in
time a solution would become apparent..."

"And now there is no time," Legolas finished.  "As the rules of succession
stand now, if the King should...perish," he said, swallowing hard, "then the
rule of Gondor falls to the King's Steward."

"Boromir," Aragorn sighed heavily.

"He is a good man Aragorn," Legolas said, trying to ease the king's obvious
disquiet.

"Yes, but I do not believe he is fit to rule a kingdom," he said.

"What other option is there Aragorn?"  Legolas asked, feeling apprehension
twist in his stomach.

Aragorn looked away from the elf's gaze.  "I could attempt to sire an heir
while there is still time..."

"Ah, then you would take a queen?"  Legolas asked, his voice low,
unemotional.

The man looked at the elf then.  "No.  You are my mate, I have no intention
of severing our bond," he said.  "There are other arrangements...it is not
unheard of for a king nearing his death and having no heir to do what is
necessary for the good of the kingdom...but I will not do this without your
blessing my love, if the thought of me taking another to my bed is too
painful for you then I won't do it."

"I do not wish to share you with another..." the elf whispered.  Aragorn was
nodding as if he understood.  "However," Legolas began again, "you must do
what you must for the good of Gondor.  Though you do not need my permission,
you have my blessing."

Aragorn sighed.  He pressed Legolas to him, "I must see my advisors, there
is little time to waste," the King said, pulling reluctantly from his
lover's embrace.  He rose from the bed and then looked back down at the elf.
"Come Legolas, I want you to be a part of this."  Legolas inclined his head
and rose from the bed as well.  They both dressed and left the royal
bedchambers to convene a council of Aragorn's advisors.



Legolas stood looking out of the windows of the royal bedchamber.  Rain was
falling in sheets.  The moon lay hidden behind heavy gray clouds.  But still
he could see the courtyard, make out the shapes of the trees that encircled
the Rivendell garden.  He closed his eyes, remembering sunlight, warmth, and
Aragorn's touch as he wiped tears from the elf's eyes.  He recalled the
ceremony in which they bound themselves to one another.  The wizard Gandalf
had arrived just in time to witness it.  In the days preceding the ceremony
the elf and Gandalf had become fast friends, the wizard taking time to help
the elf recall long buried memory.  And when Gandalf had spoken a blessing
in elvish, Legolas had understood every word.  Those days shone bright in
the elf's mind and were undimmed by the dark days that were upon him now.

Legolas sighed.  He wished the King were with him, warming him, making him
forget that soon they would be parted.  Six months had passed since Aragorn
was told he was dying.  All that time Aragorn had been attempting to give
Gondor an heir, but to no avail.  Thrice weekly he left the elf alone in
their chambers.  When he would return they did not speak at all, they merely
slipped into bed, Legolas holding the exhausted man until he slept.

The man was tired much of the time but the nausea had long since passed.
But the mass had not ceased to grow inside the King and Aragorn swore he
could feel it pushing against him as though it wished to tear its way out of
him.  Death drew nigh and both knew it.  The chamber doors swinging open
interrupted Legolas thoughts.  He turned.  "Aragorn, you are back early," he
said.  The King had only left a half hour ago.

"I could not..." he said softly, weakly.

Legolas came over to his lover.  "You are weary, you must rest," he
insisted, helping the man to the bed.  Aragorn did not protest as the elf
helped him onto the bed.  Legolas ran his hand over Aragorn's cheek.  "Let
me get you some tea," he said, moving to go.  Aragorn snatched his hand.

"No, stay...I..." he was saying as an anguished cry suddenly escaped his
lips.

"My love?"  Legolas asked, fearfully.  He felt Aragorn's fingernails digging
into his skin, drawing blood.  The cries continued for a few minutes and
then subsided, Aragorn's chest heaving in the aftermath.

"I fear it has begun Legolas," Aragorn panted.

"No..."

"Yes...I feel torturous pain slicing through me.... it feels as though my
insides are being torn apart..."

"How long have you felt this pain?"  Legolas wanted to know.

"It began early this morning.... when you were holding the treaty meetings
with the delegation from Edoras for me...it abated for a time...but as I
waited in the chamber...it began anew," he said.  Legolas was stroking
Aragorn's forehead tenderly.  Several minutes passed and then the King let
out another gut-wrenching yell.

Legolas heart was pounding.  He had hoped that his lover's passing would be
peaceful.  Instead Aragorn was caught in the grip of agonizing pain.  When
this round ended Legolas said, "Let me get the healer, perhaps he can ease
your pain."

All the man could do was nod.  "Be quick my love..."  Legolas pressed a kiss
to his lover's forehead and sprinted from the room.  He returned with the
healer, who set about preparing a painkiller to ease the King's suffering.

By morning the King was still alive, even though the pain came at closer
intervals.  The healer remained but had little else he could do.  Legolas
was holding Aragorn's hand tightly, whispering soothing words, waiting for
this round of anguish to pass.  Over the King's yells the elf heard a
commotion in the hallway outside the bedchamber.  The guards were arguing
with someone who was insisting he be allowed in to see the Aragorn
immediately.

This round had passed and the man noticed the elf's head slightly cocked
towards the door.  "What is happening out there?"

Legolas squinted at the door, as if he could suddenly see through the heavy
wood.  He heard the intruder saying that he would turn them all into slugs
if he was not admitted at once.  "It is Mithrandir," Legolas said.  They had
sent word of the King's illness many months ago but had not heard back.

"Tell the guards to admit him at once," Aragorn said.  Legolas went out of
the chambers and into the hall.

"Ah Legolas, will you tell these fools to let me inside at once?"

"The King wishes the company of his dear friend Gandalf," he said to the
guards, who were really only doing as Legolas' had commanded in keeping
people away from Aragorn.  They nodded and the wizard followed the elf into
the anteroom.

"Legolas, I am so sorry I did not come sooner, I have been delayed at
Isengard for months...is Aragorn as bad off as the letter said?"

"It is worse I fear...if you had arrived any later..." he voice became
choked with sadness.  Gandalf laid a sympathetic hand on Legolas' back.
"Come my friend, the healer has been of no use in alleviating Aragorn's
pain, perhaps there is something you can do for him."

"If it is in my power to help then I shall," the wizard stated and followed
the elf inside.

Legolas went right back to Aragorn's side who was calm for the moment.
"Gandalf is here my dearest," he said.

Gandalf approached.  "Forgive the lateness of my arrival my friend," Gandalf
said, coming close.

Aragorn took the wizard's hand.  "I am glad you are here Gandalf...I would
not have liked to leave this world without seeing my oldest friend," the
King said.

The wizard offered Aragorn a kindly smile.  He laid his hand against the
King's forehead.  "That's odd..." he muttered under his breath.

Legolas caught the words.  "What is odd?"

"Hmm," the wizard mumbled as he brought his hand down against the man's
bulging stomach.  "Most odd..."

As the wizard carefully probed his stomach Aragorn let rip another agonized
howl.  "Legolas?"  He panted, forcefully jerking the elf by the hand and
pulling him close.

The elf kneeled on the floor beside the bed, watching Aragorn suffer and
writhe in pain.  "I am here my dearest," he soothed.

"This pain is too much...I cannot stand it any longer..."

"And you do not have to," Gandalf stated, rising to his feet.  He walked
over to the healer.  "What kind of a healer are you?  Telling the King he is
dying when it is quite the opposite?"

The healer quaked a little at the wizard's tone of voice.

 "I assure you, I have seen these cases before.... he is dying."

"Gandalf?  What is going on?"  Legolas asked.

"This man clearly does not know a pregnancy from a tumor!"  Gandalf shouted.

"Pregnancy!"  Legolas and Aragorn said at the same time.

"Yes.  Pregnancy.  Rare, but not unheard of among the elves.  And it seems
Aragorn has just enough elven-blood to make it possible.  Legolas get this
fool out of here so we can deliver your child," Gandalf said.

"You are all insane!" the healer was shouting as the elf roughly escorted
him from the room.

Gandalf was rummaging through the healer's supplies.  He produced a fine
blade.  "Legolas, disrobe your mate," he ordered.

Legolas nodded, too numb to think straight.  He couldn't wrap his mind
around the idea that Aragorn wasn't dying.  All the King wore was a dressing
gown, which Legolas quickly removed.  He saw Gandalf by the fire, letting
the flame burn the blade clean.  Legolas held Aragorn's hand tight as more
roaring screams ripped through the room.  Aragorn whispered the elf's name
fearfully.

"I am here my love," Legolas managed.  Gandalf was quick, cutting into the
King and then withdrawing a wriggling infant.  The elf kept his eyes fixed
on the man's as the child was extracted from the King's body.  There was
silence in the room as Aragorn's head fell back, his chest heaving in the
aftermath.  Legolas did not look from his lover's face.  But he had heard no
cries from the infant; the quiet was driving Legolas to the brink of
madness.  Finally, a loud wail was heard.  Legolas and Aragorn smiled at
each other in that moment, tears streaming from the man's eyes.

"Take your son from me Legolas, I must close the incision," the wizard said.
Legolas let go of Aragorn's hand.  Gandalf had wrapped the child in
Aragorn's discarded gown.  Carefully Legolas took the tiny creature from the
wizard and cradled it in his arms.  Legolas was entranced, staring at his
child.  Gandalf stitched up the King and produced a phial from the healer's
kit.  "To prevent infection.  At least that daft man is good for something,"
he said, giving it to Aragorn, helping him drink the liquid.

"Thank you," Aragorn breathed.

Gandalf smiled at him and pulled the covers up over his lower half.  "I will
leave the royal couple to their joy.  I will be close by if you need
anything else Aragorn," Gandalf said.

Aragorn nodded, watching the wizard leave.  Legolas had sat down beside
Aragorn, cradling the infant in his arms.  He watched the elf take a finger
and lightly trace the curve of the tiny pointed ear.  "It seems I have given
Gondor an heir after all," he whispered.

Tears were spilling down Legolas cheeks.  "Yes...and I am not going to lose
you..."

"No," Aragorn said, stroking the elf's back.

"Ah, here, you have not held our son," Legolas said, carefully handing the
baby to Aragorn.  He watched as Aragorn gently cradled the infant.  "He is
rather handsome, don't you think?"

"Yes, he..." he looked to Legolas.  "We have a son?" he said, only having it
dawn on him just then.

"Yes, it seems so," Legolas said.

"I think he looks like you."

"Really?"  Legolas asked, staring at the tiny face, trying to discern some
of his features there.  But all he saw when he looked at the infant was the
love he felt for Aragorn.

"He has your ears," Aragorn stated.

Legolas laughed softly.  "I suppose he does..."

"So my love," Aragorn began, "What should we call him?  Aragorn III
perhaps?"

"Estel," Legolas said softly.

"Estel?"

"It means hope in elvish.  You gave me hope in the goodness of men Aragorn.
You taught me to love, " he said.

Aragorn nodded, touching the infant's cheek with his finger.  "Estel," he
said, leaned up and kissed Legolas tenderly.  "Perhaps when it is your turn
we will give him a sister, hmm?"

The End