Title: Mortal Love Author: Jen Lynn E-mail: jmo75200@yahoo.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, Legolas/Boromir Summary: As Legolas arrives at Rivendell for the Council of Elrond he remembers the time he spent there with Aragorn. Archive: Lirimaer, Moria yes. Others please ask. Rating: NC17 Thanks again to Jean for her feedback! Note: Several lines of dialogue are taken directly from the film. The Italics indicate a recollection. [Translation in brackets] Mortal Love Chapter 1: You Won’t Be Mine You Won't Be Mine Matchbox Twenty Take your head around the world See what you get From your mind Write your soul down word for word See who's your friend Who is kind It's almost like a disease I know soon you will be Over the lies, you'll be strong You'll be rich in love and you will carry on But no - oh no No you won't be mine Take your straight line for a curve Make it stretch, the same old line Try to find if it was worth what you spent Why you're guilty for the way You're feeling now It's almost like being free And I know soon you will be Over the lies, you'll be strong You'll be rich in love and you will carry on But no - oh no No you won't be mine Take yourself out to the curb Sit and wait A fool for life It's almost like a disease I know soon you will be Over the lies, you'll be strong You'll be rich in love and you will carry on But no - oh no No you won't be mine As he dismounted his horse the prince of Mirkwood allowed a small smile to turn the corners of his lips. Rivendell was even lovelier than Legolas recalled. It had been so long since he had been to the house of Elrond. Images of the last and only time he had been to Imladris came unbidden into his mind. Legolas came with his father as part of the royal delegation on their last centennial visit. Thrandruil wanted his youngest son to begin accepting his responsibilities as a prince of Mirkwood. Legolas resented being dragged along. He had little interest in royal responsibility. He was not the next in line for Thrandruil’s throne and really did not see the point. Besides, all the pomp and circumstance felt like worthless posturing. However, the golden-haired elf’s sour mood quickly changed. Legolas had slipped out of another tedious and seemingly endless ceremonial dinner and began wandering aimlessly. “I would have thought a prince would have better manners than that…” a voice remarked. Legolas turned in the direction of the voice. Legolas took a step in the stranger’s direction. He saw a young man leaning against a tree. This had to be Lord Elrond’s foster son Estel. The elf’s curiosity was piqued He had never met a mortal man before. He looked closer. This one was very young. Not yet eighteen he recalled his father mentioning. But perhaps being shy of eighteen was not as young for a mortal as it was for an elf. Estel had longish dark hair and bronzed skin. The elf found himself fascinated by the light stubble on the youth’s face. He thought he could get lost in those pale blue eyes. Suddenly Legolas remembered that the man had spoken. “What did you say?” Legolas asked, slightly embarrassed at having become distracted. Elves were called the fair folk for good reason but this man was handsome beyond Legolas’ ability to articulate. Estel straightened and took a leisurely step in the blonde’s direction. “The banquet is far from nearing completion. Here I thought I was the only one shirking my duties by skipping it,” he said conspiratorially. Legolas smiled. “I find these events tedious beyond measure,” he admitted. “You are Lord Elrond’s foster son Estel?” The youth nodded. “I am Legolas.” “I know,” a small smile played on Estel’s lips. “I have been observing you since you’re arrival...” the young man confessed, a blush warming his cheeks. “And what have you observed?” Legolas wanted to know, taking another step in the man’s direction. He closed the gap between them. “That you are more beautiful than any elf I have ever seen,” he responded plainly pulling the willing elf against his body. The young man hesitated for a split second before pressing his mouth against Legolas’. Legolas moaned into the other’s mouth. He slipped his own tongue inside, allowing it to dance against Estel’s. He felt himself hardening within his leggings. A warning rang in his mind. This was a dangerous path to start down. He would find no lasting peace in this one’s arms. There would be joy, yes, but also suffering. Unsteady hands began to unfasten the buttons of his tunic. Legolas caught the hands in his. “No Estel,” he said softly. “But why? Do you not desire me?” A faintly wounded look crossed his face. “Yes,” he whispered huskily, running his fingers over the stubble on Estel’s jaw line. “Then do not say no,” he fairly pleaded. Estel caught Legolas’ mouth in a wild, passionate kiss. The warning in the elf’s mind was overpowered by his growing arousal. “We cannot do this here,” he finally said, as both emerged breathless from the kiss. Estel seized Legolas’ hand in his larger one. “Come,” he beckoned. The elf and the man managed to avoid all prying eyes and arrived at the bedroom belonging to the mortal. Legolas looked around. It was pleasantly decorated but not as sumptuous as the remainder of the house of Elrond. Thoughts of the décor left his mind as he became thoroughly preoccupied with the large bed. Somehow Estel had managed to get behind the elf. Legolas felt strong arms slide around him. He felt the man’s arousal against him. A hand pushed his long hair to the side and lips came down against the back of his neck. Legolas closed his eyes. He let out a soft cry when he felt the tip of Estel’s tongue slithering along the outer curve of his ear, lingering for what seemed like an eternity on the fine point at the top. His own arousal thickened, demanding attention. The elf slid from the man’s arms, turned and roughly pushed him to the bed. Lust flashed in his bright blue eyes. He joined their mouths in a possessive kiss as he used his deft hands to remove Estel’s apparel. All at once the man became still beneath Legolas. The elf felt the change. “Estel? What is wrong?” The pale eyes would not meet his. “Have you never done this before?” he asked “No,” he answered so softly only an elf could have heard. He looked extremely young all of a sudden. “Are you certain this is what you want?” The elf ran his knuckles over the other’s face, caressing his lower lip with his thumb. “I have never wanted anything more,” Estel said fiercely. “I will be gentle with you,” Legolas promised. The elf removed the man’s clothing quickly. Legolas was patient as the man fumbled to divest him of his tunic and leggings. The elf straddled the man’s hips. Their mouths locked once more in a zealous kiss as Legolas let his hands explore the body beneath him. His mouth trailed down Estel’s chest. He teased a hardened nipple with his tongue, eliciting murmurs of pleasure from the man. Estel’s hands slid over the silken skin of the elf’s back. He gasped as Legolas long fingers began to stroke the sensitive skin of his manhood. The elf grinned at this. Legolas lifted his head briefly and caught sight of a small glass bottle on the table beside the bed. He had noticed a wound on the man’s upper arm when he had first removed his tunic. “How did you hurt yourself?” The elf asked. “During swordplay. Elladan got in a lucky blow before I defeated him,” he answered, wondering why the elf was asking this now. “This is healing oil then?” Legolas asked as he took the small bottle into his hand. “Yes…” the man answered, still not understanding. “Good,” the elf replied, uncapping it. The man watched in interest as Legolas let some dribble onto his hands. His eyes were fixed on the movements of the elf’s hands as he intertwined his fingers over and over. His heart raced as Legolas coated his own organ in the sweet-smelling oil. “There will be some pain initially but you must trust me Estel,” the elf said comfortingly. All the man could do was nod. Legolas parted Estel’s thighs slowly. He took one long finger and pressed it against the entrance to the man’s body. The elf kept his intense blue eyes locked on Estel’s paler ones. He deliberately inserted the finger into the man’s incredibly tight opening. Estel tensed at the intrusion. Legolas bent and kissed him. He relaxed slightly. The elf delicately stretched the tight opening and added another finger. The probing, rhythmic movement brought the man to the edge of madness. When the elf thought Estel was prepared he removed his fingers leaving him achingly empty. Legolas gently rolled their bodies so that he lay behind the man on their sides. After several soft kisses to the back of Estel’s neck he pushed the tip of his organ inside the man. At this Estel went rigid with panic. “You must relax,” Legolas intoned, in elvish. He held himself in that position for countless minutes, waiting for his young lover to calm himself. All the while he used one hand to stroke the shaft of Estel’s arousal. Finally he felt the man’s entrance relax somewhat around his organ. The elf thrust himself deeper into the man. He withdrew a little and then drove himself further inside. This drew an intense moan of pleasure from Estel as Legolas made contact with his secret point. More feral groans came from the man as Legolas rhythmically made contact with the spot again and again until Estel’s seed surged between their bodies. Shortly thereafter Legolas roared as he spent himself deep within the young man. The elf had never felt such sublime bliss. Estel fell asleep within Legolas’ arms almost instantly once their lovemaking was done. The elf lay awake all night knowing he was in trouble. He was already in love with him. They remained lovers for the rest of the prince’s stay in Rivendell. With each passing day Legolas fell deeper in love with the young man. Estel had such warmth about him. His entire being abounded with dignity and grace. Without words the elf showed the man how he felt. There were moments when Legolas believed Estel returned his feelings. But there were also times when it seemed their tryst was nothing more than a passing fancy. When Legolas left they made no promises to ever see one another again. Legolas sighed heavily. His memories of Rivendell were the happiest ones of his long life. A few years later Legolas had been shocked and elated to receive a message from Estel telling him that he was coming to Mirkwood. It was not an official visit. The Estel who arrived in Mirkwood was not the same one Legolas remembered. His youthful vibrancy seemed gone. The young man was now sullen and forlorn. Legolas soon found out why. Elrond had revealed Estel’s identity to him. The man was angry and bitter about having the truth kept from him. He sought comfort in the elf’s arms, which Legolas was all too happy to give. When they made love it was as if they were back in Rivendell. But afterwards Estel had been brusque and cold. With no more than a quick farewell he had soon departed. Legolas never allowed himself to believe that Estel had meant to hurt him the way he did but he felt used nonetheless. The elf wiped away a stray tear. Rivendell was the last place he wanted to be. It had taken all these long years to reach the point where he did not weep at the mere thought of his lover. Legolas berated himself internally for being such a fool. This was a critical mission he was on and there was no time for this nonsense. He pushed all thought of Estel from his mind and set about his business. The council of Elrond had yet to convene. All waited for someone who was particularly important to the matter at hand to recover from injuries he had suffered. In the meantime, despite his attempts to do otherwise, Legolas had let his melancholy fester. The elf found himself walking late one evening when rest simply would not come. He stopped for a while under the tree where his eyes first fell upon the only person he had ever loved. Tears collected in his eyes. The elf’s heart stopped in his chest when his keen ears caught the sound of an achingly familiar voice. In actuality it was more the timbre rather than the voice itself he recognized for it sounded far older than the last time he heard it. Legolas’ feet took him swiftly in the direction of the sound. In the distance he saw them. A man and an elf standing on a bridge. He recognized the elf first. It was Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Lord Elrond. Legolas had met her once a long time ago. It took a second for his mind to understand who the man was. The voice was older. More resonant. As he watched in morbid fascination he realized who he looked at. Estel, his mind whispered, heart thudding. He could not help but listen to their words. “Renich i lú i erui govannem [Do you remember when we first met]?” Arwen asked. In a heartfelt manner that shattered Legolas’ heart Aragorn replied, “Nauthannen i ned ôl reniannen [I thought I had strayed into a dream].” “Gwenwin in enninath. Ú-'arnech in naeth i si celich. Renech i beth i pennen [Long years have passed. You did not wear the troubles you carry now. Do you remember what I told you]?” Arwen replied. “You said you'd bind yourself to me, forsaking the immortal life of your people.” “And to that I hold. I would rather share one lifetime with you, than face all the Ages of this world alone.” Legolas watched her as she gave his lover her Evenstar. “I choose a mortal life,” she stated. “You cannot give me this,” Aragorn said. For a fleeting moment Legolas believed Aragorn would return the necklace. “It is mine to give to whom I will. Like my heart,” she answered. Legolas felt as if a dagger was plunged into his heart as he watched them kiss. Angry tears spilled down his cheeks. All these long years, despite what evidence he had to the contrary and the fact that it seemed he would never see Aragorn again, he had hoped that one day he would be reunited with the one he loved and that that love would at long last be returned. Now he knew Aragorn would never be his again (and that he never was). Legolas stood watching their embrace, unable to look away. All of a sudden he was aware of someone standing close by. He turned to look and saw a man watching him. The elf got a good look at the interloper. He was tall with blond hair and dark green eyes. His frame was broad and well built. As soon as the man realized he had been seen by the elf he swiftly departed. Legolas felt anger rise within him that someone had dared spy on him in his private moment. Knowing he was guilty of the same, he took one last look at the lovers kissing on the bridge and then walked away. The Council of Elrond was finally underway. Legolas was having some difficulty keeping his mind centered on the matter at hand. It seemed to be his week for overhearing things he did not wish to. Earlier he had caught the end of a conversation between Elrond and Arwen about her betrothal to Aragorn. Legolas was dwelling on his own self-pity when Elrond introduced Frodo, a hobbit. And then their worst fears were realized as a golden ring was placed on the pedestal. A man called Boromir from Gondor rose and began raving about using the ring against Sauron. It was the very man he had seen spying on him the other night. This man called the tool of the enemy “a gift”. It was Aragorn who attempted to reason with the other man. “You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.” “And what would a Ranger know of this matter?” the man sneered. Legolas could not allow this disrespect. Even though he felt betrayed he could not stop himself from rising to his feet to defend Aragorn. “This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.” His eyes shone with a fierce protectiveness. “Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?” “And heir to the throne of Gondor,” Legolas told him. “Havo dad, Legolas [Sit down, Legolas],” Aragorn said calmingly. Legolas listened to his former lover and sat. He thought he heard a note of tenderness in the way Aragorn had spoken his name. He tried not to stare at Aragorn as the arguing continued. Boromir had begun speaking again. Legolas already felt dislike for this man. “One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air that you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly,” Boromir said. “Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!” Legolas spoke up against Boromir again. This set off another spate of arguing that continued until Frodo agreed to take the ring. As soon as Elrond had told them the ring must be destroyed Legolas had decided he would risk whatever it took to see that done. If there had been any hesitation on his part it had evaporated when Aragorn offered Frodo his sword. Legolas was instantly on his feet offering his bow. When all was said and done the Fellowship of the Ring was formed. To Legolas’ regret it included the fool of a dwarf called Gimli. He also questioned the prudence of allowing Boromir to join as well. But he decided to trust in the judgment of Gandalf and Lord Elrond, both of whom were far wiser than he. The elf returned to his horse to say farewell for he would not be bringing the beast along for the journey. For this Legolas was saddened as he was rather fond of him. He was stroking the horse’s neck when he heard light footsteps. “He is a fine horse,” the deep, warm voice said. The elven- prince felt shivers run up his spine. “He is my dear friend, I shall miss him,” Legolas replied and slowly turned. Aragorn seemed to appraise the elf, looking him up and down. “You look the same as you did the last time we met…” “You do not,” Legolas replied, maintaining a passionless tone. “I have gotten old since then,” the Ranger said good-naturedly. Legolas couldn’t help but smile. “It suits you.” “Old age?” Aragorn quipped. A small laugh came from the elf. “You have grown up Estel—Aragorn,” he corrected. “Yes. And realized the grave mistakes of the past and come to regret them deeply.” Legolas tried not to wince at the twinge of pain that being called a grave mistake elicited. “We all make mistakes in our youth that we live to regret…and some of us err when we are old enough to know better.” He added that last part softly. Aragorn closed the distance between them. “I owe you a long overdue apology my friend,” he said with feeling. “Aragorn—” The Ranger held up his hands to cut the elf’s words off. “Please Legolas. I have wanted to say these words to you for a very long time. I was cruel to use you as I did. I abused your feelings for me and for that I will be eternally sorry. I would understand if you did not wish to rekindle our friendship.” “You were very young and in great pain then Aragorn. I bear no grudges toward you,” Legolas found himself saying. His heart would always belong to this man and he could not turn down a chance to have him in his life in whatever capacity he could. The elf’s eyes fastened on the sight of the Aragorn’s large hand slowly moving toward his face. As the calloused fingers caressed his satiny skin Legolas felt heat pulse through his long lean body. “You are kind to forgive my transgressions so easily,” the Ranger said, his voice tinged with remorse and something else that Legolas did not trust himself to attempt to name. The hand was suddenly gone from the elf’s face and Aragorn took a half step back. “There is something you should know…” “If it is the news of your betrothal then I am already aware,” he said coolly. He intended to bury his emotions for the man deep inside him. With the journey ahead there was no time for Legolas’ heartsick love. “The news traveled as far as Mirkwood…” he said absentmindedly. Legolas did not correct him. “It is good that you have found someone you can love Aragorn. One truly begins to appreciate barrenness when they are alone for so long,” the elf stated dispassionately. Aragorn’s eyes seemed to mist over a little. He squeezed Legolas’ shoulder firmly. “I will never forgive myself for hurting you,” he said. He searched the elf’s cobalt eyes for some flicker of warmth. There was none. Aragorn withdrew his hand. “I am glad you are part of the Fellowship Legolas. You’re elven-composure will be of great help.” Legolas inclined his head. “Do you think it wise that the man called Boromir comes as well?” Before Aragorn could answer he became distracted by something in the distance. The Ranger’s head turned and Legolas followed suit. There stood Arwen. “Excuse me my friend, I must go say my goodbyes. I will see you when we depart,” he said. He did not await a response from the elf as he started in the other elf’s direction. Legolas repressed a sigh. This was how it would be between them. They were to be friends and nothing more. A disloyal tear slipped from his eye. The elf wiped it away furiously. As he did this he felt eyes on him again. He looked to see Boromir staring at him openly. Legolas felt disquieted for an instant as their eyes remained locked. Then the man retreated leaving the elf to say his goodbyes to his horse. The End Part 2: Underwater Underwater Delerium something fearless in your eyes something careless about your smile something fragile when you hold your breath and when you move you move right through me fingertips so gently on my skin I'm underwater I feel the flood begin fingertips so gently on my skin you're taking over and over again shed your armor spin your web hypnotize me with the longest stare make your promise or maybe it's a threat 'cos when you look you look right through me we're flesh and bone together and alone and we're looking for a home silver moonlight fills the sky calling gently to the evening tide you're unfolding right before my eyes and when you move you move right through me Time had slowed to an agonizing pace for the elf as the Fellowship held their course in the foothills of the Misty Mountains. As it turned out, it was nearly impossible for Legolas to be near Aragorn and not want more than friendship. But all the Ranger was able or willing to give was a friendly nod of the head or an indifferent pat on the shoulder. The first few days he thought he would go mad if he could not touch the man. But bit-by-bit he began to master his emotions. He could almost feel a chill move through him as he numbed himself to pain, happiness; and most of all, love. His pale, placid face became a blank, unreadable mask. They stopped to make camp and for the third straight time it was Legolas who volunteered to take first watch. Both times prior he had neglected to rouse one of the others to replace him. When Aragorn questioned him he merely stated that as an elf he did not require that much rest. Though the elf had grown eerily dispassionate Aragorn undoubtedly felt the tension that existed between them and chose not to press the matter further. Legolas stared at Caradhras in the distance and imagined he had become as cold and forbidding as the mountain. His thoughts were disturbed by the crunch of boots on the ground. Legolas turned to see Boromir approaching slowly. “I have this watch Boromir. You should take what rest you can,” the elf stated evenly. These were the first words since the council that Legolas had spoken to the man. Boromir had kept his distance from the elf thus far but Legolas had become aware of the Gondorian’s dark green eyes following him every now and then. “Do you not require rest?” he asked, quietly. He had stopped a few paces from Legolas. “I am an elf,” he said with a miniscule shrug of his slim shoulders. Boromir took another tentative step. “I know little of the ways of elves. Unlike our friend,” he said, motioning back toward where Aragorn slept with the others, “I was not raised among your kind.” There was softness to the man’s voice tonight that Legolas had not heard before. “We require little sleep,” Legolas said, watching the other carefully. He did not entirely trust the man. Boromir came very near Legolas and noticed his bow resting on the large rock beside the elf. “May I?” the Gondorian asked, indicating the weapon. Legolas hesitated. With the bow out of his reach he would have only his knives for defense. The larger man could most likely overpower him with brute strength. However, there was something in those green eyes that caused Legolas to tilt his head downward in an affirmative gesture. He watched as the other lifted the bow, examining it closely. “A finely crafted weapon,” he said at last, after running his strong, thick fingers over the wood with what looked like a lover’s touch. “Archery is a skill I never mastered. My strengths have always lain in hand-to-hand combat.” Boromir handed the weapon to Legolas who laid it back onto the rock. “I look forward to seeing you fight. I have never witnessed an elf in combat. In point of fact, you are the first elf I have known,” Boromir said. “Is that why you watch almost my every move? I am a novelty to you?” Legolas asked, lifting one eyebrow. Heat seemed to flood the man’s face. He averted his eyes. “I cannot help but watch you…” he whispered. “You must forgive my discourtesy.” “I do not think you discourteous. I am only curious as to why I fascinate you so.” Boromir met the elf’s intense blue eyes again. “You have been in my thoughts ever since the council,” he confessed. “I find I am unable to stop thinking about you.” The man closed the gap between them so he stood mere inches from the elf. “I find your beauty enthralling,” he said. He reached a trembling hand towards Legolas’ face. As his fingertips made contact with the ridiculously silky skin he drew in a sharp breath. Boromir’s caress was so feathery the elf almost didn’t feel it. “Boromir,” the elf began, voice breaking ever so slightly. “Ah,” he said, pulling his hand away as if he had been burned. “I am sorry. I should not have done that…” he retreated several steps. He lowered his head. When long moments of silence passed he raised it just enough to see what the elf was doing. He had not heard him move but Legolas had silently made his way to an outcrop in the foothills and sat on the grass. Boromir approached the seated elf. In the moonlight he could see silver tears that slid from the elf’s eyes. Boromir crouched in front of Legolas. “I have caused you great offense,” he said, worried that his touch had wrung tears from this lovely being. “Nay, it is not you,” Legolas said. No emotion colored his voice nor darkened his eyes. If not for the tears Boromir would not have know anything was wrong. Boromir lowered his body so that he sat beside the elf. He paused several beats. “He is not worth your tears,” the man stated with conviction. The elf looked at Boromir incredulously. “You saw me watching you in Rivendell twice. I watched you shed tears as Aragorn and his beloved embraced. I saw the hurt on your face when he spoke to you as you said farewell to your horse…” Boromir blushed hotly, feeling great shame for spying on the elf. “I recall,” Legolas stated. “But even had I not witnessed those events in Rivendell I would still have known. I see how you look at him. I feel the tension that hangs in the air between you.” Legolas frowned slightly. Was his icy façade such a poor disguise after all? Did everyone know how he shamefully pined for the Ranger? “It is that obvious?” “Nay. It is only that my eyes are ever-fixed upon you that I have observed this.” Boromir reached out and wiped several tears from Legolas’ cheeks with his thumb. Again the touch was incredibly soft. “A man who hides from his duty to his people is unworthy of one as beautiful as you,” he said. His voice held contempt for Aragorn and passion for Legolas. The elf opened his mouth to defend Aragorn but could not say the words. Boromir took the small parting of Legolas’ lips as an invitation. He let his fingers feel the elf’s silky golden hair for a moment before slipping his hand behind his neck. With gentle pressure the man urged Legolas’ head toward his. The elf felt Boromir’s lips brush his tenderly. He shut his eyes as the man sucked softly on his lower lip. Desire flowed through him. Years and years of unfulfilled passion threatened to burst inside him. Legolas wrapped his hands around the other’s neck and deepened the kiss. It was the elf who used his strength to pull Boromir back onto the ground so that the man’s body covered his. They continued the kiss, tongues winding around each other. Without warning Boromir broke the kiss and used his palms to push his upper body off of the slighter male. Legolas saw reverence in his green eyes. The man began fingering the herringbone braids at the elf’s temples. Boromir moved so that he sat over the elf’s slim hips, knees against the ground. He helped Legolas slide his tunic over his head and tossed it aside. When he lay flat again the man began stroking his warm velvety skin. Again Legolas was surprised by the gentleness of the man’s touch. He was so hesitant, almost as if he was afraid he might scare the elf off. When Boromir’s fingertips brushed against Legolas tight nipple the elf shuddered and laid his hand over the man's. “Do not be afraid of hurting me. I am stronger than I appear. I will not break,” he reassured the Gondorian. A shy smile crossed Boromir’s lips. “I am not afraid. It is only that I am in awe of your beauty.” “Do not be. I am flesh and blood, just as you are,” Legolas said, letting his hand sweep across the hardness that swelled beneath Boromir’s breeches. The touch seemed to shatter Boromir’s reluctance. He bent and claimed the elf’s mouth in an unrestrained kiss. He released his mouth and began trailing kisses along Legolas’ jaw line. He studied the finely pointed ear with interest. With his tongue he slowly traced a line along the curve of the elf’s ear, sucking lightly on the tip when he reached it. Legolas bucked beneath him, bringing their arousals into contact. Even through the layers of cloth Boromir could feel how hard with desire the elf was. Legolas lifted his upper body and used his deft fingers to begin removing the man’s tunic. He let his fingers dance over the muscled torso, coming to a brief halt at the top of Boromir’s breeches. He reached a hand inside and took hold of the shaft of flesh. Boromir moaned in pleasure as the elf stroked him. Legolas stopped finally and in a matter of heartbeats stripped the man of his breeches. Boromir then peeled the leggings from the elf’s body. His green eyes darkened with longing as he saw Legolas’ manhood exposed. He stroked the hard flesh, let his hand wrap around its length and squeezed lightly. His finger caught a pearl bead of liquid that seeped from the tip. He tasted it and moaned, feeling his own organ thicken. “Boromir…please…” came the elf’s urgent plea. He lifted his hips as much as he could, straining for contact. Boromir enveloped the elf’s arousal in his hand again, squeezing a little harder this time. Legolas whimpered. More of the elf’s essence leaked onto the man’s hand. Boromir released the elf’s organ and coated his fingers with the pearly substance. He lifted the elf’s hips and guided Legolas’ legs around his waist. The man kept his eyes fixed to the elf’s as he slid a finger over his entrance. Legolas’ eyelids fluttered and his breath hitched. Boromir inserted his broad finger unhurriedly, feeling the muscles constrict around him. The elf muttered something in elvish that the man did not understand but knew the meaning of just the same. He added another finger and continued gently probing the depths of the elf, hoping that they were not too dissimilar from men in how they achieved pleasure. Boromir allowed himself a small, satisfied grin when Legolas threw his head back and let out a melodious moan as his fingers made contact with the right spot. Another lilting elvish phrase fell from the elf’s silken lips. He heard his name among the foreign word but deciphered nothing else. He continued to sweetly torture the elf with his methodical movements. The elf snatched his wrist in his hand. Boromir saw desperate need in his cobalt eyes. “I must feel you Boromir,” Legolas panted, “now.” Boromir slowly removed his fingers. He came forward as the elf raised his hips. Boromir pushed the tip of his organ inside the elf’s entrance. He moaned at how tight and hot the elf was around him. He pushed deeper until he was completely within Legolas’ body. As he began to thrust in and out he felt the elf move in time with the rhythm he set. Legolas had been intimate with no one since Aragorn. Unlike the young Aragorn, Boromir was a tender and selfless lover. Pleasure rippled through the elf’s body as the man drove against his secret place. Boromir grasped the hard shaft of the elf’s manhood and brought the elf to climax as he struck the sensitive point within. The man thought he had never heard anything as wonderful as the sounds the elf made at this moment. Legolas’ clear gratification sent Boromir over the edge. With a final thrust his seed surged from his organ into the elf. At that moment Boromir spoke the elf’s name for the first time. “Legolas” came from his lips as if it were a sacred word. Then the Gondorian collapsed against Legolas, gasping for air. Legolas began stroking Boromir’s muscled back, feeling his sweat slicked skin. He did not realize how badly he had needed to be touched in this way. It had been far too long since he had felt desired. Boromir chose this moment to withdraw himself from the elf’s body. Legolas groaned a little at the loss. The man moved to one side and gathered the elf against him. Boromir pushed the long golden locks aside and began kissing the back of Legolas’ neck. “It was…pleasurable for you?” he asked in a most endearing way. “Was it not obvious?” Legolas replied rhetorically, enjoying the feel of the large, powerful arms that held him. When Boromir did not answer immediately Legolas turned his head to look into the man’s eyes. “Yes Boromir. It was wonderful.” He pressed their mouths together. They lay there like that for a long while in silence. Finally the elf spoke. “What kept you from your rest this night Boromir?” Legolas asked, turning to face the man. He wondered if it was not only desire for the elf that caused the man to seek him out. “Thoughts of my home plague my dreams,” he said softly, painfully. He had never spoken of the slow crumbling of Gondor to anyone. “My homeland is frequently in my dreams as well,” the elf told him. “You are a prince among your people, are you not?” Legolas nodded. “Then you perhaps you understand the burden of ruling…” “I am not my father’s heir. And I would imagine that governing men is a different task than governing elves.” “Because men are weak?” he snapped, instantly regretting it. “Because men are mortal. When life is so capricious it adds an urgency we elves simply cannot grasp.” Legolas watched as tears pooled in the other’s eyes. “The people of Gondor lose faith. And my father would have me set things right…and I do not know that I have strength to do this,” he confessed. The tears began to fall from his green eyes. Legolas drew Boromir into his arms, stroking his hair, running a hand in soothing circles over his broad back. “You will do what you can. It is all any of us can do,” Legolas said comfortingly. He felt the large man shudder against him as long held emotion began to pour out. Legolas let Boromir cry against him as he continued to caress his back tenderly. When his tears ran dry the man pulled back a little to look into the elf’s bright-blue eyes. “You must think me terribly weak,” he said, shamefaced. “Nay. You have permitted me a glimpse into your soul. To show another who you truly are and not hide behind falsehoods is strength, not weakness.” “Aragorn is a fool to love another over you,” Boromir said, caressing Legolas’ face. Legolas laughed sadly. “You have not met Arwen. She is both lovely and kind.” “I caught sight of her in Rivendell. And I do not need to meet her. I know you. All others pale in comparison to your perfection. If I had your love I would never look elsewhere. I would belong to you alone,” Boromir declared, with unshakable fervor. “You would never have cause to doubt where my heart lay.” Legolas reached up and placed his hand against the man’s chest. He felt the thudding of his heart. The elf was awestruck. He would never have believed this man capable of such tender words. “My heart has been unfilled for many moons,” Legolas whispered. “As was mine until I first saw you,” Boromir replied and kissed the elf’s mouth again. They lay entangled in each other’s arms for another lengthy period of silence. “Boromir?” the elf asked. “Mmmm?” was the sleepy answer. “You should return to camp. You require sleep and I must resume my watch I feel I have been negligent enough for one night,” Legolas said. Momentarily Boromir wondered if the elf had simply tired of being near him. But one look into Legolas’ eyes told him otherwise. Boromir reluctantly stood and began dressing, as did the elf. “Yet still you are not tired? Despite all we did?” The man asked. “I am not tired. I am invigorated. I feel alive as I have not felt in many years,” Legolas replied, kissing the man. The kiss held the promise of more nights like this. “Idh mae Boromir,” he said. When the Gondorian frowned Legolas translated, “sleep well.” The man nodded and left the elf to return to camp. As Boromir left and Legolas resumed his watch neither noticed a figure in the dark quickly retreating to camp as well. Aragorn returned before Boromir and laid down on his bedroll, fists balled up at his sides. He had gone to relieve Legolas of his watch and come upon them as they had began to remove their clothing. He was unable to pry his eyes off of the two as he watched Boromir make love to the elf. He felt sick with jealousy that Boromir was touching Legolas. He felt confused. He should not care what the elf did with his body. Legolas was nothing more to him now than a friend. And he was betrothed besides. But Legolas stirred something deep within Aragorn that he had not felt since first they met in Rivendell. He was forced to admit to himself that he did not want anyone else to have Legolas. Least of all Boromir. When the other man returned Aragorn listened until he heard the change in breathing as Boromir drifted into a peaceful sleep. Aragorn was unable to close his eyes at all that night. All he saw when he did was the image of Legolas and Boromir making love. After sunrise the Fellowship had their morning meal and set back on their course west of the Misty Mountains. Legolas walked several meters ahead of the group with Aragorn at the opposite end. Boromir walked ahead of the Ranger. After stewing all night and morning Aragorn finally increased his pace so that he now walked side by side with Boromir. “Sleep well Boromir?” He asked, almost snarling the words. “Yes. You?” He asked. His mood was so light he did not even notice Aragorn’s tone. “No,” he practically barked. This the other man did not miss. “I am sorry your sleep was troubled.” There was an extended silence as they trudged on side by side. Then Aragorn said, “You should be more discreet in your nighttime activities.” Boromir was startled but to his credit did not turn to look at the Ranger. “It is no concern of yours.” He finally turned his head and could see the jealousy burning in the other’s pale eyes. “Did you truly expect such a remarkable creature to pine for you forever? Did you think your touch so memorable that he would never permit another’s?” He knew these words would cut like jagged blades. When Aragorn remained silent Boromir continued. “ He waits for you no longer. Just as Gondor does not wait for you to be its king.” Boromir glanced over and was satisfied to see a wounded look on Aragorn’s face. “Listen to me son of Gondor,” Aragorn began with barely contained rage in his voice. “Legolas is my friend, whatever you may think. And if you harm him I will see you pay.” With that he slowed down and took his position at the rear once more. Legolas keen elven-hearing picked up their entire conversation from his position at the head of the Fellowship. He closed his eyes in annoyance. However, though the elf would not admit it to himself, he quite liked the idea that Aragorn was hurt and jealous. It was later that day when they stopped to make camp again that Legolas approached Aragorn who stood apart from the others. “Aragorn,” he began, “I would speak with you.” “Go ahead, say your peace,” the Ranger said, not meeting his eyes. “Perhaps it has been too long since you dwelled among elves if you believed I would not hear your conversation with Boromir from where I stood.” ‘Legolas—” The elf cut him off. “I am speaking. You test the bonds of our rekindled friendship Aragorn. Let me make one thing clear. I do not require you to be my champion. You of all people have no right to threaten another with violence if they should hurt me.” Anger flashed in the elf’s eyes. Aragorn could not deny how alluring it made Legolas. “I only worry about you my friend,” the Ranger said, attempting to placate the elf. “I thought you did not trust Boromir.” “It seems once again I have made poor assumptions about a man from Gondor based on first impressions,” Legolas said icily and moved to join Boromir where he sat with Merry and Pippin eating dinner. The End Part 3: Downfall Downfall Matchbox Twenty Wonder how you sleep I wonder what you think of me If I could go back Would you have ever been with me I want you to be unused I want you to remember I want you to believe in me I want you on my side Come on and lay it down I've always been with you Here and now Give all that's within you Be my savior And I'll be your downfall Here we go again Ashamed of being broken in We're getting off track I wanna get you back again I want you to trouble me I wanted you to linger I want you to agree with me I want so much so bad Come on and lay it down I've always been with you Here and now Give all that's within you Be my savior And I'll be your downfall Yeah, be my savior (Only love can save us now) (Don't lay me down) (Only love can save us now) I'll be your downfall (I'll be your downfall) (Ah, love can save us now) (Don't save me now) Lay it down I've always been with you Hear me now With all that's within you Be my savior And I'll be your downfall Now I'm back on my own Hear my feet, they're made of stone Man, I make you go where I go Well hell, you, can I take you home Well, I'm coming home on my back Kissing me, your lips painted black Saying Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh Let me be your downfall Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh Let me be your downfall, baby “Legolas! Into the cave!” Came Boromir’s desperate, urgent plea. He and Aragorn were sloshing around in the water outside Moria, hacking at the Watcher’s tentacles. Aragorn delivered the blow that released Frodo from its grasp and Boromir caught the hobbit as he fell. His first thought after knowing the ring bearer was safe was of his elven-lover. He yelled for Legolas to get to safety, away from this fearsome beast. The elf did not go immediately. He let one more arrow fly at the monster. It went zinging between the two men and into the Watcher. It did not escape his notice that had his aim been other than pinpoint accurate he could have easily killed either the man he now loved or the man that still held a large piece of his heart. Pushing such thoughts aside he then hurried into Moria with the rest of the company. The last thing Legolas saw was the creature crumbling the doors down, blocking all light. He instantly felt trapped. The air was foul and the dark was unsettling. It would be a four-day journey to the other side and Legolas wondered if the dreariness would drive him mad. He followed Gandalf and thought of the wizard’s words. “…There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world….” There was evil in this place that lived and breathed. The elf steeled himself against the dread that crept up his spine. He and the two men must bear the brunt of keeping the others safe from harm. ‘Let it be only Orcs,’ he prayed as they walked on in darkness. The Fellowship came to a stop as Gandalf pondered which way they should proceed. As the others took the chance to rest Legolas moved away from the group proper. Ostensibly he did this to keep watch while the others dropped their guards. But in truth the mines were disturbing him greatly. As much as he fought the anxiety it nonetheless had him in its grip. He heard soft footsteps and knew they could only belong to one of his comrades. He looked to see Aragorn standing in front of him, close enough to touch. The Ranger held out his water flask. Legolas took it and swallowed some of the clear, pure water. “From Rivendell?” Legolas asked, surprised. Aragorn nodded once. “I took a small supply with me. I have seen you take no sustenance or water since we entered here,” he said thoughtfully. “This place unsettles me greatly…” Legolas admitted softly. “I understand,” the man replied, touching the elf’s shoulder gently. He watched the blonde swallow more water. He longed to touch his former lover, to run his fingers along the length of his long throat, to devour his mouth, to taste the sweetness that was Legolas. Inwardly Aragorn chastised himself for thinking such thoughts. The elf took great comfort from the simple touch. He felt as though Aragorn did understand. He knew how it was with elves. Being shut up inside these mines was akin to being buried alive for an elf. He then felt a small stab of guilt. He knew he should turn to Boromir with his troubles. He already loved the other Gondorian. But Legolas could not. Boromir did not know much about elves and he did not know if he would truly appreciate how despondent Legolas was feeling. Even though they had bared their souls to one another the elf did not wish for Boromir to think him weak. Legolas reached up and covered the hand on his shoulder with his own and squeezed softly. “Hannon le [thank you],” Legolas whispered. Aragorn inclined his head. Feeling Legolas’ warm hand on his own sent a lustful frisson through the Ranger’s body. He remembered well how skilled the archer’s hands were. After a few seconds the contact was broken by the elf so Aragorn withdrew his hand. Legolas held the flask out and Aragorn took it back, taking a small sip before recapping it. Their eyes were locked together for a long moment before they heard Gandalf decide which passage to take. Without further words the lf and the man rejoined the group and continued on. Boromir witnessed the tender scene between the former lovers. He had been watching the elf intently since they had entered Moria. Legolas had seemed to draw in on himself and this caused the Gondorian to worry for the beautiful creature. As melancholy seemed to envelop Legolas he had not turned to Boromir for comfort but rather to the Ranger. He espied them exchanging quiet words and itched to know of what they spoke. He burned when Aragorn placed a comforting hand on the elf’s slim shoulder. He could not stop himself from imagining how Aragorn must have touched the elf when they were lovers. It was madness to be jealous of a relationship that was long since over and yet his blood boiled nonetheless. While it was to be expected that a being as lovely and alluring as Legolas had other lovers, Boromir could not stand the thought that Aragorn had known the archer intimately. Deep down, though he would never admit to it, Boromir felt inferior to the Ranger. Wasn’t Boromir just the pretender to the throne that by rights belonged to Aragorn? Perhaps in a similar way he was merely the Steward of Legolas’ heart. Boromir wondered if it was only his duty to care for and love the elf until Aragorn saw fit to reclaim what was his. The Fellowship reached Balin’s tomb. Boromir was looking at the crypt, standing several meters to the elf’s right. As Gandalf began to read from the tome the Gondorian again saw how close Legolas drew to Aragorn. Jealousy flared within him. The elf’s words were only a warning that they should not linger in this place but still he felt rage toward Aragorn. Something about the Ranger seemed to pull Legolas to him and away from Boromir. He pushed these thoughts aside as he saw how Gimli knelt over the vault. He placed a comforting hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. The wizard continued reading aloud. “We cannot get out. A Shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out.” He paused. Boromir glanced back at his lover. The elf’s bright blue eyes looked like those of a caged animal. “They are coming,” Gandalf finished. It was far too quiet for Legolas’ liking. The tension was tangible. When Pippin knocked the skeleton down the well everyone froze. When more quiet followed, the group breathed a small sigh of relief. Gandalf scolded Pippin for his stupidity. Then suddenly Legolas keen hearing caught the sound of drumbeat in the distance. Soon all heard the fateful sound. Boromir glanced around apprehensively as did Aragorn. The elf then confirmed what they all thought. “Orcs!” Boromir ran to the door to see what came and as he arrived two arrows narrowly missed his head. Legolas felt his heart constrict, having seen this. Aragorn arrived at the door and Legolas began tossing long axes for the men to use to secure the entrance. When all was said and done they had barely escaped that fight with their lives. Boromir himself would not still be drawing breath if Aragorn had not saved his life. He had found himself caught on the cave troll’s chain and had been sent crashing against the wall. He was dazed for a moment, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. The next thing Boromir had seen was an orc brandishing a blade over him. Aragorn hurled a sword from several meters into the orc’s throat. They had exchanged looks at that moment and Aragorn had simply nodded in acknowledgment. “To the bridge of Khazad-dûm!” The wizard’s cry sent the Fellowship racing from Balin’s tomb. The company ran from one narrow escape into a situation there seemed to be no hope of surviving. They had fled the tomb and then been beset by Orcs in the long corridor down which they ran. They stood unmoving, weapons drawn. All at once silence fell upon the cavernous passageway. In the distance Legolas saw a fiery glow light the walls of Moria. Abruptly, the Orcs scattered. Despite this, the elf kept his bow aimed at the emptiness. Boromir spoke from his position at Legolas side. “What is this new devilry?” He quickly glanced at his lover and saw fear etched into the elf’s lovely features. Legolas looked as though he knew that answer to his question but could not speak. He saw that the elf drew in rapid breaths. What unseen evil could cause Orcs to flee in fear and frighten an elf thusly? Boromir then glanced at Aragorn who looked as confused as he felt. It was Gandalf that named the evil. “A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world,” the wizard began. In all his long years Legolas had never felt true fear until this very moment. He felt paralyzed by it and hopeless against it. “This foe is beyond any of you. Run!” They ran with Gandalf in the lead, followed by Boromir. Gandalf paused at an entranceway, ushering the others ahead and looking back at the demon. Boromir ran through what was clearly the wrong way as he came to steps that stopped dead over a chasm. He lost his balance and dropped his torch. He was about to fall to his death when he felt strong arms surround him from behind. He was pulled backwards and fell hard on top of the elf. “I have you,” came Legolas’ thankful whisper into the man’s ear. “Thank you,” Boromir whispered back as he got to his feet. He offered the elf his hand. Legolas took it and Boromir helped him to his feet. There was no time for anything else as the two hurried along with the rest of the Fellowship to the bridge of Khazad-dûm. This would be their last narrow escape from death. By the time the company reached the fresh air outside Moria one of their number was lost. Sam sat on a rock, head in his hand, awash in sadness. Boromir held a shouting Gimli as the dwarf tried to rush back into the mines as if he could still save their fallen friend. Merry was seated on the ground, consoling a sobbing Pippin who lay across his lap. Aragorn looked over the scene. His eyes settled on Legolas. He wore a look of disbelief and terrible sorrow. The Ranger’s heart ached for him. He knew his next words would sound coldhearted but he also knew they must move on. He wiped his blade with one stroke and then said, “Legolas, get them up.” He did not know why it was the elf he started with. Boromir’s hand was upon Gimli’s shoulder as he continued to console the anguished dwarf. He glanced at Legolas who looked incredibly vulnerable. The elf moved toward a hobbit. “Give them a moment for pity’s sake!” He meant the hobbits mostly. But also he meant Legolas. He desperately wanted to take the grieving elf into his arms and take the hurt away. “By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlórien,” Aragorn offered by way of explanation. “Come Boromir. Legolas, Gimli, get them up,” Boromir looked straight into the Ranger’s eyes. He could not believe how detached the other man seemed. Yes, he understood the need for haste but he could not understand how a man could be so unemotional after losing someone who meant so much to them all. But their new leader had spoken so Boromir grudgingly obeyed, and soon the remaining members of the Fellowship were on route to the Golden Woods. It cheered Legolas’ heart greatly when they had reached the safety of Lothlórien. Already he felt he had been parted from his kind for too long. More than the darkness of Moria, which was almost physically painful for one used to living among the trees and in the sunlight, he had hated the silence. It seemed death, or what he perceived death to be, hung in the atmosphere. To the elf, death was an all-consuming void. The utter quiet of Moria combined with the rank air had brought a heavy depression down on him that only now that he was within the Golden Woods began to lift. Galadriel’s gentle words were a balm for his weary mind. Later, when they could find a private moment Legolas intended to take Boromir into his arms and attend to the needs of his heart and body as well. They had settled into the place where they would rest while within the border’s of Lothlórien. Boromir had moved away from the group. Galadriel’s words echoed in the man’s head. She had pierced Boromir’s soul with her mind and stirred his deepest fears. “Tonight, you will sleep in peace...” he heard her intone. But there would be no rest for Boromir this night. He peered over at Legolas. The elf looked ethereal in the garb he wore in this lovely place. Though he longed to go to his lover, hold him, and speak his troubled thoughts he felt he could not. Legolas seemed like something untouchable. Boromir feared to lay a hand on such perfection lest he ruin it. Boromir also thought of how when Legolas had seemed distressed in Moria he had not turned to him but to Aragorn for comfort. That fact still twisted like a knife in his gut. No, the Gondorian would not confide in the elf now. Lost in his despair and anger he did not notice Aragorn until he was mere feet from him. “Take some rest,” Aragorn began, “these borders are well protected.” Boromir looked greatly troubled and Aragorn was not without compassion. He was also curious as to why the lovers did not take the first chance they had to slink off together. Certainly that is what he would have done if he were Legolas’ lover. Bury himself in the elf; breathe deep his sweet scent. Feel the heat inside Legolas as he came inside his tight body. Aragorn cut the thought pattern off there. Why was he pining for the blonde? Why did jealousy eat at him? He should be content with Arwen and yet…all his thoughts were centered on the flaxen-haired elf. Boromir had begun to speak. “I will find no rest here. I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me, ‘Even now there is hope left.’ But I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope.” The words came unbidden from his lips. Why did he speak of this with Aragorn? He looked up to see where the elf had gone. He was out of sight. “Why do you not go to Legolas? Finish what you started within Moria?” he suddenly bit out. Aragorn frowned. “And what is that Boromir?” “Do you think I did not see how you and he behaved? The intimate caresses? The whispered words?” “You misunderstood,” Aragorn said, not sure why he wanted to explain. He should let Boromir be envious of what he and Legolas had. Let it gnaw at him the way having seen the other man touching Legolas ate him up inside. “I saw that Legolas was troubled by the mines. It is difficult for elves to be in such dark, unclean places. It is almost beyond the elven sense of pride to seek help from others so I took the initiative. I sought to comfort my friend, that is all.” Aragorn sat beside Boromir. “Do not lie Aragorn. Comfort was not your only aim. You seek to come between us. I see how you look at him with lust. Now that he has given himself to someone else it has reminded you of how badly you still want him. Do not tell me you would not take the opportunity to have him back in your bed. You would do anything to have him again.” “Nay Boromir. If that was true I could have let you die inside Moria. Legolas has already rebuked me for my…interference and since I would not lose his friendship I will not meddle in this matter. But if you doubt my sincerity let me assure you you have no call to doubt his. In all my life I have known no truer soul than Legolas Greenleaf.” To Aragorn it sounded as though he was giving the two his blessing, but that was not it at all. His jealousy swirled like a storm within. But he could not allow anyone to doubt Legolas’ honor. That he would not tolerate. Boromir nodded slightly. There was a lengthy pause. “Galadriel spoke to you of Gondor?” Aragorn asked, finally breaking the silence. “My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing. And then our... our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right, and I--I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored. Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The white tower of Ecthelion. Glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver. Its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?” “I have seen the White City. Long ago,” the Ranger replied. “One day, our paths will lead us there. And the tower guard shall take up the call: ‘The Lords of Gondor have returned’,” there was the barest hint of madness in his voice. Aragorn had no response to this. Suddenly all of Boromir’s thoughts turned to the elf. “You will excuse me Aragorn…I must…” he did not finish. The other man knew what it was he must do. Aragorn simply watched as Boromir took off on the path that Legolas had taken. Legolas found a secluded glade where he could be in peace. He heard the sounds of the woods and the hum of the lament the Lorien elves sung. His mind dwelled on Moria. What kept Legolas sane there was the most unlikely thing. Aragorn. Despite the tension between them over Boromir the Ranger had been there to give the elf a reassuring word when he had most needed it. He was more thankful than Aragorn knew that he had been there for him when he most needed him. His thoughts of the Ranger where interrupted by footsteps approaching from behind. Legolas turned to see Boromir. “You grieve for Gandalf.” Boromir asked, noting the sadness in the blue eyes. “I am unaccustomed to death. It is foreign to my kind” “I still have much to learn about elves,” Boromir stated icily. Legolas only nodded absentmindedly at the remark. He did not know what else to say. He seemed to lack the words to properly articulate the grief he felt. “I find it difficult to talk about…” he said at last. “Perhaps it is merely that you prefer the Ranger’s company over mine? Would you find it easier to speak to one who understands your kind more than I?” Boromir barely controlled the rage in his voice. He did not know where this anger had come from. He had believed Aragorn’s words and yet… Legolas looked at the Gondorian, puzzled by the animosity that radiated off the large man. “Why do you speak to me in such a manner?” “How would you have me speak to you? I do not possess your skill for deception,” he seethed, his voice a harsh whisper. “In no way have I been deceitful,” Legolas said. “No? You were greatly troubled when we were in the mines. Yet you did not come to me for comfort. You turned to Aragorn.” “Nay. He came to me and offered comforting words. It was painful for me to be shut up inside of Moria. Aragorn understood this because of his time living amongst the elves. And I was ashamed of my fear. I did not wish you to think me weak…” Boromir’s anger dissipated when he saw tears had pooled in Legolas’ eyes. He came close to the elf, wiped the tears away. “Did you not tell me that revealing your true feelings to another is strength, not weakness?” “Forgive me Boromir. I should have turned to you for solace,” Legolas said, wrapping his arms around the man and embracing him tightly. Boromir returned the embrace, running his hands over the elf’s back. “Perhaps I can still provide some to you…” “I would like to lose myself inside you Boromir,” the archer whispered into the man’s ear huskily. Boromir’s heart began to thud. He had rarely trusted a man enough to surrender in that way to him. And those times he had it had not been pleasant. Nevertheless, there was something about Legolas that made Boromir want to give him anything he desired. Also, he wished to know what it would feel like to have Legolas sheathed within his body. He looked into the elf’s cobalt eyes. They were aflame with passion. “I am yours Legolas. Do with me as you please,” he breathed, trying to hide the twinge he felt nervousness. At these words of encouragement Legolas joined their mouths in a fiery kiss. With their lips locked together he pulled the larger male with him toward a tree. He broke the kiss and began at once to disrobe the Gondorian. Once he had done this Legolas threw off his own attire and pressed their bodies together once more. The contact of skin on skin sent waves of desire through Boromir’s large frame. His organ hardened further as it came into alignment with the elf’s. What Legolas wanted to do to him had been pushed aside as he became lost in sensation. He let his hands roam all the way down Legolas spine. He caressed the swell of the other’s buttocks. Legolas moaned sweetly at this. Their tongues played against one another as the elf pulled the man down onto the velvety grass. They remained on their knees kissing. Legolas stroked the Gondorian’s back and felt his lover’s strong hands sink into his long hair. Finally Legolas pushed Boromir onto his back and straddled his hips. He began placing teasing kisses along the man’s chest, sucking lightly on a nipple. Soft moans came from Boromir’s lips as Legolas moved south, kissing the skin below his navel, coming tantalizingly close to hard shaft of flesh that wept for the elf’s touch. Legolas did not fail to notice the man’s aching arousal and ran a finger along its length mischievously. Boromir’s body arched at the contact. A wicked little smirk crossed Legolas’ lips. The elf then lowered his head and let his tongue dance along Boromir’s organ, swirling over the tip in lazy circles. He tasted the musky essence of the man and it sent shivers through his body causing his own arousal to thicken. Legolas then clamped his lips around the straining shaft of flesh, taking the full length into his mouth. Boromir could not stop himself from raising his hips, seeking more of the hot, delicious sensations Legolas mouth was creating. Legolas did not mind the untamed response his actions were having on the man and began sucking all the harder, urging Boromir’s release. It finally came with a howl as the man’s seed surged from his organ. Legolas swallowed, taking pleasure in Boromir’s unique taste. The elf smiled, looking down on the man. Boromir stared into Legolas’ beautiful eyes and saw desire for him burn there. He yearned to have the elf inside of him, to belong to this otherworldly creature. He laid his hand over the elf’s rigid manhood. “Are you done with me already Legolas?” His hand teased the hard flesh of the elf. “Do you not wish to claim my body for your own?” A wild gleam entered the blonde’s eyes and his face darkened with unrestrained lust. He then parted the man’s thighs. He spread them wide and Boromir laced one leg behind Legolas’ back. The elf then sought the entrance to his body with his organ. He pushed his arousal against the opening. The elf could feel how unyielding the large man’s body was. Legolas took a deep breath and slowed himself. Though his desire burned brightly and demanded to be slaked he would not risk any harm to his lover. With great effort he pulled the tip of his organ back. ‘Ah,” Boromir protested softly. “Do not stop.” “I will not hurt you to sate my own desire.” “It does not matter. I am prepared for the pain,” he said. Legolas looked into the other’s dark green eyes. “There should be mostly pleasure and very little pain. I feel only pleasure when you are within me Boromir and I would have it be the same for you,” Legolas said intently. The elf looked at his lover. The man looked so vulnerable. Suddenly, Legolas was consumed with the idea that Boromir might fall to ruin if Legolas did not watch over him. He pushed the feeling of foreboding aside. “Have others not been as gentle with you as you have been with me?” the elf asked. Boromir did not answer but he did not need to. Legolas could see the response on his handsome face. Legolas kissed his mouth gently. Boromir slid his hands over the elf’s back, feeling the satiny skin. The archer gathered some of his own essence and coated his fingers with the liquid. He then pressed one long finger against the man’s entrance and began to coax Boromir open. He carefully stretched the ring of flesh until he gained entry. Legolas could feel the other’s tension ebb as he inserted another digit and continued his ministrations. When he thought he had prepared the man, he withdrew his fingers and again pressed his organ against the entrance. He thrust slowly until the tip was inside the man. A soft moan broke from Boromir’s lips. He felt the elf slide his organ deeper inside him. The feeling of being filled with Legolas was so heavenly that any pain was unnoticeable. His own organ was hard once more with feverish arousal. The man raised his hips to push the elf deeper. Legolas rocked within the Gondorian at a steady pace until he found the source of the man’s pleasure. When the elf hit that spot, a moan of pure bliss erupted from Boromir. Legolas continued to strike the spot with each consecutive thrust until Boromir climaxed with an earth-shattering scream. He felt Boromir’s seed gush against his stomach and continued his rhythm until he found his own release as his essence surged deep inside Boromir. The elf and the man lay like that for a long time, not speaking. Even after Legolas withdrew his softened manhood from Boromir they almost immediately wrapped their bodies around one another and lay there entangled all night long. They held each other so tightly, neither one willing to let the other go. Perhaps somehow they both knew that this was the very last time they would be in each other’s arms. The End Title: Mortal Love: Part 4/7 Author: Jen Lynn E-mail: jmo75200@yahoo.com or 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, Legolas/Boromir Summary: Boromir continues to be corrupted by the ring. Aragorn and Boromir argue over the strength of men. Legolas is caught in the middle. Warning: CHARACTER DEATH Archive: LXF, Lirimaer yes. Others please ask. Rating: NC17 Note: I used The Council Of Elrond for the elvish translations. I found the translation of "I love you" [Le annon veleth nín (literally: To you I give my love] in the Elvish 101 Forum. It was posted by Naneth. Under useful phrases I found "I do not understand" (ú-chenion) and "my love" (meleth nîn). I had to attempt to translate "I desire you" myself. So I came up with "Le aníron". Aníron is literally "I desire" and "le" is thee. Several lines of dialogue are taken from the film. The scene where Aragorn and Boromir argue about the strength of men occurs in the Special Edition DVD. Thanks to Jean for beta-ing this for me! Feedback is greatly appreciated. Mortal Love Part 4: How Soon Is Now How Soon Is Now The Smiths I am the son and the heir of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and heir of nothing in particular You shut your mouth how can you say I go about things the wrong way I am human and I need to be loved just like everybody else does I am the son and the heir of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and the heir of nothing in particular You shut your mouth how can you say I go about things the wrong way I am human and I need to be loved just like everybody else does There's a club if you'd like to go you could meet somebody who really loves you so you go, and you stand on your own and you leave on your own and you go home, and you cry and you want to die When you say it's gonna happen "now" well, when exactly do you mean? See I've already waited too long and all my hope is gone You shut your mouth how can you say I go about things the wrong way I am human and I need to be loved just like everybody else does Their first day in Lothlórien was Boromir and Legolas' last time of harmony. The man slept safe in the elf's arms, knowing for the first time in his life what it felt like to be good enough for someone or something. To be worthy of this elf's love was a miracle in Boromir's mind. Legolas held nothing back from the Gondorian. He gave his love, his warmth, and his soul freely. It caused Boromir to hang on to Legolas tighter still. The vise-like grip was almost painfully tight but Legolas did not complain. He felt loved and needed as he had never felt in Aragorn's arms. Too much time among the Elves had caused Aragorn to bottle his emotions up. In another elf that might have been what Legolas wanted. But there had to be a reason his heart tended toward mortal men. What he saw in Boromir was an ever-present passion for life. Every emotion Boromir felt was on the surface and Legolas never once had to wonder what his true feelings for him were. Legolas recalled the words the man spoke to him after first they made love. "If I had your love I would never look elsewhere. I would belong to you alone," Boromir had declared, with such devotion it had thawed the elf's heart, which the Ranger had left cold. "You would never have cause to doubt where my heart lay." Legolas laid his head against Boromir's chest, feeling his body hair against his smooth cheek. He did not slip into elven-reverie. Instead he listened all night to the steady, strong beat of his lover's heart. A tear slipped down his cheek as he thought of how someday Boromir's heart would beat no more. By the elven way of reckoning he would not have much time with this man. It might be less than a half-century and what is 50 years to an immortal? But Legolas swore to himself he would cherish every minute the Valar granted them. This silent oath would come be broken however, to Legolas' lasting dismay. At the first rays of sunlight Boromir woke, still clutching the elf to him. "Is it morning already?" he asked, squinting up at the golden light that filtered through the trees. "It is," Legolas answered, pressing his lips to Boromir's. The kiss began sweetly but soon Boromir had Legolas on his back, devouring his mouth. He sunk his fingers into the elf's silky blond hair, mussing the braids. The archer let his hands wander over the Gondorian's back, feeling the muscles work beneath his warm skin. One hand came up and grabbed hold of the man's dark blond hair. Boromir shifted so he had his knees on either side of the elf's hips. He ground his pelvis down, causing their organs to rub together. At this contact Legolas felt his manhood harden further. He pushed his hips up, wanting more of that wonderful friction. Boromir chuckled throatily at the elf's eagerness. He ceased his movements, which resulted in a small protesting whimper from his lover. The man began stroking the engorged shaft of flesh with his fingertips. Between their never-ending kisses, a flurry of little moans escaped Legolas' lips. One of Legolas' hands came around Boromir's arousal and pumped slowly. "You are a wicked elf," he managed, parting their mouths finally, gasping in air. Legolas smirked in a self-satisfied way. The teasing fingers left his organ. Boromir then snatched hold of both the elf's wrists and pinned his arms above his head. He was too close to climax to allow the elf to continue touching his manhood like that. He had better plans than to come inside Legolas' hand. Legolas struggled a little beneath the firm grip. "Ah, so you finally learn I do not need to be handled so delicately..." the elf goaded. Boromir's green eyes darkened with passion. He claimed the elf's mouth in another feverish kiss. Breaking the kiss, he slid his tongue against Legolas face, lowering his body. He drove his hips down again and Legolas bucked beneath him. He ran his tongue up the curve of the elf's ear, sucking lightly on the fine point. Legolas drove his hips up again, forcing harder contact. Rapidly the man released the elf's wrist and turned the lithe being onto his stomach. Boromir straddled him again, letting his dripping organ press against the elf's backside. Legolas squirmed, pushing his body off the ground, trying to force the man inside. Boromir pushed the elf back down. The archer felt lips against the back of his neck, kissing a path south. The man's tongue followed, licking a wet streak to the base of the elf's spine. The Gondorian stopped at the curve of his buttocks and wet his finger. Boromir delved into the elf's cleft and pushed slowly into his tight entrance. Legolas sighed softly. The man drove his finger in and out, brushing Legolas' pleasure point each time. This always produced lilting elvish phrases to pour from the archer's mouth. "Someday you must teach me elvish so I may know what sweet things you moan whilst we make love," Boromir purred into the elf's ear. He did not wait for a reply. He added another finger and continued to drive the elf to the brink of ecstasy. "Please Boromir...no more..." Legolas rasped, aching to be filled by the Gondorian. "I should stop?" he teased, licking the curve of the ear he had neglected before. "Nay. Never stop...please I must have you..." he broke into elvish again. Boromir grinned. He was pleased he could have the elf so delirious with need for him. His own need was just as urgent so Boromir finally bore down on Legolas and plunged himself deep inside the elf. A loud, wild moan came from the elf as Boromir pressed against that spot again with this initial thrust. The man began a pounding, unrelenting rhythm. Legolas forced his body upward and rocked along with the pace. The melodious moans flowed continually from his lips, reaching a thunderous crescendo each time his lover hit his intimate place. Boromir's hand reached around, seizing hold of Legolas' organ. He pumped in time with the rhythm of their bodies until Legolas' essence gushed from him. He called out Boromir's name as he climaxed. Boromir kept driving into the elf, still eliciting soft murmurs of approval despite the elf's release. At last the man's seed surged into Legolas' body as Boromir whispered, "I love you." They lay there like that for a few moments. When Boromir rolled off the elf Legolas turned to face him. He caressed the man's bearded face. "We should rejoin the others. No doubt we are missed," Legolas said, regretfully. "And what if I say that I do not care?" Boromir asked, seriously. Legolas laughed lightly. "Come Boromir. There is a stream nearby." "And if I prefer to wear your scent on my skin rather than wash it off?" Another wave of musical laughter came from the elf. He rose to his feet, gathered his garments in one arm and held out his free hand. "Come Boromir," he said, with mock sternness. Boromir took the hand and let the elf help him to his feet. "I yield to your superior wisdom elf," he said, grinning. He picked up his apparel. They walked in silence toward the water. When within the cool stream they bathed quickly. Boromir gathered a bit of pebbly sand and gently scrubbed the elf's back for him. Legolas closed his eyes. He enjoyed the tenderness of the man's touch. "Le anon veleth nín," he said softly. "What did you say Legolas?" Boromir wanted to know. "That is your first lesson in elvish. Le annon veleth nín Boromir." "What does it mean? Scrub lower?" he joked. "It means 'I love you'," he said intently. Boromir ceased his washing of the elf's back and moved to face him. He took Legolas' head in his hands and kissed him fervently. "Le annon veleth nín Legolas," he pronounced almost correctly. A smile crossed the archer's lips and he joined their mouths again. Their tongues danced against one another for a long while. Then the elf heard voices in the distance. He turned his head. "We will have company shortly," he remarked. "Who comes?" Boromir asked. "Merry and Pippin," he replied. "I guess our bath is over." "It would appear so," Legolas said. They shared one more kiss and then left the water, dressed and headed back to where the others were. The time the Fellowship spent in the Golden Woods flitted by all to quickly. Time seemed to pass at an accelerated rate and it was easy for Legolas and Boromir to allow themselves to be distracted from each other. Legolas reveled in the chance to spend time with his kind. An easy repartee existed between him and Haldir. They had been friends for a long time. The two Elves fell into lengthy conversations about times long since past. Legolas even confided in the other elf about his love for Boromir. Haldir had asked why he felt the need to give his heart to mortals and risk heartbreak. First he had allowed Estel to hurt him and now this other man? This argument had almost ended the conviviality between them. But for the first time Legolas could remember (maybe for the first time ever) Haldir had apologized and they had gone on with their reminiscing. For his part Boromir spent much of his time schooling Merry and Pippin in the ways of sword fighting. When not doing this he sometimes sat alone. This was dangerous as his thoughts usually strayed to the One Ring. It called to him, whispering that it would be so easy to take the ring from Frodo, use it to defeat the enemy, to help the people of Gondor. The fixation with the ring was deepening and the only thing that stopped those dangerous thoughts was filling his mind with images of Legolas. He would have gone to the elf and confided these dark thoughts to him but he was too ashamed. Legolas had seen his weakness to the ring at the council. He feared the elf's rejection if he found out how much the ring lured him, even now. Unbeknownst to Boromir the reason he did not turn to Legolas was more sinister than fear of losing him. The ring whispered to him that he could trust no one other than himself. Not Elves. Not dwarves. Not hobbits. And certainly, not other men. The morning arrived that the group was to depart Lothlórien. "Where is Boromir?" Aragorn asked the elf, coming close to him. "I do not know," Legolas replied simply. "We should not keep Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel waiting," the man said, annoyance coloring his tone. "I will retrieve him," Legolas said, walking into the woods. "Do not tarry any longer than necessary Legolas," Aragorn called. Legolas turned, appraised Aragorn coolly. "I will find Boromir and return posthaste." He said evenly as he turned and walked away. It did not take the elf long to locate his lover. He fond the Gondorian seated beneath a tree, eyes closed. "Boromir?" The dark green eyes snapped open. "Legolas..." he seemed mildly confused. Legolas crouched down in front of Boromir. "We leave now. We are to attend a ceremony with the Lord and Lady," he said gently, touching Boromir's cheek. The man took hold of the hand against his face and brought it to his lips. "We leave so soon? We hardly saw one another at all here..." "I know. I am sorry. I spent too much time conversing with old friends..." "And I wasted too much time in a vain effort to teach Merry and Pippin to fight...although their skills have improved..." "Are you all right Boromir? You seem distracted by something," Legolas asked, concerned. "Only by your beauty," he said, rising to his feet. Legolas stood upright as well. "'Tis a pity we squandered our time here..." "We will have more time together Boromir." "Ah, this quest becomes more perilous with every day Legolas. I do not believe we will find another peaceful place to dally..." "The quest will end one day Boromir. The ring will be destroyed. Sauron will be defeated and Middle-Earth will be free. Your city will be free," he took Boromir's face between his hands. He locked his cobalt eyes on Boromir's emerald ones. "And you will show it to me. In all its restored glory." The Gondorian's eyes misted over. "You speak with such hope..." "You should be hopeful as well Boromir. You are a good man. There is still time for good men to do good deeds," he said with conviction. "When you say that I believe you Legolas," Boromir said. The elf kissed the man ardently. "We must go now," he said. Boromir nodded once and followed the elf. They walked in silence, not knowing that in the space of the next few days, their time together would be cut short. If they had known, they would have clung to each other and savored every moment. The Fellowship departed Lothlórien with their gifts from the Elves and headed down The Anduin. They stopped once the sun had set and travel became too dangerous; making camp on the banks of the Great River. Boromir's mind was still haunted by the temptation of the ring. He was shaken from these thoughts when he heard something in the river. Gimli slept, Legolas kept watch over the hobbits and Aragorn was scouting around so he went alone to check out the noise. He got behind an outcropping. Warily he watched a log in the dark water and saw some movement. He heard someone approach from behind. "Gollum," Aragorn said with resignation. "He's tracked us since Moria. I had hoped we would lose him on the river. But he's too clever a waterman." Aragorn moved slowly back, away from Boromir "And if he alerts the enemy to our whereabouts...it will make the crossing even more dangerous," the other man added. This path Aragorn had chosen was far too treacherous and Boromir needed to let the Ranger know. "Minas Tirith is the safer road. You know that. From there we can regroup," he began. Boromir took a few slow, measured steps, closing the distance between them. Aragorn looked down, thoughtfully, considering the words. "Strike out from Mordor from a place of strength," Boromir continued, pleading with Aragorn to see the reason behind his statement. There was contained passion in his tone ofvoice. Aragorn met Boromir's eyes, and in a level voice said: "There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us." The Ranger took a half step closer Anger seeped into Boromir's voice. "You were quick enough to trust the Elves," he accused. "Ah, have you so little regard for the Elves? I wonder what Legolas would say to that." "I am not speaking about Legolas! This is not about my faith. It is about yours." There was a challenge in Aragorn's eyes that dared Boromir to continue on this track. "Have you so little faith in your own people?" he bit out finally. Aragorn looked somewhat ashamed and troubled by this accusation as he averted his eyes. "Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty," Boromir began again, desperate for understanding from this would be king. "But there is courage also and honor to be found in Men. But you will not see that," he stated. Aragorn had a doubtful expression on his face. He had heard enough and turned to go. But Boromir grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him back. "You are afraid! All your life, you have hidden in the shadows. Scared of who you are, of what you are!" he shouted. They stood eye to eye. Aragorn brimmed with defiance. Boromir let go of him finally and Aragorn moved away. Boromir looked down, not knowing what next to do. Suddenly Aragorn turned back. He stared straight into Boromir's eyes from inches away. He was so close Boromir could feels his hot breath. "I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city," he stated firmly. Boromir felt defeated and walked away, in the opposite direction of their camp. Aragorn would have stopped him, it was too dangerous to wander alone, but at this moment he did not care. Boromir's words had stung. More than stung. They had been like a knife twisting in his gut. It was true. He had more faith in Elves than he had in his own people. What kind of King would that make him? He did hide in the shadows, biding his time until he could reclaim the throne that was rightfully his. That was what he always told himself. Though he was loathe admitting it, he was afraid. There was weakness not only in Men. Weakness lived in his own blood. Isildur's folly was the reason for all this turmoil. Despite Arwen's assurances that he would face the same evil and defeat it he was unconvinced. How could she understand the true evils of the world from the safety of Imladris? She was brave, yes. And good. But she did not truly appreciate his pain. How could she, sheltered as she was? He sat on the ground, back against a rock. "Aragorn?" a familiar voice asked. He looked up to see Legolas standing a few feet away. "I did not hear you approach my friend, I must be slipping..." he looked down at the ground. Legolas came closer. "I look for Boromir..." "Of course you do. I do not know where he went...we had words." "Not this again," Legolas shook his head, irritated. "I thought I was clear..." "Not over you," he said. Legolas felt shame for a second for being so self-centered. He looked at Aragorn's face. He seemed so troubled. "What was said?" "The truth. I am weak." "Boromir called you weak?" "Nay. He said I am afraid of who and what I am. And he is right." Legolas glanced in the direction Boromir must have taken and thought about going after him. But looking at Aragorn he felt torn. He loved Boromir with all his heart. But he had spent long years loving the man that sat before him as well. He could not stand to leave Aragorn in such pain. Legolas came over and sat beside the Ranger. "You did what you had to. It was not yet the time to reclaim your kingdom. That day will come though and you will be a great ruler." "You cannot know that Legolas. Isildur's blood..." he looked down at Andúril. The elf placed his hand under Aragorn's chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Flows inside of you. I know this. And he was weak. But you are not. I knew you as a boy and even then I saw your strength, grace and nobility. And now that I have gotten to know you as a man I see those same qualities that made me love you Aragorn. And I also see compassion. And humility. I would follow no leader I thought was weak. Know this Aragorn. I would follow you anywhere you led," the elf concluded, passion sparking in his cobalt eyes. Without warning Aragorn pressed his mouth to the elf's. He kissed the blonde urgently, pushing his tongue into his mouth. He felt Legolas respond, returning the man's passion, leaning into the kiss. The Ranger pulled the archer into his arms, pressing their bodies together. He had almost forgotten what it was like to kiss someone who's strength was a match for his own. Legolas had an incredible mouth and Aragorn was intent on devouring it. His hands stroked Legolas back, wishing they could touch skin, not fabric. He felt Legolas' hands in his hair. Aragorn felt his organ grow hard within his breeches. He pushed the elf to the ground and laid his large body over him. He could feel Legolas' manhood straining through the leggings. As they continued to kiss the man unfastened the tunic, letting it fall open on either side of the elf's chest. He ran his calloused hand over his silky flesh and heard Legolas draw in a sharp breath. "Aragorn..." the elf moaned. His body responded to long held, aching desire and for a while his mind was blank of all thought but Aragorn. Aragorn's hand slid inside the elf's leggings, caressing his painfully hard arousal. As Aragorn pumped the hard shaft of flesh he began kissing Legolas' neck, tongue playing against to hollow of his throat. He brought his mouth against Legolas' ear, sucking on the lobe, biting gently. He then licked the tip of the pointed ear, biting softly. Legolas jerked beneath him and he squeezed his organ harder. "Le aníron," Aragorn breathed into his ear. The Ranger continued to kiss and stroke the elf. He abruptly realized the elf had gone still beneath him. He pulled his mouth away and looked down into unblinking blue-eyes. "Legolas?" he questioned. "Get off of me Aragorn," he said. The Ranger obeyed, moving to the side. He watched the elf sit up and begin refastening his tunic. "Did I hurt you Legolas?" the man asked. "No. That is not it," the elf said. "Ú-chenion," Aragorn said. "I have betrayed the one I love," he got off the ground, still hard with desire. "I wished only to offer you comfort as you did me in Moria...I must go," he said, moving off in the direction where Boromir must have gone. Further down the banks of the Anduin Legolas found Boromir. "There you are," Legolas said, struggling to keep the pent up desire out of his voice. Boromir looked up. "I had a disagreement with Aragorn...he does not see how treacherous this path is, that there are safer roads..." he said, looking miserable. "Aragorn would not take a more perilous path than necessary," Legolas said. "You defend him still? I thought you had broken that habit of blind devotion toward your first love," he seethed. "I do not defend him... I only say that he would not risk our lives more than needed...is there something else that troubles you meleth nîn?" "Do you intentionally speak words to me I cannot understand?" he fumed. He had closed the gap between them. "Nay Boromir. Forgive me...my native tongue tends to come out when I speak from the heart..." he said gently, touching Boromir's face lightly. Boromir wrapped his arms around the elf and held him tight. He relaxed a little. Legolas had guessed correctly, something other than his argument troubled him. The ring spoke louder than ever. He opened his mouth to confide in his lover; perhaps sharing the burden would help. But then he saw Legolas' delicately pointed ear. There was a small bite mark on the tip. He touched the mark. "What is this?" He released the elf. "It is nothing," he said, color flooding his cheeks. It was against Legolas' nature to lie. If the man asked the next reasonable question Legolas was doomed. "Who did this?" rage was boiling inside the Gondorian. "Aragorn...I found him earlier. He told me of your argument. He was greatly wounded by it. I sought to offer him comfort..." "By offering your body to him?" he was almost shouting. "Nay. Words. That is all. But he kissed me and..." "And?" "He desired me. Pushed me to the ground...my mind was a blank..." "Did he force himself on you Legolas? For I will slit his throat if he so much as-" "Nay. He did not. That is not the kind of man Aragorn is...I put a stop to it Boromir. I love only you." "I do not believe you. I felt your arousal just before and was fool to think I was the one you yearn for," he said, stepping back. Tears welled in the elf's eyes. He reached for his lover. "Boromir please," he pleaded. Boromir shook his head, stepping away. "I cannot trust you. I can trust no one but myself," he declared and walked away, leaving Legolas to his tears. When the elf returned to camp he saw Boromir had moved his bedroll apart from the others and the man lay there, seemingly asleep. He did not look at Aragorn who stood by the shore, taking this watch. Legolas went and lay down near Gimli, wondering how he could have allowed what had happened. The next morning the Fellowship headed further down the Great River. They saw The Argonath and Boromir allowed himself a small smile at the sight. When he heard Aragorn call them his kin, however, the previous days anger resurfaced. He glanced at Legolas. The ring spoke so loudly it was all he could do to concentrate on the rowing. Shortly before nightfall they made camp again. Legolas watched, as Boromir informed no one in particular he was going to gather firewood. Everyone settled in, Merry and Pippin set about preparing their meal. In the midst of his thoughts of Boromir Legolas again felt the shadow of evil slip across his mind. Gimli and Aragorn talked of their road to Mordor. Hurriedly he left his position and approached Aragorn. "We should leave now." The elf stood very close. It was a painful reminder to the Ranger of last night's aborted intimacy. "No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness," Aragorn stated. Legolas felt very adamant about leaving. He gazed off into the distance, looking for some hidden danger and wondering what took Boromir so long to get wood. "It is not the eastern shore that worries me," he began. Aragorn turned his head to look at him. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind." He scanned the area. "Something draws near. I can feel it," he finished, looking into the Ranger's pale eyes. This moment seemed to drag on forever, as their eyes remained fixed together. Their eyes broke apart when Merry asked where Frodo was. Aragorn and Legolas looked around the camp. Aragorn noticed Boromir's shield. He looked at Legolas. "We must find Boromir and Frodo. Now," he said, gravely. Legolas nodded. "Let us search separately," he said, hoping they would not find the Gondorian and the hobbit together. He also prayed he would be the one that would find Boromir. Seeing his condition the night before he did not know what rash thing the man might do to Aragorn. The elf wished to protect Boromir and Aragorn from each other. "Agreed," Aragorn said. "Gimli, guard the hobbits." "Aye," the dwarf said. The elf and the man took off in opposite directions to search. Unfortunately, neither Legolas nor Aragorn found Boromir before it was too late. The Gondorian was overcome by his lust for the ring and tried to take it by force. Frodo escaped his clutches and took off, leaving Boromir ashamed and remorseful for the evil he had attempted to commit. There was no time for further searching for his lover when the Uruk-hai attacked. Gimli and Legolas were in the midst of battle when they heard Aragorn's cry of "Elendil!" The man leapt from top the stone structure onto a horde of orcs. Legolas came running in to assist, arrows flying, followed by Gimli. All thoughts had to be on Frodo and Legolas did not know if Aragorn had any more luck than he did. "Aragorn, go!" he yelled. Aragorn attempted to cut a path through the agents of Saruman but could not get far. The fighting moved deeper into the woods. The Ranger found himself suddenly in the grasp of an Uruk. He was being choked and could not escape. Legolas saw this and put an arrow in the foul creature's back. Before anything else could happen Legolas recognized a sound in the distance. A look of horror and fear crossed the elf's face "The horn of Gondor," he said. "Boromir," Aragorn said. Legolas was paralyzed by fear for his love for a split second and looked back at Aragorn who ran in the direction of the horn. Legolas was about to take off in that direction as well when he and Gimli were waylaid by another cluster of Uruk-hai. As Aragorn was mere yards from the source of the horn call, Boromir had finally succumbed to the third arrow shot into his torso and was on his knees before the Uruk-hai, helpless. All of Boromir's thoughts were of Legolas. He blinked back tears. It was all a blur to the Gondorian as Aragorn swept in and prevented the fatal shot. He lay back on the ground as Aragorn fought and killed the beast. Aragorn swung Andúril and decapitated the Uruk leader. Gasping for air he rushed to Boromir's side. "No," he pleaded out loud. Aragorn hovered over the other man, checking his injuries. Boromir began telling him about the hobbits being taken. "Lay still," Aragorn insisted. The Gondorian's next question was about Frodo. Aragorn looked miserable. "I let Frodo go," he said. "Then you did what I could not," Boromir said, painfully. Their eyes met and Boromir wrapped a hand around Aragorn's neck, fingers sinking into his hair. "I tried to take the ring from him," he said, ashamed. Aragorn shook his head a little in dismay. "It's done with. The Ring is beyond our reach now." "Good..." the Gondorian said, relieved. " Legolas... we spoke harsh words last night...you must tell him I am sorry..." "You will tell him," Aragorn said, his heart breaking. "No...tell him...tell him..." he struggled to recall the elvish words. "Le annon...le annon...veleth...." "Le annon veleth nín," Aragorn said softly. "Yes...tell him..." he writhed in pain. " Forgive me. I did not see. I have failed you all." "No, Boromir. You fought bravely," he said meaningfully. "You have kept your honor," he spoke form the heart. Aragorn went to remove an arrow. "Leave it," Boromir insisted. A look of anguish crossed Aragorn's face. "It is over." Aragorn put his hand on Boromir's face. He was hoping Legolas would get there soon before it was too late. "The world of Men will fall. And all will come to darkness...and my city to ruin," Boromir despaired. "I do not know what strength is in my blood...but I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall...nor our people fail," Aragorn spoke with conviction, looking deep into the other's eyes. "Our people," Boromir said, questioning. Aragorn nodded once. "Our people," he repeated, more firmly. Aragorn nodded again. Boromir reached out for the sword and Aragorn handed Andúril to the dying man. Legolas came running up at this moment. He saw Boromir clutching the sword his chest. He knew at this moment that Boromir was dying. A look of infinite sadness crossed his lovely face. He wanted desperately to rush to his lover's side but couldn't make his body move. He felt rooted to the spot so he merely stood there, and neither man noticed his presence. "I would have followed you, my brother. My captain. My king," Boromir said. Aragorn let the tears flow freely. He bent, taking Boromir's head in his hands. "Be at peace...son of Gondor," he said, kissing his forehead. Legolas felt sorrow such as he had never felt in his long life. This was nothing like the death of his friend Gandalf. He felt he should be the one hovering over his dead lover, kissing his cold flesh but he still could not move. Instead he dropped to his knees, his head against the ground and began weeping. It took both Gimli and Aragorn to wrest him from that spot and lead him back to the camp. The Fellowship was broken. The elf, the man and the dwarf went through the process of preparing Boromir. They laid his body in one of the elven- boats and sent his body over the Falls of Rauros. Aragorn and Legolas sang a funeral dirge for the departed. The ranger noted how little emotion the elf showed. He had not even spilt one tear since his breakdown earlier. Aragorn had taken Boromir's gauntlets and would wear them now, to carry a piece of their fallen friend with him, always. Legolas had wanted no similar token to remember his love. Aragorn slipped the gauntlets on and saw Legolas moving out toward the boat. The elf was frantic to move on from here, to do something so that the grief would not overtake him. "Hurry! Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore." He looked back on Aragorn as he was putting on Boromir's gauntlets. He had told Aragorn to keep them. "You mean not to follow them." Aragorn told them they would not follow Frodo but instead would go after Merry and Pip. Legolas was relieved that they would not be staying a moment longer in this place where he felt Boromir's death all around him. He even smirked when Aragorn said, "Let's hunt some orc." Aragorn took off into the woods and Gimli and Legolas followed close behind. As he ran he thought of Boromir and he felt like he was being pulled into a dark, bottomless abyss of desolation. The elf shut his memories of Boromir up in a dark corner of his mind. Hopefully they wouldn't leap from that dark corner and drag him down into the abyss. The End Title: Mortal Love: Part 5/7 Author: Jen Lynn E-mail: jmo75200@yahoo.com or 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 Summary: After the death of Boromir, Aragorn is terribly afraid that Legolas will die from grief. He does what he can to comfort the miserable elf and make certain that does not happen. Archive: LXF, Lirimaer yes. Others please ask. Rating: NC17 Note: The elvish translations come from the Council of Elrond. Huge thanks once again to Jean for being a great cheering section of one! Feedback is greatly appreciated. Mortal Love Part5: Why Should I Cry For You? Why Should I Cry For You? Sting Under the Dog Star sail Over the reefs of moonshine Under the skies of fall North, northwest, the stones of Faeroe Under the Arctic fire Over the seas of silence Hauling on frozen ropes For all my days remaining But would north be true? All colors bleed to red Asleep on the ocean's bed Drifting in empty seas For all my days remaining But would north be true? Why should I? Why should I cry for you? Dark angels follow me Over a godless sea Mountains of endless falling, For all my days remaining, What would be true? Sometimes I see your face, The stars seem to lose their place Why must I think of you? Why must I? Why should I? Why should I cry for you? Why would you want me to? And what would it mean to say, That, "I loved you in my fashion"? What would be true? Why should I? The Ranger could not sleep even though stopping to rest was his idea. His command, actually, for both Gimli and Legolas had opposed him initially. The dwarf was more vocal in his resistance, arguing that all manner of torture was most likely being visited on Merry and Pippin and they could waste no time on such trivial matters as rest. For his part, the elf simply stated: "I require no rest." A lie. Aragorn knew it instantly. Legolas' fatigue was plain to see on his exquisite face. His body may not have been weary but his mind certainly was. The elf thought his companions didn't notice but Aragorn caught all the looks of wretchedness that his old lover simply could not hide. He did not see any tears fall from the elf's cobalt eyes but he saw his tear-stained cheeks. The Ranger was terrified. Legolas was slipping away. Grief was swallowing him day by day as the Halls of Mandos beckoned. Aragorn rolled onto his other side and saw Legolas form several meters away, highlighted by streaming moonlight. He could lie passive no longer. The Ranger rose slowly. Gimli continued to snore heavily as Aragorn got to his feet and quietly approached the elf. Now that he was closer he saw the elf fully. It made his heart ache to see the abject sorrow on his friend's face. But despite the visible pain Legolas was in, his beauty remained incandescent. The Ranger took several small steps so that they were less than two feet apart. The elf made no move to turn and face the man. "Legolas?" Aragorn whispered. The elf jumped as if startled by a very loud noise. He spun so that he was now facing the man. "You frightened me Aragorn," he said in a choked voice. Tears poured down his face. His usually bright blue eyes were bloodshot from crying. "And you frighten me Legolas," he said, reaching his hand to brush those tears away. The elf closed his eyes allowing the man to wipe his face dry. In silence Aragorn did this, finally tearing a small piece from the already torn tunic he wore and using that. His touch was so loving it started a new cascade of tears. "Please my friend, you must stop," Aragorn implored, desperation coloring his voice. His fingers began caressing the elf's smooth jaw line. "I have tried Aragorn," he said in a quavering voice. "I am a slave to these awful emotions. How is it that mortals survive the loss of their loved ones? I am being destroyed Estel..." "You cannot give in to this grief," the Ranger said, firmly. "I cannot lose you Legolas." At this the elf broke down, pain pouring from him like blood from an open wound. Aragorn gathered the slim being against his body and held him as he was racked by sobs. It seemed the weeping went on forever and all Aragorn could do was hold the inconsolable elf. As the tears at long last ceased Legolas went limp against the Ranger so that the man had to hold even tighter to prevent him from falling to the ground. He carefully sunk to his knees with the archer in his arms. Panic ripped through Aragorn's body. The elf felt completely lifeless. He maneuvered so that he held Legolas across his lap, as one would cradle an infant, as he sat back on his legs. "Legolas! You cannot leave me!" he pleaded, feeling tears prick at his own eyes. He laid his head against the elf's chest, straining to hear a heartbeat. He heard it, steady and true. He lifted his head, looking at the grief-stricken face of the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. "Answer me Legolas," he asked, gently. The cobalt eyes appeared to focus on Aragorn's paler ones. "I am alone again...always alone...this is my fate Estel..." "No. You are not alone. How can you say that? I am here." He caressed the elf's cheek. "You do not love me...you cannot love me...I gave my heart to you Aragorn and it was unwanted...and Boromir..." Tears pooled again but did not fall. "I felt loved as I never had...and he was taken from me...and the last time we spoke...he said he did not trust me...I told him I loved only him and he did not believe me..." "It was the ring speaking Legolas. It already held Boromir in its grasp. He asked me to tell you he was sorry for the harsh words he spoke to you. And he had another message as well..." Aragorn paused. He didn't know it would be this difficult to say the words. They were Boromir's, not his but still...He broke their eye contact briefly. "Aragorn?" The elf's voice was so soft, so prayerful. Aragorn met Legolas' gaze again. "Le annon veleth nín [I love you]," Aragorn said, with great feeling. It felt so...right to speak those words to this elf. How long had the elf waited to hear those words from the Ranger's lips? But these were Boromir's words. "He told you that?" "Yes, in elvish. Did you teach him those words?" he asked, stroking the silky blond hair. "Yes..." a wan smile curled the corners of the elf's mouth. " He did not die despising me then..." a stray tear slid from his eye. Aragorn brushed that tear away with the back of his hand. He then let his hand slide down Legolas' face, his thumb coming over the elf's supple lips. "I don't know how anyone could despise you..." he continued caressing the elf's face, stroking his hair. The Ranger's fingers grazed the outer curve of one finely pointed ear. Legolas closed his eyes, his body warming to Aragorn's touch. "I was lonesome for so long Estel...until he held me..." The tears fell anew. "Legolas, you must listen to me. You will die of this heartache if you cannot stop these tears," Aragorn said, unable to keep the fear from his voice. "And why should I live?" he asked. At this Aragorn pulled Legolas up by the shoulders, forcing the elf to sit upright and face him. "Because there is more to be done! Merry and Pippin need us. We cannot allow anymore of our friends to die when it is within our power to save them!" Fire seemed to kindle in the elf's blue eyes. "I would not see anymore of my friends die," he said in a quiet voice. "Then let go Legolas, let go of the grief that would destroy you. It is not what Boromir would want. He would not have you wither away because of his death," the Ranger said. Legolas nodded his head. "He would not..." There was a long silence before the elf spoke again. "I heard him call you his brother. His king..." Aragorn closed his eyes briefly. He cursed himself for all the misunderstandings that existed between himself and the other man. The Ranger was ashamed to admit how his jealousy had colored their interactions. He had no right to be jealous. "I was wrong about Boromir..." Aragorn said softly, head hung low. Legolas took the man's hand in his. At the unexpected contact Aragorn raised his head and met the elf's eyes. "It seems he forgave us both then..." The tears still fell but seemed to be of a different quality. These seemed to be tears of relief. Aragorn shed his own tears. All this time he had been in a panic about the elf surrendering to heartbreak but now it seemed that would not be so. Again he brushed the elf's tears away and Legolas did the same for him. Without warning soft laughter came from the archer. Aragorn gazed at him in puzzlement. "Something amuses you?" he asked, a soft, unsure smile playing on his mouth. "Look at us Aragorn...we mewl like newborn babies..." "What a sight me must be..."Aragorn said. Legolas looked back at the camp. "At least we did not wake Gimli," he said. "You look weary. Do you wish to rest Legolas? I can keep watch." "Nay. I will be all right...you should go back to bed Aragorn," he said. "I would prefer to keep you company," he said, with deep meaning, as he ran his hand over the other's face again. The elf's eyes remained fixed on the man's. "What is it you offer me Aragorn?" Legolas asked, voice wavering. He was aching to be held in the Ranger's strong arms. "Whatever you need I will give," he avowed. The Ranger leaned forward tentatively. He would not force this like he had back on the banks of the Anduin. This could not be about his desires; it must only be about Legolas. The elf drew in a shuddering breath. He stared into Aragorn's pale blue- grey eyes. He saw desire mixed with compassion. He had loved Boromir in a profound way. And knowing Aragorn could never be his he had buried his feelings for the Ranger. But the love of elves is eternal and he would never, could never, stop loving the man who sat before him, offering him whatever he needed. Legolas leaned forward so that his mouth was agonizingly close to the man's. He let his fingers trail down Aragorn's bearded face and let his hand slide behind the man's neck. The Ranger began running his fingers through the elf's long golden hair. Nerves fluttered in his belly. It reminded him of their first time together in Rivendell. How he had ever had the daring to kiss the elf under that tree he did not know. But the words he had spoken to Legolas that day were as true now as they were then. He had never seen a more beautiful elf. He recalled what a gentle, considerate lover the archer was. And in his youth he had taken advantage of the blonde's obvious feelings for him. He felt deep shame about the last time they had been together. He had been rather cruel towards Legolas, taking what he wanted and leaving just as quickly. Looking into the elf's sweet eyes he knew this was his chance to make it right. "Tell me what you need and it is yours," Aragorn whispered. "Le aníron [I desire you]," came the lust-tinged response. Then the elf pressed his trembling lips to Aragorn's. The man returned the kiss with unfathomable tenderness. He made no other movements, except to place one hand on either side of Legolas' face to hold him there. It was like a first kiss between young, timid lovers. The elf inched closer, placed his other hand behind Aragorn's back, and began carefully moving it in small circles. It seemed they kissed like that for a long time, wanting nothing more than the almost chaste sensation of their mouths moving against each other. Legolas wondered when Aragorn had learned such gentleness. There had been a certain amount of roughness to the young Aragorn's touch. Not that the elf had minded. But this felt like a different man. The elf breathed in deeply, smelling Aragorn's scent. Legolas felt his arousal thicken, wanting to know if it was only his kisses that were now so tender. He intensified the kiss, pushing his own tongue into the Ranger's mouth. The man responded by moving his hands from Legolas face and sliding his arms around his slim body. Legolas had both hands behind Aragorn's back now. The Ranger wished he were already rid of the annoying clothing that kept him from feeling the elf's expert fingers against his skin. Their tongues danced against one another. This was what he had remembered, the delicious taste of Legolas mouth, how pliant the slighter male became in his arms. Aragorn shifted his weight forward a little, to see how the elf would respond. To his delight Legolas pulled Aragorn down, so that the large man was now on top of the elf. Their organs pressed together. Aragorn felt his manhood harden further as he felt the elf's own eager arousal. Aragorn continued to devour the elf's mouth as he pushed his body up a little so he could remove the elf's tunic. Unlike on the shores of The Great River, Legolas' hands came up to help. The garment was tossed aside and Aragorn looked down on the smooth white skin glinting in the moonlight. He ran his hand over the muscles of the elf's abdomen, feeling Legolas stomach flutter at the touch. Putting one knee on either side of the elf's hips he then bent and licked at one taut nipple. He let his tongue swirl around it for a few seconds and then began sucking gently. 'Ai..." the elf moaned. Aragorn took his hand and let his fingers tease the other nipple, squeezing ever so lightly. Legolas arched his back, driving their groins against one another. The man ceased his sweet torture and kissed a path south, stopping at the elf's navel and lapping at it. At the top of the archer's leggings he could see how the elf's organ swelled against the fabric. He laid his hand over the bulge and pressed down. Legolas gasped. Aragorn smiled. He climbed off the elf and removed the other's boots. He peeled the leggings down, tossing them aside along with the discarded tunic. He lay back down beside the now naked elf and bent over his throbbing organ. Legolas was panting heavy with anticipation as Aragorn hovered so near his manhood. Legolas closed his eyes, waiting. Finally he felt one calloused finger run slowly over the length of his organ. His body convulsed at this teasing caress. "Aragorn..." The finger was quickly replaced by the man's tongue. The Ranger licked up and down the shaft of flesh, lapping at the pearls of liquid that seeped from the tip. Aragorn thought he could easily get drunk on the sweet taste of the elf. He took the whole length into his mouth and began sucking softly. Legolas fingers sunk into the Ranger's hair and his hands pushed the head down, urging him on. Aragorn sucked harder at this, wanting to bring Legolas to orgasm, longing to drink deep of Legolas' essence. He was not disappointed. The elf let out a throaty moan as his seed surged into the man' s mouth. Aragorn swallowed, savoring every single drop until there was no more. He finally removed his mouth and slid up to lay beside the elf. Aragorn watched as Legolas' chest heaved in the aftermath. He took his hand and ran it over the silky skin. Legolas turned a little so he could see into the Ranger's eyes. He ran his own long fingers over Aragorn's stubbly cheek. He caught the hand that stroked the skin of his torso and brought it near his face. Legolas closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of leather. Leather and Boromir. And Aragorn too. The Ranger watched as the elf began touching the gauntlet at his wrist. Aragorn felt a stab of pain. Did the elf pretend he was Boromir? Was that the only way he had been able to allow Aragorn to touch him? Suddenly though, Aragorn felt the elf tugging at the bracer. He met Legolas' eyes. The look on the elf's face made the Ranger's heart beat even faster. Legolas knew exactly whom he was with; there was no need for pretense. Aragorn didn't move to help; he just let the elf fumble with removing the gauntlets, first one then the other. When they were finally off the elf laid them lovingly to the side and turned back to Aragorn. "You said you would give me anything I needed," he said. "Whatever you desire," Aragorn replied. "I would have you fill the emptiness inside me. That is what I desire," Legolas said, imploringly. "Anything you wish my prince," he said and pulled his boots off. He let Legolas remove his tunic. The elf's hands roamed over the man's broad chest. He was more muscular now than he had been so long ago. While this went on Aragorn stripped himself of his breeches. He once again straddled the elf's hips, bringing their organs into alignment. Legolas was hard all over again. The Ranger himself was so thick with arousal he did not know how long he could delay the inevitable. Aragorn reached to his discarded tunic and found a small phial of elven-healing oil. He poured some of the warm thick liquid onto his hands. He went to do the same to his organ when Legolas grabbed his wrist. Aragorn looked to see his palm outstretched. The Ranger let a little of the oil drizzle onto the elf's palm. His breath hitched when the elf's hand slid over his yearning manhood. "I do not want to wait any longer Aragorn," Legolas said, need apparent in his voice. "And you shall not," the man answered. He parted the elf's thighs and sought the entrance to his body. He inserted one finger little by little, reaching deep inside the elf, feeling for the place he wanted to touch to send the elf into ecstasy. The elf shuddered and moaned when he found it, making Aragorn smile. He added another finger and continued to strum the elf, eliciting the sweetest music he had ever heard. Watching the elf's face as it contorted in rapture increased the Ranger's urgency. He removed the fingers, hearing Legolas whimper at the loss. Taking one long leg and then the other, he wrapped the limbs around his waist. Aragorn did not allow the elf to feel empty for long as he pushed the tip of his organ inside Legolas tight body, feeling his delicious heat. He drove deeper and deeper until he was fully within the elf. Legolas cried out as the Ranger pressed against his secret place. Aragorn remained perfectly still until they were both used to their bodies being one again. Legolas ran his hands over his lover's muscled arms. When the tightness eased somewhat Aragorn pulled out a little and when he thrust down he connected their mouths in a fiery kiss. Legolas moaned into the man's mouth. Aragorn began a rapid, insistent rhythm that the elf moved his body in time with. With every thrust the archer felt passion rip through his being. Somehow the man had forgotten how perfectly their bodies fit together. He would never forget that again. Aragorn moaned "Legolas" over and over as he made love to the elf. Because that is what it was, though it had never been that before. Aragorn took Legolas' manhood in one hand and pumped in time with the rhythm so that they reached climax at almost the exact same time. The man and the elf lay spent in each other's arms for a long time. Aragorn moved finally. Legolas wrapped his arms around the Ranger, imprisoning him against his body. "No. Please Aragorn...I must feel you inside of me....don't go yet," tears stood in Legolas eyes. Aragorn settled his body back down against the elf. He wondered for whom the elf's tears were for but did not ask, not wanting to hear the answer. The Ranger lay against the elf, thinking about the message he had delivered from Boromir. 'Le annon veleth nín.' The phrase played over and over in his mind. He ached to speak those words to Legolas again. But not from Boromir. From his own heart. "Legolas?" He asked softly. There was no answer so he looked up. Legolas eyes were unfocused, his breathing serene. Aragorn sighed. "Losto mae meleth nîn, [Sleep well my love]," he said and kissed the elf's lips softly. The End Title: Mortal Love: Part 6/7 Author: Jen Lynn E-mail: jmo75200@yahoo.com or 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 Summary: At long last Aragorn says the words Legolas has been hoping to hear. But the elf's happiness is all too brief, as fate seems to snatch another love from his arms. Archive: LXF, Lirimaer yes. Others please ask. Rating: NC17 Note: Several lines of dialogue are taken from The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. The elvish translations come from the Council of Elrond. "An-uir" translates literally to "for eternity". Again, thanks so much to Jean for beta-ing this for me. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Mortal Love Part 6: Fumbling Towards Ecstasy Fumbling Towards Ecstasy Sarah McLachlan All the fear has left me now I'm not frightened anymore It's my heart that pounds beneath my flesh It's my mouth that pushes out this breath And if I shed a tear I won't cage it I won't fear love And if I feel a rage I won't deny it I won't fear love Companion to our demons They will dance and we will play With chairs, candles and cloth Making darkness in the day It will be easy to look in or out Upstream or down without a thought And if I shed a tear I won't cage it I won't fear love And if I feel a rage I won't deny it I won't fear love Peace in the struggle to find peace Comfort on the way to comfort And if I shed a tear I won't cage it I won't fear love And if I feel a rage I won't deny it I won't fear love I won't fear love I won't fear love... In the Golden Hall of Meduseld Legolas stood near Gimli as they made final preparations to leave for Helm's Deep. The elf was struggling not to watch Aragorn as he conversed with Eowyn. She had swung her sword, he parried it and the flirtation was more apparent than it had been when they had feasted together the previous night. Though it appeared one sided and Aragorn seemed to only offer kindness Legolas could not help the jealousy from spiking inside of him. "Master Elf, do not worry yourself over that," Gimli said suddenly, forcing the elf to turn his eyes from the two humans. He looked down at the dwarf. "It is a good reminder to me Gimli. He will never really be mine..." There was a hint of bitter resignation in his voice. Legolas did not know when it was that he had begun speaking openly and easily to Gimli about Aragorn. Or even when Gimli had realized that there was more than friendship between the elf and the Ranger. Gimli placed a hand on Legolas' forearm in a consoling gesture. "He does care for you Master Elf, that is apparent," he said with a brand of heartfelt compassion that the elf never knew a dwarf to be capable of. "He cares," Legolas agreed. "He gave himself to me so that I would not fall into total despair and die from it... it was an act of kindness. But not love..." The elf's throat felt tight and tears pooled in his cobalt eyes. "Excuse me my friend, I would have a moment to myself before we depart." Gimli nodded. The elf patted him on the shoulder and left the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, Aragorn had seen the slim, blonde elf leave. "Excuse me my lady," he said, leaving her standing there alone. He approached Gimli. "Where did Legolas go? We leave within the hour," the man stated. "He wanted a minute to himself. I do not think he enjoyed watching you with the lady Eowyn." Aragorn frowned and strode off in the direction Legolas took. He came outside. It was a brisk morning. The archer stood, looking out over the lands of Rohan. The Ranger watched as the wind whipped the elf's golden hair. He approached from behind, knowing the elf heard his steps. When he was close enough to touch the archer, he gathered the blond locks in his hand, pushing the wind blown mess aside. You're cold," Aragorn breathed. Aragorn's hot breath on the back of his neck sent chills up the elf's spine. His body quickened to the feel of the man's warm lips against his exposed skin. "I am fine," Legolas insisted. "Are you?" Aragorn asked, wrapping his arms around the elf, hugging their bodies together. "I do not feel the cold. You know that," he said, deliberately keeping this a discussion about the temperature. "Why are you so cold Legolas?" he asked gently. "You did not come to my room last night," the elf let out. He felt color rise in his cheeks. He sounded like a maiden waiting for her suitor to call upon her and feeling scorned when he did not. "I was with Gandalf and Théoden all night talking about the battle to come. We tried to persuade him to reconsider going to Helm's Deep. Before I had realized it morning had dawned," Aragorn explained. "Forgive me Aragorn. I know that there are more important matters for you to tend to than me..." Aragorn released the elf from his arms and turned him by the shoulders so they were face to face. "You are more to me than a 'matter' that I must tend to," he said, fiercely. The Ranger's pale eyes were alight with desire and love. "Let me make myself perfectly clear so that you have no more doubt about what you mean to me Legolas. Gerich veleth nín [you have my love]," he said, taking the elf's face between his strong hands. Aragorn had chosen to express his love to Legolas with different words than the ones the elf had taught Boromir. He did not want the elf to think he was merely parroting the other Gondorian. "You do not mean what you say," Legolas said, sadly, fingers instinctively going to the pendant that hung from the man's throat. The Ranger took Legolas' hand away from the Evenstar. He brought it to his lips and kissed it lovingly. "You were there, weren't you? You saw us on the bridge, when she gave me this?" Legolas nodded. "I thought so. I felt someone nearby. Someone familiar... and then when I saw you at the council...I felt an overwhelming need to hold you in my arms again, to kiss you," desire colored Aragorn's deep voice. "That night, after the council I saw her again. I told her what we had was a dream, nothing more. I tried once more to return the pendant. Still she insisted I keep her gift. And I did not wish to hurt her more...it seems that is what I do, go about hurting the elves who love me," he said. "But no more. I have denied what I feel for you for too long Legolas. Gerich veleth nín. An-uir [forever]." With that Aragorn joined their mouths in a tender kiss. The elf's heart pounded within his chest. He broke the kiss. "You love me?" he asked, disbelieving. How many times had he dreamt of those words coming from this man's lips? "How is that so?" A small smile crept across Aragorn's mouth. "Do you think it is so hard to love you? It is the easiest thing in the world my friend," he caressed the elf's jaw line. He kissed Legolas again. "I do not wish t