Title: Two Hearts Author: Big Smirk bigsmirk4u@yahoo.com Beta: Mel A & Meredith Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Legolas/Eldarion (Aragorn & Arwen’s son) Archive: Library of Moria & adultfanfiction.net Comments: General plot comes from the challenge posted by Lady Osolone in LOM Feedback: Yesss, we wants it, we wants it! Summary: Since Aragorn’s marriage to Arwen, a broken-hearted Legolas has wandered the lands of Middle Earth. Eventually he is persuaded to go to Aragorn’s court to tutor the 20-year-old Prince Eldarion in archery. He arrives with great pain in his heart at seeing Aragorn again, the man he loves and can never have. Eldarion falls madly in love with Legolas and pursues him ardently until, finally, he reaches the heart-broken Elf, and Legolas falls in love with him. But what happens when Aragorn finds out? Two Hearts Chapter One - The Request Aragorn and Arwen’s wedding had been a day of such beauty that it danced in the hearts and minds for many years afterwards of all those present except for Legolas. Every thought of Aragorn was like an arrow against which the Elf’s heart had no shield. Try as he might to deflect the thoughts from his mind, each one struck him mercilessly, breaking his heart anew. Aragorn’s words before announcing his intention to wed the Evenstar tormented him over and over again: “If I had two hearts I would give one to each of you.” But Aragorn did not have two hearts, and he had made his choice. Even worse for Legolas was the final exchange between them: “Legolas, I know my choice hurts you greatly. If your pain is so great that you would give up your life, I shall not wed Arwen. I could not bear to lose you from this world.” It had taken all of Legolas’ composure to give the only answer he could. “Your happiness means everything to me. You have my word; I shall not leave.” It was the answer that set his friend free with love and left the Elf imprisoned by it. ---Falling Nights--- Legolas fled into the forest immediately after the ceremony. He had only participated in the event that formally entombed his heart into an endless night for the sake of his loved ones. The distraught Elf felt that love had slipped away from him as the sun left the forest to the empty darkness of moonless nights. He had thought to head for one of the secluded woodland places that had brought him comfort in the past, but he never made it. Tendrils of despair wrapped themselves around his heart and limbs, dragging him down. He sat down heavily on the hard ground, sobs breaking out of the chest in which they had been restrained since Aragorn’s decision. Feeling eternally alone, he cried through the night. All the next day Legolas wandered in tear-blurred aimlessness. As night fell again, his grief brought him to his knees. Raising his head to the dark sky, he let out a single, woeful howl. Pure misery echoed out into the night, witnessed only by a cold, silent moon. With not even the will to keep his balance, he fell back onto the damp earth and lay there, eyes staring blankly upward, until the morning added light but no warmth to yet another day. ---The Gray--- Eventually the tears ran out, bled from him like his emotions. Gray numbness seeped into the void of his soul. The promise to live required that he again walk among his people. Several days after the wedding, what was left of Legolas silently reappeared. It did not take long for the other Elves to realize the depth of Legolas’ pain. His emotional absence disturbed them. They noticed the once bright eyes that were now dimmed with hopelessness. It was as if a bright light had been extinguished in their community. Unaware of the promise that bound him to the world of the living, someone had followed him in the early years in case he gave up and tried to leave for the Halls of Waiting. After a while they stopped following as they knew he would not leave, yet they did not understand how such a broken-hearted Elf could still live. Legolas continued to bare the weight of the promise, but it was not life that he possessed anymore. Although he still walked among the Elves, it was as if he were a ghost. Legolas’ mind drifted in a gray, shapeless world with no landmarks to show him a way out. Words and touches of comfort from the others were offered, but he had not the will to grasp any of them. As the years passed, he no longer believed there was anything beyond the gray anyway. --- Aragorn’s Court – The Early Years--- Eldarion, son of Aragorn and Arwen, radiated joy into the lives of all those he met. From his earliest days his hunger for knowledge and experience set him apart from his peers. He loved to spend the evenings listening to the stories Aragorn told about the people and places he knew. Above all, he loved to hear of the perilous journey to rid Middle Earth of Sauron’s evil ring. He could hear the love in his father’s voice for the companions he had risked his life with. One of the fellowship members in particular had captured the young Prince’s attention – Legolas, the Elf who had accompanied them. Eldarion always begged his father to describe how the Elf looked and moved. During archery practice, Eldarion always wished Legolas were there to teach him. Eventually the talented Prince had mastered all that Aragorn and Arwen could teach him about archery. Eldarion was blessed with the early physical maturity of humans and the early mental maturity of the Elves, and, as Eldarion grew into his manhood, a new dimension crept into his thoughts about Legolas. He started to wonder what it would feel like to make love to him. What touches did Legolas like? he wondered. Eldarion had explored his own anatomy as much as he knew how, but his body was half human and half Elf. He was unsure which of the delights he found excited him were because of his human or his Elven anatomy. Perhaps most of them would bring pleasure to both human and Elf, but what if they did not! He worried that his inexperience might prevent him from being able to give pleasure to Legolas, should the Elf allow him someday. Despite his uncertainty about his own love making ability, he held no such worry about Legolas’. Surely an Elf of such years would be skilled in more than archery. He felt sure that such a kind spirited Elf would be gentle in his art of love, too. He fantasized how the long, delicate fingers would someday trace Elven patterns of love over his body, inflaming him. Those fingers would work their way over him until they found his aching penis. Once there, they would wrap themselves around his shaft, stroking until they brought forth his essence. He imagined looking into blue eyes as Legolas thrust into him, expressing his love and receiving Eldarion’s in return, the gaze unwavering as the Elf rocked him to another inevitable release. As he lay in his bed at night, stroking himself, it was always the Elf’s name on his lips as he climaxed. ---The Request--- Elrond had suffered the hollow remains of Legolas among the Elves for the twenty years that had passed since the wedding. He had hoped that time would heal his dear friend, but it was clear that Legolas had become lost. Elrond’s attempts to reach him had all failed. As the new spring leaves decorated the forests again with the renewed beauty that Legolas would not notice, events brought a new chance to bring life back to his friend, and the troubled lord decided to take it. Legolas was summoned to Elrond’s chambers. Waiting for the silent ghost to sit down, Elrond looked compassionately into the dull gray eyes as he spoke. “Rain must fall in the forest, and so must it sometimes fall in the hearts of Elves.” Legolas sat unresponsive. He felt that his heart had long ago been washed away by the rain. Expecting as much, Elrond continued, “There is a task for which you are best suited.” Legolas looked up passively at the dark-haired Lord, awaiting the instructions. Elrond remembered the times when such an opening statement would have been met with an eager sparkle and keen willingness before the request was even uttered. He looked at the empty eyes of the blank face now turned in his direction. “Aragorn asks that you go to his court. He seeks a skilled archery teacher for his son, Eldarion…” The blank face suddenly contorted into a shock of pain and anguish. “Nay! Do not ask this of me!” Legolas protested desperately, his voice begging with the horror of one about to be thrown to his death. The raw display of the Elf’s pain was even more unbearable than his usual empty silence, but Elrond forced himself to continue. “Our characters grow from both the sun and the rain, to deny either one is to deny yourself,” Elrond offered calmly. Legolas opened neither his heart nor his mind to Elrond’s words. Looking at the floor he said in a monotone, “Only rain awaits me there.” The two Elves sat in silence, one in hope, the other in agony. Elrond waited for what little still remained of his friend to respond. After a long time, Legolas whispered obediently, “If you request this of me…then I shall go.” Elrond had hoped that his friend would go willingly, but he was left with no choice. “I request it.” Chapter 2 - Arrival ---Aragorn’s Court--- Legolas rode out reluctantly from Rivendell. Elrond had given him the most prized of the gray mares, Melethrien, to ride. She was as white as the moon and well known for her smooth gait and uncanny ability to sense approaching danger. The Lord of Rivendell felt better knowing she would look after him. Though Legolas had never faltered in battle since Aragorn’s wedding, the dread of his destination might create a moment of distraction the Elf could not afford. All along the trail to Aragorn’s court, the poor horse was confused by the clear verbal instruction to move forward, but the physical reluctance of her rider. In the past, such tenseness meant the presence of a threat. Trusting the Elf’s instincts to warn of danger, she was in quite a nervous state before they had gone very far. Momentarily coming out of the numb haze that clouded his mind, Legolas looked at the sinking sun and realized he would not make it to the court before nightfall if he did not hurry. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he called Melethrien to a fast gallop for the rest of the way. Melethrien decided that wherever they were going she wanted to get there quickly before the danger, wherever it was, appeared. She sped through the forest. Ascending the narrow path leading up to the main courtyard, Aragorn, Arwen and a tall young man standing next to them came into view. Legolas felt as if he had hit a wall. The agony of seeing the one he could never have slammed into his chest. The horse, responding again to the even greater stiffening of her rider, shied, nearly unseating the Elf who managed to hold on only through reflex. He softly called the mare to cover the rest of the distance to the court, thankful that they would not be able to hear the pain in his voice as he struggled to compose himself again. Concern swept across Aragorn’s face as he asked quickly, “Did you encounter trouble on your journey?” “Nay, all was well,” Legolas said flatly as he dismounted. Aragorn let the matter drop for the time being as he changed the subject. “This is our son, Prince Eldarion,” Aragorn said proudly as the tall dark-haired figure standing next to him moved forward a step before halting in uncertainty when he saw the Elf make no move toward him. Eldarion covered the rest of the distance between them with searching eyes. Legolas briefly regarded the young man standing before him. He vaguely noticed the long dark hair and the near similarity in height, himself being a little taller. Then he became aware of the questioning blue eyes reaching out to him. Legolas dropped his gaze. “I will see to your horse,” Eldarion said quickly, saving the Elf from further discomfort, before calling to the mare in the Elven tongue as he walked to the stable area. Eldarion was struck by the depth of the misery within the Elf. He was accustomed to happy faces or faces that soon became so around him, however, Legolas was not as he had expected. As he walked Melethrien around the stable courtyard for a while to cool her down, he pondered the mismatch between the stories he had heard of Legolas with what he had seen arrive that day. Noticing how quickly the horse calmed, he knew that no danger had befallen them on their journey. The Prince’s eyes stared sightlessly at the ground he walked over while he considered how he could reach Legolas. His own heart had ached at the suffering he had seen. He wondered frantically what had happened to the bright Elf who now seemed tangled in thorns of some misery from which he was unable to free himself. Focusing his attention back on Melethrien, he rubbed her down, combed out her mane and tail, checked her feet and legs, and threw a blanket over her before leaving her with her evening meal in one of the roomy box stalls. She pushed her soft muzzle into his chest before she started eating. “You’re welcome,” Eldarion chuckled. --- After Eldarion had led Melethrien away, Legolas followed the others through the ornately carved main door. Set above the door was an intricately carved piece of woodwork depicting a stag poised beside a large tree. Legolas absently noted a small arrow lodged awkwardly in it. The main door led into a moderately sized hall. Legolas noticed none of the beautiful carvings or tapestries that adorned the arched hall. “Tell me news of Rivendell,” Aragorn asked as he tried to determine a cause for the Elf’s mood. “Lord Elrond bids you good tidings. The orcs do not trouble his lands. All is well,” Legolas reported evenly. Aragorn watched his friend with his eyes and ears and found that the Elf spoke the truth, though he had never known Legolas to conceal anything from him in the past. Aragorn realized then that the trouble lay with the Elf. As they waited for Eldarion to return from the stables, Aragorn drifted pensively into thought. Arwen filled the silence with tales of her life at the court. She left the stories of the men folk to be told by them later. Legolas’ posture suggested that he was listening politely to her recount; he nodded in all the right places, but she suspected that he heard barely a word as his eyes never left the floor. She stopped talking and let the silence call the Elf’s attention to her. When he finally looked up, she looked questioningly at him. His looked at her momentarily before his gaze flicked involuntarily to Aragorn before returning to the floor again. In that moment, Arwen knew. --- Dinner was eaten in uncharacteristic silence. Even Eldarion spoke little, choosing instead to gain any information he could by watching and listening. A few words were spoken by each of them, but there was no depth to anything that was said. Legolas never picked up on any of the conversational openings, and he barely touched the food set before him. Eldarion noticed the Elf seem to fade away from them as if lost in some distant land. He felt drawn to the suffering Elf; he wanted to reach out and put his arms around him, but the dinner table was not the place for that. As they sat in the drawing room after dinner, Eldarion made a valiant effort to cheer Legolas. He leapt around the room, acting out scenes from his earlier days. The Prince made fun of just about everything that had ever happened to him, and he was clever in the way he did it. Aragorn and Arwen laughed until their sides hurt when Eldarion portrayed himself as a proud young boy showing off his new archery skills. They remembered the day when the young Prince had run ahead of Aragorn and proudly called his mother outside to see him let fly one of his arrows after his first archery lesson. As soon as the boy raised his bow, Arwen had dived for the ground. The reason for the arrow lodged in the carving above the main door became apparent to Legolas. Obviously the event had remained dear to their hearts, for the little arrow remained there still. Eldarion had been unable to reach Legolas through conversation at the dinner table, so he tried to reach him through his play. In that way he was able to tell the Elf about his life and feelings about his world so far without asking for any response from Legolas. They all noticed that although Legolas did not laugh he watched the entire performance without fading into the lost gaze they had noticed at dinner. As Eldarion concluded his play he dramatically acted out the final scene of begging for something he had obviously asked for recently but had not yet received. Smiling, Aragorn explained, “Legolas, it seems my son wishes to share his room with you. Are you agreeable to this?” Legolas managed a polite smile and nod to indicate his agreement. It was the shortest answer. He did not care where he spent the night. --- Night fell on the court. It had been a big day for everyone. Aragorn and Arwen talked quietly about Legolas for a while. Arwen felt uneasy and suggested that Aragorn look in on the two of them before turning in for the night. Aragorn quietly looked into his son’s room. His son lay sleeping peacefully on the spread out pile of bedding he had arranged on the floor to share with Legolas. His eyes were closed like a human but hands resting on his chest like an Elf. He always smiled at the sight, but the smile faded as he saw the huddled shape of Legolas. The Elf sat with his head drooped on the knees he hugged to his chest as if trying to ward off a chill. “Legolas...” Aragorn whispered quietly with concern. The forlorn face of the sitting Elf turned in his direction for the briefest of moments before dropping back down in resignation. “Please go,” came the barely audible reply. Nothing more was spoken, and Aragorn obeyed the Elf’s wish. It was clear that sleep would not find his friend easily that night, as it now became clear it seldom did. It was then that Aragorn worried that requesting the Elf’s presence may not have been such a good idea. He had hoped enough time would have passed, but the price of the promise Legolas had made had become shockingly clear. Aragorn had hoped that the Elf’s mood was due to the journey or some problem at Rivendell that he simply did not wish to trouble his friend with, but the truth of the Elf’s pain now hit him squarely in the face. Aragorn returned to his chamber deep in thought. Arwen watched her husband and knew by the look on his face that now he, too, understood. --- Eldarion had woken when he heard his father speak but had given no sign. After his father had left, the young Prince had seen Legolas sitting miserably beside him. Everything made sense to him then: the loving concern in his father’s voice, the misery in Legolas’. Legolas had loved Aragorn, but Aragorn had chosen Arwen. Rising silently, Eldarion knelt beside Legolas. Gently he took the Elf’s hands off his knees and encouraged him to lie down. His effort was met with limp acceptance. Eldarion lay him on his back and placed the hands across Legolas' chest before covering him with the blanket that had lain ignored by the Elf. Legolas' eyes stared blankly, not in sleep, but in some other world. The young Prince lay down and nestled against Legolas’ body. He hoped that in whatever world the Elf drifted, he would at least consider the warmth of a companion as a beacon to guide his return. Despite the lack of response from Legolas, Eldarion was in awe of the Elf’s capacity for love. A short time later Aragorn returned with Arwen. They peered into the room. Seeing the two lying together, Aragorn was touched by his son’s concern and care. He knew Legolas would still not sleep well, but it was still a nice gesture. Arwen placed a hand on Aragorn’s shoulder as the two retreated quietly. They had agreed to see if there was any change in the Elf after a few days. TBC