Fan Fiction ❯ Na laetha geal M'oige ❯ Oíche Chiúin ( Chapter 1 )

Na laetha geal M'óige

Genre: angst // drama // A.U.

Warnings: spoilers for the Fellowship of the Ring + the movie // explicit slash // rape and non-consensual actions // mild language // violence // angst // OOC

Archive: Please ask me before archiving… just send me a quick e-mail with the link to your site

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings and all of the characters, ideas, and concepts belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Notes: This contains spoilers for both the book and the movie, `The Fellowship of the Ring'… It has elements from both works, but isn't really centered on either one. If you missed the warning above, this is slash (yaoi). If you don't know what that is and don't want to find out… or if you already know what it is and you really hate it… I suggest you leave.

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Frodo slipped out of the crowded, stuffy room, praying that no one would see him leave. His poor ears were ringing and his head pounding from the noise he had just left. Lord Elrond, their host, had proposed that they have an evening of festivities to honour the newly formed Fellowship. Normally Frodo wouldn't object to a party, but he was not accustomed to so many unfamiliar people and races. Although it was mostly Elves in the vast room, there had been the stray Dwarf, as well as Gandalf, the other Hobbits, and a few Men. Frodo paused, listening for the sound of someone following him and heard none. And so, sighing in relief, he walked away from the noise in search of a quieter area of Last Homely House.

He wandered around for some time, shivering now and then when a cool breeze shifted through the vast, open halls. Finally, his feet became tired and he paused to rest in a part of the House he had not been through before. He sat down by the wall, watching the stars shyly peek out from behind the misty clouds. Frodo stroked the thin silver chain around his neck in a nervous gesture. He felt the weight of the Ring bearing down on him, as if the chain itself held the weight of Middle-earth on it. Which, in a strange way, it did, he reminded himself as he closed his eyes.

Just hours earlier, Lord Elrond had given him the surprising, yet not unpleasant news that he would not be journeying to Mordor alone. Before he knew it, Frodo was not only being accompanied by Sam and Gandalf, but also the Dwarf Gimli, Boromir, Legolas the Elf, and Strider, whom Frodo now knew as Aragorn. Merry and Pippin also declared that they would join in on the quest.

The Fellowship of Nine, the Elf Lord had called them.

Sighing, Frodo wrenched his trembling hand from the Ring and leaned his head back against the wall. He looked left and right several times, then the young Hobbit laughed and scratched his head. Face it, Frodo, he thought as he gazed out at the gardens of Rivendell. You've gone and lost yourself in these great Halls of the Elves!

"May I be of assistance, Frodo?"

Frodo squeaked in fright and scrambled to his feet, peering around in the dimly lit corridor, trying to find the speaker. "S-Show yourself!"

Soft, musical laughter drifted up from behind him. Frodo whirled, almost losing his balance in the process. He stared up to see the Elf, Legolas, smiling at him. Legolas crouched down in front of him, and Frodo couldn't help but notice the trace of sadness clouding the eyes of the eternally youthful Elf. He frowned at this revelation. What did Legolas have to be sad about? Perhaps he did not wish to be a part of the Fellowship.

Sensing he was being closely scrutinized, Legolas rose to his feet gracefully and moved to gaze out at Rivendell, watching others of his kind walk leisurely through the moonlit gardens. His exceptional sight caught two people in particular: Arwen, the daughter of Lord Elrond, speaking with Aragorn. A sharp pang passed through him as the two embraced and than disappeared from sight. Legolas turned from the windows, deeply wishing he had not seen that exchange of love between them. He glanced down at the Hobbit, seeing the youth was touching the chain at his throat. Legolas knew very well the burden that Frodo wore.

"Lord Legolas?"

Legolas smiled again. "Nay, my young friend. I am simply Legolas. I am no Lord… only in name and in blood."

"Legolas, then. May I ask what troubles you so, Legolas?" Frodo sat back down on the floor, unaware of the Elf standing over him with a bewildered look on his beautiful face. Legolas realized that the Hobbit was more perceptive than he gave him credit for. He knelt down on the opposite side of the hall, tucking his blonde hair behind delicately pointed ears.

"I suppose it is that I was the bringer of unpleasant news. You know of what I speak?"

Frodo nodded slowly. Earlier this afternoon, at the Council of Elrond, Legolas had told everyone that the creature, Gollum, had escaped some weeks ago. He had seemed ashamed of what he said, but Frodo soon found out why. The Elves of Mirkwood had been assigned to keep Gollum from escaping. Being the son of Thranduil, King of the Elves of Mirkwood, Legolas held himself responsible.

"Or it may be a number of other small annoyances that gather to create one large trouble. I will not say more than that." Legolas sighed softly and stood, holding out his hand to Frodo. The young Hobbit hesitated, than gripped the pale hand gently, almost afraid of breaking the delicate bones. Legolas helped him to his feet, then said, "I shall repeat my offer of assistance, Frodo. Are you seeking your chambers?"

Frodo smiled up at him suspiciously. "Did you follow me here, Legolas, as I left the party?"

"Aye, I did. But only because I do not enjoy large gatherings, especially with drunken Dwarves. Also, you appeared as though you needed companionship." He paused, a small, nearly inconspicuous frown crossing over his face, but it quickly vanished. Legolas lifted his arm and pointed down the hall. "If you continue down this corridor, turn to your right. When you come to the Hall of Fire, ascend the flight of stairs there. You shall find your chambers… devoid of your friends, as they are quite enjoying the ale."

Legolas inclined his head in a silent `good-night' and watched as Frodo made his way down the hall and around the corner. As the young Hobbit disappeared from his sight, the frown returned to Legolas' face. He gazed back over his shoulder.

"You may show yourself, Boromir, though you may wish to leave me in what little peace I have left."

Boromir stepped away from the shadows, laughing. "I can't keep anything from your pointy little ears, can I, Legolas?"

"Not only my ears, Boromir. My nose and also my eyes can sense Men better than anyone can. You should take care not to act so rashly, especially in dangerous times such as these," Legolas said disdainfully, watching as the Man moved closer to him.

"You're in a foul mood, baby Elf. Did you, by chance, see the Lady Arwen with Aragorn?" He smiled when Legolas tensed both at the mention of Aragorn, and the use of his name. "I see… than, am I correct in assuming that Aragorn is still unaware of your affection towards him?"

Boromir laughed again as Legolas flashed him an angry glare, following it with a long sting of Elvish curses and insults. "It would be in your best interest to leave me in peace… lest my arrows find your throat."

"Now really, baby Elf. It isn't like you to act this way. Perhaps you need some… attention," Boromir whispered as he crept closer to Legolas. He pressed against him, leaning in to touch his mouth to Legolas' ear. He smiled as the Elf shivered when he bit the tip of his ear, trailing his tongue along the edge until he met the tender flesh of his neck. Boromir reached up and ran his fingers through Legolas' silky blonde hair, knowing it was as action that always infuriated the Elf… any Elf, really. They were quite vain about their hair.

Legolas shuddered again and turned to face the Man, narrowing his eyes when he felt calloused fingers tightening around one of his braids. He pulled away quickly, smoothing down his hair.

"I shall wait in my room."

Boromir smirked as Legolas walked away from him and into the shadows, knowing he was once again triumphant in seducing the beautiful Elf. He turned in the opposite direction and walked slowly, fully intending on making Legolas wait. Boromir was well aware of what angered the Elf and what could make him cry out in ecstasy. Punctuality was one thing that many Elves took pride in, and Legolas was no exception. The last time Boromir had arrived late, Legolas had very nearly cut his throat. Boromir had been quick to take note of this, and guessed that if he was twice as late tonight, Legolas would be positively livid.

He smiled at the thought of bedding a livid Elf… they could be quite violent when provoked properly.

And I know just how to do it… well, well… Speaking of provoking…

"Good evening, Estel."

Aragorn whirled around, eyes narrowed angrily. "Do not address me in such a manner, Boromir. I have asked this of you many a time. It is not my true name; therefore, you should not use it… No one may use that name…"

"Not even Lady Arwen?" Boromir inquired, already knowing the answer. Aragorn shook his head in disgust at the other's Man's words and started to turn away, but Boromir knew who to make him stay. "Yet you allow Legolas to call you as such. I find it amusing that you choose a friend over your love who has given you her very life." Boromir gestured at the pendant around Aragorn's neck. Aragorn scowled at him and stuffed it back into his tunic.

"Legolas is more than a friend to me. You should understand that, Boromir. I have known him for many years…"

"Yes, I know that, Aragorn. But if you had to make a choice between a lifelong friend and a woman who has given you her immortality, who would you choose?"

Aragorn opened his mouth, trying to respond to Boromir's question. He found that he could not, not even in his mind. He sighed and crossed his arms in front of him. "Have you no where to be, Boromir, or is hassling the guests of Elrond your activity for the night?"

"Yes, I do in fact have a place to be… and a much more enjoyable activity to engage in. `Til the morning, Aragorn." He bowed mockingly and turned away swiftly to hide his laughter. When he was sure Aragorn was watching him, he looked back briefly and said, "I am certain Legolas will think of you tonight, Aragorn."

He was around the corner before Aragorn could reason out what his words meant. Boromir continued through the halls at a moderate pace towards his destination, noticing how much time had passed. Maybe he would return to his own rooms. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see Legolas in a state of annoyance and rage. It was a frightening thought. But when he pictured the slim, lithe body tensed in pleasure… the sweet taste of the silken flesh… the soft cries of ecstasy, very rare in their occurrence, Boromir knew that he couldn't resist the Elf.

Minutes later, he came upon Legolas' room. He opened the door silently and closed it behind him in the same fashion. No sooner had he taken a single step in the room, an arrow came shooting out from the darkness, striking deep into the wooden doorframe. It was so close that Boromir could feel the wind as it passed by his face. He growled softly and yanked the beautifully crafted arrow out of the wood, scanning the room for the Elf at the same time. It was quieter than Death, and Boromir found himself wishing for a single flame to guide his sight. He stood still, gripping the shaft of the arrow tightly, waiting for Legolas to give away his position.

"You realize, baby Elf, that I am at a disadvantage. You can see and hear all that I cannot. I am helpless…"

He crept closer to where the windows were, groping blindly for the heavy silk curtains. His fingers found the very edge of one, and he pulled, flooding the room in silvered moonlight. Boromir turned in time to see Legolas aiming another deadly arrow at him. Cursing, Boromir dropped the arrow he was holding and jumped away quickly. In desperation, he struck Legolas roughly across the face with all of his strength.

Legolas stumbled back and dropped his bow, wiping blood away from his mouth and chin. "Do not call me that", he hissed. He lashed out at Boromir when the Man came to close to him for comfort. Boromir smiled as he grabbed Legolas' wrists and held them tight, watching the chaotic emotions playing over his beautiful face.

"Baby Elf… you must be wary of where you aim your arrows. You may hurt a person dear to you one day."

"I know exactly where to place them… I wish to use your body as my target…"

Boromir silenced him with a hard, lust-enhancing kiss, further infuriating Legolas. To him, kissing was far too intimate an action to engage in with Boromir. He had always refused to kiss the Man. Growling softly, he jerked away from Boromir, wincing when he squeezed his captive wrists tightly… so tightly that Legolas could feel the bones in his arm being crushed together. He glared at Boromir, cursing him in rapid and explicit Elvish. Boromir merely smiled and placed a gentle kiss on Legolas' now-bruised cheek, loving the way the dusty purple matched his striking blue eyes.

"I don't understand the angry words coming from your sweet mouth, baby Elf."

"Leave me, Boromir. I want no more of these games. This ends now."

Boromir responded by shoving Legolas back roughly, causing him to fall on to the soft bed behind him. He lay still, legs dangling over the edge of the mattress, glaring up at the smug face of Boromir, half-hidden in shadow. Legolas did not move from his submissive position, knowing all too well that he would only receive another bruise.

"I… I do not desire this, Boromir."

"Truly? I think you lie to me, Legolas," Boromir whispered huskily, his voice dark with want, unfulfilled lust, and a lingering hint of danger that rang out in Legolas' mind. He crawled up onto the bed and straddled the narrow waist unwillingly proffered to him, reaching down to stroke the Legolas' obvious erection through his thin breeches. "Do tell me… what is it that you desire, my baby Elf? Wealth and fame… peace for Middle-earth… a night of passion with the one you love…"

"Aragorn!"

The snarled name earned Legolas another vicious blow across his already throbbing cheek. He winced visibly, biting down on his swollen lip to keep the cries of pain from escaping. He stared defiantly up at Boromir, satisfied to see envy dancing in his eyes. Legolas' breath hitched as Boromir ran gentle fingers up his arms and over his chest before tearing off the tunic. Growling, Boromir grabbed a handful of Legolas' long hair and pulled sharply.

"Turn over on your hands and knees."

Legolas obeyed, cursing his cowardice to defy the Man a second time, and cursing the need he had for the pleasure Boromir gave him. He felt Boromir grabbing his waist roughly, forcing him to rest his forehead down on his arms. Harsh reality came crashing down on him as he became aware of what Boromir was intending to do.

"Are you so angry that you would rape me?"

Try as he might, Legolas could not keep the fear from stalking into his voice, causing his words to tremble shamefully. Boromir ignored him, jerking the Elf's leggings down, exposing the flawless white skin. He ran his calloused fingertips over his lover's back, his ragged nails biting into the soft, yielding flesh teasingly. He choked out a low moan as Legolas pressed back against him. Boromir wrenched his hands from the enticing body and reached down to remove his own leggings, fumbling somewhat as he stared enthralled at the subtle glow of the Elf's silken skin.

"No, my baby Elf. I am certain you desire this… I know you wish for me to take away your pain."

Boromir spat on his fingers and hastily coated his throbbing arousal, not wanting to cause too much damage to his beautiful lover. Without warning, he thrust into Legolas' hot, tight body, completely oblivious to the scream of pain he elicited from the Elf. He paused his violent movement, noticing the thin stream of blood flowing steadily down the inside of Legolas' slender thighs. Boromir leaned over the arching back, concern mildly evident in his face.

"Legolas…"

"Do-… don't stop…"

Satisfied and admittedly relieved, Boromir placed his hands on Legolas' smooth waist and began to slam brutally into the willing body. His low moans danced sweetly with the sharp, keening cries of Legolas, growing louder as each savage thrust rocked his body.

"…Har-… harder…"

The Man smirked and then pulled out of his lover's body, turning Legolas over onto his back quickly before thrusting back inside. "If you want it so bad, my Elf…" He reached over and grabbed one of Legolas' hands and brought it down to his erection. "…Do it yourself."

Boromir watched in rapture as Legolas curled his long, talented fingers around his erection and began to pleasure himself, his cries growing higher. Boromir nearly lost control at the erotic sight of the Elf stroking his own cock, eyes closed in mindless, wanton pleasure. Legolas suddenly tensed, crying out in an exquisite combination of immense pain and pleasure. Boromir came seconds later, grasping the Elf's slim waist with bruising pressure. He pulled away after a moment of blissful silence, ignoring the audible hiss of pain Legolas let pass by his lips before he collapsed onto his bed.

Boromir cleaned himself off with the bed cover and straightened his leggings and tunic. He leaned down smoothly when he was done and kissed Legolas, meeting no resistance, but no response, either.

"Farewell, my baby Elf. I am saddened to end our affair in such a manner, but… I know when I am defeated by love." He kissed Legolas' pale hand gently. "'Til the Sun rises and she bathes you in gold."

Boromir sauntered out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind him. Legolas spat a curse at the door, then stood shakily and with some effort to clean himself. He tore the ruined sheets from the bed and replaced them, praying all the while that no one would ever ask him what had transpired here. He bathed rapidly in cold water, trying to rid himself of Boromir's scent clinging to his abused and tired body.

When he was finished, the water in the basin was bright red. Legolas nearly cried out when he saw the trail of blood still crawling down his leg. Shuddering, he pulled on the loose pair of breeches he used to sleep in and hoped that the blood would stop on its on accord.

Is this how Aragorn would see me? A simple-minded, juvenile Elf so infatuated with a Man that he does not know the difference of love and lust? But I do know. Lust is what Boromir feels for me. He has taken advantage of me so many times that I was blind to the fact that he used me… as I did him. I used him to escape the feelings I feel for Aragorn. Boromir used me because he enjoyed the idea of having an Elf as his lover… and possibly because he feels some compassion for my pain.

Love. Love is what I feel for Aragorn, and it is a most terrible feeling.

Legolas lay back on his bed and cleared his mind, trying to induce a deep, dreamless sleep. After a long while of tossing and turning, he rose from bed. He pulled on a long white tunic and his boots, and then left his room.

He was so involved in his thoughts that he failed to notice that he was being followed as he entered the mist-covered forest of Rivendell.

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Notes - The title of this story, Na laetha geal M'óige, is Gaelic for `the bright days of my youth'. This chapter's title, oíche chiúin, is Gaelic for `silent night'.

This is my first Lord of the Rings fiction, so it's a little rough around the edges. Normally, I write stories for animé or games. But, I'm an avid Aragorn x Legolas fan, and Legolas is my favorite character in LotR, so I decided to try it. Please tell me what you think!

Dedicated to Riley Dam, in memory of her fantastic stories and enticing characters.