Fan Fiction ❯ Na laetha geal M'oige ❯ Ouji-sama no Moya ( Chapter 2 )

Na laetha geal M'óige

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

All warnings can be found in the first chapter.

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Legolas paused, listening intently to the welcoming silence. He was nearly positive there was someone following him into the woods. He supposed it could have been one the Hobbits, as they were a very curious race, but he knew it was not another Elf. Elves did not make such noise. They were swift, silent, elegant beings, not bulky like Dwarves or Men. Legolas smiled a little, than winced and brought his fingertips to lightly brush his bottom lip. He could taste the metallic fluid on his tongue, and narrowed his eyes at the blood that coated his finger when he withdrew his hand. He cursed inwardly as he realized that his lip had split open again.

Ignoring his pursuer for the moment, Legolas continued limping though the trees, seeking his favourite place in Rivendell. It was a clearing with a small waterfall, tall enough that Legolas could stand under it comfortably, which descended into a deep, clear pool at it's feet. It was enclosed with silver-white rocks that shone in the moonlight. The tiny clearing was hidden away by the vast, green-leafed trees of the forest, creating a peaceful sanctuary.

There were only two others places in Middle-earth that Legolas would rather be. One was in the enlightening forest of Lothlórien, the haven of the High Elves.

The second place was in Aragorn's arms.

Sighing angrily at his frivolous thoughts, Legolas dropped down to his knees. He leaned far over the crystalline pool and cupped the water in his hands to wash the blood from his face.

Damn you, Boromir. How shall I explain my state of appearance to Elrond, or the Fellowship… or Aragorn?

"Legolas?"

Tensing in anticipation, Legolas swung around, pulling a sharp dagger from his boot at the same time. He fell into a fighting stance, but relaxed as he gazed up into the amused blue eyes of Aragorn. The Man smiled at the crouching Elf before he saw the trail of blood on his chin, burning bright crimson on Legolas' pale skin. His smile faltered more as he noticed the dusky purple bruise on his friend's delicate cheekbone.

"What are you doing, Legolas?"

Legolas did not answer him. He simply placed the dagger back along the inside of his boot and turned away from his companion. He splashed more of the cool water over his face and into his mouth, trying to rid himself of the taste of blood upon his tongue. He spat it out, not noticing that Aragorn was staring at him. When he finally did look back at him, the Man spoke before he could.

"Legolas… I pray that red stain on your leg is not blood."

The Elf gazed down and saw the copious amount of blood that was soaking into the fabric of his leggings. He realized, too, that he could feel it trickling slowly down the inside of his thigh. He sighed and looked away from Aragorn.

"Aye, it is blood. `Tis mine, if you care to know."

"I care to know how it came to… Legolas!" Aragorn cried out in frustration as the Elf ducked under the steady stream of water falling over the rocks. Legolas feigned deafness, although he could perfectly hear Aragorn's commanding voice, telling him to turn around. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the vivid fluid staining the clear water. Aragorn abruptly stopped shouting at him, but Legolas could still sense the Ranger's presence.

Legolas suddenly felt strong hands grab his shoulders and haul him from beneath the waterfall. He stumbled on the loose rocks and fell back into the pond. He was vaguely aware of Aragorn trying to keep his balance. Legolas heard his own voice cry out in surprise as he hit his head on a rock. He saw darkness for several moments, and then a dull, throbbing pain at the base of his skull made itself known.

"Damn! Legolas, how do you fare?"

Slowly, Legolas' vision returned to him. He gazed about at his surroundings, attempting to understand what had occurred. Eventually, his eyes settled upon Aragorn crouching over… no, on him, arms braced on either side of the Elf's confused face. Legolas felt panic creeping into his soul, strangling him.

"Please remove yourself from my body."

Aragorn smiled at the young Elf's nervousness. "Why, my friend?" he said teasingly. "Do I intimidate you, fair Legolas?"

"N-Nay. I wish to understand why you would deny my freedom when I ask it of you," he whispered. Legolas could barely keep his voice from shaking. His spirit and body alike were wrought with fear, anticipation, and loathing. Already, he could feel his hands trembling. Aragorn shrugged and allowed the Elf to jump away from him. He could not help but feel somewhat discouraged that his friend no longer trusted him with his life.

Legolas was well aware that Aragorn was confused by his actions, but he did not pay it much attention. The pain in his head was now sharpening and creeping forward to settle behind his eyes, making it difficult to focus. He walked over to the other side of the clearing, not wanting Aragorn to see the pain he was in. Legolas sat down, though not with his usual graceful and fluidic movements… it was more like watching a drunken Dwarf trying to sit in his chair and falling over. Normally, Aragorn would have laughed at the strange attitude Legolas was displaying, but he was worried about his friend's well being. He stood and walked over to Legolas, stopping when the Elf looked up at him quickly.

Aragorn held out his hands in a gesture he hoped was reassuring. "Legolas. I will not ask any questions of you. Allow me to help you. I hate to see you this way."

"Nay, Aragorn… I wish to be alone. If you truly care for me, you will turn and not look back… "

Aragorn had an overwhelming urge to ignore the request and go to Legolas and embrace him, telling him he would protect him from harm. Instead, he honored the plea for solitude and walked away, not once glancing back, though he desperately wanted to. He walked in silence, shivering as the mist curled over his bare arms. He had been in such a hurry to follow Legolas that he hadn't bothered to put on a shirt. He wondered if Legolas would be warm enough in the thin tunic he had been wearing, now soaked with water. Aragorn knew very well that the water was not very warm and would chill anyone, even an Elf.

He was nearly to the edge of the forest when he heard a noise off to his right. Aragorn crouched low and peered through the mist-shrouded trees. He saw someone moving swiftly into the forest, occasionally looking back over his shoulder to see if he was being followed. The figure passed through a clear area void of mist, allowing Aragorn a brief glimpse of his face.

Aragorn narrowed his eyes as Boromir continued towards the clearing were Legolas was still resting. Aragorn pushed his hesitation aside and followed Boromir, praying that Legolas would not be too displeased that he broke his promise not to go back to him.

:: + :: + :: + :: + ::

Boromir smiled as he watched Legolas slowly massage his temples, completely oblivious to the other's presence. He enjoyed the way the misted moonlight danced through the Elf's hair… hair he so loved to bury his hands in. He stepped into the clearing, purposefully making a great deal of noise in order to disrupt the seemingly peaceful Elf. Legolas lifted his face quickly, trying to see through the haze of pain he was wallowing in.

"Hello, baby Elf. What are you doing all alone in the forest? I had imagined you would be in your bed, healing your wounds," he said cruelly as he gestured at the dark bruise still gracing Legolas' face.

Legolas glared up at him. "I remember telling you to leave me… I do not desire…"

"Yes, I know… you desire that fool Aragorn. But he does not reciprocate your feelings, does he? He is not even aware you care for him in such a way. I can give you what you want, Legolas… I can make you desire me."

He lunged at Legolas, forcing him back onto the dewy grass and straddling his waist. He gripped the already abused wrists in one hand and held them above the Elf's head, pinning them there. With the other hand he stilled Legolas' thrashing head and kissed him viciously, loving the tiny sounds of protest his unwilling partner made. Boromir wrenched himself away from Legolas' mouth and ran his hand over the damp tunic, feeling the hard muscles twitch at his unwanted touch.

"Boromir… s-stop…!" Legolas cried out as Boromir ground his hips down on him. His own voice rang shrilly in his head, making his cringe at the very sound of it. He knew now that he was injured far worse than he thought. The pain was growing in intensity and he could dark spots begin to dance chaotically in front of him, obscuring his sight. The pain was so much he could barely fight Boromir's hands plundering his body, caressing him roughly.

"I will make you desire me," Boromir growled into Legolas' delicate pointed ear, his panting breath washing hotly over his pale skin. His eyes held a look of pure, unadulterated jealousy and rage. The two emotions clashed dangerously together.

Aragorn, Legolas thought desperately when he felt Boromir tugging at his leggings for the second time this night. Please return to me. I need you.

"Aragorn."

:: + :: + :: + :: + ::

Aragorn stilled his near silent footsteps and listened intently. He heard nothing except the distant fall of water and the strange birds of the night that had frightened him in his youth. He remained stationery for several moments, straining to hear the voice once more.

Perhaps the stars are singing to me, he thought, smiling. Legolas is forever telling me of how beautiful they sound, and how sad they are when the Sun awakens and she drinks their light.

"Aragorn…"

The voice was weak and lushly threaded with fear. Aragorn continued to follow Boromir's trail, praying that Legolas was not in any way harmed. He came to the edge of the clearing and halted abruptly in surprise and horror, watching the scene unfolding in front of him. Boromir was restraining Legolas beneath him, keeping the Elf's hands bound in one of his own, his other hand stroking and touching Legolas' body. Aragorn could see clearly the way Boromir gazed at Legolas; the blatant carnality and wanton desire were obvious on his features.

"Boromir… stop! I…"

A strangled cry drew Aragorn from his reverie. He stepped away from the shadows and the mist of the forest and into the moonlit clearing. He grabbed Boromir and pulled him away from Legolas. He cursed in confusion and anger, trying to get away. Aragorn held him at arms' length and turned his attention towards the Elf, fear tickling at his heart.

"Legolas, are you alright?"

The young Elf sat up slowly and squinted as if he had difficulty seeing. "Aragorn?"

"Aye, Legolas. How do you fare?"

Before Legolas had a chance to respond, Boromir wrenched himself from Aragorn's hands. He smirked at the other Man's surprised face. "I pray you are not envious of me, Aragorn. I have had your Elf's body. His blood stains me… he is mine."

Legolas blocked out Boromir's hateful and repulsive words. He tried to stand but the pain behind his eyes sharpened to a point. Alarmed, he gazed up at Aragorn only to see a silver-grey haze, with many black shadows in the mist.

Why… Where are you, Estel? Do not leave me here. I am afraid of this mist.

"A-Aragorn…"

Boromir and Aragorn ceased fighting long enough to glance over at Legolas. Puzzled at the distressed sound of his voice, Aragorn moved closer. Legolas had a strange, oblivious air about him.

"Estel…?"

Legolas was beginning to sound panicked, and impossible tears were forming in his eyes. He reached out to Aragorn with trembling fingers. Aragorn grasped them gently, mindful of the bruises surrounding his wrists. He turned and glared over his shoulder at Boromir before looking back at Legolas.

"Legolas, it's me. What is wrong?

"I… I cannot see you… I see nothing, not even the moon." Legolas felt a few tears break past his barrier and crawl down his cheeks, leaving behind cold trails. Confused, both Aragorn and Boromir waved their hands in close proximity to the Elf's face, but to no avail. The unseeing blankness remained in his deep blue eyes. Aragorn felt his own tears fall down his face as he took Legolas' shivering body into his arms.

"Oh, gods… Legolas, this is my fault."

"How, Estel? What has happened to me? Please tell me… I am frightened of this darkness."

Boromir laughed darkly. "Well, Aragorn… whatever you did to him…." He trailed off, shaking his head, partially in regret, and partially in amusement. "I congratulate you, Aragorn. Not only have you have you blinded the Prince of Mirkwood, you have blinded the one who truly loves you."

Aragorn widened his eyes in shock, and then he looked down at the Elf in his arms for confirmation of Boromir's words. "Legolas… is this true?"

Legolas closed his unseeing eyes, hating the way Aragorn's voice was so soft and gentle. Not wanting to admit to his feelings, Legolas focused on the literally blinding pain behind his eyes. He felt the welcoming darkness envelope him in both mind and body, and prayed that he would see Aragorn when he awoke.

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Notes - The title of this story is Na laetha geal M'óige, which is Gaelic for `the bright days of my youth'. This chapter's title, Ouji-sama no moya, is Japanese for `prince of the mist'.