Fan Fiction ❯ Tên Mûel ❯ A glimpse of trust ( Chapter 5 )
Title: Tên Mûel
Authors: Makiko Igami (makikoigami@yahoo.de) & My-chan (My-chan@gmx.de)
Archive: http://www.yaoi.rulestheweb.com
http://www.geocities.com/lirimaer8/inde x.html
http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/src.php?auth=58906
http://w ww.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1231150
http://www.efanfiction.net/a uthors.php?no=2916
Category: AU, RPG
Rating: this chapter... PG? May go up soon... *is getting poked by My-chan: "NC-17!"* *sweatdrops*
Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas, others as well *glances over to Elladan & Elrohir*
Warnings: Slash, OOC (of Arwen mostly), slavery, angst...
Spoilers: A few... not really as I don't remember much of the book, just that Aragorn became King of Gondor in the end and that Arwen was his Queen.
Summary: After seven years of marriage, the excitement of being together has vanished from Aragorn's and Arwen's marriage... maybe a present might change this.
Disclaimer: You know the deal don't you? J.R.R. Tolkien invented them, and if we owned them, we would be related to him, but since neither I nor My-chan are... we just play around with them, toy with their minds and use them for fun only. <insert evil laughter here>
Notes&Comments: This was written by me and My-chan as a rpg and ever since Pretending And Being, a wild mix of German and English, we have this nearly "exhibitionistic" need for feedback from various places. ^^;; So please be gentle.
Now on to the story itself. I know that this may look like a serious Arwen-bashing story, but please be reassured that we don't mean to cause any harm to anybody who likes her. She is just for causes of story-telling such a bitch here. ^^;
The Sindarin we used (and transformed for ourselves) comes from a little program called Dragon Flame (which I always think that it is this game I don't want to play unless I know I am on my own), but since it didn't have all the words we needed, we had to make them up. If you have any questions feel free to send an email to any of us... and hope that we still know what we wanted to say. ^^;;;;
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When the Woodelf saw that the men moved away he glanced around to make sure that they were really gone. He was pretty sure that Aragorn didn't want to hurt him, but that didn't mean that the other Humans shared his opinion.
Still looking to the ground he only saw his master from the corner of his eyes, but that quick glance was enough for him to make him feel a little safer when he saw the Human's soft gaze on him.
Slowly he took a few steps into the shown direction and when he heard Aragorn following him he slightly sped up, walking towards the stairs and then moving up to the king's chambers. The Woodelf felt awkward, with the Human following him, but he tried to keep his pace slow and even, although he felt more like running.
Finally they reached the room he'd been spending the night in, and found the doors open and the servants gone. They hat placed the plates on the table, tidied the bed and put his hand ties next to the chain at the wall.
Legolas tore his gaze away from there and looked at the table. As soon as he did his stomach started to growl, even louder than the Dwarf's had and he quickly turned his head away, bowing it down again.
The walk back to his chambers was more uneventful than Aragorn had thought. Something that had happened down there in the hall seemed to have changed his attitude. If not so much that he trusted Humans, but at least so far that he trusted Aragorn a little more than before.
As they walked up the stairs in silence Aragorn thought back to that tiny moment when he had touched the Elf's bare skin, to the tingle that had went through his body. He pondered why he felt like blushing when his wife had addressed him afterwards, why it felt like cheating on her for the moment this feeling had lasted. Legolas was a man and while Elladan and Elrohir might have tried to involve him in their "games" when he was younger he wasn't the one to look out for men as possible companions in bed. He preferred the softness of a woman in his bed, in particular that of his wife. But watching the smooth motions of the Woodelf in front of him awakened some kind of longing he could only compare with his longing for the fresh air of the woods when he was in a very long and tiring council.
He only snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a loud and low grumbling, coming strangely from the one in front of him. Snapping his eyes open, he saw that his servants had prepared breakfast during their absence.
Ignoring the low grumble coming from his own stomach he put a hand reassuringly on the Elf's shoulder, smirking slightly. "Let's start the day with a good breakfast." He hauled the lighter Legolas forward and made him sit down in the chair that had its back turned towards the hook to which the Elf had been tied the previous day. He himself sat down in the chair facing Legolas, closer towards the door.
Quite startled Legolas let himself being pushed down to sit in the chair, the table with the food now right in front of him, which made his stomach growl even louder. The Elf's eyes roamed over the plates, trying to make out what all this food was. He saw the bread he'd been eating yesterday and quickly turned his gaze away. He wouldn't eat it again if he didn't have to, that much was for sure.
Then his eyes caught sight of a bowl with fruits. He blinked while he stared at the rather big collection of apples, oranges, cherries, pears, peaches, nuts and strawberries. Swallowing, Legolas quickly reached out and snatched a handful of nuts and an apple, before he leaned back in his chair and drew his legs up in automatic manner, to have them as close to his body as possible. Something he got used to over the last month.
He set the nuts on the table right in front of him and took big bite from the delicious smelling apple. While chewing the stuff he took one of the nuts in his other hand and cracked it with two fingers. Legolas also stuffed the crumbs of the nut in his mouth and didn't really notice that the Human was still sitting on the other side of the table.
The fruits tasted just too good, and the Woodelf almost felt like a king himself, now that he finally was able to fill his stomach in a regular manner, instead of getting a little bit to eat every once in a while.
The man watched Legolas closely how he inspected the food in front of him, noticing how he turned his gaze away with a very obvious shimmer of disgust washing over his face. He made a mental note not to offer this kind of bread to Legolas anymore and watched with a silent smile how the Elf made a grab for the nuts and the apples, almost beaming like a little child who found a lollipop.
Aragorn, who had no objections towards the bread cut of a slice and put some butter on it, when he heard the sound of nuts being cracked. He looked up, just to see Legolas popped the heart of one nut into his already filled mouth.
His eyes went wide with surprise since he didn't expect the Elf to have the strength to crack nuts with his bare fingers, especially not in his weakened state. It seemed as if he had underestimated the remaining strength of the Elf. Which made him wonder once again how it was possible for simple Humans to catch an Elf like Legolas.
He poured some milk into his cup, knowing that it came from the royal cows his cook was quite proud of. The Hobbit always praised the succulence of his precious cattle, especially when he was about to prepare a feast with steaks. But they also gave the sweetest milk in the whole kingdom and as soon as Aragorn figured that fact out, he had made it his favorite morning drink.
The white liquid poured into his chalice and he couldn't wait to wet his throat with it. Placing the carafe back to its place on the table, it was only a heartbeat until he had the cup on his lips, drinking the sweet and still warm milk hungrily. So when he had finished his drink, he set the cup down on the table again, letting out a deep sigh as he wiped the milk-beard from his real beard.
Meanwhile Legolas had finished his apple, not even sparing the core of the fruit and continued cracking the nuts. But the strength in his fingers slowly faded and when he cracked the last one, his fingers already hurt quite badly. Plus the peel seemed to get thicker and thicker with every nut, and this last one was rather sharp as well, causing the Elf's thumb to bleed.
"Ouch..." Legolas winced slightly and stuck the red finger in his mouth, sucking it carefully. The Woodelf slowly looked up though when his nose smelled something sweet. It was unfamiliar, but yet it made his hunger rise again.
He blinked a few times when he saw the origin of that smell. It was a bottle with some white liquid in it. He didn't know anything like that, but whatever it was, it smelled really good.
Aragorn was about to pour himself a second cup of milk when he saw the curious and hungry glance from the Elf at the other side of the table. He saw him sucking on his thumb as if he had cut himself, but as soon as he saw the amount of broken peels on the table in front of the Elf... probably all cracked by his hand... he guessed that it was now most doubtlessly cut.
Noticing in which direction the glance went, Aragorn grabbed the carafe again and started pouring some milk into a glass, pushing it over to Legolas afterwards. There wasn't another chalice as his servants hadn't thought that he would feed a slave like a guest. Aragorn had to tell them to bring a set of two breakfast utensils every morning as long as Legolas was staying with them.
He looked at the Woodelf expectantly, encouraging him to drink it with a nod of his head.
Legolas grabbed the glass slowly and carefully without removing the thumb from his mouth though. He lifted it up and sniffled before he finally released his bleeding finger and took a small sip of the white liquid. After he tasted the sweet stuff and noticed just how good it was, he emptied the glass quite fast, licking the remains from his upper lip.
Even though it was just a liquid, it was very satiating and made his body feel warmer from inside. And he wanted more. The Elf shyly glanced at the almost empty bottle, not wanting to take it from his master, since it was his food. But he was still hungry, and now that he had started eating he had to fill his stomach until it was satisfied.
"Puêl en rem?" he peeped quietly, once again throwing a puppy-eye-look at his master, without even knowing it.
Aragorn smiled. He didn't know if Woodelves knew cows and their milk, but Legolas obviously didn't. And then he was giving him this look again, this I'm-a-lost-puppy-take-me-home-with-you-look that was able to break the bravest man's heart if he didn't fulfill his wish. So Aragorn shared the last bit of milk in the carafe willingly with the Elf, and then made a move to call his servants for a new one.
The servants had expected a call like that and were already carrying a full bottle with them, placing it on the table without saying any other word, although they send curious glances towards the actual slave sitting at the table. But they ushered out of the room as quickly as they came.
One of them wasn't as lucky as the others though and was held back at his sleeve by Aragorn. "Bring me another two carafes please. It seems that I am not the only one who likes milk..." he said quietly and only meant for the servants ears. Said servant nodded and was out of the room the moment the King released his garment.
Legolas made a mental note what the stuff was called in the language of the Humans, even though he was quite sure he'd break up his tongue if he tried to say the word. Waiting for the Human to fill his glass again, the Elf took the chance to study his face closer.
His expression was soft and his eyes weren't as stabbing as those of the other men, the men who caught him. This one was completely different. Plus he was talking Elvish, something the Elf would never have expected from one of these creatures.
All those aspects made Legolas feel rather safe in his presence. He was still afraid, yes. But his fear seemed to fade away with every single moment going by. And then there was something else. His name. The female Elf had called him Estel. Hope.
Emptying the glass once more, the slave pondered if he should ask or not. This Human was his master after all, and he as a slave wasn't allowed to talk without being asked. Well... he had already done that, and it seemed like Aragorn didn't mind. And he had said something about not liking to have an Elf as a slave, and he didn't treat him like one either.
Setting down the glass Legolas slightly cleared his throat.
"Naá he can Estel?"
Aragorn had just raised his own cup to his lips, savoring in the taste of the milk when he heard Legolas ask a question. He was quite sure that this had cost the Elf quite some effort as he was surely trained not to ask his "master" any questions or even talk when he was not asked to. At least if you judged by his previous behavior.
He assumed that Legolas had understood the word that was his name, and that it was literally eating up inside why an Elf would call him - a Human - "hope", as in his opinion Humans were probably worse than Orcs.
Slowly he set down his chalice and fixed his eyes on the Elf.
"She calls me Estel because that is the name my foster father gave me... He put his hope in me to renew the friendship of Elves, Humans and Dwarves, become King of Gondor... to bring peace... restore something of the past..."
He trailed off as his voice got quieter in embarrassment, thinking that he didn't deserve being called "hope" for all these reasons. He was the hope of the Dunedain, the lost heir of Isildur... but although he had accomplished what he was expected, he still wasn't sure if everything was as good as it should be.
Legolas tilted his head while he listened to the explanation and his eyes darkened. It was wishful thinking to hope that Elves and Humans could become close friends again. Probably impossible, and even though Aragorn's intentions were pure he sincerely doubted that he would manage this.
Not really sure how he should express what he was thinking, the Elf slightly turned around and gazed at the chain. As long as Humans caught Elves and sold them for a high price, they would never be friends again.
Legolas turned his gaze back towards his master and smiled at him shyly. It would be wonderful if it could be like it was thousands of years ago. Without all the fear and hatred.
"Estel," he whispered and his smile widened just a bit, still almost imperceptible.
Aragorn looked up from his grim thinking as he heard Legolas' voice saying his Elven name. He noticed the faint smile on the Elf's lips, along with the wishful thinking he wanted to read into it. He too hoped that Elves and Humans could be friends and he knew that he was friends with the Elves, but it was clear that his position was special... maybe he was hope because of that. As long as Humans caught both Elves and other Humans and sold them as slaves... there would never be peace at all.
He stared back at Legolas, studying his features and wondering why he would call him "hope", too. He had no reason, too as he was the one who held him captive right now. Unwanted, but it was still the man who was taking care of him. The question "why" was nagging on him so much that he couldn't restrain himself anymore and asked it out loud, hidden behind a bit of other curiosity though.
"Are you going to call me "hope" as well?"
Legolas' eyes trailed off while he had another struggle within himself. On one hand there was his training, and he was supposed to address anyone as 'master' especially the one in front of him. On the other hand there was his desperate longing for freedom, peace and well, hope.
This Human was his hope, and probably his only chance to ever get home again. With him there was a little bit of light that slowly came back into his life. And it grew. From second to second.
"Nín estel", he whispered and looked to the ground, somewhat ashamed to call his master that, but it was what he felt. This man had brought a little hope back into his body.
Said man took his time to study Legolas from where he sat, his mood changing from embarrassment over shame to amusement back to embarrassment. So he had managed to get through to Legolas with what he said, but this was almost a tad too much. It wasn't for the fact that he didn't want the Elf to trust him, he just didn't want Legolas to place too much hope into him, hope that he was not sure if he could fulfill it.
Not knowing what he was supposed to say, he assumed that he should feel honored, although he was pretty shocked right now.
"If you want to call me that... it's okay," he finally said. "I'd prefer Aragorn though..."
He was interrupted by another servant who knocked on the door politely before he walked in.
"My king, your duties demand you... Boromir wants to know what this letter you send him last night is supposed to mean. He's waiting for you in the throne room."
Aragorn's eyes narrowed slightly at the whispered news. He wasn't finished with his breakfast yet, and he hadn't even changed his clothes, something that he needed to do.
"Tell him I'll be with him in about half an hour. And send somebody to get me fresh clothing," he ordered, whispering as well. When the man had exited the room he turned his gaze back to Legolas, sighing a bit.
"I have to attend my duties... I'm sorry, but I have to leave although I would have preferred to talk to you a little longer, Legolas."
The Elf nodded.
"En henio."
Of course Aragorn couldn't stay with him the whole day, and somehow Legolas was also glad about that, because he actually wanted to be alone and rest. The tiredness already started to creep back into his body; one night of sleep just hadn't been enough to compensate the enormous lack of sleep during the past weeks.
The Elf held a hand over his mouth and tired hard to suppress the yawn, but didn't quite manage. He could have just lain down on the ground and slept immediately. But he knew he had to stay awake. This was still a strange place and if he was going to sleep, then only with his back against the wall, or probably even two walls.
His thoughts being interrupted as the door was opened again, Legolas turned his head to see who was entering and saw the king's servants, bringing new clothes for him, as ordered. One of them had another package of clothes and lay them down separately from the others.
The same servant bowed low before the King and said, "These clothes are sent by the Queen for your slave, your royalty. She sends her love and respect and hopes you have fun with your present."
The rage that Aragorn had controlled and calmed down so that he could almost forget it came now back with an almost blinding intensity. With a very grim face, he stalked over to the second pile of clothes, that didn't look like his. He picked them up carefully and watched how a green silken gown unfolded itself before his narrowing eyes. It was a beautiful gown and Aragorn remembered seeing it on Arwen a few years ago on a banquet for guests from Ithilien, when she had her phase liking green.
Aragorn raised his head again, trying to soften his glare, but he didn't quite succeed. "It seems as if my wife has developed a strange sense of humor..."
He threw the gown back onto the bed and stalked over to his wardrobe, pushing surprised servants out of his way. After some serious and deep roaming through the contents he finally brought up a pair of gray leggings and a leather shirt, both looking quite outworn.
"You can have those; they might not look good, but are very comfortable. Or you can wear the gown my wife chose for you. It's your choice."
Legolas could feel the anger within his master rise again and would have backed away, if it wasn't for the chair he still sat in, to hold him where he was. He didn't understand what the servants had told him, but for some reason, the Elf was pretty sure that he didn't want to know.
His eyes widened though when the Human lifted up a dress. Not that it looked bad, but he could guess that it was meant for him. The slave almost winced when Aragorn looked up and when he saw his hard features, and said something about his wife that didn't really sound nice. He was mad at her again, most likely for sending the gown. And Legolas surely wouldn't wear such a thing. He'd rather wear a potato bag - like he had to over the last weeks - or anything like that.
Watching his master carefully as he walked over to the closet, Legolas thought how he could deny wearing the dress, without getting himself in trouble because of the disobedience, as he saw him searching through his own clothes. The Elf raised his eyebrow in question. Didn't his servants just bring him something to wear?
But then he saw him turn around with some old looking clothes, offering them to his slave. And without second thinking, Legolas extended his arm and pointed towards the leggings and the shirt in Aragorn's hands.
Aragorn's anger had cooled down while he had the satisfaction of digging through his clothes and he was now calm enough to accept every choice from Legolas. But it didn't surprise him to see the Elf pointing towards the worn leggings without hesitation.
"Very well, you can have it then," the man said and smirked over his little triumph over Arwen, before putting the clothes onto the back of a chair and turning back to his servants. "Tell my wife she shall get this gown changed... get one of her maidens to resew it into a tunic for a man if she wants a man to wear it." The servant who had delivered the message of Arwen bowed low again and nodded in acknowledgement. "I will send her your message. Do you need any help changing your clothes?"
Aragorn shook his head no. He was able to put on his suit of armor in less time than any of his servants could, thus he should be able to change his clothes himself. The servant tilted his head forward and ushered the others out of the room, taking one step after the other backwards, his eyes never leaving Aragorn's shoes. The man was about to ask if he had stepped into something the previous day, but that was the way his servants acted around the King of Gondor. Seven years and he still wasn't used to it.
Sighing deeply he started to undo the knots of his over-shirt.
To be continued...
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*looks pleadingly at the reader*