Fan Fiction ❯ Tên Mûel ❯ Fury ( Chapter 7 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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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Talking with Boromir had been quite tiring and Aragorn just wanted to crawl back into his bed - or rather crawl into his bed at all - as he remembered that he had neglected one of his oldest and dearest friends and now the day had come when Gimli had to leave. Reluctantly Aragorn shared one last meal with the good-natured Dwarf, who laughed and told his host that he shouldn't look so crestfallen.

"I know that a king has his duties. Your wife entertained me well enough, my dear friend Aragorn. She may be an Elf, but she can gird up her loins and even entertain a Dwarf like me!" he boasted, until he noticed the raised eyebrow of the man. Blinking he noticed his faux-pas and blushed under his red beard. "I mean, you are quite an entertainer yourself, but I understand you have to obey your duties first..."

"My dear friend, you don't have to correct yourself, I know that you have just the purest of opinions about me and my wife and I am glad to hear that you enjoyed your visit here. I am just disappointed that I couldn't find more time to spend with you. I am sorry," Aragorn said smiling although slight sadness was tingling in his voice.

The Dwarf fixed him with a stern glance. "Don't be sorry for being king, Aragorn. You are the best man for this job, may it be as tiring and boring as it is, but I know nobody nobler and wiser than you, my friend," Gimli said and raised his chalice to Aragorn, grinning merrily. "And don't you dare to deny it!"

The man simply blushed. He felt not worthy of all the praise people were sending him, not if such things as slavery and abuse were happening in his kingdom. Lost in thoughts he couldn't even really enjoy the company of Gimli.

With a very heavy heart he said farewell to Gimli as the Dwarf left Minas Tirith back towards his home in the mountains, leaving a very brooding King of Gondor behind.

Aragorn went to the stables to talk to his horses and get a clear mind. A few strokes with the curry comb over his chestnut mare's back, working his tired muscles should be sufficient to rejuvenate him at least a bit.

He passed the gates of the stables and was greeted by the sight of Rhÿn, an Elven-looking half-blood of at least a few hundred years in age. The raven-haired man shot the king a silver glare as if he was a mere stranger, which oddly managed to lighten up the man's heart. If there were still people who didn't worship him just because he wore the insignia of the king of Gondor, he was still alive. And if he was alive, he could still change certain things.

He nodded towards the groom. "Rhÿn, it's me. I want to take care of Diana."

Assuming that the glare of the half-Elf's face had already been there on the day of his birth, Aragorn took the curry comb and walked over to the box the chestnut-haired mare stood in. She snorted happily, recognizing him even after one week during which the Human didn't have the time to stop by. He smiled and patted her cheek lovingly as he stepped inside her narrow home. The hey was as clean as if it was just cut in the fields, but since winter was only a few weeks away, it had to be just changed. Rhÿn may be a grumpy person but he took good care of the horses in the King's stables.

Diana snorted contentedly as the rough brush massaged her flanks, Aragorn's arm was moving steadily on its own while the dark cloud over his mind got lighter and lighter until it was only a small rain cloud that could be chased away by the right wind. He felt so much lighter in his mood that he grinned at the head-groom and then walked back to the castle, the smile still gracing his lips.

While he was fully occupied with brushing Diana's hide Aragorn hadn't noticed how late and dark it had gotten. He couldn't quite believe that another day was already over again. Another day during which he hadn't had the time for himself and just lived for the good of his kingdom. Being king was hard sometimes.

"Well, at least I spoke with Arwen today," the man thought out loud as he stood in front of his chambers, about to open the door. A day with a fight between them was better than a day on which they didn't talk at all, and this happened quite too frequently lately.

But before Aragorn could ponder about this more, had opened the door and walked into his chambers, to see Legolas lying on the cold stone floor, apparently sleeping. The man frowned. He remembered that he had allowed him to use everything in this room, so he had guessed that the Elf would sit in one of the chairs or already be asleep...

He walked closer to the Elf, and what he couldn't see in the dim light of his chambers before, but saw now, made him clench his jaws. The entire light mood he had managed to build up while currying Diana's hide was darkened again by a pitch-black cloud. One or the other bolt of lightening crashed down as well as he tested the dark dried liquid on the floor. Holding the elegant chin in his hands he turned Legolas' face around and his eyes narrowed to see a cut right over the eyebrow and on his lips.

Biting down on his lower lip so that he didn't curse out loud, he wiped away as much blood as he could with his thumb.

Legolas senses slowly returned to him when somebody carefully lifted up his swollen face. He stirred and moaned lowly at the burning pain caused by the touch on one of the cuts. His eyelids fluttered for a few moments, until he was able to blink slightly. The Elf's sight was still blurred, causing him to see his surroundings only as vague shadows.

He hardly managed to lift his gaze enough to be able to look at the Human next to him, but when he did panic filled his heart for he mistook him as the servant who had put him back in chains. Legolas bit his lip to suppress any further sounds of pain as tried to move away. He knew this man had been awfully mad at him, and he didn't want to give him any reasons to hurt him again.

"Nícaer…" he whispered lowly and almost inaudible, while he tried to wrap his arms around his upper body. The Elf was shivering with cold - for he had been lying on the cold floor all day - and fear.

Aragorn stopped moving his thumb, stopped every movement at all as he saw that he couldn't just wipe away the clumps of dried blood. Also the Elf was shivering both with fear and cold, and there was nothing that the man could do against it from his position. So he did the first thing that came into his mind: He stood up and retrieved a sheet from his bed - namely the one he had already used to cover up the Elf the previous day - and threw it over the shivering Elf.

Then he left the bedchambers and called his servants to get some hot water into his tub, food and something to drink. Frustrated and furious as he was, he only remembered at the last moment to call for milk instead of wine... he also asked for honey to put it into warmed milk, hoping that it would relax the frightened Elf.

After that was done, the only thing he could do was sit down in the armchair in front of the mantelpiece and wait for either the Elf to calm down or the servants to announce that the bath was ready.

As soon as the blanket was thrown over him to cover his body, Legolas realized that this man wasn't the servant from earlier that day. He then heard the dark voice speak and recognized his master, although he sounded quite pissed. Probably because he had stained the floor.

But somehow the thought of having pissed off his master didn't frighten the slave, for he had a vague feeling, that he wouldn't hurt him. Slowly, Legolas calmed his body down. He was still shivering, but the fear subsided and only left him hungry, hurt and cold.

It didn't take the servants long to fill the king's tube with hot water and to bring the demanded items. They put the food and the milk on the table and left as quietly as they came. Only one of them stepped closer to his king and bowed down to whisper:

"The tube is ready, your royalty. Do you need any help?"

Aragorn looked up where he had been brooding in his chair, staring at Legolas and then again at nothing.

"No, thank you. I can handle it on my own. You may go now," he murmured back. The servant nodded and ushered the others out of the room. This left Aragorn staring at the hurt Elf again.

With a deep sigh he stood up and walked over to the corner where Legolas sat underneath the warming blanket. He made a move to scoop him up into his arms, and then noticed that the chain was connected to his collar again. Frowning he looked at the new lock, examining it with his eyes and found out that he couldn't open it with his bare hands. He needed the key.

His frown deepened as he saw that the lock looked like one of Gimli's handiwork.

"Who did this?" he asked, his voice silent and serious.

Legolas looked up as his master kneeled next to him. He saw him extending his arms but withdrawing them again when he saw the chain. The Elf didn't understand the question the Human asked him, but it was easy to guess. Or at least he thought that he got the meaning.

"Buionâ", he whispered since he had the feeling that if he talked any louder his head would explode. However, his master asking him who had done this to him, made him feel safer around him at the same time, and wiped the pain from his thoughts, since it meant that he didn't approve of it.

Aragorn eyes narrowed. So one of his servants did this to him, connected the chain back to his collar. And as they all thought that a slave was something that had to obey everyone's order, they didn't care if they hurt the Elf or not. Somehow that made him even more furious than what Arwen had done to him.

He walked over to the hook in the wall, trying to find out if he could remove the chain from this side and then remembered that there had been a little key in an envelope on his desk today. Searching he found another lock, but this was just harder to access.

"You think you can remember his face?" the man asked, still in his business voice as he fumbled to get the lock into his hands.

The Elf ears followed his master's every move through the room, since he didn't dare moving his head too much. It still pounded like somebody was using it as a drum and Legolas didn't want to increase his pain. He felt some slight tugging on his necklace and realized that the man was trying to get him loose.

"Sû", he whispered. He couldn't possibly forget that face again. Neither the ones of the men who caught him. He would remember them forever, even though he wished for nothing more than to forget those horrible countless hours.

Legolas winced, when his master finally got the lock open and the chain fell to the ground, rattling loudly.

Somehow the loud clattering of the chain sounded great in Aragorn's ears since he only wanted to hit something, kill something or destroy something; he wasn't that choosy right now. He glanced over to the Elf and nodded.

"Good, then I will find the guilty one," he said as he kneeled down in front of him again. He frowned and then tugged at the blanket, removing it from the Elf's body, quite harshly. Producing a knife from his boots he cut open the knots on the front side of the leather-shirt, tugging it open and peeling it off the bruised shoulders. He proceeded in the same manner with the worn leggings, tucking them off of slender hips.

Throwing the blanket back over the shivering body Aragorn finally scooped the Elf up in his arms. "They say that you are mine, so I will make them not to touch what is mine," he added grimly as he carried Legolas from the bedchambers into the bathroom, with the long chain rustling loudly over the stone floor, only muffled when it slid over the carpet.

Legolas held still when his master pulled out a knife and started to cut his clothes open. He could sense great anger from the Human and he decided it was better not to move at all. Whatever he wanted to do, the Elf couldn't stop him anyway.

The slave gasped though, when the man started to cut the trousers off his legs and left him wearing only his worn-out loincloth. But one moment later, the sheet covered his bare body again and he felt himself being lifted up. Legolas rested his head heavily against the broad shoulder of his master, pressing his ear slightly against him, to cover at least one of his sensitive ears from the loud noise of the chain.

They soon reached the bathroom, and Legolas opened up his eyes again, when he could smell the sweet scent of Elven soap. He blinked as he could see the full tube and looked up at his master quizzically, not really sure what to think.

Aragorn didn't stop at the entrance of the now steam-filled room and just walked straight on until he reached the tub. There he dumped his bundle unceremoniously into the hot water, not caring whether the blanket or the loincloth got wet or not.

He knew he had to calm down a bit, but his Human mind refused to do so, thus his movements were a little harsher than usual, and he just yanked the blanket away before he rolled up his sleeves, grabbed a sponge and started to clean the dried blood away from Legolas' pale skin.

Burning with anger inside, a cold, grim mask settled down on his features, a mask he usually wore when he had to debate with chancellors from other countries, who demanded even more foolish things than those who only wrote letters to him, or if somebody tried to convince him to start a war with some other country out of irrational reasons. Those people probably have never been in a war and didn't know about the pain it brought... they just thought about their own advantage, which was something the King of Gondor resented.

In his fury he rubbed one of the cuts open with the sponge and cursed silently as he saw a trickle of blood starting to seep out of the wound. He started to dab the cut softer than before, begging it silently to stop bleeding, as it hadn't been his intention to open those wounds he just wanted to clean.

Legolas gasped and grabbed the brim of the tub for support as his master let him fall into the hot water. In the first moment it felt way too hot on his cold and bruised skin, and it burned, but the feeling slowly subsided and left the pleasant feeling of his body warming up.

The Human's movements were still erratic and rough and when the Elf glanced at him, he saw a coldness in his expression that scared him and made him look away again immediately. He felt the sponge work over his bruised skin and bit his lower lip to muffle any sounds that may escape his throat.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping his master would calm down before he reached the cuts in his face. But his hope faded as Aragorn began to work over his swollen face. Legolas winced slightly at the burning pain shot through his body but remained silent. He could smell his now fresh blood on his body and heard it dropping into the hot water.

Finally he couldn't hold back a low whimper as the Human kept working on the cuts, but yet he didn't dare moving. His master was so filled with anger that he didn't know what he would do to him, even though he promised not to hurt him. He already had.

"Please... stop bleeding," Aragorn begged mumbling, still dabbing at the cut he had scrubbed open. He had to remind himself that Legolas wasn't a horse who liked to have its hide scratched with stronger motions than one could usually give to them over a long time. Sorrow rose in his chest as the cut didn't want to stop bleeding and he winced inwardly with every twitch of Legolas. Finally he gave up cleaning the wound and dropped the sponge in the hot water, still staring at the bleeding cut.

He bit his lower lip and bowed his head in personal defeat. Everything he touched seemed to go terribly wrong today, or at least not the way he wanted it to be. And Legolas had to suffer from his bad mood. "Forgive me."

The Elf took a deep breath as the touch disappeared from his face, and opening his eyes again he blinked away the tears, caused by the stabbing pain. He slightly turned his head only to gasp slightly at the scene before him. His master looked too wrecked up as if he was going to break down any second. And he was the one who caused all of that. He really wasn't a good slave; he caused his master nothing but trouble.

Not sure whether he was allowed to touch him or not, Legolas decided to leave the Human alone. Whatever bothered him like this, he surely wouldn't need him to be a comfort. So the Elf lowered his hand to fish for the sponge in the already quite dirty water. He found it pretty quick and continued washing himself with clumsy and weak movements.

After he managed to clean his face from most of the dried liquid he reached out for the soap to wash his blood soaked hair. He failed miserably though. There must have been another cut, covered by his hair, and when he touched it, pain struck him and he winced, causing the soap to slip out of his fingers. It fell to the ground and slithered right before his master's feet.

Aragorn had sat down on his behind, his elbows on his knees and was staring at the tips of his boots, but was not really looking at them. He didn't even blink as he was lost in dark thoughts and self-pity. The feeling that he couldn't do anything right was still clouding his mind as he heard the Elf wince and a white rectangular thing bumped against his left boot. He frowned and blinked and then noticed that it was the soap he used when he bathed. Blinking again and he looked up to see Legolas holding his head, trying to sooth a place underneath his blood-soaked hair, from which the man could see a little bright red trickle rinsing down.

He narrowed his eyes a bit before he picked up the soap and sat down on his knees in front of the tub again. Next to it stood a copper-plate and this was what Aragorn picked up now and filled it with water from the tub.

"Shield your eyes," he said and waited for the Elf to do so. When he finally did it, the man let the water flow over the blond hair.

Legolas put his left hand over his eyes and closed them, waiting for the water to wash away the lather and brown crumbs of dried blood. A few moments later he raised his hand once more to feel how much more scab there still was on his head and found that most of it was gone now.

Carefully the Elf let his hand roam over his bruised right shoulder, downwards to his hip. He winced slightly as he touched the throbbing skin and withdrew his hand to carefully touch his face. The new opened cut had stopped bleeding, and even though it still hurt, Legolas could feel the pain slowly subsiding.

The water was already getting lukewarm and since his upper body was out of the water, the Elf felt the coldness creep back into his body and he shivered slightly.

Aragorn winced as Legolas did, but put the plate away in silence and then moved to stand on his feet. Taking the towel from a chair next to the tub, he encouraged the Elf to stand up and get out of the now almost chilling water. He tried to look not too frightening or frightened; he wanted to show self-confidence and sincerity, to make the other more comfortable around him again, despite the pain he had caused.

Legolas slowly rose to a stand, grabbing the brim once more for support, since his weak legs threatened to give in any second. He could sense his master felt very uncomfortable, caused by the incident a few minutes ago, and he was awfully tense. Yet he was almost smiling at his slave, making him a little safer again, even though the anger was still present.

The Elf slowly stepped out of the tub, moving quite slowly due to his aching head and body. He just wanted to make the last step towards the waiting towel, to wrap it around his shivering body, when he lost balance, stumbled and fell forward, right into the Human's open arms.

Even before he could fathom what was happening, Aragorn found himself with an armful of an Elf and out of a reflex he wrapped his arms around the slender body. During the impact he had to let go of one corner of the towel and while he was desperately clutching onto the other one with his right hand, his left had landed on a very firm, but still emaciated buttocks. The only thing that prevented him from touching bare skin was the very thin and very soaked loincloth.

Blushing a bright and highly embarrassed red, Aragon tried to shift his position so that he wasn't touching Legolas where he knew the Elf wouldn't want to be touched, but he was lying so heavily on him, that he could only make a step backwards... but if he did that he would surely loose his balance and land on his backside again... with Legolas lying on top of him. And if the current situation wasn't embarrassing enough that one would definitely top it.

Legolas gasped as he felt Aragorn's arms closing around him, and the other man's chest against his own. He held his breath and didn't dare to move for a second, since he was pretty sure that any movement would cause his master to lose balance as well. After he regained control over his own body, the Elf slightly leaned backwards, he himself being quite tense now since he was fully aware where the Human's hands rested on him.

The slave swallowed tightly and another shiver ran down his spine.

"Ni…nícaer", he murmured lowly, and wanted to push himself away from the man, but neither his arms nor his legs followed his commands, and the Elf clutched his master's shirt as his knees threatened to give in again.

As soon as Legolas leaned back a bit and gave Aragorn the little bit of space he needed to move them both in a much less embarrassing position he moved the hand from the Elf's buttocks up to the small of his back and took the other end of the towel that was now hanging down on the other's back. Letting Legolas use his chest as something to hold on while he wrapped the towel gently around his body, almost tenderly, he tried his best not to let the rough fabric rub against the wound of the arrow he remembered seeing earlier this morning.

"Im na nícaer," Aragorn replied, feeling his anger being suppressed by the embarrassment. He didn't really intend to touch Legolas' bare skin again, although he was surprised to feel that little spark again, the one that hit him when his fingers had unintentionally slipped underneath the thin tunic this morning. And to say that he didn't like that little spark would be a lie, as it was making him feel young again, not this mature king who was carrying the burden called responsibility for an entire nation on his shoulders.

He tugged the towel around the slender hips and frowned as Legolas squirmed to the right and it was only then that he saw the full damage that was done. His eyebrow twitched, but he kept his temper under control and just simply put the towel back as carefully as he could.

"Let's sit in front of the fireplace. It will warm you up."

Legolas noticed the change in the other man. He was now moving smoother, and calmer. The hand soon disappeared from the rather uncomfortable spot it had been lying on, and the Human even apologized… most likely for hurting him. But the Elf didn't really care about that anymore. The pain had subsided and somehow, the touch on his bare skin felt good.

It was a warm and gentle touch, like the one earlier today, so very unlike the touches he had experienced from other Humans. So very unlike any touch he had ever experienced...

The thought was disturbed as another slight pain made him squirm when the fabric of the towel rubbed over the graze on his hip. Legolas could see his master's expression darken again, but it was only for a moment, until it disappeared again, and the towel was carefully wrapped around his waist.

Legolas simply nodded to the suggestion and was just about to let go of the shirt he was still holding tightly, when he remembered how his legs had betrayed him last time and he clutched it even tighter. If he let go of the Human now, he'd surely fall, and he didn't have the strength to soften his impact on the rather hard stone floor.

Another violent shiver ran down his spine, and he swallowed tightly, fighting another battle deep inside. Until finally his courage and need for help won over the fear and taught behaviors.

"Hêris… en tulu…?" he asked quietly.

Since Aragorn had relied on the Elf to hold himself up using his shirt as something to hold on, he had reluctantly removed his hands completely from the abused body. But as Legolas ask him for help, he simply nodded and put his hands back on his shoulder, sweeping the Elf off of his feet again and carried him back to the fireplace, just like he carried him into the bathroom.

The long chain, which had been ignored while the man had to vent his anger and frustration on the poor victim, was now rattling loud again as they moved over stone and carpet. And again he could feel how Legolas pressed his ear against his shoulder, probably to shield the noise away from his sensitive organs. So with every step he made, the sounds of the chain on stone seemed to get louder and louder until he almost started to wince.

At the particular moment when they reached the place before the mantelpiece, Aragorn sighed almost out aloud. Gently he sat the Elf down on the thick and warm ram-hide where he preferred to sit when he was on his own. The flames in the fireplace were already bristling in various shades of red and orange, shooting up and blazing almost with glee as the Human picked up the other end of the chain and put it back to where it belonged. It took him all this courage to do this; facing an army of ten thousands of Orcs was easier than doing this to Legolas again.

"I'm sorry to do this... but if I didn't do it, they would most likely use that as a reason to do something like that to you again," he said full of sorrow as he turned back to the Elf.

Legolas simply nodded. He understood the reason very well, and he himself preferred to be chained, instead of being beaten up. Even if he intended to struggle to avoid being chained again, he couldn't for his body felt weak and sapped. The Elf didn't even hear his stomach, as it started to growl when the scent of the delicious milk and the food reached his nose. Just like he didn't notice the smell either.

He just sat there at the fireplace, a loose towel around his waist and tried to sneak as much heat as possible to warm his shivering body. The soaked loincloth was still sticking to his skin and it had gotten even colder than the rest, leaving a very unpleasant feeling on his body.

But Legolas didn't really want to take it off. It and the towel were the only things that kept him from being totally naked.

Aragorn walked over to where the servants had put the milk and put some of it into a little pot and placed it close to the fire, using the heat of the flames as a little hearth. Also he put down the bowl with fruits in front of the blond and handed him a few already peeled nuts he had told the servants to get him because he knew he wasn't able to watch it again how Legolas cracked them open with his bare hands.

Standing up again he retrieved a leather-cloak from the dresser and put it around the Elf's shoulders of Legolas and sat down next to him on the soft fur. He nibbled at his piece of bread quite lost in thoughts as he stared into the flames, now and then chancing a curious and concerned glance towards the Elf next to him.

The Elven slave felt the soft fabric softly clinging to his upper body and shivered slightly, before it started to reflect the heat of the fire and warm up his cold skin. For a few moments he stared down at the bowl his master had put in front of him and wondered why he did that. Only until he felt the pinching pain in his stomach and realized that he didn't eat anything today, except the breakfast.

Slowly he reached out and grabbed the nuts, stuffing them into his mouth and chewing them carefully, in case not to cause any more pain to his already aching head. He ate without hurry, slowly and even, as he picked a pear, a handful of cherries and a peach. After he finished them off, he noticed the glance his master was sending to him and he slowly looked up, meeting his concerned gaze, while he looked at him quizzically.

As the Elf started eating the nuts and the fruits, Aragorn's gaze softened a bit, but he wasn't sure how well his stomach would take it as he was pretty sure that breakfast was the last time anybody gave Legolas something to eat. So the concern stayed in place.

When Legolas turned his head to look at him, he quickly looked back into the fire and felt like it was time to check on the milk. For nothing better to use he put his finger into the milk and checked the temperature. Deciding that it was warm enough he pulled the pot back with the poker and poured the now warm milk into another cup, using his clothes to touch the almost burning handle of his pot.

He tested the temperature of the cup and then put some honey into the milk, honey he still had from the times when he was Ranger, the sweetest and best honey he had ever tasted. So since he liked it he hoped that Legolas did as well, and that it would ease some of his pain away.

"Here, try this," he said as he finally handed the cup over to the Elf.

Legolas felt a slight pain in his chest, when Aragorn quickly turned his gaze away from him, like looking at his slave made him feel even more uncomfortable. The Elf bowed his head down again and looked at the stones of the cherries and peach.

He heard his master's roaming in the room, but didn't look up. Legolas' stomach was rebelling against the offered food once more, just like the night before. But the Elf was used to that by now, since he hadn't gotten food regularly over the past few weeks. So he just sat still and tried to concentrate on his body's behavior, to possibly calm it if necessary and possible.

The slave looked up though, when something was offered to him. He saw a cup in front of his face and recognized the sweet scent of the milk. It smelled differently now though, but still very delicious.

Slowly extending his arms, Legolas grabbed the cup carefully and almost immediately lowered his arms again. He was still feeling rather weak, and wasn't even sure if he was able to lift the cup to his mouth to drink. The Elf was afraid of letting it fall.

So he looked down at the white liquid, with obvious hesitation written over his features, and a glimpse of longing in his eyes. He really wanted to have this sweet taste on his tongue again, plus to feel the promised warmth, radiated from the cup in his slightly shaking hands.

Aragorn watched the Elf closely as he took the cup and stared at it as if he was afraid to drop the cup if he raised it just a little higher. The man's first thought was that Legolas didn't like the milk anymore because of the honey he added, but then he noticed the longing in the stare down onto the cup. After a few moments that look became unbearable for Aragorn and despite his initial trepidation he skidded a little closer.

"I'll help you," he suggested gently and put one hand on Legolas back and the other on the base of the cup, holding it steadily as he helped the Elf to raise it to his lips. "But you have to swallow on your own," he added with a small smile to himself.

Legolas looked up, surprised by the offer, and a little startled as he felt the gentle touch on his back. He nodded to the suggestion and slightly leaned against the arm around his shoulders, slowly lifting up the cup, feeling better now that he knew that he couldn't break it. The Elf still felt a little awkward since his master had to help him yet again, but he had offered it himself and Legolas surely wouldn't refuse it.

So he rose the cup to his trembling lips, taking a small sip to taste the difference, only to hungrily empty the cup pretty soon, without being to hasty.

He could feel the warmth of the milk flow through his whole body, slowly warming it up from inside, making him feel tired and heavy, just like the day before. And yet it was different. The dizzying feeling of the wine was missing, and he didn't feel defenseless, just satiated, warm and safe.

The Woodelf didn't really notice how his eyelids slowly closed and he sank against his master, resting his upper body against the Human's, almost lying in his embrace. The only thing he noticed was more warmth around him, and the long missing feeling of safety.

Watching the steady swallowing motions, Aragorn didn't even notice how his arm went around the Elf's shoulder and how he held him as the other sagged against him when the cup was empty. So while he was slowly lowering the empty cup away from now white-coated lips, he pulled the smaller frame closer to his chest and rubbed his thumb over the leather-covered shoulder.

"Milk and honey...," he murmured, looking at the flames again. "My mother used to give it to me when I was very, very little and couldn't sleep..."

"Hmmm…." Legolas almost purred as he slightly pulled his knees closer to his body, and drew his hands next to his head, softly clutching the king's shirt once more. The Elf wasn't really aware of his surroundings any more, thus making him snuggle up to the warm body even closer.

"She used to sing me some songs when she put me to bed... to which I don't remember the words," the man chuckled sheepishly. "I just remember the melodies..." He trailed off and started humming quietly, feeling the anger subside as he stared into the fire. This way he could almost pretend that he was sitting in front of a campfire instead of a fireplace, the chilling air of the forest surrounding him instead of the stone walls of Minas Tirith. But as soon as he finished the song he was humming, he was very aware that he wasn't a ranger anymore and this wasn't a forest. Also he noticed that Legolas was now fast asleep.

Aragorn looked down to see the Elf clutching his shirt once again and his eyes widened as he realized that he was being used as a pillow by the one people thought he would use as a pillow.

Somehow that thought made him smile and he let his thumb caress the shoulder as he decided to look into the fire a little longer, until fatigue was slowly creeping into his bones. A quick glance down told him that Legolas was still sleeping against his chest. With another small smile he picked up the Elf yet once again and carried him towards the king's bed, where he put him down gently. He could feel how the grip on his shirt loosened and then he saw the Elf's hand falling down to his chest. This was when he noticed that the towel got lost somewhere between the fireplace and the bed and that the loincloth was still soaking wet and now as cold as ice.

He frowned and felt a bit awkward, but since he didn't want the Elf to get sick in addition to his injuries, he removed the loincloth with wary fingers. The soaking piece of cloth was almost too thin to hide anything, but as it was taken away Aragorn couldn't even stop his gaze as it moved down to the junction of legs, even as the owner was curled up in almost a tight ball.

Staring at the pale manhood surrounded by equally pale locks, he found himself wondering how it would look if erect. Almost without his control his hand reached out to touch, inching closer as Aragorn stared at both limbs as if they were a rabbit and a fox, and it was only within hairbreadth that he came to halt all of a sudden.

Looking at his hand as if it was some ugly extension, he slowly pulled it back, still feeling somehow disembodied until he shook his head angrily. Frustration rising in him again, he tucked the covers away quite fiercely, but pushed the Elf underneath them rather gently. It wasn't in Aragorn's intention to wake up or hurt Legolas again just because of frustration.

He chided himself for almost doing something immoral and then sat down in front the fire once again, staring at the flames before he finally fell asleep on the soft hide. To his luck, his dreams were not coming to his consciousness during his sleep.

To be continued...
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Hm... anybody else than me (the editor) had the feeling this chapter was quite long? And Aragorn's mood was on a devilish rollercoaster-ride... o.o;;

my-chan: just fine since the last chapter was rather short I'd say. Legolas was on some kind of rollercoaster himself, btw. Don't you think it's easy to write him :P

makiko: I'd never think that!