Title & Chapter Number: The Hand of the King 41-46/46
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Dalo's Archive
Fandom: Middle Earth
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Characters not mine. I'm just a guy who loves guys loving guys, filling in some gaps, with all due respect to Tolkien.
Warnings: Slash (duh), Angst. Homosexual relationships and acts. Nothing kinky, but definitely down and dirty at times (we're talkin' NC-17, folks). You gotta problem wit dat? Here's a tip: DON'T READ IT!!!
Betas: Elfscribe (Luv ya!)
Cast: Legolas/Aragorn/Boromir/A surprise
Timeline: January 17-20, 3019 Third Age
Spoilers: None
Summary: While recovering from Moria in Lothlórien, the Fellowship discovers a mysterious phenomenon that could threaten the future of all.
Notes: Dedication: "The Hand of the King" was written as an expression of love for my partner, Jon, who at times is my Legolas, and other times my Aragorn. Gerich veleth nín, Jonathan. Thank you for loving me so completely. "My heart will be yours until the end of time."
Chapter 41
Aragorn was insistent and Legolas could no longer resist the pull of his heart. He once more surrendered to the ranger's passion. He moved from the man's lips to his chin, the beard scratching against his lips and tongue. He covered Aragorn's cheeks and neck with kisses and began to move down the man's chest, amazed at how the feel of the human's body hair against his lips increased his already raging desire.
He pulled away to gaze upon the object of his longing. Aragorn stared at him with sparkling eyes, his love for Legolas shining forth like a beacon out to sea, leading the voyager into safe harbor.
Legolas knew the moment was at hand and could be postponed no longer. Tears welled in his eyes as he faced his darkest hour.
"Why do you weep?" asked the ranger with deep concern in his voice and on his face.
This was the point of no return. He could surrender to Destiny and allow Aragorn to sate his hunger. Alternatively, he could steel himself against his love's advances and prevent the communion from its resolution. A large part of him favored the latter option, wishing to avoid the impending grief.
Legolas responded to the man's question by leaning in and kissing him softly on the lips. "I weep from joy, dear Aragorn," he said softly.
The ranger reached up and pulled Legolas' lips tight against his. Legolas gave a small whimper as tears ran down his cheeks. He barely stifled the sobs that threatened to resurface, pulling away and wiping the tears from his cheeks. He gave a small deprecating laugh. "It is said that the tears of the elves are neverending."
Aragorn smiled, tears on his own face as well. "And apparently it is true."
Legolas laughed harder, the moment having passed. He was Destiny's, as he had always been.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 42
Aragorn wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Stretch out onto your back," the elf instructed, then sprinted to his discarded clothes, and withdrew something from the pocket. Aragorn moved away from the tree and then reclined onto his back as Legolas returned.
"Wait," the elf said, unstopping a small vial and taking a drink from it. He then held the vial out to Aragorn, who propped himself up on one elbow to accept it.
"What am I drinking?" he asked, looking at the clear blue half-empty vial.
Legolas knelt between the ranger's legs as he said, "It will heighten the experience."
"That tells me what it does. But not what it is."
"Do you trust me, Aragorn?"
Aragorn smiled at the echo from their previous evening together. "With my life, Legolas," he answered.
"Then drink."
Legolas held Aragorn's gaze with such command that the ranger was unable to look away while he drank the remainder of the elixir in one swallow. He watched the dark clouds return to cover the elf's visage once more. But only briefly and then they were gone.
"Now, my dear Aragorn, you will receive from my lips the same delight as I have from yours." With that pronouncement, he lowered his head to Aragorn's crotch and proceeded to duplicate the ranger's earlier performance, lick for lick, stroke for stroke. It was an incredible sensation to feel the elf's mouth on his cock, but another experience entirely to relive his earlier ministrations from Legolas' viewpoint. His instincts had been correct, the pleasure being beyond comprehension. Pleasuring himself had never felt like *this*.
From the outermost reaches of his awareness, he heard the familiar sound of Legolas' plant being broken, followed by the sweet sensual aroma. Consequently, he was not surprised by the intrusion of the elf's finger.
"Ah, yes, Legolas." Aragorn had longed to feel the elf inside him for the last two days and the exquisite pressure took him closer to the edge. Legolas buried his finger inside the ranger, massaging Aragorn's gland. Aragorn grabbed the elf's head, pulling it onto his cock again and again, grunting with each thrust.
He felt himself approaching the edge, and apparently so did Legolas. The elf withdrew his finger and his mouth at once, applying pressure to the underside of the ranger's erection at its base with his thumb. The wave of orgasm dissipated before it could break, leaving Aragorn writhing in constrained passion.
"Aaargh!" growled the ranger, and then broke into laughter. He lifted his head to look down upon that blasted smug grin. "You are wicked," he told the elf.
"A corrupter of kings. Yes, I know."
"That is not what I meant, and you know it."
"What displeased you, your majesty?"
"The removal of your mouth, of course. Why did you stop?!"
Legolas moved his hand up Aragorn's erection, smearing the sticky fluid that oozed from the tip with his thumb, causing the ranger to gasp, his body twitching with pleasure.
"Although I wish to feel you complete yourself inside of me, that was not the manner in which I wished it to happen," answered the elf.
"Then come here," ordered Aragorn, pulling the elf up and on top of him. He rolled both of them onto their sides and continued until he was atop the glorious elf. He looked down upon the exquisite features and luxurious blonde hair. The love in Legolas' eyes took his breath away.
"I love you, Legolas," he said.
The elf's eyes filled with tears and he answered with trembling voice, "And I love you, Aragorn."
Aragorn dove upon the elf's swollen lips with a passion that threatened to drive him insane with desire. He wanted Legolas. And badly.
Taking his cue from Legolas, Aragorn recalled the elf's lovemaking and thought to reproduce that performance. But when he pulled away, he found he could not tear his eyes from his lover's face, and made a small adjustment to his plan. He pushed Legolas' thighs apart with his knees and knelt between the elf's legs, lifting them up and onto his shoulders. Then he retrieved and broke another green stalk, smearing the slick gel onto his fingers. He reached down and slowly inserted his middle finger into his lover. He removed it to retrieve more gel and then reinserted it again, moving it in and out, massaging the tight muscle in preparation.
"Oh, Aragorn. It has been so long. That feels magnificent."
Aragorn withdrew his hand, eliciting a whine of disappointment from Legolas. He then broke another stalk and applied the lubricant to his erection, which was harder than he had ever felt before.
He repositioned Legolas' legs on his shoulders and pushed forward, placing his hands on the ground on either side of the elf's shoulders and raising his own knees so his feet and his hands bore all his weight. He lowered his hips until the tip of his member met the twitching opening of the elf. They both gasped as he made contact. Aragorn hesitated, not wishing to harm Legolas.
"Don't worry, my love. You will not hurt me," reassured Legolas, reaching up and cupping Aragorn's face between his hands.
Aragorn took him at his word and plunged into him in one strong thrust.
"AAHHHHH!" cried Legolas, his eyes rolling back in his head. Aragorn halted, concerned despite the elf's previous reassurance. "Don't stop!" the elf encouraged with great urgency.
Aragorn felt the concern evaporate and animal lust assume control. He withdrew entirely and then plunged into his lover once again, drawing another cry from the elf. It only served to increase the ranger's fervor as he began to pound away at the beautiful being beneath him, lost in the fever coursing through his veins.
Aragorn's face was positioned directly above Legolas', their eyes staring into each other as their bodies and souls joined in union. Aragorn watched as the elf's eyes began to fill with tears once more, and was so moved by love and adoration that he bent down and took the elf's mouth with his own in a kiss that sealed their communion. Aragorn felt the oncoming rapture and increased his pace. He felt Legolas clenching around his cock as the elf shot his seed onto their chests. The pressure pushed him over the edge and he groaned into Legolas' mouth as he emptied his passion into the elf's body.
They both broke their kiss and threw their heads back, their orgasmic shouts blending into one voice, heralding their love into the night.
Aragorn felt a familiar glow within and knew he did not have long before he passed out again.
"You bewitch me, elf," he gasped, looking down into the face of his love. "I am completely under your spell." The light within continued to grow and was overtaking his senses once more. He thought he saw tears return to the elf's eyes, and managed to whisper "I love you," before the darkness descended.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 43
Legolas lay on his back clasping the sleeping body of the ranger to his chest. He remained where he was for a long time, crying tears of love and grief.
Eventually, he realized he must continue and carefully rolled his lover off and onto his back. Legolas rose to kneel at the man's side. He took Aragorn's hand into his own and, taking a deep breath, closed his eyes. He focused on the connection that still sang between them, allowing it to draw him in . . . .
~*~*~*~
Legolas looked down and saw Aragorn, lying on his stomach. He bent down and kissed the small of the man's back. "Aragorn," he said tenderly.
Aragorn stirred and rolled over, looking up at Legolas in surprise.
"Legolas?"
"Yes, Aragorn."
The ranger looked around in confusion. "Where . . . where are we?" he asked.
They were on a white blanket floating in a sea of darkness. Nothing else existed except the two lovers on their bed.
"Be at peace, Aragorn," Legolas counseled, brushing hair from the ranger's forehead. "We are meeting in your own mind as you sleep." Legolas found he could feel Aragorn relax with an intimacy he had never experienced before.
"But how is this possible, Legolas?"
"The blue vial we both drank from contained a gift from an old friend of mine."
"To what purpose?"
Legolas took a deep breath and answered as calmly as he could. "Aragorn, we need to talk."
"I do not like the sound of that," muttered Aragorn apprehensively.
"I asked you if you would do as I requested, though you had misgivings. You said, 'Tell me what to do, and I swear on the blade of Andúril, I shall do it.' Did you not?"
"Yes, I did."
"Do you stand by that vow?"
"Yes, I do. Legolas, tell me what is happening." Legolas smiled inwardly to hear the commanding tone in the Dúnadan's voice once more.
"Aragorn, let me ask you something."
"Yes?"
"Who is Arwen?" asked Legolas.
"What?"
"Who is Arwen?"
Aragorn raised himself onto his elbows. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, elf, but I don't think it's very amusing."
"This is no game, Aragorn," Legolas said firmly. Aragorn flinched as if he had been struck. "I'm sorry, Aragorn, but this is very important. Now tell me, who is Arwen?"
"You know who she is, Legolas."
"Humor me, you stubborn human," Legolas insisted.
Aragorn looked at him with confused eyes, but finally acquiesced and said "Arwen Evenstar is the daughter of Elrond of Rivendell, Granddaughter of Galadriel of Lothlórien."
"And who is she to you?" Legolas asked, bringing the point home.
"Why, she is my betro-" Aragorn stumbled on the word and the thought. "Legolas, what just happened between us?"
"We bonded," answered Legolas simply and sadly.
"We . . . ." Aragorn fell silent for moment, looking down at the blanket. "Yes, we did. I can feel it." He looked up at Legolas and smiled. "It feels wonderful, Legolas."
"Yes, it does, meleth-nîn." Legolas said, caressing the man's cheek. He fortified himself and continued. "But it cannot remain," he said with finality, withdrawing his hand.
Aragorn's eyes widened and he asked "What do you mean, 'it cannot remain?'" fear rising in his voice.
"You must bond with Arwen," said Legolas, his voice emotionless, lest Aragorn hear the despair in his heart. "Your reign depends on it."
"My reign will be my own, regardless of the individual to whom I'm bound."
"Aragorn, be reasonable. Do you seriously believe you would be allowed to take the throne if you were bound to me?"
"I *am* bound to you, Legolas."
"They do not trust elves in the first place. Asking them to accept that their king is bound to an elven *male* is madness of the highest order."
"Then a mad king I shall be."
"Aragorn, stop it!" Legolas demanded. "I love you too, but you have to think."
"No! I cannot accept that I must release you now that I have found you."
"You must."
"I will not! Legolas, how can you do this to me?"
"Do you think it was my intent to lose my heart to you, Aragorn, only to lose you to another, no matter how worthy she may be? Do you seriously think I wished for this to happen?" Can't you see my heart is breaking? he asked silently.
"Then why is this happening?" asked Aragorn in despair.
"Because I unwittingly invoked Communion when I made love to you."
"What is this Communion curse that tears you from me?" demanded Aragorn.
"It allowed you to release your cares and worries, leaving you with no thought or ambition for the future."
"Yes, and it was absolute bliss, thank you very much."
"In making love to me tonight, you have completed the cycle, reclaiming the initiative and boldness you released to me in our earlier encounter."
"Yes, I can most definitely feel that."
"In the process, we have bound ourselves to one another," continued Legolas.
"To my utter joy," added Aragorn.
Legolas shook his head. "Aragorn, this cannot be. You are for Arwen Evenstar. She is to be your queen."
"No!" cried Aragorn.
"Yes," Legolas reaffirmed quietly.
"But I love *you*, Legolas," the ranger protested.
"Shhhh," soothed Legolas, brushing the ranger's cheek with his fingers. "Be at peace, meleth-nîn."
"I cannot. Not if I must lose you!" Aragorn's tears widened the ever-expanding fissure in Legolas' heart.
"You must forget our love, Aragorn."
"Never!"
"You promised."
"I never did."
"'Tell me what to do, and I swear on the blade of Andúril, I shall do it,'" repeated Legolas.
"NO!" cried Aragorn, his eyes widening at hearing his own vow and realizing the implication. "Legolas, do not ask this of me, I beg of you," pled the Dúnadan.
Legolas was unable to hold back any longer and allowed the tears to flow. "You swore, Aragorn."
"No, please." They both were sobbing now. "I beg you, release me from this vow, Legolas. Please!"
"I cannot."
"So what am I supposed to do? Simply wipe clean the memory of our love?"
"Yes."
"And how do you suggest I accomplish this task?"
"Your vow has been given and the elixir consumed. It is already done." Legolas broke down and fell onto Aragorn's chest, weeping in despair.
They both lay in silence for a time, no words adequate to express the depth of their sorrow.
Eventually, Aragorn spoke. "I will tell you this, elf. Look at me."
Legolas lifted his head and gazed into the eyes of his beloved.
"The love we have shared may be lost to my memory tomorrow, but my heart *will* remember," Aragorn said. "I will always love you. *This* I vow."
Legolas took the man's hand and placed it over his heart. "And my heart will be yours until the end of time, my dear sweet Aragorn." He leaned forward and kissed the ranger on the lips. "I love you," he said, tears running down his cheeks.
The light in Aragorn's eyes was beginning to fade, the eyelids beginning to close. "I love you," the man answered.
Then Legolas watched the eyes of his beloved close for the last time. When next they opened, they would be the eyes of his friend, nothing more. The beacon which was Aragorn's love for Legolas was gone forever.
His heart shattered into a million pieces, and he collapsed once more in sobs onto Aragorn's chest.
The surrounding darkness crept over them, but the elf was oblivious to its encroachment. No gloom could overwhelm the abyss that was his soul, and he surrendered to the shadow of despair, feeling it close around him like a shroud.
~*~*~*~
Legolas awoke with his head on Aragorn's bare chest. He could hear the beating heart and feel the rise and fall of the man's breathing.
Legolas sat up and surveyed the clearing. He hated this spot and never wanted to see it again.
Eager to be done with this whole business, he bathed the sleeping Aragorn and then himself. After dressing them both, Legolas lifted Aragorn into his arms and began the trek back to Caras Galadhon.
The intervening miles were a blur. Legolas took no joy from the forest tonight. His arms ached with the weight of the ranger, but he kept moving until he reached the Fellowship's pavilion, whereupon he gently laid the man on his bed.
He looked down upon his love and felt the tears rising again as he brushed a stray lock from Aragorn's forehead. He turned away to avoid losing complete control once more. Tomorrow he would return to take his place within the Fellowship, but today he needed solitude.
He looked around to discover Boromir asleep in his own bed. Legolas briefly wondered how the Gondorian's night with Radagast had gone, but he dismissed the thought, knowing the wizard would have handled things appropriately.
He walked to Gimli's couch and knelt beside it.
"Gimli," he whispered as he shook the dwarf's shoulder. Gimli snorted and tossed a little in his sleep. "Gimli," he repeated, this time closer to the dwarf's ear.
"Wha. . . ." the dwarf woke with a start. "What is happening?"
"Shhh," hushed Legolas, placing a hand gently over the dwarf's mouth. "The Fellowship is still sleeping."
The dwarf reached up and pushed the elf's hand away. "As I would like to be, Master Elf."
"Gimli, please call me Legolas."
"Very well, Legolas," the dwarf said with a mighty yawn. "Why do you wake me at this ghastly hour?"
"I need to be alone this day. But on the morrow I would request your company. I seek to explore the width and breadth of Lothlórien 'ere we leave. And since you were so enamored by the Lady of the Wood, I thought you would like to accompany me as I explore her realm. Would you honor me with your companionship?"
"I would be honored to accompany you on your expedition," accepted the dwarf. "I thank you for your invitation. In truth, my impression of elves has been most transformed over the last few weeks. You are a credit to your race, Prince Legolas."
Legolas smiled. "Just 'Legolas' will do fine, Gimli. The crown of Prince weighs too heavily on my head. And I have had more than my fill of royalty and nobility for now."
"As you wish."
"Now, go back to sleep. I will return tomorrow morning when we will begin our exploration
"Goodnight, Legolas," mumbled the sleepy dwarf as he turned onto his other side, facing away from Legolas and the rest of the pavilion.
Legolas had taken several steps to leave the pavilion before stopping and returning to Aragorn's bedside. He said nothing, but took one last look at the handsome bearded face he would love for eternity. He leaned over and kissed the lips of his lover, and then knelt down to take the man's forearm into his hands, stroking the fine layer of hair as it crept over the wrist. He brought it to his lips and kissed the hand of the king.
He then placed the hand on the sleeping man's chest, turned and left the pavilion.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 44
Aragorn awoke to the sound of birds singing and the hobbits having breakfast. His stomach growled, demanding some sort of sustenance.
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch where he had slept. He glanced at the adjacent couch to see Boromir, still asleep.
Aragorn remembered the delicious meal Boromir cooked yesterday and how surprised he had been at the Gondorian's skill. Where did Boromir say he had learned to cook? That particular detail was unclear, and the more Aragorn tried to remember it, the more elusive it became.
No matter. The meal had been incredible and the wine most potent. He couldn't believe they had actually stumbled back to the pavilion last night without hurting themselves. It truly was a mystery.
All he knew was that he had never felt so rested and rejuvenated. He yawned and stretched, catching the attention of the hobbits.
"Aragorn!" cried Frodo excitedly.
"Good morning, Ringbearer," answered Aragorn.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 45
Boromir groaned at the sound of the cheerful voices.
"Ah," he heard Aragorn say, "Boromir is awake as well. Good morning, Boromir."
Boromir groaned again and covered his head with his pillow.
"Now, now, my friend. It's a beautiful day. Rise and join us," encouraged the ranger.
Boromir was astonished that Aragorn behaved as if last night's confrontation had never occurred. Despite a pounding headache, he remembered it all too well. Perhaps the ranger was attempting to shield the Gondorian from the disapproval of the Fellowship. For whatever reason, Boromir had no intention of reminding Aragorn of the serious transgression if it had been forgotten.
"Boromir, wake up!" Merry commanded.
"You promised to go exploring with us today," added Pippin enthusiastically.
Boromir removed the pillow from his head and reluctantly sat up. "Very well. If you insist," he said wearily, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.
"We do, indeed." Aragorn seemed rather chipper this morning, irritating Boromir to no end. "How is your head this morning, Boromir? Elven wine can be most potent, don't you think?" asked the ranger.
"Indeed," Boromir replied. "I can barely remember a thing. Can you?" he asked probingly.
"All I remember after dinner was stumbling back to the pavilion in the dark," said Aragorn. "A merry stroll, to be sure, for I do remember laughing a great deal."
"You must have been laughing at me, for I do not remember such levity," Boromir grumbled. Aragorn's memory of the hike back to the pavilion was a mystery. But he did not question it.
"Were you a depressing drunk, Boromir?" asked Pippin.
"Well, he's certainly gloomy when he's sober, so I can definitely see him as a depressing drunk," observed Merry.
"Take care, hobbits," Boromir warned. "I do not share Aragorn's good cheer this morning."
"Right," said Merry. "Don't poke the bear."
Boromir looked up to glare at the little beasts, but his heart was warmed by the good cheer in Merry and Pippin's faces.
It was strange; his heart felt lighter than it had yesterday, and it was easier for him to accept the genuine affection of the two hobbits. Last night's mysterious encounter after Aragorn had fled the scene had indeed brought some peace from the agony of Théodred's rejection years ago.
For that alone, he was thankful.
~*~*~*~
EPILOGUE
Something was up. That much he was sure of. Sam couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was up.
He had been awakened earlier that morning by the reappearance of Legolas in whispered conversation with the dwarf. Sam had pretended to be asleep, but had watched Legolas move to Aragorn's bed where he kissed the man's lips and hand before he left. Sam would have thought that Aragorn's desires had been returned by Legolas had it not been for the profound sadness emanating from the elf.
Then later, when Aragorn and Boromir awoke, the Fellowship had discovered that the two men had become fast friends.
They all now sat at the table, feasting as usual.
"And you'll never believe this," Aragorn said through laughter, "Boromir can *cook*!"
Merry and Pippin both snapped their heads in Boromir's direction. "Is that so?" asked Pippin.
"Aragorn exaggerates. It was no great matter," replied an uncharacteristically modest Boromir.
Aragorn told the story of their day on the Anduin, though the tale consisted of little more than a hike to the river, the bathing of Boromir, which brought cheers from everyone, dinner and a drunken hike home in the dark.
Sam sought to test Aragorn's state of mind. "Legolas was here this morning," he said.
Aragorn's head popped up at the elf's name, eyes bright. Yes, thought Sam. That's the love I saw before.
"He was? I wasn't aware he had returned from the northern borders. Where is he now?" asked the ranger.
"I wouldn't know, I'm sure. But Gimli might. I heard them talking," replied Sam.
All eyes turned to Gimli. "Yes," the dwarf confirmed. "Legolas was here. He invited me to join him tomorrow as he explores these woods. But he said he needed to be alone today. He didn't offer a reason and I didn't ask."
"I hope nothing untoward has happened to our elven friend," the ranger remarked. But his concern apparently passed quickly. Too quickly, for Sam's taste. "So, Ringbearer," Aragorn said turning to Mr. Frodo. "Perhaps we should discuss your thoughts for the next step of our quest."
Sam stopped listening, giving no care to where they had to go. He would follow Mr. Frodo. No discussion. Instead he pondered the sudden return to apparent normality. But things weren't really normal at all, were they? Legolas was heartbroken. The elf and the dwarf were going on an expedition together. Aragorn and Boromir were great friends. Aragorn was interested once more in the struggle against Mordor, though his love for Legolas had apparently been forgotten. And Boromir could cook!
No, no, no. This wasn't right at all. They might pretend that nothing had happened, but Sam was convinced that something had occurred. He didn't know what it was, but he was fairly certain it involved Boromir, Aragorn, *and* Legolas.
What exactly took place on the banks of the Anduin last night?
This wasn't over, thought Sam.
No, this wasn't over by a long shot.
FINIS
~ Previous Chapter ~
~ Library Main ~
~ Author Index ~ Character Index ~ Title Index ~
~ Hall Of Fire ~ Gallery ~
~ Links ~ Shops ~ Map ~ News ~ Rules ~ Lists ~ ~
This page is in no way affiliated with New Line Cinema or Tolkien Enterprises, and no profit is being made.
The information contained herein is NOT to be used to spam or in any other way harrass its members. Be advised that abuse of this site will not be tolerated, and the appropriate legal action will be taken.
Hall-Of-Fire.Com v.4.0, Copyright © 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009 by Cristine Cook-Fireheart. All rights reserved. This web site may not be reproduced in any form, except as occurs in normal browser caching, without express written permission from the author.
Website by Infinite Connections Design.