Title & Chapter Number: Dragon Fever 2/21
Author(s): - Author's Index
Fandom: LOTR
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. The characters, settings, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for Elwen and other original characters who belong to this author. I make no money from this, more's the pity,considering the number of hours burning the midnight oil.
Warnings: Mild BDSM and non-consensual situations in a few chapters. Some het.
Betas: Many thanks to Caz and Dhvana for beta reading, and to friend Dhvana especially for advice, consultation, and moral support and to Dalogas for being my most thorough reviewer.
Cast: Legolas/Aragorn; Legolas/OCs; also Thranduil, Smaug, Gimli, Balin, and Gloin.
Timeline: In the Third Age of Middle Earth, shortly after The Hobbit.
Spoilers: None
Summary: Legolas tells Aragorn a story about a trip he once made to Esgaroth (Lake-town) with his lover, Elwen, a Rivendell elf. But something is rotten in Esgaroth and Legolas is forced to strike an unusual bargain. A mix of adventure, romance, humor, angst, and hot sex.
Notes: This is actually both a prequel and a sequel to "Ohtarnil: A Warrior Love." The first and last chapters (1 and 21) are sequels and take place shortly after the Fellowship leaves Lothlórien. However, most of the story takes place 73 years earlier when Legolas first becomes involved with my fictional character, Elwen. Feedback, as always, greatly appreciated.
Chapter 2 - The Dragon's Curse
Late August, 2946 in the Third Age of Middle Earth
"Are you ready for a ride, Elwen?" Legolas asked.
"Anytime you are," his companion replied. Elwen turned and looked back at Legolas with a grin. His jet black hair blew wildly in the wind. Legolas noticed that a strand of it caught and lingered against Elwen's mouth.
"Let me get into position," Legolas said, and dug his paddle into the swiftly flowing current of the Forest River. The bottom of the wooden canoe began to vibrate, feeling as if a whole school of small fishes were moving just underneath it. The sound of roaring water increased as they shot forward into the rapids. The tops of the green waves were tipped with white foam, like aging dwarves' beards. Legolas steered them purposefully toward the roughest water. Ahead the river roared around a wide curve in the cliff face.
"Here we go," Legolas yelled gleefully, as the boat picked up speed, and then bounced forward, hitting hard between bounces. Elwen shipped his paddle and hung onto the sides. Legolas steered the boat skillfully around a series of boulders. Several large waves curled in place near the rocks ahead. The blond elf nosed the canoe into the arc of the wave, leaned hard into the turn, and surfed down its curving face. The spray drenched them both.
"Aiiii, yaaaah," Legolas and Elwen howled like wild wargs.
~*~*~*~
Talagan, King Thranduil's seneschal, paddled his canoe on the far side of the river where the water was quieter. He mournfully watched his two charges nearly overturn their boat as they whipped around the bend of the river. He knew shouting a warning would be useless as he had been doing it all day. Corraling the headstrong prince was a full-time job.
"Look at those two," he said to Thrin, his bowman. "You'd think they were on a holiday. If they flip that boat, we could lose half our supplies."
"What're you going to do?" Thrin shrugged. "He's the prince. He outranks us."
"He's supposed to obey me. I know the King told him that before we left." Talagan frowned and squinted at the late afternoon sun. Prince Legolas and his dark-haired companion were almost out of sight, but he could still hear their delighted shouts even over the steady roar of the river.
"Ah, Talagan, let them have some fun," Thrin said. "Legolas has been itching to get out from under his father's control all summer."
"You're not the one who will face King Thranduil's wrath if something happens," Talagan said. He distinctly remembered his last audience with the king before they left.
Thranduil was seated at the table in his library. Scrolls of parchment littered the table. He was reading and signing documents. "Come in, Talagan." He beckoned to his chief administrator without lifting his eyes to look at him. Sunlight streamed in from a round tunneled window carved in the living rock high up the wall. It illuminated the thick fingerlike formations that hung from the ceiling, the last drips of water that once trembled on their ends, now frozen forever in stone. Dustmotes danced in the sunbeam surrounding King Thranduil's leonine head of blond hair. He glanced up, sapphire-blue eyes piercing Talagan.
"I trust the trade agreement with Esgaroth was prepared to your liking, my lord?" Talagan said.
"As always, your work is quite satisfactory." The king paused and tapped his lips with the quill. "Talagan, don't you think it odd that it has taken the people of Esgaroth so long to rebuild after the fall of the dragon, even after all our help?"
"Perhaps men aren't as industrious as elves," Talagan ventured.
The king sighed and threw his quill down on the table. "Trade agreements! Reports on numbers of wine barrels or bolts of cloth shipped! Fah! This is the part of being a king that I find the most tedious. I am glad you are here to smooth the way for me. But you must get weary of administrative tasks yourself."
"My lord?" Talagan inquired. He knew the king well enough to know that he was about to be asked to do something not in line with the usual duties of sitting at a desk copying documents, supplying the king with reports, or settling endless household squabbles. He much preferred working on his remedies and consulting the stars.
"I needed someone to take the agreement back to Esgaroth and make some final adjustments. Legolas has requested the errand. I have decided to grant his wish, as he seems restless, and it's time he was taking more responsibility." The king tapped the table with long fingers. Talagan thought, not for the first time, how much he looked like his younger son, Legolas. Like and yet not so; where Legolas's face was kind, Thranduil's was cold. He was a king secure in his strength, and not to be trifled with. Talagan awaited his pleasure.
"I want you to go with him to Esgaroth, Talagan," the king said. "Keep him out of trouble, which he has a way of finding. And I believe that new companion of his, that Elwen from Elrond's household, is going on this trip also. I have no authority over him and cannot say no, but I sense," and he looked carefully at Talagan, "that Elwen has taken an interest in my son beyond mere friendship. I do not believe it has gone anywhere yet, and I want it to stay that way. Have I made myself understood?"
"Perfectly, my lord." Talagan bowed. "When do I start?"
"Tomorrow," the king said, and he went back to frowning at his scrolls.
But, as Talagan now watched Legolas and Elwen cavorting through the rapids, he had a feeling that he was not going to escape Thranduil's wrath.
~*~*~*~
Now that they were through the roughest water, Elwen pulled his paddle off the floor of the canoe and dipped it back in the water. What a great day this had been! He felt so alive when he was with Legolas. He turned to look at the prince who was leaning back with his eyes closed, enjoying the sun on his face. Elwen felt a familiar jolt in his groin, sensed every time he gazed at the high cheekbones, strong jawline, and straight dark brows of Legolas's fair face. The prince's beauty was remarkable even among elves, the fairest folk of Middle Earth.
Elwen had fallen for that face, and equally comely body, from the moment he laid eyes on the elf two months ago. Elrond had sent Elwen as part of a delegation from Imladris to enjoy the summer games Thranduil had instituted to keep his warriors sharp. Elwen began watching one particularly lovely archer with interest, admiring his grace and technique, and cheering as loudly as anyone when he beat out all his rivals to take the prize for greatest skill with a bow. He had gone to congratulate the winner, shook his hand, looked into his jewel-blue eyes, and at that moment, Elwen realized that his heart was no longer his. It was only later that he learned who the beautiful young archer was.
Elwen had managed to attract Legolas's attention at the banquet that night in an informal music competition. The Imladris elf had a talent for playing the fiddle and singing. Legolas had asked him to sit with him afterward, and in the course of the conversation, requested that Elwen tutor him in music. Elwen agreed in return for archery lessons. They had been together every day since, even though the rest of Elwen's party had already departed for Imladris.
As Elwen had come to know Legolas, his infatuation only deepened. The prince was remarkable: quick, intelligent, compelling. Legolas constantly challenged him to risk more, attempt new feats, whether it was guessing riddles, fencing, or shooting rapids on the Forest River. Elwen knew he would follow Legolas down a dragon's throat.
Lately, Elwen's dreams, both waking and sleeping, were of tasting Legolas's curved lips, slipping his hands down the prince's muscular body, burying himself deep within him. The dark-haired elf had made some discreet inquiries among the palace staff and had learned only that the prince's most recent love affair had been with an elf-woman from Lórien. Unsure of Legolas's inclinations, Elwen was unwilling to declare his love and risk losing the prince's companionship.
He thought, how much longer can I keep this secret? It burns my soul! If only Legolas would give me a sign, the slightest sign that he would be receptive to a physical relationship. . . . Elwen sighed, and dug vigorously at the water with his paddle. Soon. It must be soon, as I can't delay going back to Imladris too much longer.
~*~*~*~
The river widened and flattened out. Legolas glanced back to see Talagan and Thrin far behind. He grinned. "Guess we've outrun my father's watchdogs."
"They're just following orders. Maybe you ought to play along more," suggested Elwen.
"Forget it. I'm an adult and Father treats me like an elfling. I will do as I please," Legolas said, a bit haughtily. "And besides, it's rather fun making Talagan nervous."
The river curved around eastward, gathered speed again, and then suddenly they were flung into a an immense oval lake, shaped like a spear point. The current continued to sweep them along. Legolas shaded his eyes with his long hand, looked to the south, and could just make out the dam where the lake water poured over the spillway into a roaring falls below. The air shook with the sound. To the north, he could see the rotting pilings of the old town of Esgaroth, destroyed five years ago when the dying dragon had fallen on it.
"Elwen," Legolas said suddenly, "let's go see what has become of old Smaug, eh? Last time I was here, I was involved in the battle and had no chance to see where the nasty old worm fell. They say he had a belly encrusted with jewels. Maybe we'll see some."
"Given the market for dragon bones, and particularly the teeth, I'd be surprised if the Lakemen hadn't salvaged all of it, including the jewels," Elwen said. "I'll wager none of the worm is left."
"Why? What do they use the bones and teeth for?" asked Legolas.
"Valar's wisdom, don't you know?" Elwen said. "They make a powerful medicine when ground into a powder. They say it can cure almost anything. And of course, it would be extremely scarce these days, wouldn't it, owing to the general lack of dragons, and the difficulty of killing one, even if one could be found. Any remains of old Smaug would be worth more than their weight in gold."
"Let's see, anyway. I'm even more curious now," Legolas said, paddling swiftly toward the remnants of the town that, five years earlier, had been a thriving community built on piles out onto the lake. Soon they could clearly see the ends of burnt timbers sticking out of the water like rotted old teeth. Only one small section of the pier had survived with the remains of several burnt houses perched on top. They glided through the timbers and peered down into the deep blue water.
Elwen bent low over the gunnel, his hair, glinting with blue highlights, cascaded down his back. For a brief moment, Legolas imagined the feel of that silky hair caressing his thighs as Elwen took him into his mouth. He smiled. These thoughts were becoming more frequent. Then, he sensed something new, of an unpleasant lurking nature.
"Legolas," Elwen warned, "this place feels strange to me, like some foul, brooding thing. I don't like it."
"I feel it also," Legolas said. "Wait a minute. I think I see something. Yes, just there, huge leg bones, a rib cage and a backbone, and there, out into deeper water, perhaps the skull." Legolas thought he might try diving in to get a closer look. He started to draw off his jerkin.
Suddenly, the prince felt a sense of overwhelming evil wash over him. He was intensely sick to his stomach. As he doubled over, clutching his abdomen, he heard a deep, hissing voice.
"Such a brave, little elf," it said. "So cocky, as you come to look upon my ruin, with such thoughts of the pleasures of the flesh! Know that if you dare come closer, you will cause the death of your loved one and you will die with that knowledge in your heart." The voice laughed, ending on a high, wheezing note. An icy fear gripped him.
Legolas heard retching sounds, managed to look up, and saw Elwen hanging over the side of the boat, violently ill. The dark-haired elf raised his head long enough to gasp, "Legolas, got to leave. Now!"
With great difficulty, Legolas reached for the paddle. He was dizzy with an intense headache and he feared he would be as sick as Elwen any minute. He dug the paddle into the water, threw his whole shoulder into the stroke, then another stroke, and another. As he put more distance between them and the dragon carcass, the sickness began to lessen. Elwen finally sat up and began paddling as if a host of orcs were after them. They only slowed when the ruined town was far in the distance and their heads had cleared.
"By the Valar," Elwen groaned, "that was terrible. I never want to feel like that again. Now we know why the Lakemen haven't salvaged the bones." He grabbed a water skin and rinsed his mouth out, spitting into the lake.
"It seems the nasty old worm has had a last laugh on his killers," Legolas said. "Imagine their frustration at having a fortune buried under them and unable to touch it."
Then Legolas saw Thrin and Talagan coming steadily toward them. They had made a wide berth around the ruined town. They reached them and pulled alongside. Talagan had a grim smile on his face.
"I gather you two miscreants had a taste of Smaug's Curse," he said. "I could have warned you, if you hadn't run off."
"What do you mean, if we hadn't run off, Talagan? You were just too slow," teased Legolas. "What do you have in that boat weighing you down so? Perhaps you sampled too many cakes during the feast days last week."
"Impertinent," sputtered Talagan. Thrin hid a smile behind his hand.
"Shall we go on to Esgaroth?" Legolas said. "You may lead the way, Talagan." The prince made a deferential flourish with his hand. The seneschal clicked his tongue in annoyance and then paddled away. As soon as his back was turned, Legolas and Elwen were smiling at each other, their unpleasant experience with Smaug's bones forgotten.
~*~*~*~
Esgaroth had been rebuilt around a bend of the shoreline and out of sight of the old town. As there was no longer any need for the town to be built in the lake as a protection from the dragon, it had been relocated onto the shore. A long wooden pier jutted out into the water, along which a variety of boats and rafts were moored. The Lakemen relied on the water commerce coming down the River Running from the Lonely Mountain, now inhabited by Dain and a host of busy dwarves; and from the newly rebuilt town of Dale; and from the Elven kingdom. Men farmed vast fields nearby, including the Dorwinion vineyards where the grapes were grown to create the sweet and potent wine so loved by King Thranduil. These were also traded at Esgaroth. The town, so long devastated, was finally prospering again in the wake of the dragon's demise.
A bell rang in a tower on the pier as they approached. Soon a half dozen canoes shot into the water, paddled by youngsters. As they approached, Legolas heard their high pitched voices, crying excitedly, "Elves! Elves from Mirkwood!"
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