Title & Chapter Number: Ohtarnil: A Warrior-Love 6/9
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 certain original characters who belong to this author. No money made, no harm intended. The work is the intellectual property of the author. First posted: November, 2002
Warnings: For you slash purists, there is some het fic. Just keep reading.
Betas: Caz
Cast: Legolas/Aragorn, Legolas/OCs, Haldir, Rumil. Other members of the Fellowship
Timeline: Third Age, Fellowship of the Ring.
Spoilers: None
Summary: In the woods of Lothlórien, Aragorn and Legolas become attracted to one another. But Aragorn cannot betray Arwen and Legolas still mourns the loss of a previous lover. A trip to the wood's borders to hunt orcs and a magical encounter with a stag changes their relationship.
Notes: This is part of a story arc that includes Dragon Fever. Although this one was written first, they can be read in any order. This story occurs after the events at Esgaroth in Dragon Fever, but before the first and last chapter involving Legolas and Aragorn. Feedback appreciated.
Chapter 6 - The Soul of a Stag
It took Aragorn, Legolas, and Rúmil several hours to hike back to the region where Rúmil had seen the deer prints in soft, marshy ground.
"A stag. A big one," said Aragorn, when they finally located the prints. "But these look several days old. He could be anywhere."
"They don't usually go too far in a few days," said Rúmil in Elvish. "We should fan out and see if we can surround him. I'll go up that way. Legolas, you should go that way and Aragorn . . ."
"I'll follow these tracks," the ranger said.
Aragorn spent several hours following the trail through the marsh where it was easy to find. The rushes rose tall over his head. The sun grew warm for this time of year. Then the tracks appeared to have left the softer earth, headed toward a ridge. Easy enough for a ranger, he thought. He climbed the hill, but the prints disappeared as the deer had traversed a large stone outcropping that spread in a line along the top of the ridge. Aragorn sniffed the wind, wondering which way the stag had gone.
He was having a hard time concentrating. He kept remembering the feel of Legolas's skin against his under the blankets; the sight of him rising out of the water at the springs of Envinyatar. He imagined lying next to the elf, tasting his lips. How could he keep denying how he felt?
Then Aragorn saw a movement in the woods. He dropped, crawled toward it. There was the stag! The immense animal was browsing on bushes in the midst of a thicket. Aragorn could see its huge rack of antlers moving and hear the hard grinding of its teeth. Aragorn moved downwind of the creature.
How magnificent it was! It looked at least six feet tall at the shoulder. The black eyes and muzzle were surrounded by white fur, a great ruff of curly hair around its neck. The ranger quietly notched an arrow to his bow and crept forward. He drew back the string, sighted, and let go. Just as he did, the animal moved forward, and his shot, instead of hitting the deer in the neck, hit its flank.
The stag squealed, leapt in the air, and then took off with Aragorn in swift pursuit.. The ranger pounded down the slope past a cliff face that rose in height as he ran along it. The cliff curved around to his left. Suddenly, Aragorn faced a steep wall. The deer had come to a halt in front of it. Panting and rolling its eyes, it turned and stared at Aragorn.
Aragorn backed off. He fitted another arrow to the bowstring. The stag lowered its huge rack of antlers and charged. The ranger managed to get off a shot that skipped along the deer's flanks, maddening the animal. Aragorn sidestepped as one antler caught his upper shoulder, ripping his leather jacket. He dropped the bow and rolled out of the way. The stag turned, lowered its head again, and nearly impaled Aragorn, the sharp horns inches from the man's chest.
Then, the ranger heard the sudden zing of a bow, felt a whoosh of air pass his cheek. The arrow hit the stag in the neck. The animal screamed, a frightening sound. The next arrow caught it right in the jugular. The stag dropped to its knees; bright blood stained the ground. Then, it fell heavily, almost on top of Aragorn.
Legolas ran past the ranger. Sinking down by the panicked deer, the elf picked up its head, and cradled it on his lap. The stag kicked its legs wildly. But Legolas held it tightly and began singing softly in Elvish, while stroking its neck. Aragorn didn't understand the nonsensical words, but he recognized it as an ancient healing song he'd heard Elrond sing. The deer slowly lowered its legs, closed its eyes, and sighed, a labored rattling sound. Legolas bent down and put his mouth near the stag's and inhaled deeply. The stag breathed once. Again. Each time Legolas inhaled the breath. Then the great animal relaxed, and died.
Aragorn looked on in awe as one shining tear rolled down Legolas's cheek. The elf stood up, staggered backward, and fell against the bole of a great mallorn tree, his arms splayed out to catch his balance.
The ranger rose to his feet. "Legolas," he grabbed the elf's shoulders, "Are you all right? What did you do?" Legolas's eyes were rolled up into his head. He seemed to be having a fit. Suddenly, the elf seized Aragorn and pulled him close.
"Aragorn, I am not master of myself," Legolas gasped, in a strange, husky voice. His eyes locked with the ranger's; the elf's eyes as wide and frightened as the stag's had been. His pupils were dilated, the aqua-blue iris shot with golden threads, ringed with a darker blue. Eyes as mysterious and as complex as the depths of the ocean. Aragorn felt as if he were falling into a well, lit with starlight. There was no returning from this.
Legolas slowly smiled, his cheeks dimpled. There was a shining light about his face. Aragorn caught his breath at the elf's beauty.
"Estel," Legolas licked his lips, sensuously. "The soul of a stag rides on my breath. Do you wish to taste it?"
A roaring began in Aragorn's ears; his heart thumped. Slowly, as if drawn against his will, the ranger tilted his head, and brushed his lips softly against the elf's. Legolas opened his mouth into the kiss. Ah, his mouth was warm, sweet to the taste. I'm lost, Aragorn thought, as the elf's tongue contacted his.
"Empty your lungs," Legolas whispered. The man did so. "Now inhale!"
Aragorn took a deep breath as Legolas blew a strong blast of air into Aragorn's lungs. The ranger had the strange sensation of a cool, silver mist entering his body. Then he felt his eyes flutter, his neck arched, legs lengthened, feet hardened to hooves, antlers grew from his head. These sensations passed, but he was left with emotions: fear, rage, lust. His loins burned with a passion he had never known before. Aragorn sank to his knees.
"Legolas, what have you done? Help me." Aragorn heard his own voice as if it came from a great distance.
"With pleasure, my captain." He looked up to see Legolas unbuckling his quiver, sliding off his pack, and setting them against the tree. The elf knelt next to him. Then he felt Legolas's lips pressing on his face, his eyelids, his neck, finally back on his mouth. Aragorn sighed and pulled him to the ground. He felt a burning need, a desire to possess the elf, to draw him into his body and never let him escape. In some corner of his mind, he heard a berating voice saying something about duty, honor, and betrayal. He did not heed it. He could not and he could not stop. He had no will left.
He slid his hands under Legolas's tunic and touched the soft skin, dragged his fingers over the twin columns of hard back muscle. Legolas pulled off Aragorn's coat. His tunic and shirt followed. The elf kissed and nipped down the ranger's chest, his tongue swirled around a nipple. Aragorn shuddered in pleasure.
"Let's see if we can take the edge off, eh Estel?" Legolas said. He moved down and undid the ties on Aragorn's breeches. Then he reached in and gently withdrew the ranger's member. It was rock hard, the vein along the underside throbbing with blood. Legolas took it into his mouth. Aragorn lay flat on his back staring up into the trees, as the elf used his tongue and mouth to bring him a greater agony and pleasure than he had thought possible. He arched his back, inhaled sharply, and moaned, rocking his hips rhythmically. Finally he could stand it no longer and with a cry, exploded his seed into the elf's mouth. The ground seemed to spin beneath him and he had to close his eyes to stop the spinning.
The ranger became aware that Legolas had gotten up and gone over to his pack. Aragorn lifted himself on one elbow. The elf pulled out a flask, took a long draught, and passed it to Aragorn.
"You are somewhat bitter, friend. It seems fitting, such is the lot of mortal men." Aragorn took a swallow of the sweet liquor and sank back on the ground.
"It is your turn now," the ranger sighed.
Legolas knelt and kissed him. "It doesn't take the prescience of my race to predict that we will have a very pleasant evening," he said. "But now, we have a deer to dress and butcher, or the meat will spoil. Pull yourself together, my captain." He rose lightly, shrugged off his cloak, tunic, and shirt. Then he took his long knife from its sheath, knelt over the stag, and drew the weapon down its throat. A red beaded line followed the knife's descent.
It took the better part of the afternoon to butcher the stag and prepare the meat. They worked stripped to the waist, and were soon hot and bloody. The entire time Aragorn was acutely aware of Legolas's proximity. He wondered how the elf could be so focused on the task when his loins still burned with the stag's spirit. Surely, the elf's did also.
Rúmil showed up and then left to fetch the other elves to help carry the meat back to their camp. When he arrived, Haldir raised one eyebrow and looked at Aragorn closely; then he smiled and nodded. Finally, as the late afternoon shadows lengthened, Haldir, Rúmil, and the other elves departed.
Legolas slapped Aragorn's back with a laugh. "You are a sight, friend. Come, I know a place not too far from here. A place to get cleaned up and rest."
They stuffed their shirts and jerkins into their packs, shouldered them, and Aragorn followed Legolas through the woodland paths. They struck a narrow way that zigzagged down a slope. Aragorn could hear a stream murmuring in the distance, the sound grew louder as they approached. Eventually they could see the rippling water glinting through the trees.
"This stream runs into Celebrant," Aragorn said.
"Yes," said Legolas. "Follow me."
He ran lightly along the brook, now hopping from rock to rock, balancing precariously, now running along the bank. Occasionally he laughed in sheer delight. Aragorn came behind more slowly, although he, too, enjoyed the warm fragrant air, patchy sunlight drifting through the leaves, and the musical water. He also enjoyed the sight of Legolas cavorting alongside the stream.
They came into a clearing. A waterfall poured noisily over a tall ledge into a foaming pool. Grass studded with elanor and nephredil flowers covered the banks. A doe sprang up and bounded off into the woods.
Without hesitation, Legolas dropped his pack and quiver, peeled off boots and leggings, and dived neatly into the center of the pool. He came up for air seconds later with a shout and a furious shaking of his head.
"Ho, that is cold!" He looked at Aragorn. "Come in, sluggard."
Aragorn began pulling off his boots and leggings. Then, he too plunged into the water. He also came up spitting and yelping.
"By the Valar, this is painful, Legolas. Almost as bad as the Celebrant. You're going to pay for this."
"I think not," Legolas laughed and swam out of reach.
Aragorn swam several quick powerful strokes and seized Legolas around the chest. Legolas wriggled out of his grasp, turned and pushed Aragorn's head under. The man grabbed the elf's legs underwater and dragged him down as well. They both exploded to the surface, wrestled while treading water, each attempting to best the other. Legolas splashed a sheet of water at Aragorn, then fled, swimming rapidly to the bank. Aragorn caught up with him in the shallows and tripped, taking himself and the elf down heavily, both laughing hard.
Aragorn looked into the elf's jewel-blue eyes. He felt the animal spirit return, spreading through his belly and thighs. The ranger kissed him, first tenderly and then harder. Legolas opened his mouth returning the kiss. His tongue met the man's.
Aragorn felt himself harden. Legolas slid his hands down the ranger's back and cupped his rear end. Legolas's erection rubbed hot against the ranger's.
"Ah, meleth-nîn*, " Legolas moaned. "Estel, I want you. But not just yet."
"I cannot bear this much more," Aragorn said, "I need to make love to you. Please, lirimaer, don't let me go on like this. I think I shall go mad."
He began kissing the elf's face, his neck, his shoulders. Legolas pushed him away. Although the elf was the slighter of the two, his strength astonished Aragorn.
"Anticipation is the appetizer before the main course," Legolas said.
The elf stood, wet hair streaming down his back, went to the bank, picked up his clothes, weapons, and pack, and set them on his head. Holding his burden with one hand, he waded through the pool to the right. The water rose to his armpits at the deepest point. The elf approached the curtain of the waterfall, slipped between two pouring torrents of water, and disappeared.
~*~*~*~
*meleth-nîn - my love
~*~*~*~
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