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Path of Honor-Part II: Far From Home	By : IdrilsSecret Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4870 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters. I make no money in the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter Five

There really was a natural hot spring beneath the hill that Legolas called home … this palace underground. The Prince led me through another confusing series of corridors and walkways until we came to a place that looked like a cave. While the other parts of the palace had smooth walls and floors with luxurious rugs, plush seats and tables with gold inlay, the bath house, as Legolas referred to it, was left looking unfinished, with rough stone walls and rock benches carved into those walls. In the center of the room was a large pool with steam rising from its dark waters. The air smelled like minerals and wet earth, very much like a cave.
“This used to be solid rock. The dwarves came in, chipping and hammering away, day and night, until they made this room. Then they tapped into the water source feeding the pool that they built with the naturally heated water. It flows in from the center of the pool, and exits at the far end,” Legolas informed.
“An ingenious design as I’ve ever witnessed,” I said, utterly in awe.
“All are welcome here any time they like. I come here to think or to unwind after a good hunt,” he said, walking to one of the stone benches. He sat down and started taking off his boots. I stood to the side and continued to admire the handiwork of dwarves. “Haven’t you any bath houses in Lothlórien?” Legolas asked.
I glanced at him, and found that he was now stripping himself of his clothes. I looked away quickly. “We have hot springs, but they’ve been there since the earth was made. And they are not as private as this.” I heard the rustling of leather and silk, as Legolas continued undressing.
“I wouldn’t have thought of you being bashful,” Legolas said, and now I heard the swirling of water as he made his way into the pool.
“Just … respecting your privacy,” I answered uncomfortably.
“You may look now,” he called.
I turned and found him waist deep in the center of the pool. The water covered him low on his hips, and I noticed the trail of blond fuzz leading from his bellybutton and lower. Some elves had this trait and some did not. I myself didn’t, but I found it to be an enticing feature to the male body. Before I thought about where that trail led, I cleared my throat and walked to one of the stone benches.
“Do I make you nervous?” Legolas asked, the sultriness returned to his voice. “Surely you don’t bathe in your clothes in Lothlórien.”
I laughed with an acute uneasiness. “Of course not. It’s just that … well … I barely know you. In Lothlórien, we have trained together, eaten together, fought together, and yes bathed together, but we know each other like brothers.”
“Then here, let me make you more comfortable.” Legolas sunk lower into the water and turned his back to me. “Better?”
“Somewhat,” I said. I saw no way out of this, and more than anything I wanted to lose my anxiety to the warm water. So I undressed, and kept a close eye on Legolas in case he tried to execute some kind of foolery. He didn’t, and remained with his back turned until I notified him. The water was very hot, almost to the point that I could not stand it, and I sucked a sharp breath in between my clenched teeth.
Legolas laughed low in his throat. “You’ll get used to it once you are submerged.”
My skin tingled from the heat, but soon I began to adjust to the temperature. “By the gods, this feels wonderful,” I sighed.
“My favorite place to be,” he said, and he disappeared beneath the water. I watched him glide across the pool, and come up for air close to where I was. He looked like a river imp with his hair wet and slicked back, ivory skin glistening with water, and blue eyes alive with mischief. He smiled at me. “You should try it. Let the water cover every inch of your body.”
“Oh, well … I … haven’t taken out my braids,” I said as an excuse.
“Here, let me help you.” He waded over to me, his long fingers reaching for the braids at my temples. He was gentle as he untwisted my hair, taking his time, and let his fingertips brush along the edge of my ear. He moved to the other side and repeated the process. “There,” he said when he was finished.
A wine servant entered the room, carrying a tray with a carafe, goblets, and a few edibles. Legolas told her to leave it at the edge of the pool. When we were alone again, he approached the tray and poured, handing me a cup. “Dorwinion wine. Best you’ll ever taste, but be careful. It is quite potent.”
I took a sip and was immediately rewarded with a delightful warmth that purled through my chest, settling in my stomach. Now I was warm from the inside out. “Delicious.”
“Yes. Yes it is,” Legolas said, but I didn’t think he was talking about the wine.
I moved back against the side of the pool, and Legolas stayed beside me. He sipped his wine and set the cup down. Then he dipped his head below the water again. When he came up, he was staring intensely at me.
“So, what do you think your father will choose?” I said to break up the vehemently charged moment.
Legolas’ arms came out of the water, spreading along the stone edge. I glanced at his chest, well defined like what was common for an archer. “Well,” he started to answer. “I would say he would choose to do nothing, if it weren’t for the fact that you know something that he does not. That was a brave move on your part, to accuse him of already having known something about the prisoner.”
“I know he knows something. I just don’t know what that something is. And I believe I hold the other half of the key to solving the mystery.” I adjusted my position so that my shoulders sunk beneath the water. “Your father would do whatever he could if he knew there was a way to end the darkness.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Legolas asked defensively.
“Perhaps, but what he would do comes with a heavy price.”
Legolas was silent, but I knew he wanted to know more than anything. The fact was, I knew why the enemy wanted Gollum. The creature knew things about the whereabouts of a weapon. In the hands of the enemy, it could destroy Middle-earth. But in the hands of Men, it could rule or ruin. It could still be very detrimental to the future of the free people of the world.
“You have sacrificed for a price. You know what it is like,” he said. “You said it yourself, choosing the army over a lover. So you see, sometimes we will do what it takes to make sure there is a tomorrow.”
“My choice to be a Captain is not a sacrifice. I do it because I want to, not because I have to. And he was more than a lover, if you must know.” I don’t know why I was telling him this, but he’d put me on the defensive.
Legolas took his arms down and moved a little closer to me. “He must have been very special. You speak with passion whenever the subject it brought up.”
“He was special. He still is, to me anyways,” I admitted.
“You’ve never spoken about him to anyone, have you?” Legolas asked.
“Who am I going to tell?”
“You can tell me. You’re free to speak within Mirkwood,” he reminded me. “What was his name?”
“Tu … Túron,” I stammered. “He was from Rivendell.”
“Ai, Imladris … very passionate elves come from that land. I once had a lover there,” he reminisced.
“You have been to Rivendell?” I asked.
“A few times, but it was a very long time ago. You see, Lord Elrond was looking for someone who might make a good pairing for his daughter. My father thought it would be worthwhile to send me to Imladris. Imagine if the Prince of Mirkwood were to marry the daughter of Rivendell. It didn’t pan out, of course.”
“I take it you were not moved by her beauty?” I said, feeling more and more relaxed with every sip of wine.
“She is beyond beautiful. Even an elf like me found her difficult to resist. And then one evening, there was a special performance by the resident minstrel.” Legolas sipped his wine, a dreamy look adorning his face. “He was gorgeous, auburn hair, beautiful green eyes, and a smile that took my breath away. I flirted with him all evening. It was shameless of me, I know, but I just couldn’t help myself. Oh, the things we did to each other … hmm, gets me excited just thinking about it.”
It was getting me excited imagining it too, but I regained myself quickly. “Would you have married her … that is, if your father and Lord Elrond insisted on it?”
“No, I couldn’t have gone through with it, not even for our kingdoms. It would have been unfair to her.”
“And not unfair to you?” I wondered.
He gave me a devious look. “As I said, there was a musician.”
“Oh,” I replied and thought of the story Haldir told me about Raenor’s father.
“Why do you ask? Have you been in a similar situation?”
“No,” I smiled. “No father ever insisted his daughter marry a soldier. But I have been to quite a few dances with an elleth upon my arm for the evening, and nothing ever led anywhere beyond the dance hall.”
“So … you’ve never … with an elleth?” he hinted.
“Well, no,” I said matter-of-factly. But the look in Legolas’ eyes said he had had a different experience. “And you have?” I asked, my curiosity peaking at a new level.
“Let’s just say that Lady Arwen would have been very satisfied, and so would I as long as I had a way to supplement my voracious appetite,” he smirked. I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this. Perhaps he was testing me to see whether it made a difference or not. I thought about the flirtatious conversation between Legolas and Corweth, back when I first arrived in Mirkwood and found myself in the healing rooms.
“But whatever side I find myself entertaining, I tend to devote my full attention,” he added for good measure. In other words, I didn’t have to worry about him flirting with me and then throwing himself onto the next elleth that walked by.
“How very … gracious … of you,” I said facetiously.
He watched me over his glass as he sipped again. “You are very clever, Rúmil.”
“How is that?” I asked.
“Every time I try to delve into your personal life, you manage to turn the conversation around onto me.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” I noted.
Legolas smiled and laughed quietly to himself. “There’s that wit and charm that I find irresistible. Now, as you were saying about this lover from your past.”
“There’s not much to tell, really. We met, saw each other multiple times, helped one another, and then it was over.” I thought the quick version was best for today.
“You make an uninteresting story,” he said disappointed.
I got the feeling that he really wanted to know so he could understand me better. I think he was trying, but I was unwilling to budge. Perhaps it would do some good to tell a stranger about the things that happened and where my life went awry. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Túron was a scout and a spy, hired by my brother, Haldir, to keep an eye on certain elves who were trying to stir up trouble. When I became the focus of attention for these elves, Túron’s motives turned to protecting me. Unbeknownst to both of us, feelings developed.”
“I take it you did not know he was a spy?” Legolas questioned.
“No, not until much later, but by then we were … very close.”
Legolas swam around me, coming up next to me. He reached for a cloth and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow. There was a second towel. This one he used on me, dabbing my neck and my face. Then he smiled and handed it to me. “So, when you found out, is that when things went sour?” he asked.
“I was not happy to know I’d been deceived, but I was willing to listen.”
“That was noble of you,” he said, and he sat next to me in the pool.
“I didn’t get much of a chance, though. The elf I mentioned, the one causing the trouble, tried to set me up, to expose me for his own gain. Túron uncovered his plot at the last moment, and basically threw himself in front, taking the proverbial arrow for me. He was the one exposed, Túron and one of my best men. Once that kind of information is made public … well … I could not be seen with him any longer, for fear of my own secret being disclosed. And besides, his job was done. It was time for him to move on and look for work elsewhere.” Talking about Túron, and bringing back all the things I’d tried so hard to bury for the past year did not make it any easier now. I needed more wine, and I moved from my spot, leaving Legolas where he was. While I poured, I heard the water swirl behind me.
“It sounds like you have gone through some difficult trials, and I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.
“Thank you,” I barely whispered, taking a hefty gulp of my drink.
“But at least you had him for a short while. It’s better than to never have known what it was like to love.”
“You sound as though you’ve never experienced it before,” I noted.
“Well, when you live like we do here, with death always knocking at your door, it is difficult to find something real. Of course, there are other ways to fill the void. In that way, I think we are alike, Rúmil. Wouldn’t you agree? You’ve loved and lost. I’ve never loved deeply. There is an emptiness that exists, is there not? And when it feels like the void has gotten too deep, that’s when we must do something or we will fall in. At least, that’s what it feels like to me. I’m standing on the edge of the abyss, and I can feel it pulling at me, telling me to jump, to give in.” As he spoke, his hands moved to the back of my shoulders, massaging my stiff muscles, loosening the tension that was too often part of me. “But there is always someone there to pull me away, and keep me from going in.”
“I know what you are saying, but I’ve managed to stay clear of the abyss,” I said, trying to maintain my composure, but his ministrations were easing me into oblivion. “And you cannot leave to find happiness elsewhere, just as I cannot abandon Lothlórien or my position in the army.”
“We stay because it is a part of us. We have a duty to others.” His breath touched my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. “But we must also find release.”
“Yes,” I agreed, eyes closed, hanging on every satiny word he said.
He turned me around, and when I opened my eyes, he was gazing at me with stormy eyes. “How long has it been, Rúmil?” He moved towards me, close enough that I felt the heat of his skin. It was beginning to be too much, the warmth of the wine, the heat of the water, and now Legolas’ closeness. I moved to the side of the pool and lifted myself out of the water so that I was sitting on the edge. The coolness of the air felt refreshing.
“It’s been long, since the night he left Lothlórien,” I answered.
“There’s been no one since then?” Legolas asked, almost sounding shocked at this discovery.
“I … I haven’t had much time to think about it. A couple days after Túron departed, I left for my first campaign as Captain, to patrol the borders. I was gone for almost a year, and when I came home, everything was … different. The whole fiasco that was the reason why Túron had to leave was still hanging over my head. The council wanted me for questioning again. There was another tour at the borders to consider, since activity was at an all-time high. I had men to prepare, and a witch hunt to avoid. I wasn’t home long when Haldir sent me on this mission.”
“Seems very stressful,” he said, moving to join me at the side of the pool. He reached out and took a lock of my hair between his fingers.
“I’d rather be killing orcs, to tell you the truth.” I was a little uncomfortable with his closeness, and me without any cover. I hadn’t even given it a second thought when I moved from the water. Perhaps I was beginning to conform to the Wood elf way of being comfortable in one’s own skin.
“Ah, now there’s a sight I would love to see. Rúmil of Lothlórien, bow raised, arrow nocked, his eyes trained on his enemy. I meant what I said earlier. There is a fearlessness about you that is very alluring.” He nudged my knees apart and stood between them. I felt the flesh and muscle of his toned body upon my skin.
“I guess you are right. After all, I was not afraid to punch you in the gut,” I reminded him, trying to get a handle on my emotions.
He smiled and cocked his head to the side. “That’s exactly what I mean. All you need is a little bit of freedom, and you turn completely wild, like a feral beast. Unleash those inhibitions, and who knows what might become of you.”
He was so close now, and his words lured me in. By the gods, he was absolutely gorgeous. “I’ve never had the opportunity to do so.”
“You do here, within Mirkwood. Be that untamed spirit. Let it all go. Set yourself loose to pursue the unknown. There is more to you than you’ve ever admitted to. It’s time to abandon control of everything they’ve taught you in Lothlórien, and just … be.” As he spoke, he leaned into me. We were face to face, and I didn’t care about anything but tasting his lips again. “I want you, Rúmil,” he whispered.
I knew he was waiting for me to make the first move, but I was still hesitant to initiate it. I didn’t deny him either, when his patience ran thin, and he gave up waiting and grasped me behind the neck, pulling me to his lips. I went willingly, and submitted to his kiss. This time, I allowed it. I wasn’t shocked by it. I moved with him, our lips sliding together, tongues caressing and tasting. He took more care to read me than he had at the practice fields. He would only take it another step further if I allowed it, and I gave my permission by pulling away from his lips, freeing them to move elsewhere. He smiled and a steamy gaze met my eyes before he moved down, tasting my neck and my shoulder. His hands slid down my arms, and his head dipped lower, tongue flicking over my chest. I threw my head back, and let him lead me into this blissful moment. Lower and lower he went, until his mouth found me, surrounded me, and sucked me in. It had been so long since anyone had touched me in that way, and what Legolas was doing was unbelievable. I couldn’t hold back. I didn’t want to. As a part of me tried to resist, my mind played tricks to convince me to let this moment happen, and suddenly I was imagining Túron. But it wasn’t him. It was Legolas, and by the gods he was good. My body’s reaction proved that fact. But I’d let Túron in, and I started to feel the guilt and the embarrassment leak into my thoughts. What was I doing here with a Wood elf, a race that had no morals, no control? I had told myself that I wouldn’t be seduced, that I wouldn’t be used, and I betrayed myself. Worst of all, I realized that I wanted this very much, and that I wanted Legolas. I was letting him control me, letting him prove that I wasn’t any different from him when it came to sexual desire. Wasn’t this supposed to involve emotions other than lecherousness? He was a stranger to me. He did not know my mind, but Valar help me, he knew my body, and for the moment that’s all that mattered. But my internal struggle dominated my ability to let go, and I knew I would regret my next move.
I pushed him and he released me, looking up at me through those long dark lashes. His lips were red and swollen from his work. My body ached for release, but I had to regain control. I couldn’t allow myself this unrestrained way of thinking. In Lothlórien, this would be my end if I behaved in such a rash manner. That’s how it was. That’s how it had always been. And I realized that I didn’t know how to let go as Legolas wished me to do.
“You must stop. I … I can’t,” I pleaded, my breath still heavy.
He smiled deviously. “I don’t believe you.”
“No … you’ve tricked me. You’ve played with my mind,” I accused, trying to justify my loss of control.
Legolas stood straight so that we were eye to eye again. “I didn’t do anything that you didn’t want done. Admit it, Rúmil. You want me just as much as I want you.”
“No,” I demanded. “I can’t want you. I can’t be with you. We are too different. You’re the King’s son, for Eru’s sake. It’s wrong.”
“Does it feel wrong?” His fingers caught my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“Y … yes,” I stuttered, trying to convince myself, but doing a bad job of it.
Legolas looked down at my lap, licked his lips, smiled and rolled his eyes up to gaze at me. “Your cock would say otherwise.” He moved back to give me some space and continued. “Do you think I would just fuck anyone who crossed my path? Do you think I’m some deviant who doesn’t care where I shove my prick? If you do, then you misunderstand me, and I’m a little hurt by that.”
“I don’t know what to think of you. You play this game so well. You’ve made me think I could be like you.”
“Do you really think all you are … all you can be is a soldier of Lothlórien who must obey all the rules, sacrifice happiness, sneak around in the shadows, and dream of a normal life someday? Rúmil, I want to set you free. I want you to know that it doesn’t have to seem like such a dismal life. You have a right to be happy, to fall in love or lust, to have both if you so desire. When I met you, I sensed a tortured soul. But more than that, I was drawn to you. There’s something unique about you, something you haven’t discovered yet. You are beautiful, Rúmil, but your constraints dull your true nature.”
“My constraints?” I asked, curiously.
“Yes, you’re bound to your life in Lórien. Always do the right thing. Never show your love for another. Keep your true emotions hidden. Be careful who you open up to. How can you live like this and not be scarred? Well, we’re all scarred. You have lost your lover, but you still live as though he will be back tomorrow.”
“I live like this because I still have hope,” I argued.
“Alright, and what if he came back? Then what?” he asked seriously.
I was silent. I didn’t have an answer. What indeed. I knew Legolas was right. There could be no future for me, even if Túron were to come back. Yet, I felt a need to wait for him.
“Your silence is my answer,” Legolas said, and he climbed out of the pool. He walked to the stone bench and dried himself with a towel. “Look, what I’m offering you is not a commitment or a promise. It’s nothing but an escape, a chance for you to revisit what it is that makes you Rúmil. You are already tortured, that much I can see. It keeps you from your full potential. Release your ghosts, and live for today.” He dressed, but he carried his boots and walked barefoot through the bath house. When he reached the door, he turned and smiled. “Now you know what I want and how I feel. I’ll not force you to do anything you don’t want to. You’ll probably be leaving in the morning anyways. Take heed my words, Rúmil. You are so much more than what you’ve become. Live life to the fullest. You never know what tomorrow brings, especially now. Good night, Captain.” With that, he bowed and left.
I sat there at the edge of the pool, my emotions swirling around like the water at my feet. How was it that a simple Wood elf knew more about me than I knew about myself? For almost a year, I’d survived on a lie. Túron was gone and he wouldn’t be back, yet I went on thinking that it would all change. I would fight at the borders. The enemy would retreat, and with any luck, Túron would come back. I was a fool to think that. Legolas knew exactly what he was saying when he made me realize that even if Túron came back, it could never be. Sure, I tried to put him out of my mind, but I kept thinking that any moment … any day, I would look up and there he’d be. I was putting too much faith in this falsity, so much that I had been living in a fake world, biding my time for a day that would never come. This was no way to live.
So, what was I to do? Well, for starters, I would talk to the King in the morning, finish our conversation, force his answer, and leave. All of a sudden, going home didn’t seem so welcoming. What was I going home to? I really didn’t know this time. Another battle was probably taking place. My brother’s would be at the borders, fighting for our home and our freedom. I couldn’t join them. I’d have to wait for them to return. I would also have the council waiting for me to answer more questions about something that happened a year ago, long enough that it didn’t matter anymore. Only Raenor would keep this scandal alive. At least he had something to look forward to. I would go home and find no family, no troops, no … love. I would return to my false life and carry on as I always had.
I looked at the carafe of wine. There was still a bit left. “Shame to let it go to waste,” I said, and poured another glass, slipping back into the warm water. The heat surrounded my body, making me revisit the moment that had just played out here. Legolas' lips were so strong, just like him. He was so sure of himself. And he called me fearless? I couldn’t see it, but obviously he saw something in me that peeked his curiosity. By the gods, I’d been engulfed in his mouth not long ago. I throbbed to life just thinking about it. And just as I was beginning to let myself go, I closed that door too. I started to berate myself for stopping him. It had been so long since anyone had paid me any attention. And he was so good. His tongue, his lips, the amount of pressure he used … ai, he knew exactly what he was doing. What harm would have come if I’d let him finish me? Yet, if I had, I wouldn’t have learned the things he’d taught me about myself. And now, here I sat all alone.
I didn’t have to be, I told myself. How many elves get to experience the attentions of a Prince? Nothing held Legolas back. He was free to be himself. All elves of Mirkwood were. I’d always wished to know what it was like to not have to hide. Legolas was telling me I could have that experience if I wished. Why didn’t I? Because it was bred into me to behave like that. Again, he was completely right about my dedication to Lórien. I gave them my talent, my time, my very soul if it was needed, and in return I just had to pretend to be someone else.
Suddenly, I wanted to rebel. I wanted to be that beast Legolas said dwelled within me. Whether it was the wine or the residual lust of the previous moment, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. There was someone here that admired me, someone that wanted me, someone who saw my potential, and now I wished to show him everything. I was up and out of the pool before I knew what I was doing. I toweled off as quickly as I could and dressed.
My mind wasn’t thinking straight as I left the bath house in pursuit of the Prince, and after a few twists and turns, I was lost. I thought I remembered the way, but I was mistaken. The corridors all looked the same to me. Now, I roamed aimlessly, hoping to find something that looked familiar. It dawned on me that even if I could find my way back to the main hall, I wouldn’t know where to look for Legolas. I didn’t know his schedule or his routine. I didn’t even know where his private rooms were, having never been there before. I had missed my opportunity with the Prince. He was right there, I pushed him away, and now I couldn’t find him. This was surely my last night in Mirkwood. I’d be gone in the morning. Well, I said to myself, if it was truly meant to be . . .
“Are you lost?” someone asked from behind. I turned and found an elleth carrying a stack of clean rags.
I smiled, embarrassed to admit it. “I’m afraid I’ve made a wrong turn somewhere. Could you point me . . .” Point me where? I could ask her where Legolas’ room was. Would she tell me? Would she care? “. . . towards the guest quarters?” Damn it!
“Certainly,” she replied cheerfully, glad to be able to help. “You can walk with me until we get to the healing hall. That’s where I’m heading. From there, I’ll tell you where to go.”
“Thank you very much,” I said, following her down the hallway.
“New to Mirkwood?” she asked, making small talk.
“It’s my first visit. I’ve been here for a few weeks now, but I still don’t know my way around.”
“The palace was meant to be confusing to outsiders. Should there be an invasion–” she said sadly.
“Which I’m sure there will not be,” I interrupted to comfort her. “I’m a guest of the Prince, and I’ve come to know him. I believe you are very secure within the palace, much more so than if you were above ground.”
“You are from Lothlórien.” she said. “I can tell by your dress.”
“Yes, but I’ll be leaving in the morning.”
“Well, may the Valar watch over you so that you shall safely return to your home.” By now we were somewhere familiar. I recognized the torch lit hall of the healing rooms. The elleth gave me directions to the guest quarters. I thanked her and was on my way.
It was a good distraction, meeting the elleth and discussing general things and commonalities. It gave me a chance to let the wine work its way out of my system. I realized I was about to make a mistake with the Prince. I was close to giving myself to him, throwing caution away and to ‘just be’, as he put it. Perhaps I wasn’t ready to move on yet. As long as there was the slightest bit of hope within my heart, I wasn’t sure I could give up my dream of having a normal life. If it was fated to be, I’d still be in the bath house, but I chose differently. Whether I regretted that decision or not … well, a part of me did regret it. A part of me saw a chance to experience something I’d never have in Lothlórien. Just once, I wish I could know what it was like not to hide, to live out there amongst everyone else, to not be judged or held accountable for who I was. Should I have let it play out with Legolas?
I’d made it back to the guest quarters and started to turn the corner where my room was located. “Damn it all,” I whispered to myself, feeling the remorse for my hasty decision to turn him away. I should have just let things happen and then maybe . . .
“What took you so long? Got lost?” he said in that sexy voice with an irresistible smirk on his face.
Standing by my door was a sight that set every fiber of my being to flame. Legolas had his back to the wall, his head turned towards me, arms hanging at his sides and one foot propped up against the stone. He was still barefoot, I noticed … his boots sitting on the floor next to my door. His shirt was half way unbuttoned, and I could see his chest heaving as his breath quickened with anxiety. I didn’t say a word. I just marched down that hall, which suddenly seemed a thousand leagues long. And when I reached him, I stared into those stormy blue eyes. This was my second chance, and I would not throw it away this time. I captured his lips, kissing him hard and long. His hands went to my waist, but I took them and raised them above his head, pinning him to the wall. I pushed my hips against his, and we felt each other’s desire through our leggings. We were both ready, and not for a slow tender love session.
“I want you too, Legolas,” I said, responding to what he’d admitted back in the bath house. I pulled him from the wall, kicked open my door and took him inside my room. Our hands were all over each other, grasping at fistfuls of fabric, undoing buttons and untying leather laces. Out of pure frustration, I ripped his shirt from his body. Legolas only smiled deviously and shucked the torn shirt from his shoulders. We left a trail of clothes from the door to the bed, and found ourselves completely naked by the time we got there. We didn’t stop there, though. Legolas crawled onto the bed and I followed, straddling him, leaning down and kissing him desperately. There was no time for proper preparation. I wanted him fast and hard before I talked myself out of it again. There didn’t seem to be much chance of that. I was too far gone, taken by the lust and this gorgeous creature writhing beneath me. He looked only slightly taken aback by my insistence and leadership of the situation. I think Legolas was used to being the one in control, and this was not usually the way he performed.
I spit into my hand a few times, and forced him onto his hands and knees, readying both of us with only my saliva. “You said you wanted the beast,” I whispered from behind, sinking my teeth into his shoulder. “Careful what you wish for.” With that, I plunged into him, burying myself, taking pleasure in his cry of surprise. He was mine now, to do with as I pleased, and he submitted without complaint.
We spoke no words, only cries of passion filled the air as we took turns throughout the night. Legolas finished what he started in the bath house, and then I showed him my gratitude on multiple levels. It was amazing how good we were together, moving like a dance, bringing each other to the brink, pulling back, and then when it was nearly impossible to wait any longer, the passion of our lust blazed brighter than the sun. We pushed one another to our breaking points, never going further than the other was willing to go. Legolas would go quite far, and it allowed me to learn new things about myself, giving me an opportunity to take new steps towards being free of my life long restraints.
I’d never felt so relaxed in all my life. I had no worries at all. No one would come looking for me. No one would interrupt my blissful moment. No one would walk in and find me in a compromising position, and even if they did, it wouldn’t be my end. Maybe that was the reason why I pushed my limits with Legolas. He was a great teacher too, and I learned many things from him that night.
We were completely spent late into the night, and we fell to our slumber in my bed. I slept so sound, as I’d never rested before. The warmth of his body next to me was so comfortable. I loved the feel of his naked flesh against mine, and the fact that if I woke and wanted him, he would be ready. I know because I tried it once that evening. I dreamt of him, or rather, I revisited my memory of our previous session. He had fulfilled all my desires and expectations, my needs and my demands, and as a reward, I took him to new heights. We found ourselves unrestrained and peaked simultaneously. If it was possible to touch the stars, I think I might have been able to at that exact moment. As I woke from my dream, thinking of this, the desire to take him again was overpowering. With just a nip and a kiss, I stirred Legolas from his slumber and brought him standing so we could recreate the moment once again. There was no end to how high I could travel on this skyward path to ecstasy. I loved the control and to be controlled, but mostly, it was knowing that Legolas was not like this with just anyone. He’d been drawn to me specifically, for reasons I didn’t know until now. But this was only temporary. Tomorrow, I would leave for home, back to my secret life, hiding my true identity from those who could use it against me, and from family who wouldn’t understand. At least now, Haldir understood me, but I still couldn’t talk to him about it. We were, after all, soldiers, and I didn’t want to put any more strain on our relationship than was necessary.
“You’re not sleeping,” Legolas said groggily.
The sun was beginning to rise. I’m not sure how I knew except for the fact that I felt it in my bones. “I’ll have to go soon. I have that … meeting … with your father,” I said playfully.
“Yes, that irritatingly obnoxious meeting,” he answered with a sleepy smile. He rolled onto his side, facing me as I lay looking at the ceiling. “And when you get your answer . . .?”
“I’ll have to leave,” I said trying not to sound regretful.
“Must you?” Unlike me, Legolas did not try to hide his disappointment.
“I have to get back to Lothlórien. We are at war. I have troops to lead, and strategies to organize. I’ve already been here far longer than I ever anticipated.”
“And is that such a bad thing?” he said, his finger tracing a path down my chest, my stomach, and lower, dipping beneath the sheets.
“Well, maybe not now, not since you did that thing … with the thing,” I smiled. He’d taken me in his hand and was working me most deliciously.
“So you liked it when I took my thing and your thing, and put that thing–”
“Yes,” I laughed, rolling towards him and capturing his mouth with mine. I kissed him solidly, and then whispered against his lips. “I liked it all, Prince Legolas.”
“Normally I don’t like being called that, but there is something sexy about the way you say it.”
Our naked bodies pressed together as we kissed and caressed. I didn’t want to move from this spot, but I had to, and I pulled away from him. “You’re going to have to get up first.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m finding it extremely difficult to leave you here all alone in my nice warm bed.” I pushed him into the mattress and stretched out on top of him. I really wasn’t ready to face the day just yet. “Maybe one more time,” I whispered between kisses.
Legolas smiled deviously. “Shall I do that thing with my thing and use the thing on your thing?”
I just laughed and gave up on being an early riser.
* * * * *
I was finally up and dressed. Legolas was just finishing with his boots as I sat down at the looking glass to do my braids. I checked myself in the mirror, and found a mark upon my neck, the result of one of our more licentious sessions. “You’ve marked me,” I said.
“I have? Let me see.” Legolas approached me and looked at me through the mirror. “Ai, so I did. Sorry about that,” he said nonchalantly.
“Sorry? That’s all you have to say? There is a big purple welt on my neck in a place where my collar will not cover it, and you’re sorry,” I complained, but not in a serious tone.
He pulled his collar away, exposing his long neck. “Would you like to mark me then? We’ll be even. Everyone will know that we slept together.” He threw his hand over his brow, mocking distress. “Oh, the horror of it all. What will happen when all of Mirkwood discovers that you’ve spent the night with the Prince?”
“Alright, enough,” I said, but he became serious.
“Really, do you know what will happen?”
“They’ll think I seduced you just to get you into my bed,” I guessed.
Legolas picked up a comb and began separating the hair at my temples to make braids. His eyes met mine through the looking glass, brilliant blue eyes that were the color of a cloudless mid-summer’s day. “They will be jealous and wish it were them.”
“Then they’ll say the Prince has added a new notch to his bedpost,” I said, regretting the words as they slipped from my lips.
His fingers stilled in my half-braided hair. I turned my eyes downward. I didn’t want to see his eyes if I’d hurt him. “I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly. “I shouldn’t have said–”
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” I looked up at him, and he had a faraway look on his face. He picked up where he left off with my braid, but he continued more slowly. “Day after day, I sit here beneath the hill, bored with nothing to do while my friends and fellow warriors risk their lives fighting the evil that closes in on us. All I can think is, I should be there with them. The guilt I feel is overwhelming at times. That’s when I go in search of someone who will help me forget it all.” His eyes darted to mine. “But it is not like that with you, Rúmil. You don’t make me forget. You make me want to fight. You give me strength. I can’t explain it, but when we make love, I feel like I can conquer the world.”
“You don’t have to conquer the world, just your father’s decision,” I told him.
“He won’t listen to any of my arguments. That’s why I approached your brother while he visited. I thought that if I couldn’t fight myself, I could organize something through others. If I cannot be there alongside my troops, then they should at least be able to contribute to the war. I’ve known for a while that Mirkwood needs Lothlórien just as much as they need us, and I could have been the one to lead my people along with the Captains of Lórien … but . . .” His words trailed off to silence.
I watched him in the looking glass, while he started another braid, and I realized he was doing it in the fashion of a Mirkwood warrior. I don’t think he meant to on purpose. His mind was on other things as he spoke to me about his problems with his father. There had to be more to that story than he originally led on. “What happened, Legolas? Why does Thranduil fear for his son’s life?” I’d seen him fight, when I accompanied him and the others to kill the orc party and capture their leader. He was nothing short of perfection when in combat. His arrows flew from his bow at record speed, and he could switch to hand to hand combat in the blink of an eye. I had seen him slaughter the orcs one after another, using his twin long knives. Flawless elvish blades flashed through the air so fast that it looked like sparks of lightening flying from his hands. He took off one of the orcs heads, his blade slicing through its neck as though it was made of paper. It was like watching an artist paint a canvas, or a poet constructing his words. Legolas was the best Mirkwood had, so why was his father keeping his most worthy weapon hidden away?
“Do you remember the soldier we saw in the healing hall, the one who was bitten on the leg?” he asked.
“Yes, the one whose leg they took to save his life.” I remembered it very well. I remembered Legolas most of all, when he comforted the young soldier, kept him from going into shock. I’d never seen anyone show such altruistic behavior towards someone they didn’t not know. It was as though there was some common knowledge between them, as though Legolas shared the soldier’s pain, and that could only be because . . .
“You were bitten once, weren’t you?” I asked with concern.
Legolas nodded. “While out on patrol with my troops, we were ambushed by a cluster of spiders. Almost half of my regiment was either dead or dying by the time it was all over. I’d been bitten on the arm. It was quick and the fangs did not sink in very far, but enough for it to administer its poison. My men surrounded me, and discussed their plans for getting me back to the palace quickly. But in doing so, they would have to abandon some of the others that needed attention faster than me. I ordered them to take the others first. I could still walk with a little help. The poison was spreading, but not as fast as it was in other injured elves. I wouldn’t be placed on a liter and carried back by ten men, when they could save ten more. Needless to say, I made it back to the palace, though during the final stretch, I had lost consciousness and had to be carried. It didn’t matter. Quite a few elves were saved because of my orders. My father was furious, though. At first, he berated my troops for their impetuous behavior, until I told him that they acted upon my orders. That was the last thing I said before I went unconscious. When I awoke, a week had passed, and my arm was badly discolored and bandaged. The infected flesh had been removed and salves had been applied that would allow new skin to develop. That’s why there is no scar. It was a long and painful recovery, but it worked. And it was worth every torturous moment, because all but two of my soldiers who were poisoned survived.”
He had finished braiding my hair while he told his story. Now he went to my bed and sat on the edge, memories flashing before his unseeing eyes. I could tell this was painful for him to remember, but I could also see that he needed to tell someone his story. I got the feeling Legolas had never discussed this with anyone. “But you survived. You made a full recovery. You made the best decision you could at the time, and saved others in the process. Why would your father punish you for that?”
“Because during my week long healing sleep, I died twice,” he answered.
I was shocked to hear this. “You … died?”
He nodded. “They say my heart stopped beating. Somehow, the healers managed to bring me back both times, some kind of technique that they’d studied in some lost archives or what not. I don’t really remember the details, but whatever it was, it worked, and I am still here. However, the experience left my father shattered. Twice he thought he’d lost his son and only heir. I think it put everything in perspective somehow. He had watched my grandfather, King Oropher, die in combat. He had found my mother’s lifeless body, left beaten and bloody from the orcs who found her alone in her garden. And then he watched as his only son slipped through his fingers. It had been too much for him, and if I died, Thranduil would be alone in this world. So, after that, he put restrictions on leaving the palace and how far our soldiers should patrol the surrounding area. He took away my Captain position, and ordered me to assume a position in his court. I wasn’t allowed to patrol anymore. I wasn’t allowed above ground for a very long time, not until I convinced him that it was making me sick to stay away from sunlight for so long, which it truly was. I was escorted on weekly outings. It was during this time that I started recruiting some of my old troop members, including Corweth and her sister, Messel, to come up with a plan that would possibly free all of us. As a member of the court, I had a little flexibility and pull. That’s how your brother was given permission to come to Mirkwood. He was introduced to my father, and eventually they built a trust between them. And all the while, he knew about my plan. When he told me that he was seeking help from Mirkwood to fight against the dark tower of Dol Guldur, I knew this was our chance to fight back … to take back that which belongs to my father and to all who dwell in Mirkwood.”
“But your father is beyond stubborn about it all,” I said, realizing just how much Legolas had to accomplish just to get this far.
“He’d rather stay here, below the hill, than reach out to help other realms. He says it is too risky, that our numbers are too low to contribute to the cause. He thinks it will be the end of his kingdom and his people, and that’s all he has left.”
I took a seat on the bed next to Legolas, and kissed his cheek. “He still has you too. Thranduil wouldn’t go to such lengths to protect you if he didn’t care. He loves you so much that his fear of losing you has impaired his judgment. I understand him a bit better now. Yes, he’s stubborn, but for good reason. But you are right, Legolas. Mirkwood cannot afford to stay out of things. Dol Guldur must be taken. The orcs must be pushed back and your forest must be cleansed. If we don’t work together, we will all lose.”
“It was all my fault that the trust between Haldir and my father was broken. If I hadn’t let the creature out . . . But I felt for him because I could put myself in his place, locked away, no sun, no moon, no fresh air, no one to listen. I looked into the creature’s pitiful eyes and saw myself,” he confessed. “That’s why I ordered him to be allowed one night beneath the stars. I didn’t think it would do anyone any harm.”
“It’s not your fault, Legolas. I would have done the same thing if I was put in your position. We’re all bound in one way or another, aren’t we?” I smiled and stood from the bed. “I have to go. It’s time.”
“Do you really think you can convince my father to join Lórien?” he asked.
I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know, but I will do all that I can to make that happen. In the end, it is up to your father.”
As Legolas and I walked the corridors in silence, making our way to the throne room, I thought about what I’d told him, and I suddenly felt very helpless. I could talk to Thranduil until my lungs ached and my throat turned to dust, but none of that would matter if he refused to listen. It really was the King’s final decision, and it could mean the life or death of this realm.
When I first arrived here, I didn’t care a thing about the Wood elves. I saw this trip as my own punishment, and all of this was just a nuisance. But as I’d gotten to know some of them, especially Legolas, I started to understand them, and I realized that Wood elves were the most misunderstood elves of Middle-earth. They weren’t uncaring arrogant hoarders of fortune who didn’t want to participate in the outside world. They were the most passionate people I’d ever met, willing to sacrifice their freedom as they tried to protect and preserve their race. They deserved better, and I would do everything within my limited power to see that it was done.
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Path of Honor-Part II: Far From Home