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Path of Honor-Part II: Far From Home	By : IdrilsSecret Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4869 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter Seven

If there was one thing I learned about Wood elves, it was that they never missed an opportunity for a celebration. After successfully turning back the orcs at the river and the minimal number of injured elves returning from the battle, King Thranduil announced that there would be a celebration in honor of the brave warriors and their victory. We had one night to rest, upon our return, but the following evening would be a celebration of grand proportions. There would be dancing, food, wine, and entertainment that would surely last long into the night. It had been a long time since I attended such festivities. I was rather excited to see how Wood elves made merry. Lothlórien had their fair share of such merriment, of course. We did not have a gallant affair for every victory, and we would have considered something like the battle at the river just another day at the borders. I could see why it was important to the Wood elves. Living as they did, they needed to separate themselves from the looming darkness whenever the chance arose.
Tonight, though, was our first night back at the palace, and the returning warriors were exhausted. Legolas stayed with me in my guest quarters. We were not long for the conscious world, and we slept soundly beside each other. When I woke late in the night, he hadn’t moved at all, and Legolas, as I’d learned during my stay here, was a light sleeper.
It was his first time back with his regiment in a long time. He had fallen back in step, as though he’d been fighting all this time. I could tell his warriors were just as glad to have him back. I think he was worried, though. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind until now, seeing him in deep elvish sleep. What worried him most, I wondered. Was he afraid he’d forgotten how to fight, how to command, or was he scared that he’d lost the respect and discipline of his troops? Whatever it was, he learned that nothing had changed, and there had never been anything to fear.
I thought about the moment when we stood back to back, slashing our swords, killing the oncoming orcs. We were a perfect match in battle. It was euphoric to fight alongside him. I’d known that before it had happened, as I made my way to him. All I could think was that I needed to be as close to him as possible, to feel his glorious power and strength. How could this magnificent creature be kept away from what he was, from what he did best? Well, I thought with a smirk, one of the things he did best.
By the gods, Legolas was an amazing lover. I thought of our private moment amongst the ruins. The way he held me in his hand, and brought me to such great heights, I sighed. I’d never experienced anything so sensational in all my life. Being with him was addictive, my one dirty little cryptic habit. What would they say in Lothlórien if they knew I took a savage Wood elf as a lover? If only they knew what I knew, then they’d all be jealous, or they would want one of their own. But Legolas wasn’t something to own. He wasn’t tamable, and that’s what I liked best. He was a free spirit, and he had taught me a lot.
When I finally went home, I would miss this. I would miss the freedom I was allowed in Mirkwood. I would miss Legolas. This was something I didn’t want to admit, but it was true. There was something about him that no one else could replicate. And I knew he felt similarly about me, but I think it was stronger for Legolas. This was when two individual must be very careful about their relationship. To a degree, that’s what Legolas and I had. For me, I wasn’t sure what I felt towards Legolas. Was it love? Well, not true, mad about you, connecting with our souls love. I’d loved like that once already, and this was nothing as emotionally binding. It wasn’t just lust either. I cared for him, and I knew I would think about him often when he was not around. I couldn’t put my finger on it. My feelings for Legolas hadn’t always been the same, not like they were when I met Túron.
With Túron, it felt like a whirlwind. I knew right away that I loved him, and when I learned that he returned the feelings, it felt like floating above the ground. It sounds ridiculous, but there is no other way to explain it. I was light-headed, light in the feet, light in the chest, fluttering like the moth within my heart. I only ever felt that one emotion towards Túron, and it was wonderful while it lasted. But it hurt tremendously when he was gone. The lightness wasn’t there. I was heavy and burdened, as though I was filled suddenly with rock and sand. I still felt like that when I came to Mirkwood, though not as weighted. I had managed to unload some of the heavier pieces, if that makes any sense.
As far as things went with Legolas, my feelings for him had evolved during my stay. At first, I thought he was pompous and arrogant. I saw him as the epitome of all Wood elves, and the spoiled son of their stubborn king. But as I got to know him, my impression of him changed as well as my feelings for him. I enjoyed learning about Mirkwood, about Wood elves, and Legolas. I helped him find his voice with his father, and he helped me learn to be a free spirit. We each took the strongest parts of our personalities and taught the other how to change, to conform, to be more complete. And in the process, I slowly learned to like him, to feel close to him, to love him, but in a different more mature way than I had loved Túron. With Túron, there was nothing to evolve into. Like I said before, it was a whirlwind romance cut short. For Legolas and I, it was a slow process of getting acquainted, becoming aware of each other’s personalities, consciousness of our wants and needs, filling our voids, blending, molding, merging together, completing each other.
That was it, wasn’t it? Legolas and I had to complete this process, making us more appreciative of each other. Túron and I were already who we were, and we either couldn’t, wouldn’t or didn’t want to change. We just loved each other deeply, and we didn’t need anything more from each other. I thought it was enough, but maybe it wouldn’t have been if we had been allowed the opportunity. I’d known Legolas for a shorter amount of time, but I felt like I knew him better than I ever knew Túron. But that doesn’t erase the devotion I felt for my first true love. All I wanted was to have him back in my life, to make it work for us. It would mean having to live our secret lives together, and I was fine with that. However, since coming to Mirkwood, and experiencing life here, living out in the open, free from judgment, I wasn’t sure I could go back to a secret life, not with someone I really cared about.
So the question remained. Did I love Legolas? Well, I would miss him when I left, and I already knew that I could hardly wait to see him again, though it might be a long time. And when that day came, I would fall under his spell of enchantment, and revel in the ecstasy of becoming one with him again. Suddenly, a long time seemed like too long.
Legolas shifted in his sleep, his arm snaking over my bare stomach as he pulled me into him. I think I could get used to this, and it scared me, because the one thing I knew for a fact was that anyone I had ever loved eventually had to go away. Though Legolas and I couldn’t reside together, I feared something might happen that would keep me from ever returning to him. Perhaps for now it was better that I didn’t give in any more to my feelings, and just let things be what they were. I would have to leave for home soon anyways. There was no use trying to figure this all out. As far as I was concerned, we enjoyed each other’s company, and we had earth-shattering sex. I should just leave it at that.
Legolas’ face nuzzled against my neck, and he moaned as he came out of his slumber. Then, his hips gyrated, and his hardening cock pushed against my thigh. The feel of it made my own pulse to life. I had to admit, there was nothing better than waking aroused and lying next to a willing partner. This, I would remember. This, I would miss.
“I need you, Rúmil,” he whispered sleepily.
“I can tell,” I answered, my voice clear and alert.
“You’re already awake?” he asked.
I nodded and reached out, taking him in my hand, lightly stroking him. “Anything wrong?” he said.
“Just thinking that I must be leaving soon,” I admitted. I had to keep myself from getting too comfortable.
“You’ve been saying that since you first got here,” he smiled against my neck, warm lips kissing my sensitive skin. “And you’re still here.”
“Not by my choice.” I cringed as the last word passed my lips. Now, I was trying too hard.
Legolas sat up on his elbow and looked down at me. “I thought it was partially your choice.” There was a bit of an edge to his voice.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said apologetically. “My visit here has been … unique. I came here with only one mission, and so much more has happened. You know that.”
“And it’s not over yet. There’s still the celebration tonight,” he reminded me as he resumed his soft kisses.
“About that–”
“Oh no. You’re not getting out of it.” Legolas threw his leg over both of mine, trapping me. He must have sensed my need for escape.
“I have nothing to wear to such a festival, and I doubt my uniform or my riding clothes will be acceptable. From what I’ve heard, these are quite elegant affairs.”
“You’ll wear something of mine.” He didn’t have a care in the world, and I was nothing but concerned. He moved so that our cocks touched and rubbed against each other. Then his hand came down, and he took us both, locking us together as he stroked. I gave in immediately, and wondered how I could not have feelings for Legolas.
“You’ll spoil me, and I may never want to leave.” I kissed his cheek and ran my tongue along the edge of his jaw line, targeting his ear, nibbling my way to the perfect tip.
A satisfied laugh bubbled up from his throat in answer to my comment. His grip firmed upon our joined cocks, and he threw his head back into his pillow, exposing the ivory skin of his long neck. It was an invitation to more than just kissing. He was inviting me to know this kind of luxury every day, if only I would stay in Mirkwood. The conscious thought of the reality of that invitation niggled at the back of my mind, but I pushed it aside for the moment. Not now, I thought. Not while we were enjoying the contentment of waking together without interruption. I’d never had so many moments like this one. This kind of private bliss only happened every now and then for me, but since giving in to Legolas, we had spent almost every morning waking to each other. But this was only temporary. I couldn’t be with Legolas outside of this place. It wasn’t my home, and I needed to get back there.
“Don’t fight it,” Legolas said out of nowhere, as though he had been reading my thoughts. It wasn’t difficult to do. I had lost concentration and I wasn’t responding to his strokes as I was a moment ago. “It’s just like we agreed. While you are here, you are mine and I am yours. Relax and stop thinking, Rúmil. You think too much.” As he spoke, his grip tightened, and the heat from his hand made our skin sticky. I offered my hand and his moved his up. He kneaded us close to our bodies while I rubbed our heads, spreading the pearly essence that was the result of our anticipation. Our hands moved in unison, stroking longer and faster. We kissed, our tongues sliding over each other, mouths devouring. Our breath became erratic, as the sexual desire built deep within, swirling, growing, coming to the surface. I could feel him pulsating, and it made me respond, catching up with him.
“Are you close?” I asked.
“So close,” he breathed airily. “You?”
“Oh gods, yes,” I whispered. It was enough to make sure we were at the same height of passion. I adjusted my hand, and with both of us in my palm, I knew what to do to make us come together.
Legolas released just a second before I did. I watched him splash between our stomachs, and then I joined him. Our hands were slick, milking every last bit. We moaned and shuddered against each other, letting the sensations wash over us like a satiny wave. And I realized how attune we were in mind and body … and it wasn’t just sex. We fought beside each other with the same kind of synchronization. It was as though our minds melded whenever our adrenaline surged. No one on this earth had ever had that effect on me. It felt incredible and shocking. It was a rush. It was addictive, and I found myself craving it more and more.
* * * * *
Later that day, I went to Legolas’ room to see what I would wear. He wasn’t there, but one of his servants was, and several gorgeous outfits were laid out upon his bed. The servant, a young elleth with honey hair and green eyes, finished smoothing down the last outfit, and turned when she heard me enter the room. Right away she smiled warmly, the kind of smile that was contagious … that made you want to smile back and engage her in conversation.
“You must be Rúmil of Lothlórien,” she sang, and I noticed she did not call me Captain. “Legolas told me you were coming, and he asked me to help you choose something for tonight.” She seemed very excited to have this current job. I got the feeling that she didn’t get the chance to dress Legolas very often. By the looks of the clothes she’d picked, I could tell she had very extravagant taste. Legolas dressed in simple tunic and leggings, only wearing his royal garb when the occasion called for it.
“They are all very lavish, maybe too much for someone like me,” I gestured to the clothes.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You are a guest of Mirkwood, and of the Prince, no less. Only the finest will do. Anything strike your fancy?”
I looked at the clothes. Considering them for a moment. There were three outfits, each one very different. The first was a beautiful green tunic with white silk leaves embroidered upon the front. They flowed from the shoulders and ran down to the waist. It had a high collar, just like the style Legolas always wore. It looked good on Legolas’ long smooth neck, but I wasn’t sure it would look good on me. Dark green leggings and brown boots finished the look.
The other two didn’t seem to do much for me. They were basic leggings and tunic, one silver, one dark grey. The silver one had a floor length coat in a very light green, silk embroidery upon the entire coat with gold leaves. Very rich, very beautiful, but very royal in appearance. The other one, the dark grey, shimmered in the lamp light. The coat for that outfit was a rich shade of red, something expensive and velvety. I loved the color, but again, it was a bit over the top for my taste.
“I think I like the green one the best,” I decided.
The servant smiled, satisfied with my choice. “That one is my favorite. Shall I help you dress?”
“No thank you. I believe I can handle this myself.”
She bowed and went to the door. “You may get dressed here. The Prince will be back shortly. He’ll be very pleased with your choice.” She left, closing the door behind her.
It was still odd to be so open and free. The servant girl never batted an eye at the thought of Legolas and I going to the dance together. At least, I assumed we were. What if I was wrong? What if the people of Mirkwood did not want to see Legolas enter the hall with an ellon upon his arm? Maybe they were expecting an elleth. In Lothlórien, it would never have been acceptable for me to walk in with another male in that fashion.
I pushed the thoughts aside and dressed. Just as I was finishing up, Legolas came in, still wearing his clothes from this morning. “Busy day?” I asked comfortably, like a spouse coming home after a long day of work.
“When is it not?” he answered in a similar fashion. He paused to look me over from head to feet. “You look quite handsome.”
“Thank you,” I smiled confidently.
“I can’t wait to get you out of it already,” he said in an unexpected lust filled growl.
“Well, we can always skip the festivities and get straight to–”
“Dance first,” Legolas interrupted. “Really, Rúmil, there is nothing to fret about.” He approached and helped me tighten the brown laces on the front of the tunic, and the silver clasp at the collar.
“So, what happens at these dances in Mirkwood? Do we show up with an elleth on our arm to make a good impression?” I asked, tugging at the collar. I could already tell that this was going to be uncomfortable. I didn’t like the way it rubbed against the front of my neck.
“Only if you wish to invite an elleth to go with you,” Legolas said, inspecting me. “Your hair.”
“What about it?” I began to complain.
“No braids tonight. Wear it loose, and only tie back the sides,” he suggested. I went to a mirror and table on the other side of the room and he followed me. “Here, let me,” he offered, picking up a comb.
I sat down and let him do my hair. His fingers were gentle and deliberate as they ran through my silver strands. I smiled and huffed a laugh. “I don’t think anyone has ever combed my hair for me before.”
“Not even your mother?”
“Well, besides her, and that was when I was just an elfling.” I closed my eyes and enjoyed the pampering.
“You have gorgeous hair, like the finest silver silk thread,” he complimented. Legolas gathered it at the sides and brought it to the back, finishing it with a silver barrette shaped like . . . “A mallorn leaf?”
“Yes, a gift from your brother, actually, the first time he came here.”
That made me slightly uneasy. I couldn’t picture Haldir giving gifts, especially something as personal as a clasp for one’s hair. “I didn’t know he showered you with gifts,” I said a little bitterly.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say showered.” Legolas’ lips thinned into a straight line, and his eyes narrowed. “Are you jealous?” he accused.
“Of course not,” I answered on the defensive, but suddenly I was overwhelmed to know exactly what might have transpired between Legolas and Haldir. “You and my brother … did you ever …”
“Make mad love to each other?” Legolas finished for me, but a bit more colorfully that I would have put it. He laughed in a way that made me nervous and not but a little put out.
“Sweet Eru, you did!” I shouted, disgusted by the thought. “And all this time, you never bothered to tell me that you and Haldir–” I stopped as he burst into laughter.
“Oh Rúmil, you should have seen your face just now. No, of course I didn’t sleep with your brother. What do you take me for? Do you think I’d jump into bed with any outsider to visit Mirkwood? Ease your perverted mine. I never even made the slightest pass at Haldir. Not my type. Too stuffy for my taste.”
That was a relief. The thought that Haldir and I had slept with the same person made my stomach do flips. “Although,” he continued, and I cringed. “I believe he might have met someone while he was here. I don’t know who, though. Haldir never did conform to our ways here in Mirkwood. He kept his secret, and no one ever inquired about it.”
“Was that why Haldir came here so many times?” I wondered aloud.
“With Haldir, it was always work first, but I guess you already know that. He came with the sole purpose of convincing my father to join Lothlórien and fight the dark evils of Dol Guldur. Any extracurricular activities he might have engaged in were his own business, and he didn’t want anyone else to know. I don’t think he ever truly trusted the Wood elves. Perhaps he thought we might use it against him. We would never do that, of course. Mirkwood has very strict rules about that. We take care of our own realm, and we don’t get involved in the concerns of outsiders or other realms.”
“That’s good to know,” I muttered, and Legolas gave me a questioning look.
“Do you think I would tell anyone from Lothlórien about us?” He seemed a little annoyed.
“No, not you, but … the thought has crossed my mind. There’s your father, who I don’t think likes me all that much. And Corweth and I have bumped heads more than a few times.”
Legolas gave me a hard glare and stood in front of me to make sure he had my full attention. “We are not like that here. We would never do something like that, no matter whether you got along with someone or not. While within Mirkwood, we are responsible for our own, and our guests. Outside of the kingdom, we might abide by the rules of the realm we are in, but we do not divulge anything about our homeland, and that includes our visitors.” He looked angry and he sounded offended.
“And you have to understand that where I come from, there are those who would do anything to get ahead, and that includes using such information to better themselves,” I challenged. “I’ve always had to be on the defensive, and especially after joining the army. I think about these sort of things because I must constantly be aware.”
Legolas just stood there, shaking his head slowly back and forth. “I don’t know how you can live like that, Rúmil.”
“I have no other choice. I don’t have the freedom that you have here. But regardless, it is my begetting place, and they are my people. I love my home, and in return, I must follow the rules.”
His face softened and he cupped my face in his palm. I couldn’t help see pity flash across his eyes, gone with a single blink. Legolas smiled warmly, changing as quickly as a flint strike. “Tonight, you will not have to worry about any of that. You are going with me, as my guest, and they will all be jealous, male and female alike. As he spoke, he adjusted my collar, and smoothed the front with the palm of his hand. “This looks good on you. A little extra room across the chest, but it fits you well enough,” he teased.
“Arse,” I mumbled with a smile. “Admit it. You know it looks better on me,” I jested in return.
“Now who’s the arse,” he said, and slapped me hard in the place he just mentioned.
“Oh,” I mocked surprise. “Is this something I should look forward to when we return to my room?” I let go the tension of the previous moment, turning to something more playful.
“Maybe … if we make it that far. I just might have to steal you away in some alcove and have my way with you.”
“Promise?” I said in a wanton manner.
His hands grasped my waist, pulling me into his chest as he kissed me, and I melted into him. It didn’t take much. Legolas knew how to work me into a frenzy with only a look or a kiss. When he pulled away, he nuzzled my ear, taking the lobe in his teeth and biting gently. “You need to remember where you are, Rúmil. If I want to do this to you tonight, I will … in front of everyone, and especially when the attention is on us.” His warm breath glided around to the back of my neck, making my spine tingle. “Some might be jealous. Some might envy you for capturing the attention of their Prince. For all I know, we might inspire a few to give into their carnal desires. But no one will ever tell us we cannot show our affection for each other. No one will say it is unacceptable behavior and cast us out. Here, we live how we want to live. We love who we want to love. And as long as you are a guest, you will be treated as one of our own. Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded in reply, but I couldn’t help question something he said, one word in particular … love. I was fairly sure he was only using it as an example, and not admitting to anything. Still, it scared me a bit to hear him say it. A year ago, I would have said that I’d never love another after Túron. Legolas was making me question that. At the same time, I feared the curse that seemed to follow me. If I even thought that I loved Legolas, I was afraid it would end, just like it had in the past.
But what if he loved me? Could I deny him, tell him we mustn’t and keep things as they were between us? Could we just see each other every now and again, and ravish each other until I had to leave? That could be enough, couldn’t it? And if I never admitted anything beyond desire for him, I might beat the curse.
* * * * *
A pair of guards opened the tall wooden doors of the main hall, and Legolas and I walked in side by side. All eyes were upon us as we made our way along the center aisle to the dance floor. Legolas was dressed in his finest, all sparkling in silver, from his undershirt to his floor length coat, and even his knee high boots. And upon his head he wore a mithril circlet with a single teardrop shaped emerald. His hair was like mine, the sides pulled back, held in place by the circlet instead of a hair clasp like mine. He was absolutely gorgeous, the coat form fitting at the waist and shoulders, accentuating his archer body.
Instead of a coat, I opted for a cape, dark green velvet, lined in silver. It billowed out as I walked, the finely made tunic showing underneath. We were a sight, Legolas and me, all green and silver, fair haired and tall, and I had to admit that we made a handsome couple.
We were announced by our rightful names, Prince Legolas of the Woodland realm and Captain Rúmil of Lothlórien, two names that I’m sure most would never have thought to hear in the same sentence. When we were approaching the dance floor, two servants came out, one taking Legolas’ coat, the other taking my cape. Then he turned to me, and I to him. We bowed, hand over heart, and then he took my elbow, leading me to the dance floor. As soon as our feet touched the special area, the musicians started playing a lovely, but slow tune. I didn’t realize at first, but the song was something very familiar to me. It was the same song I’d heard many times at the dances I had attended in Lothlórien. I looked at Legolas and he smiled.
“In honor of our guest,” he said. “A song from your home.”
“And do you know the dance that accompanies this song?” I asked in a haughty manner, for surely he didn’t know, but I would teach him. To my amazement, Legolas backed away from me and took a leg, the first step of the dance. Usually, his partner would be an elleth, and she would answer with a curtsy, and I realized that I would have to alter a few of the steps.
“Of course I know it, Rúmil. Part of my responsibilities as Prince, you see. I must know all the elvish dances,” he said as he went into the next part, offering me his arm. I took it and we walked in a tight circle, our eyes locked on each other. He pulled me to him and whispered in my ear. “I won’t lead the whole dance. We’ll share. It will look more natural that way.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” I said.
“We seem to do that a lot, don’t you think?” We separated, but held each other at the wrist. The next move would be for the male to pull the female back to him, but Legolas had hesitated. It was my turn to lead.
“I’ve noticed,” I answered, and drew him to me until our chests nearly touched. He did not turn around, which was what the elleth would have done, but Legolas wanted us to stay face to face. I thought he was challenging me, especially knowing how uncomfortable I was.
“It is not a common thing to happen, two separate entities sharing thoughts and moves, knowing what the other will do or say before it happens.” As he spoke we continued with the dance, carefully stepping side by side, changing direction, coming apart and then drawing back together.
“I do feel very at ease with you,” I commented, and we were face to face again, only a hair’s width between our lips.
His eyes burned like blue flames, heating me deep within. “And the sex is phenomenal.”
“The best part,” I said, feeling myself be seduced by him. I was like the moth who was scorched by the flame, drawn in by temptation only to be led to its downfall. But my moth was safely contained by the glass dome of my heart.
“And yet,” he started, and I could hear it in his tone.
“Legolas, you know I cannot stay,” I said to keep the conversation away from the subject.
“What if things were different? What choice would you make?” he asked.
I thought about that for a moment. “That’s a very big ‘what if’. If I wasn’t a soldier? If I didn’t have my brothers to get back to? If I didn’t have responsibilities to my men?”
“If you thought there was a chance for you and me,” he said, surprising me.
“Legolas–” I started, my voice low.
“All this time I’ve not said a thing about it,” he interrupted. “I’ve let it be, let us enjoy what we have so far, but I cannot keep this to myself anymore.”
“Please don’t,” I begged, but he ignored me.
“You can’t deny the fact that we are good together, Rúmil. I know you’ve felt it, but you won’t admit to it, not aloud.” The music played on and our dance steps kept us close together. “Look around you. Do you see anyone scowling with disapproval?”
I started to turn my attention to Thranduil, but Legolas captured me by the chin to keep me from doing it. “He doesn’t count,” he said with a smile.
“Alright, I will admit to being wrong about my initial evaluation of Mirkwood and its people. And I was wrong about its Prince,” I jostled.
“Why, how did you perceive me to be?” He seemed genuinely interested now.
“Pompous, spoiled, arrogant … shall I continue?”
“What in the name of the Valar do they teach you about Wood elves in Lothlórien?” he said, offended.
“But none of it is true,” I continued. “Being here has been a freeing experience. Just look at us, dancing in front of all these onlookers.”
“It will always be like this, but you’ll go home and revert back to your old ways,” he disappointedly said.
“I don’t have a choice,” I argued. “You offered to be my sanctuary, and right now, that’s all I can afford.”
The music was finally ending. Legolas and I bowed as our final dance step, and the onlookers clapped, a few of them shouting something I couldn’t understand. Legolas ignored the crowd, gazing at me as though we were alone. He leaned into me, tilting my head back, his eyes drilling into me. “Alright then, I’ll take that if you’ll not give me anything more, but I have to tell you–”
I didn’t want to hear him say what I was sure he was going to say. There was only one way to stop him, so I kissed him. I kissed the Prince of Mirkwood in front of his warriors, his friends, his father, and I didn’t care what any of them might think about it. The applause grew louder with a few shouts and whistles. I could never have done this in Lothlórien, although, there were times I wish I could have. I wish I could have proclaimed my feelings for Túron without judgment or worry. Perhaps we would still be together if I could have done that.
Legolas pulled away, his eyes settling on mine, and I knew the remnants of my thoughts of Túron were visible. But he smiled anyways, that warm embracing smile that said he would let me in if I asked. All I had to do was ask, but I couldn’t. And the niggling in the back of my mind wriggled free, the one that said ‘just think about it’. And I felt a slight chink upon my heart, the moth hitting glass, trying to get loose, the flame becoming irresistible. And I realized that the glass might not be strong enough to contain it.
The music started again, this time a much livelier tune, and the dance floor became crowded. Legolas and I took our leave, the first dance being out of the way now. He walked me to a table set up for us. We relaxed into our chairs as a servant rushed over with two goblets of wine and a plate of cheese and bread. Legolas took the cups from her, handed one to me, and we held them up in a toast. “To a beautiful evening that I wish would never end,” he said, eyes smoldering with such vibrancy, I thought I might drown in their blue depths.
“I’ll admit, I’m not as anxious to leave as I once was,” I told him honestly.
“Glad to know you are tempted at least. I was beginning to think you were made of stone,” he jested.
“Glass, actually,” I replied, telling my secret thoughts. He just stared at me, the flickering of a nearby lantern playing with is handsome features. “Much easier to break.”
“Perhaps, but usually glass contains more powerful emotions. Break the glass and all of that pours out at once. It can be detrimental,” he explained. “One can safely chip away at stone, but glass must be handled differently.”
Sometimes Legolas said things that made complete sense to me. He could read me so well at times. He understood my fragilities, and he was so gentle with it. He hardly knew my whole story, only the dramatic bits and pieces that I chose to tell him. Yet he could take what little information I gave him, search me with those powerful eyes, and suddenly he saw what was real. He did this now, as we sat at our table, enjoying our wine. No one ever read me so thoroughly. I was naked before him, displaying all the scars and ugliness, the parts of my life that not even Túron had truly seen.
“Such a tortured soul you have,” Legolas said, but not with pity. It was almost a challenge, the way he said it, as though he could end the punishment I placed upon myself. “Not here, though. Here, you are like a child just discovering all the wonderful things life has to offer. I’m glad, Rúmil. I’m happy you can step out of that role.” He smirked and gave a wink.
The rest of the evening was simply intoxicating. We ate and drank, we danced some more, we mingled with other guests, and not once did I feel intimidated or self-conscious. No one gave me a critical eye, and I thought I’d have a few, especially stealing the attentions of their Prince for the evening. I think they saw how happy he was, and they were glad for it. And for the first time in a long time, I was happy too … unconcerned and relaxed, free to be me. It felt so natural, and I forgot about the world outside of the underground palace. Whatever was happening above ground was not important tonight. I began to see why Thranduil chose to live like this. It was easy to lose yourself when you didn’t look past your own door. But I knew the truth. I knew what was happening out there, and I knew I couldn’t ignore it.
“There’s that look again,” Legolas said from across the table. We had just finished dancing and sat for a rest and some refreshment. “The war will be there when you get home, Rúmil. Don’t bring it here, not tonight.”
“I know, I can’t help it sometimes. It hits from time to time, just like when I hear the trees whispering.”
“You have some Teleri in your blood,” he said, interested in my anomaly.
“If I do, I don’t know from whom it came from. Neither of my brothers have the ability, and only a very few in Lothlórien can. I’ve never made a big deal out of it. It just happens from time to time, and when it does, I can’t help but listen,” I explained.
“That makes sense. It explains why we seem so synchronized at times. I have it too. A good number of Wood elves do, although there are some that don’t. Tell me, when was your first experience?” he asked excitedly.
I shook my head as I thought about it. “I … I don’t know. I don’t remember. It just seems that I’ve always done it. It’s very natural to me. I’ve never questioned it or given it much thought.” While I spoke, a servant brought our meal, roast pheasant and vegetables. Legolas smiled up at her and winked, and the servant girl blushed before she left us.
“You are such a flirt,” I commented.
“What?” he said. “I was merely showing my appreciation for her services.”
“You don’t know you do it, do you?” I laughed.
“Perhaps you’ll indulge me then,” he challenged.
“It’s not what you say, but how you say it. And it’s not what you do, but how you do it. Take her, for example.”
“I would, but I’ve got my eye on something much more fulfilling tonight,” he said wantonly.
“Now there, that’s obvious flirting,” I went on, ignoring his comment, though my body was responding with tingling sensations prickling my skin. “But when she brought the tray of food, you winked.”
“And?” he said, drawing the word out long.
“You could have just thanked her, smiled, nodded your head, but you winked. That is a very personalized gesture. Did you not see the rosy bloom of her cheeks when you did that?”
“Should I not have done it?” he asked, as though he was taking a lesson in proper etiquette.
“No, I think your people expect it from you. I just think it’s adorable that you don’t realize how admired you are.” I pinched a bit of meat from my roast quail and popped it in my mouth.
“Right now, I only care what you think,” he responded, reaching for my hand and sucking the juices from my finger. His tongue was doing things that promised a more accurate performance later. “So what do you think, Rúmil?”
I watched his tongue travel across his parted lips, moving slow and deliberate, my mind conjuring up images of that mouth in more useful places. “I think if you keep this up, you’ll undo me right here.”
He gave a deviant laugh that made my toes curl in my borrowed boots. “I apologize. I know not what affect I have you.”
“Arse,” I laughed and stood. “Now, I must relieve myself. If you’ll excuse me.” Actually, I was fine, but I needed a moment away from him. Legolas was just too much, and my body needed a minute to regulate itself. It was difficult to explain how his words could charm me so easily. His potent stares could make my blood pulse without need of my heart. And his touch … ai … it was toxic for sure. He could poison me with his lust and I would die a sated death over and over. That’s what it was like to be with Legolas … always intense.
They had an ingenious design for their privy. It was a private room, simple in look, just stone walls and a trench carved into the floor at the back of the room. Water flowed constantly through the trench. Males could stand and urinate, and the water would carry the waste somewhere, leaving the room free of offending odors and such. It was actually very clean in the privy; most were places that one did not want to spend any more time in then they had to. I’d asked about it earlier, and found out that the water emptied somewhere deep beneath the cave systems. It was somehow filtered as it traveled through rocks and gravel. There was no need for digging holes or emptying buckets as we did in Lothlórien. Latrine duty was a nasty business. But here, nature took care of it.
Hearing the running water, it stimulated me, and I decided to take advantage of the privy after all. Just as I finished, I heard soft footsteps come into the room. It was not uncommon for two or three males to use the room at the same time. It was a fairly generous room. I turned to leave and give a congenial nod to the next guest of the wash room, and found Legolas waiting for me.
“Oh, do you need to–” I started, but before I could finish, he grabbed me, pushing me up against the wall.
“I need you, Rúmil. I can’t wait another moment,” he demanded.
“Here? In the watershed?” I said with slight disgust.
“Would you rather I throw you over our table and have my way with you in front of everyone?” he jested, his hands already fumbling with the leather strands of my leggings.
“Well, it would cause quite a few heads to turn.” I didn’t stop him from his current mission, and before long, he had my ties undone, the flaps of my pants open and my cock in his hand. “Or we can just do it here,” I breathed as he brought me standing in only a couple strokes. “By the gods, how do you do this to me?”
“Because I know you. I know where to touch you to get a quick reaction. I know just how deep to shove my cock and make you come.” His voice was like satin, just as I remembered it when I first heard it, and it had affected me then too.
I didn’t remember moving, but found my hands plunging into his open leggings, pulling him out, kneading him in my hand. He pressed his body against mine and our cocks rubbed together. Nothing felt better than this, and we fit together perfectly.
“Turn around,” he demanded, pushing me against the wall. I felt the cold stone on my cheek, my pants being pushed down, and the hot flesh of his hips against my arse. Legolas’ breath was warm where it washed against the back of my neck. “I’m already so close, Rúmil. You make me mad with lust.”
I wasted no time and braced my hands against the wall. I wriggled one leg free of my leggings, pushed my hips back, spread my legs, and offered myself to him. “You always make it good, Legolas.”
First, he spread me with his fingers, wet with his saliva, preparing me in the process. His other hand came around my hip and kneaded my hardened cock, stroking me over my entire length. Then I felt him rest against my opening, teasing me with his head. His hand stroked faster, and I felt my ballocks tightened.
“Gonna take you deep and fast, just the way you like it,” he whispered drunkenly against my neck, his tongue traveling over my heated skin, up to my ear where he lightly bit the tips.
“Take me now,” I whimpered, not knowing my own pleading desperate voice.
“You want it?” he tortured me.
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes … please … do it … hurry,” I pleaded.
“And so do I,” he said as he entered me all at once. “Feels … so good … Rúmil … so tight … so … hot … so … oh sweet gods, Rúmil.”
“Yes, Legolas … yes … so … oh yeah … oh … yeah . . .”
It was over so fast, but the tremor that traveled throughout my body lasted for an eternity. Legolas went rigid, holding himself deep, warmth purling within me. And I was spent, still wrapped in his fingers, now sticky and wet. He pulled me away from the wall and to his chest, still buried and pulsating with the last remnants. He laid gentle kisses against my ear. “I will miss this when you leave.” He pulled me tighter against him. “I’ll miss everything about you. I just can’t help myself. We are so complete together. I lose myself when I’m with you.”
“I was lost from the moment I looked into your eyes,” I admitted. What was I saying? I couldn’t do this, could I? Chink … Chink … the moth was desperate to escape. The glass had cracked, and it had weakened. The flame was too bright to ignore. “I don’t want to be here anymore. Take me to your room, or come to mine. I just want you to myself.”
“Alright, let’s go. We stayed long enough. You’ll come to my room and I’ll take care of you all night long.” As he spoke, he laced up my leggings and straightened my tunic. “Tonight you are mine, all mine, because the dawn will take you from me.”
“The dawn?” I asked.
He nodded, looking at the floor. “The scouts have returned. No sign of orcs. Father has given permission for you to travel as early as the morning. I was going to tell you, but I wanted us to enjoy the festivities. I wanted you to know the freedom of life here without thinking about your duties to your home. I’m sorry. I should not have kept it from you.”
He sounded so sad, but I was not angry in the least. I cupped my hand to his face, my thumb rubbing his cheek. “I’m glad you didn’t tell me. And yes, it was more enjoyable not knowing. But don’t think that my knowledge of this now will keep me from enjoying the rest of our evening together. Let’s go.”
We navigated the halls, but we made one quick stop before going to his private chamber, and found ourselves in the kitchen, our stomachs rumbling. Legolas climbed the shelves in search of the basket of goodies that the cook, Reveth, always left for him. I watched him from below, the flex of his shoulders, the strain of his thighs. He was beautifully handsome and sexy, a thorough lover, kind of heart, wild and untamable, and for now he was mine and I was his. I silently cursed my eager heart, for I was beginning to feel it … the stirrings of something much more than lust. Chink, went the moth. The glass dome cracked again, and I feared what would happen if it suddenly shattered. Like Legolas said, all of that emotion pouring out at once . . . I’d already loved once and lost. I had built that glass dome for a reason. Love never turned out well for me. It ruined so much in the past. Still . . .
Legolas came down from the shelves, holding the contents of the basket, a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese. I remembered his story about coming here as an elfling, and I could see that eternal youth in his eyes now. He looked so content, and the smile he gave me was genuine and natural. I sighed and he kissed me, and it was as though we’d always known each other, like we had done this exact thing a thousand times before. No one had ever made me feel like this, so easily accepted and comfortable in my own skin, and I wasn’t sure anyone but Legolas ever would.
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Path of Honor-Part II: Far From Home