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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter Eight

The festivities must have ended hours ago, but Legolas and I weren’t there for the conclusion. We left long before the musicians played their last song, before the last of the wine was poured, or the tables were cleared. While the guests finished out their evening with congratulations to the warriors for their brave and courageous contributions to the defeat of the orcs at the river, Legolas and I were within his private chambers, making love, exploring our limits yet again. Thranduil would be disappointed that his son did not stay to the end, but Legolas didn’t care what he thought, and neither did I.
I was a boat adrift in the arms of the sea. Legolas made love to me like the crashing tide, rising and falling, tumbling upon each other, drowning in passion, coming up for air just long enough to fill our lungs, and then repeating the process all over again.
The last time was different, though, and it changed everything between us. He held me beneath him, my legs wrapped around his waist, my body filled and stretched, his face buried in my neck, whispering upon my heated skin how good it felt, how good we were together, how he wished the night would never end. He pushed into me, into that one place that took me to the stars, lights bursting behind my closed eyes, and as he spilled his warmth, he said it. He said what I had managed to avoid hearing up until now. “Rúmil, I love you.” And then he collapsed onto me, exhausted, body going limp, covering me like armor protects its warrior. He didn’t move, and for a split second, I thought he died. We had been rather adventurous throughout the night, and I know my own heart felt like it had stopped beating a time or two. But he was only catching his breath, and he pulled from me, coming to rest at my side. Our bodies were slick with sweat and his hair stuck to his face so that I couldn’t see his expression.
We were silent for a long time, resting, coming to our senses. I felt like my tongue had been cut out. I couldn’t reply to his admission. All I felt was the regret of not being able to say anything. The glass dome around my heart had a few more cracks in it than it did before this day started. The moth inside had reinforced its wings, as though they were made of steel so sharp they could cut the glass.
Finally, Legolas turned towards me, head laying upon my chest, his leg draped across my thighs. “It’s alright. You don’t need to say anything. I’m not like you, Rúmil. I cannot keep things hidden inside. No Wood elf has ever had to do that, and I’ll not be the first.”
“I know,” I said in barely a whisper. “It’s one of the things I like best about you. But you must know what it does to me to hear you say it.”
“I already know what it does to you. I felt you tense and cringe as I said it. I feel you protecting yourself from me. What happened, Rúmil? What has happened to you that you’ll shut out your heart to protect your soul and avoid me?”
I huffed a laugh as I thought of the all too simple explanation. “I became a soldier.”
“That’s not it, and you know it. You think you’re the first soldier of Lothlórien or Imladris to have feelings for other ellyn, to live a secret life separate from your military one? Your brother does it, and he’s a March warden. And look at you, Rúmil, Captain in the Northern Guard of Lothlórien, largest of the guard, leader of the deadliest and most successful archery regiment known to any elven realm. You can’t tell me you don’t know how to balance the two lives you live. No … something happened, something more than what you have shared with me. Will you tell me?”
This was it. This was that moment when the whole truth came out, when he would tell me it didn’t matter, and that he loved me anyways. And I knew the truth in my heart, that I would confess the same to him, because I couldn’t deny it any longer. I loved him too. But I couldn’t say the words for fear of my eternal curse. I could never have a normal life.
“I … I can’t love you, for fear of losing you,” I admitted.
He gave a nervous laugh, his breath washing across my chest. “You won’t lose me, Rúmil. I’ll always be here.”
“It’s not that, Legolas. You see, every time I’ve admitted my feelings for someone, they have disappeared from my life. And so, I cannot allow myself to love you.”
“Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?” I could hear the smile in his voice. But when he sat up and looked into my eyes, he saw that I was serious. “You don’t actually believe that, do you?”
“It’s already happened twice. Why should things be any different with you?” I justified. “Can’t we just keep things as they are now? This is nice. This is good. I can visit Mirkwood and see you, and we’ll spend our time like this.” I gestured to the bed.
“Rúmil, as much as I like sharing a bed with you, I want something more. I know this is not ideal, the fact that you live in Lórien and I live here, but I thought we could make it work. You’ll not be in danger of discovery, and when you’re here, you are free to be yourself. And then, perhaps someday, we might be able to be together more often, or all the time. Who knows what the future will bring.”
I turned my eyes from his and looked towards the door. “I’ve tried to make things work before. It never turns out very well. The fact is, I chose this life. I chose to become a soldier, and I knew damn well what all that entailed. I thought I could have it all, when I met Túron, and now I will never see him again. Then I came here, met you and … and I find myself thinking I can make it work again. But I know it will all turn to shit. It always does. If we keep things as they are right now, then maybe I won’t lose you. If I give in to my heart, I fear I’ll never be allowed to return to Mirkwood for whatever kind of reason that happens to interfere. I want to come back. I am so comfortable here. I’m comfortable with you, the way it is now.”
Legolas raised himself up, and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. His back was to me, and his head hung low. I looked at his back, the muscles in his shoulders tensing, his long hair flowing down his spine. I reached out to touch him, but he stood before my fingers found him. He grabbed his robe rather roughly from the foot of the bed, and slipped into it. I could tell that he was angry, and I felt horrible. I’d done this to him. He had just confessed his love for me, and at such an intense and intimate time, and I couldn’t return the feelings.
“Legolas, please … I’m–”
“No,” he interrupted, his voice low and angered. He glanced over his shoulder to the bed, but he did not look directly at me. His shoulders slumped and he sighed deeply. “No,” he said again, but this time his voice came out soft and airy. “Don’t say anything more about it. I should have known better. It was my fault. I let myself get in too deep.” He finally turned to me, and he was partially smiling, but it went no further than the corners of his mouth. His eyes were empty, emotionless. He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. “My father warned me, but I didn’t listen. I thought this was … I thought you and I were . . .”
“Please, don’t do this. You said I didn’t have to answer. You said you understood,” I begged. I was sitting on the bed with my knees tucked under me, the silk sheet pulled around my torso.
“I know and I thought I did, but–” His words trailed off and he tied the belt of his robe.
“Don’t be like all the rest,” I pleaded, and he paused to hear my words. “I’ve been down this road so many times, and each time ends like this. But we have a chance at something good here, Legolas, iaun nín. I’ve never had a place to go where I could have a normal life, even a temporary place like Mirkwood. And I’ve never met anyone like you, or felt such a connection. I don’t want this to end, not permanently.”
I could feel the pain that showed in his eyes. I could give him anything, but I couldn’t say that one word, and I know he wanted to hear it badly. Legolas stood in the center of the room, pulling the robe tighter around him. His hand came up to the back of his neck, and he looked at his clothes scattered across the floor. His eyes settled on me, confused and dazed.
“Say something, anything,” I begged again.
His lips parted as he took a breath. I thought he had changed his mind, that he was willing to make this work, to give me more time. I could almost hear the words come out of his mouth and I started to get off the bed and go to him. When I moved, he pulled back, lips closing into a tight line. He looked back to his clothes and picked up his leggings and undershirt. “It’s going to be daylight soon, and you’ll need to get going early.” He turned back to me, all sadness gone from his eyes, admiration contained, not showing on his face anymore. “You’ll need to see my father one more time before departing. I’ll go with you, but I need a bath first. I’m just going down to the bathing room.”
“Well, I’ll go with you,” I offered.
“No,” he said quickly, smiling after his rushed answer. “Don’t get up yet. There is still time. I’ve just got some business to tend to early. I’ll send for you when it’s time, alright?” He came over to the bed to get his boots.
“But–” I started. Legolas bent down and silenced me with a kiss. His lips were still warm and firm, but something was missing. The passion was gone. He released me and captured me, our eyes locking.
“I’ve always been too eager.” He huffed a laugh, his thumb brushing my cheek. “You heard my father.” He kissed me again, quickly this time. “Let’s not spoil our wonderful evening.”
“What about us?” I asked.
“We’ll see each other on the battle field, right?”
“And afterwards, when everything has settled, I’ll come back to visit you,” I promised.
He smiled and licked his lips, eyes darting to my mouth. “I’d like that.”
“Really?” I whispered.
“Really,” Legolas nodded. I couldn’t help think that the air was not completely clear between us. Perhaps he just needed some time.
* * * * *
I crossed the stone bridge to approach King Thranduil, who was sitting upon his throne. Legolas walked beside me. I hadn’t seen him since he left his bedroom this morning. He sent a servant to retrieve me. I thought I might not see him again before I left, but he was waiting at the entrance to the main hall. He smiled when he saw me, and some of the magic was back, but now it was muted with caution. Things weren’t the same between us anymore, and it was my fault.
“Good morning, Father,” Legolas said as we finished crossing the bridge. We stopped before the dais.
Thranduil crossed his legs, rested his hands upon the arms of his throne and tilted his head up in greeting. “And how are you this morning?”
“I am well,” Legolas answered tersely.
Thranduil’s eyes flicked to me then to Legolas, and back to me. “I assume you are ready to leave us today?” he asked.
“Yes, it is time that I made my way home. We have a war to prepare for.”
Thranduil hesitated. I think he was waiting for Legolas to say something, but when he didn’t, the King continued.
“My sentries are waiting for you at the main gates. They will escort you out of the Rhovanion. I’ve sent word to Lothlórien. They’ll be expecting you.” He reached his hand down alongside his chair, and pulled out a roll of parchment, sealed with his signet impressed into the wax, a beech tree. Thranduil held it out to me and I approached the throne, taking it from him. I held the rolled parchment in my fingers, as though it was made of hot coals. “We will await word from Lothlórien, and meet in battle,” he said.
I tucked the paper inside my tunic. Then I bowed to the King. “May the Valar protect your people and mine. Dol Guldur will fall, and our realms will know peace one day.”
Thranduil nodded slowly, eyes closing as he did. I could tell he was not keen with the situation, but he knew it was the right thing to do.
My eyes darted to my side where Legolas stood. I turned to him, our eyes meeting once again. I smiled. “Well, I guess we’ll meet again in battle.”
Legolas smiled and bowed, but his father interrupted our farewell. “I’m afraid Legolas will not be going to Dol Guldur,” he announced.
Legolas stood straight, eyeing his father. “You said I could fight again. You said I would lead my regiment to–”
“I know what I said, but something more important has happened,” Thranduil interrupted. He glanced towards me, as though he was considering whether or not he should have this conversation in my presence. It seemed rather urgent though, and he continued. “We have received word from Lord Elrond of Imladris.”
Legolas and I looked at each other before giving the King our undivided attention. I had no idea what this could be about. Imladris was not part of the war. They were a very small community, well hidden in a valley of waterfalls and rivers, far from Dol Guldur and the Rhovanion. Rivendell was the last safe haven for the elves. Certainly they had not been breached. But Lothlórien had, according to Thranduil, and that should never have happened.
The King continued. “A representative from every realm and every race are being called to attend a special gathering, a secret meeting in Rivendell. Gondor has answered, even the dwarves are sending someone. Lothlórien need not attend, since Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond are in constant communication. Mirkwood has been summoned to represent the elves as well as others here in the north.” Thranduil paused and watched Legolas carefully. “Mithrandir will be there. He is expecting us to send the prisoner.”
I could feel Legolas cringe beside me. He kept himself together though, and confronted his father. “I am needed in the war.”
“This is your mess, Legolas. You must go and deliver the news,” Thranduil insisted.
“Then send a messenger. I am a warrior, and my troops expect me to help lead them into battle,” Legolas argued.
“You were responsible for allowing the prisoner out of his cell, and in turn you are responsible for his kidnapping.” Thranduil’s voice boomed through the cavernous room. “You will go and represent Mirkwood, and that is final. Gather your things. You’re leaving with Rúmil and the sentries.”
I dared a look at Legolas, daggers shooting from his lovely eyes. Suddenly, our argument from earlier seemed insignificant compared to this new revelation. I should have known that Thranduil would find a way to keep Legolas from doing what he did best. I watched the stand-off between father and son, neither one moving, staring each other down. Who would move first?
Legolas took a deep breath, accepting his father’s commands. His head came up pugnaciously, jaw set, lips in a tight line, but his eyes were like the blue flames that drew me to him in the first place, and the moth in my chest fluttered desperately … chink … chink. The glass around my heart wouldn’t hold much longer.
“I will go, Father. I will represent our realm, and I will make amends with the wizard. I will tell Lord Elrond exactly what happened here, and I will take responsibility for my decisions,” he said without emotion.
“Very good,” Thranduil said satisfied.
I expected more of an argument from Legolas. I thought he gave in too easily. Why wouldn’t he stand up for himself? He was needed much more in this war than in Rivendell. Thranduil had him doing the job of a messenger. There were plenty who could do that. Someone else could represent Mirkwood at this so called meeting.
Legolas turned to leave his father’s throne, and he paused at my shoulder. “Come on. We’re leaving soon,” he said in a low growl. I followed him across the stone bridge and down one of the corridors. As we walked, neither one of us said a word. I almost had to run to keep up with him. I didn’t know where we were going until we got there, and we found ourselves in the garden. We didn’t stop at the door. We kept going, passing berry bushes, herb gardens, multiple vegetable plants and stalks of corn.
“Legolas, where are we going?” I called to him, but he didn’t slow and he didn’t answer.
The elves working in the gardens paused and looked up to see what was happening. Their eyes followed their Prince before they went back to what they were doing. I noticed how calm and celestial the gardeners seemed. They moved slowly and meticulously. I didn’t think they were used to seeing Legolas here very often, but it didn’t faze them at all, and they kept on with their work.
Eventually, we came to the grapevines. Rows and rows of green plants filled with big, round, red, juice filled grapes, ripe for the picking. They would be made into Mirkwood’s finest wine, used for trading with the Northmen. I hurried my tread, catching up to Legolas, and I grasped his shoulder. “Legolas, stop.” And he did. He just stood there, chest heaving from our fast pace, and he looked at the vines in front of him. “Why are we here?” I asked.
“This year’s crops,” Legolas said, his hand cupping one of the grape bunches. He picked one and popped it in his mouth. “The best one so far.”
“Shouldn’t we be preparing to leave?” I asked gently. “The sentries will be waiting for us.”
He continued staring at the grapevines, hands at his sides, completely oblivious to everything around him. I waited by his side, hoping for a response. Had he changed his mind about going to Rivendell?
“My mother used to bring me here when I was just an elfling. She would help pick the ripe grapes with the gardeners. It was something she used to do with her mother when she was young. Father used to complain that she was a queen, and the queen did not do common work, but she ignored him and said it would be good for me to learn the importance of labor. She was determined to make sure I was well rounded, not just the son of a king who could have anything he wanted with the snap of his fingers.” He picked another grape and handed it to me. I held it in my palm and examined it. “Go on,” he urged. “Taste it. You’ll not find any better than these. Mirkwood takes pride in its vineyards.”
I put the grape in my mouth and chewed slowly. It was very good, full of sweet juice that burst over my taste buds. Legolas watched me as I ate the globular fruit with a kind of longing. I thought he might kiss me, but he restrained himself from the gesture and turned back to look at the vines. “This was the last place I saw my mother before she died,” he admitted. I stopped chewing and swallowed what was in my mouth. Legolas was about to confess a very personal and private moment, and he would have my full attention. “It was right here. She was standing there, picking grapes. I was helping her. It was just another normal day. She was not in her usual joyful mood that day. I think that she and my father had some kind of argument, but I’ll never really know. Anyways, she was very quiet, and that was out of the ordinary for her. I tried carrying the conversation, but I couldn’t engage her. Finally, I gave up and settled on helping her pick grapes. After a long silence, she stopped what she was doing and sat on the ground. She pulled me to her. I can still feel her hands upon my arms, and see her pleading eyes looking up at me. ‘Legolas,’ she said, ‘One day you will have to be on your own.’ I didn’t know what she meant by that and I asked her. ‘You’ll set out on a journey that might take you far from home,’ she explained. I told her I could never leave Mirkwood, that it was my place to remain here as heir to the throne. She laughed lightly, but there was sadness in her voice. ‘That’s what your father would lead you to believe.’ She never finished that thought, and I was confused for a very long time about it. ‘Be your own person. Live your own life,’ she said. ‘There is a whole world out there, and there will be those who will look towards you for leadership.’” He paused from his story, and I moved closer to him, needing to feel his radiance.
“You will be a fine leader. You already are, Legolas. I saw that for myself when we fought the orcs at the river,” I encouraged.
“And it felt good,” he smiled, remembering how smoothly it went, how easily the elves gained their victory. “But I’ve realized something lately. I’m never going to find my own way as long as I’m in Mirkwood. My father will remain king until the last ship sails from Middle-earth, and he’ll always feel the need to protect me, to hold me back and keep me from achieving my true potential. Why do you think he’s sending me to Rivendell? It keeps me from going to Dol Guldur with the rest of my regiment.”
“I have to admit, I think your father is making a mistake. We could really use your talents in this war. Yes, your troops will join in the fight, but you are their heart. You are the reason they fight so well. They do it to please you.”
He nodded, but stayed silent. Then he peered at me over his shoulder. “Do you think she was right, my mother?”
I reached for his hand, tangling my fingers in his and squeezed. “She wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be your best.”
Legolas smiled, head hanging, bobbing in agreement. “I wish you could have met her.”
“So do I, but I have a feeling she is never far from her son.”
Legolas straightened his back and looked down the long row of vines, as though this would be his last time. This place was significant to him, and I was glad he brought me here. It gave me hope that we would see each other again, though now I knew not where. We were to meet in battle, but now, with Legolas going to Rivendell, I didn’t think that would happen. It might be a very long time before I saw him again.
We left the garden and made our way back to the main hall. I went to my room to gather my things, and Legolas took care of a few errands and such. We agreed to meet at the gates where we would depart. It would be a long and treacherous journey out of the Rhovanion, but at least we would have this time together. We wouldn’t part ways until we got to the village of Arstad, just outside the old forest. There I would, hopefully, retrieve my horse that I left with a man named Balkí, so long as he didn’t trade her. Then I would head south, following the Anduin River all the way to Lothlórien. Legolas would continue west, crossing the Misty Mountains until he reached Imladris. We would be many miles apart, I thought, and it made my heart ache to think of it. How quickly I had gotten used to having him around, to waking up beside him. I thought I had done a better job at distancing myself from him. I knew the day would come when I would return home. I thought it might be a little difficult at first, but that I would go back to my old ways, old habits. I thought that the memory of Legolas and what all we had shared would be enough until I saw him again. I was finding that it wouldn’t do, and that I was going to miss him so much that it would hurt. That was the last thing I needed. I had already experienced that when Túron left. I wasn’t supposed to repeat the process with Legolas. Too many cracks in my glass dome.
* * * * *
We made it out of the Rhovanion without any major incidents. Legolas and I, and the two sentries managed to stay among the canopy, traveling during the daylight hours when the spiders slept. We didn’t see many orcs, and I wondered if that was a good thing or bad. No orcs meant no raids on Mirkwood. No orcs also meant that they were gathering elsewhere, and my best guess was Dol Guldur. Had they figured out that the elves were preparing to march there? If so, this war would be harder than I first thought. Only time would tell at this point. Once I got home, I would have a better idea of what was happening.
Traveling through the Rhovanion left little time for Legolas and I to talk and clear the air. Ever since our argument, there was a constant tenseness between us. I could feel Legolas’ anxiety over our final conversation, when he admitted his love for me, and I remained silent. I wish I could go back and change that moment in time, but the damage was done.
Arstad came into sight and we made our way there. Legolas and his men traded a few jewels, provided by King Thranduil, for horses. He told me he had enough to buy me one, too, just in case my grey mare wasn’t there anymore. To my surprise, the horse trader, Balkí, still had my horse. She looked well taken care of, thank the Valar. I wouldn’t have to break in a new horse.
Legolas went with me to the stables to examine the horses he was considering buying. I could hear the excitement in my grey’s whinnying as I approached her stall. “What’s her name?” he asked as we stood at the door.
“Suldal,” I said, reaching out to let her smell my hand. She bobbed her head up and down, greeting me as if to say, where have you been?
Legolas ran his hand down along the side of her neck, and she seemed to lean into his touch. I knew how she felt. I’d done the same thing as he held me or cupped my face. It was so easy to trust him, to give in to him, and let his satiny words calm the tortured soul.
“I will miss you,” I said aloud. I’d meant to say it to myself, but watching him, his gentle hands and sweet smile that made his eyes crinkle, I couldn’t keep it inside. These would be our last moments alone. I’m sure he would want to be on his way to Rivendell, and the sentries had looked antsy.
Legolas shifted, his feet crunching the sweet smelling hay on the ground. “You’ll become wrapped up in the war, and you won’t have time for a spare thought of me.” His smile never faded as he spoke, as though he was challenging me to say different.
“Well, yes, when I’m commanding or fighting, you’ll be the furthest thing from my mind, but that’s how it is, isn’t it? It’s in the quiet hours that I’ll think about you, and wish you were with me.”
He took a step towards me, but stopped, looking at the stable door, and someone interrupted our moment.
“There ye are. ‘Twas wonderin’ what happen’d to ye. Me horse came back without ye, and I thought somethin’ bad came of ye.” It was Balkí, the horse trader.
I rolled my eyes as I slowly turned to face him. “You told me that horse was good for traveling long distances and tight places, and at the first sound of trees creaking, I was thrown and your beast fled,” I said angrily.
“Maybe he just didn’t like ye,” Balkí challenged. He was a tall man, broad through the shoulders, lots of facial hair to hide his expressions, but not his eyes. They darted back and forth, a sign that he was lying. My own eyes turned to slits, something I had seen the Wood elves do when they felt a need to intimidate. It seemed to be working. Balkí fidgeted, rubbing his hands together, turning his head back and forth as though he was looking for a way out. Finally he confessed. “Well, what was I suppos’d to do? You’s were goin’ in that forest. I wasn’t about to let ye take one of my good horses just to feed the creatures that lurk in there. So I gave ye one I thought was dumb enough to take ye. Guess he was smarter than I thought.” I put my hand on the hilt of the sword at my side, and Balkí finished that thought differently. “’Course it was unfortunate fer you.”
“At least you didn’t sell my grey,” I mumbled, and Balkí’s guilt ridden face turned red. I took another step closer to the man, my eyes dangerously slit this time. “You were going to sell her? I gave you good money to take care of her.”
“Ye said you’d be back in a week, and when ye didn’t show … well, it would cost me more to keep her than what you paid me,” he confessed yet again. “But then I got that letter with the elf king’s signet telling me to keep yer horse, along with a hefty sum to pay for the extra expenses. So I’d be takin’ real good care of her fer ye. See? All plump and pretty like she was the day ye brought her here.”
A letter with Thranduil’s signet? I glanced over my shoulder, and Legolas gave a quirk of a smile and a wink. I should have known he would have thought of everything. He really did have it all planned out when I came to Mirkwood. I was never meant to leave quickly as I originally thought. I was glad for it too, but I wouldn’t reveal that just yet.
“You’ve some friends in high places,” Balkí said, seeing that my anger had subsided.
I kept my eyes upon Legolas. “Yes … yes I do.” My expression softened.
“How full is the inn?” Legolas asked the horse trader, hunger growing in his blue orbs.
“It’s fairly slow around here lately. I’d say there’s plenty of room.”
“Will you be so kind as to procure us two rooms? And make sure one of them is your finest available,” Legolas commanded.
Balkí wrung his hands together. “It’s not really my job to find housing for the guests . . .”
Legolas flipped him a gold coin, his predatory stare never leaving me. “I believe you can adjust your occupation just this once. You wouldn’t want to inconvenience the Prince of Mirkwood, would you?” He blinked slowly, and when his eyes opened, they were turned to Balkí.
Instantly, the man knew who he was dealing with. “Aye, yer the elf king’s son,” he said with amazement. “You’ll beg my pardon, my lord. Didn’t know that I was speakin’ with royalty. Of course, I’ll set ye up right with the inn keeper.”
“Thank you, Balkí. You’re influence with the towns people is very helpful.” Legolas sweetened the man with his smooth language, and Balkí left the stables, heading off towards the inn.
I raised a brow at Legolas, and he looked surprised. “I thought your mother taught you not to use your title as a way to get what you wanted,” I berated.
Legolas shrugged his shoulders. “It is a useful tool at times. Besides, you’re not in that much of a hurry to get home, are you? One more night in a comfortable bed?”
It was all well and fun, but I couldn’t overlook the fact that he had acquired two rooms. I guess my disappointment showed for he came to me, his nose nuzzling behind my ear. “You’re not leaving already, are you?”
“Well, no, not since you spent good money on a room for me,” I said softly.
“For us,” he corrected, his teeth lightly grazing the back of my ear.
“Oh.” I was surprised by this. I thought he was eager for us to part, especially since . . .
“Well, my guards won’t want to sleep out here with the horses,” he conceded. “They can share the other room.” He twisted a strand of my hair around his finger.
“I thought they were only escorting us to the forest’s edge,” I wondered.
“They were escorting you that far, but my father’s plans changed. Now he wants them to accompany me to Rivendell and back.”
I huffed a quiet laugh. “Is he afraid you’ll be ambushed?”
Legolas returned the laugh, his lips now trailing along my neck. “Perhaps he’s afraid I won’t return … willingly.”
I pulled away from him to look into his eyes. I thought there was more truth to that statement than he led on. Just as I was about to question him, he stepped away and backed towards the door, smiling radiantly as he did when he was through with a conversation. “Our room won’t be ready for a while, I’m sure. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starved.”
And just like that, I was in his hands, as malleable as clay, ready for him to mold me and shape me into anything he wanted me to be.
* * * * *
I discovered that the two sentries sent along with us were Legolas’ personal guards back at the palace. They weren’t much for conversation, always on high alert to their surroundings. They looked similar to Legolas, long wheat colored hair tied in warrior braids, tall, handsome, but slightly more muscular. Legolas seemed to ignore their presence most of the time. I guess he was used to them being around, but I wasn’t. They made me nervous, the way they were always there, watching, waiting for something to happen. What did they expect would happen in a small village like Arstad?
“Half the time, I don’t even know they’re there,” Legolas commented when I asked about them.
“Have you ever needed their protection?” I wondered.
He cocked his head and looked up at the ceiling of the tavern we were in. It was run down and old. The floors creaked as though they might cave in, and the walls were brown from years of people smoking pipe weed, the residue from the smoke embedding itself into the wood. “I suppose there was a time or two when they made me aware of imminent danger,” Legolas answered after thinking about it.
“At least they don’t follow you into battle,” I laughed, noticing that he did not. “They don’t do they?”
“I haven’t … been in battle since my father assigned them to me,” he sighed with embarrassment. Then his brows drew together as he gazed into the mug of ale set before him. It was warm and bitter, the worst ale I’d ever tasted, but it was wet and it helped to ease the tension between Legolas and me. “My mother was right about one thing. I’ll not find my own way as long as I’m under my father’s rule. He’ll not let me find my path in this world. There will always be someone to watch over me,” he said, nodding towards the two sentries stationed on either side of the tavern. Their eyes constantly scanned the room, focusing on anyone who approached Legolas, even if they were only passing by. “I can’t take much more of it.”
“Well, in defense of your father, he only does it because he loves you. You said he saw you die … twice … before the healers stabilized you heart. I can only imagine what that must have been like. If I had been the one to witness it, I would be devastated.” He smiled at my confession, and I felt his foot nudge against mine where they rested beneath the table. I continued. “But I wouldn’t keep you from a fight. I might fight alongside you from that moment on, but I wouldn’t hold you back.”
“It was good, wasn’t it, when we stood back to back, slaying orcs,” he reminisced.
“I felt invincible next to you. I was really looking forward to fighting beside you again. I think our regiments will be very compatible.”
“You’ll lead them,” he said. “I’ve already told them that when they join Lothlórien, they will be under your command.”
“I … I don’t k-know what to say,” I stammered. I had thought that someone else would command in Legolas’ place. “You trust me that much?” Our server came with two bowls of stew and a loaf of bread. We paused our conversation until the young boy was through. Then Legolas answered me.
“Of course I do. I saw your courage at the river. I’ve seen how you have conformed to our way of life in Mirkwood. You understand the Wood elves. Not to say anything bad against your brother or anyone else in Lothlórien, but no one knows us better, and I don’t think anyone else would listen to my troops. They are not there just to fight. They will have their own ideas and strategies too. You’ve seen what they are capable of. No one else has.”
“Legolas, I am … honored. Really, I am. I swear to watch over them, to lead them to victory, and I’ll do everything in my power to see that every one of them returns home.

“I know you will, Rúmil,” he smiled contentedly.
We were silent for a while as we ate our stew, but as I sopped up some of the gravy with my bread, a thought crossed my mind. “Does Corweth know that you’ve put them under my command?”
He laughed. “She does, and she threatened to cut off my balls before she would ever take a command from you. But not to worry. We had a long conversation about it. She’ll not give you any trouble. Besides, Messel will be there. She’ll help keep her sister on track.”
“I don’t know what I ever did to her to make her not like me,” I wondered aloud.
Legolas ripped another piece of bread from the loaf and handed it to me. As he did, our fingers brushed together in a deliberate way. I raised my eyes to his and they locked. “I think she is jealous.”
“Jealous? Of what? Of me?” His eyes sparkled deviously in the light of the lantern that sat on our table. “You said you’ve been with ellith. Was Corweth one of your female lovers?”
He sat back in his chair, his hand lifting to touch the side of his neck. Just as Thranduil played with the rings on his fingers when he was caught, Legolas’ habit was to touch his neck. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You did, didn’t you? You slept with Corweth,” I accused, and Legolas’ fingers drummed a nervous rhythm.
“Maybe,” he finally answered.
“Maybe?” I encouraged.
“Alright, yes … yes we did, but we were young, and neither one of us had been with someone before,” he confessed, his words rushing together.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You were both virgins? You lost your virginity to an elleth? I would never have thought–”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he interrupted, and I humbled at the thought.
“You’re right. We have barely scratched the surface with each other,” I admitted.
“And yet, it seems like we’ve known each other for a very long time,” he continued.
“I was just about to say that.”

He smiled longingly. “I know.”
We finished our meal, and Legolas was gazing at me from across the table. I wondered if other people in the tavern had noticed, but I didn’t care. To be held within his stare was a glorious feeling, like the whole world paused around us, and it was just him and I.
“Shall we go to our room?” he asked, eyes smoldering with promise for what the night would bring.
I nodded and we stood from our table. Legolas gave the inn keeper some coins for our meal and the ale. Then he gave him a few more and told the man to give the sentries anything they wanted. The elf guards saw us heading for the stairs that led to the rooms above, and they started to follow us. Legolas held up his hand. “You don’t need to watch over me every second. Enjoy yourselves for a while. I’ve already paid the owner. Eat, drink, whatever you like, and when you’re through, there is a room for you both, but I’d like some private time now. We’ll be on our way at first light.”
The sentries nodded and bowed to their Prince. Legolas patted them each on the back, and they relaxed for the first time since we left Mirkwood. They had a seat on the stools at the bar, and the inn keeper brought them each a pint of ale. Legolas smiled deviously. “We won’t have to worry about them now. We have the whole night to ourselves, and the inn’s best room.”
We made our way to the room, and found that it wasn’t half bad. There was one bed, smaller than what we were used to in Mirkwood, but that would mean we’d just have to curl up to each other a little tighter. The sheets and blankets were fresh laundered, and there was a pitcher and bowl of fresh water to wash up with. Legolas had been rather generous with his coin, and the inn keeper showed his gratitude by having a bottle of wine sent to the room, already open and breathing, a set of pewter goblets neatly placed on the shelf where the bottle sat.
Legolas picked up the bottle and poured out the deep burgundy wine into each cup. “Let’s hope this is better than the ale,” he commented.
“I think horse piss would be better than the ale,” I jested. Legolas came to me and handed me a cup. We sipped together, our eyes latched onto each other.
“Not bad,” I said.
“Better than I thought it would be, but it’s no Dorwinion vintage.”
“Nothing can compare to Mirkwood’s best. I’ve had it before, you know. In Lothlórien. Every once in a while, there would be a cask or two,” I told him.
“A gift for your brother to let him know that all was well, and that our plans had not altered,” Legolas confessed.
“This was a long time in the making, wasn’t it?” I asked.
“And now it has come full circle.”
“But not for you,” I said sadly. “You’ll not be there when we attack Dol Guldur.”
We talked a bit more, but we were finding it difficult to keep the conversation going. There were only so many hours in the night, and I wanted to make each one count. The wine had done its job of loosening the tension between us. We never mentioned our mishap again, as though we were starting afresh. Knowing that we only had these few hours left meant there was no time for arguments.
Legolas strolled around the room, moving out of my sight as he came up behind me where I was sitting in a chair. His hands went to my shoulders, massaging my muscles most deliciously. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. I looked up at him, and he kissed my mouth. It was an odd sensation to kiss someone upside down, but unique. His fingers traveled along my jawline, tilting my head back more, and his lips left my mouth, only to find their way to my neck. His hands moved along the buttons of my tunic, undoing them one by one until my bare chest was exposed. He splayed his palms flat against my chest, moving to my stomach and lower until the tips of his fingers played with the waistband of my leggings. My body strained against the confining material, and my hips gyrated slightly.
“Do you want me?” he whispered.
“I always want you,” I answered.
“And will you want me when I’m gone?”
“I think that I’ll want you more.” As I spoke, Legolas came around the chair, standing in front of me. He leaned forward, his hands resting on the arms of the chair, his face just inches from mine.
“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” he said, and he kissed my neck and shoulder. He got onto his knees, and kissed a trail down my chest and stomach. His hands untied my leggings, folding back the flaps and finally releasing me to the cool air. He wasted no time and took me into his mouth, engulfing me in his warmth, licking and savoring every inch. His tongue dipped and flicked, rounded the rim and then lay flat and heavy on the underside as his lips slid along my length. My hips bucked, coming off the chair, as I tried to get as much of me into his mouth as I could. He hummed and the vibration sent a shiver through my spine. I wrapped my fingers in his long silky hair, and looked down to watch him work me. His head bobbed up and down. I loved watching him do this to me.
He stopped before things went too far, stood and took my hand, pulling me from the chair. “Come to bed,” he demanded in a whisper. I shucked my tunic from my shoulders, and stepped out of my leggings and boots. By the time I met him at the foot of the bed, we were both naked. We laid down in unison, facing each other, hands roaming over flesh, memorizing taste, touch, and smell. And I wondered how it had come to this. How, after all I had been through a year ago, had I let someone find their way into my heart again? The glass was too far damaged. The moth was almost free as it struggled to get to its flame … to Legolas.
He rolled me onto my stomach after using the oil he had brought with him. Then his body covered mine, and he pushed into me, slow and gentle, stretching me, filling me with more than his body. Legolas whispered behind my ear, telling me things that no one had ever said to me before. We weren’t just compatible, we were soul mates, he and I. I didn’t have to see him to know he was there. I knew his thoughts before he said them aloud. I felt his love for me in everything he did, and everything he said, but I just couldn’t take that final step when I knew there was no denying my feelings.
Legolas moved in and out, his body sliding over mine, moving easier as a sheen of sweat broke out over our skin. I felt myself building with every thrust, and I know he was too. I raised my arse and he came up on one knee, adjusting our position for the best penetration. And then he was pushing deep, hitting that one place that made my whole body sing. He pressed into me again, and his chest covered my back so that he could whisper into my ear.
“Say my name,” he demanded.
“Legolas,” I cried, his cock going deep and stilling. I could feel it pulsating, on the verge of release.
“Say it again,” he said pulling out and then thrusting right back to the same place.
“Legolas,” I called once more.
“I love you, Rúmil. Tell me you love me too.” His voice changed to a plea.
“I can’t,” I whimpered. He pulled back so that he was almost completely removed from my body, but just enough of him was there, teasing my sensitive passage.
“Yes, you can.”
“I’m afraid,” I confessed.
“I’m not going anywhere. This is different, and you know it. Tell me, Rúmil. I need to hear you say it.”
“It will ruin us, and I don’t want you gone like all the others.”
“I’m not like the others. I’m not like any of them. I’ll come back, and when all this is over, we’ll be together,” he explained. “I need to know, Rúmil. Please. Say it.” He was begging me, his voice so soft I almost couldn’t hear him.
And the dome shattered. And the moth fluttered around my vulnerable heart, its wings restarting parts of me that I had shut down a year ago. And the beats grew louder and louder, my chest pounding unrestrained. And the words bubbled to the surface, sticking in my throat. And my mind screamed, ‘just say it!’
“Rúmil,” Legolas whimpered behind my ear.
I turned onto my back so that I could look up into his face. His eyes had misted as he gazed down upon me, reaching deep into my soul. I knew I had no other choice. I must free the last part of my spirit. All the rest, Legolas had helped me to release, but this … this last thing could only be accomplished by me, and there would be no turning back. I reached up, my palm cupping his face, and Legolas leaned into my touch. I nodded, the last stubborn part of me hoping that would be enough. Then I smiled and it reflected back onto his face as it lit up.
“By the gods, with Eru as my witness, I love you,” I said. “I love you Legolas Thranduilion. I love you … I … love … you.” And I couldn’t stop saying it. And he smiled, his pearl white teeth flashing in the dimly lit room. And he laughed, as a tear threatened to fall. I tangled my fingers in the hair at the back of his neck, and pulled him down onto me. He buried his face in my shoulder, and I kept telling him that I loved him.
He scrambled to get between my legs, lifting them to his waist, entering me once more, and made love to me with such joy and relief. “Don’t stop saying it,” he said, and with every thrust, I admitted my love for him until I couldn’t breathe. We came together, our bodies trembling, our cries of ecstasy filling the silence. I never experienced anything like it, and I never would again.
We didn’t sleep that night. We would make love, and then lay quietly in each other’s arms, stroking, touching, just needing to feel one another, whispering our love, making plans for when the war was over. We knew we’d survive. We were confident. Our talent reassured us of that.
Eventually, the sun broke over the horizon. Beams of orange light leaked in between the cracks in the curtains. I hated this. I didn’t want it to end, and I told him as much. “Let’s never leave this room. Maybe your guards will give up and return home if we never come out.”
“And we’ll just live here, in Arstad, at the edge of the forest,” he continued with a laugh. “And drink bitter ale.”
“And forget about the world around us,” I smiled against his neck, covering him with kisses.
Something changed. I felt him stiffen, and I looked at his face. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“I’ve lived that way for most of my life,” he said, and I realized how my last comment rang true for him. Legolas moved quicker than a flint strike, laying on top of me, staring at me with wild Wood elf eyes. “I’ll not live like that anymore.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–”
“No,” he rushed to say, smiling. “I’m glad you said it. You’ve helped me make my final decision.”
“A decision about what?”
“I’m not going back to Mirkwood.” He sat up and I moved with him, staring at him.
“What?” I asked, astonished. “But you must go to Rivendell and–”
“And I will. I’ve already committed myself to that task. It is my responsibility to inform them about the prisoner. But when the council is through, I’m not going home.”
“Where will you go? What will you do? What about us?” I asked with desperation.
“I’m going to march with my army, with you and Lothlórien. I’m going to fight at Dol Guldur. As soon as I’m through with Rivendell, I’ll ride south. I swore I would come back to you, even if that means meeting you in battle. We’ll fight alongside each other as we did at the river. It will be glorious and we’ll know victory again.” He spoke with deep passion. He was a Wood elf, and that’s just how they were.
“Your father will be furious,” I reminded him, but he already knew that.
“He’ll forgive my decision when I come home victorious. And you’ll come back to Mirkwood to join in the celebration. We’ll be together again, alone, free to be what we are.” He had it all planned out, and it seemed like a solid agendum, but there was still the fact that my home was within Lothlórien. I made him aware of this, and he kissed my forehead. “We’ll make due, but one day there won’t be a reason to fight. The darkness will lift from the world, and the armies will disband. Then, you’ll be free to live where you want, and so will I.”
“You want me to leave Lothlórien?”
“And I’ll leave Mirkwood, and maybe we’ll come back to this ratty town,” he smiled.
I laughed. “There must be somewhere else we can live, if not in Lothlórien or Mirkwood.”
“Then we’ll start anew,” he convinced.
I brushed the hair from his face, tucking a strand behind his ear. “It all sounds wonderful, yet an impossible task. Who knows what the future brings. Just promise me you’ll come back.”
His fingertips caught under my chin, tilting my face up to meet his. He kissed me, slow and deliberate, and I melted against him. “I’ll meet you in the south, and we’ll start our journey there,” he whispered when he released me. “I promise I’ll come back to you.”
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Path of Honor-Part II: Far From Home