Men Die
Legolas had been cautioned that men were lustful and violent. Only
to find that though Aragorn slew Orcs with his hair wild and clothes
greasy with blood, his face as fierce and twisted as the enemies he
hacked down; when he was with the Evenstar, walking slowly across
the streams in Rivendell, the darkness which dogged Aragorn's steps
was but like the foul creature Gollum, an obedient, chained prisoner,
in the steadfast care of a skilful guard.
Such revelations halted Legolas' night song and made him pause, to
turn his face into the stolen view of a chaste kiss shared between
man and she-elf. To feel a pining and an ache hitherto unknown,
mingled with reverence and longing, until Legolas found himself
pledged to Aragorn's leadership, on the quest of the Ring. Let the
smog of Mordor cling to his hair and the gaze of the Eye follow him
south-ward, the youngest Prince of Mirkwood would go where Estel led,
and return him safely to his betrothed.
Resolved to do this, Legolas was prepared for danger and hardship,
but there was one peril Legolas had not taken account of, and his
name was Boromir.
Legolas first encountered Boromir on the last stretches of his
journey to the Council of Elrond. Boromir seemed, in contrast to
Aragorn, a graceless, arrogant mannered man. Who challenged Aragorn,
callously questioning the firmness of resolve in the heir of
Arathorn. With anger, Legolas had defended Aragorn, though it was
hardly his place.
Boromir would dare suggest the Ring could be trusted with him, when
it was plain to Legolas that the man of Gondor could not resist even
the most trifle temptation—such as watching Legolas' face too long,
in a dumbstruck, greedy manner when he thought no one was watching.
Much to Legolas' displeasure, and perhaps the unease of the Hobbit
Fordo, Aragorn gladly accepted Boromir as their comrade. And
because he had given his word to protect the Ringbearer and aid
Aragorn, Legolas thought it best to keep his own council and monitor
Boromir in secret; lest the Elf-friends be tricked or caught
unawares by Boromir's treachery.
Unsavoury as the task was, Legolas shadowed Boromir night and day,
paying attention to his moods and dialogue. Legolas soon found, much
to his surprise, that Boromir was hardy, carrying the weight of extra
drinking water for the Hobbits across the grasslands when Bill was
too loaded down.
Boromir could be friendly and enjoyed mock battles with Merry and
that strange young Hobbit, Pippin. Aragorn particularly enjoyed
speaking with Boromir about strategy and famous battles, on a number
of evenings they sat close together drawing battlements in the dirt
and gesturing enthusiastically at one another, sharing sword
movements they found effective. The way Aragorn's face lost many
years during those companionable moments made Legolas sigh wistfully,
that they were bonded together as men, and him an elf.
At the foot of the cruel mountain, the Ring dangled in Boromir's
grasp and Aragorn's hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Gandalf had
his staff aimed at the small of Boromir's back and Sam his hands
raised in fists. But Legolas' usually deft fingers were too numb to
even reach for an arrow, his placid heart set aflame with doubt by
the heated glare Aragorn directed at Boromir.
Legolas' unlikely suspicions were proven true in Lothlorien, when
aggrieved by the loss of Mithrandir, he sought Aragorn out. By the
remains of a feast laid out by the grey elves, Legolas saw Aragorn
and Boromir locked in a kiss, their arms at their feet, their hands
on each other's faces. It would appear Aragorn had no comfort to
spare Legolas, for he has decided to share it with the man who drew
sword along his side.
Confused and confounded Legolas could not understand how Aragorn
could promise himself to Arwen and yet have dalliances on the side.
To love one so high and pure in his mind, yet desire with his body
another who is manly and hungry.
Aragorn smooths his fingers over the white trees on his armguard and
sings an old battle song in remembrance of his fallen lover. Legolas
turns his head away in sorrow, he feels uneasy in his chest where his
Elven heart beats relentlessly, to see again in his memory Aragorn's
steely face as he pushed the boat carrying Boromir's body over the
fall. Legolas is ashamed of his own thought: now that is done, he
will have no thoughts for any other than Arwen.
"Why is she crying?" frowning, Legolas asked Gimli. "And where is
she going with Aragorn's clothes? Though I suppose they are worth a
burning."
"Don't be stupid laddy, she is weeping with joy at his return and
making off with his laundry," Gimli stroked his beard, a knowing
gleam in his eyes. "That is what royal, warrior women do, to show
they are sweet for a man. Very subtle, proper sort of signalling."
"But Aragorn cannot be interested in her!" Legolas glared at Eowyn's
back, bent over with a sweaty load.
"And who would you have him interested in?" Gimli gave Legolas a
hard look. "He is the heir of Arathorn, Eowyn will be good for him,
they are well matched. She is regal and mortal."
"She is too thin and her hair too light," Legolas murmured, Eowyn's
prettiness would be dull as mud compared to the beauty of the
Evenstar.
At that moment, Aragorn went up to help Eowyn with the carrying and
Eowyn whipped her fair hair over her other shoulder and beamed up at
him. Legolas cringed to see her smile sweet as a girl-child, her
pale blue eyes crinkling. In the grey battlement of Helms Deep,
Eowyn was a wisp of sunlight dancing before storm charged clouds.
Legolas scowled and took deep breaths, tightened his hands on his
elbows but to no avail. His temper flared and Legolas shot away for
the armoury, taking Aragorn's sword with him as he had noticed it
needed cleaning. Wiping away warg fur and orc blood from the blade,
checking its straightness and polishing it with a piece of silk
cloth, Legolas meditated on his anger, dissipating it through
reasoning. In the end deciding that though he looked up to Aragorn
and worshipped the lady Arwen, it would be unbecoming for him to so
jealously guard Aragorn's heart. Let Aragorn do what he will with
it, it was out of Legolas' hands.
Aragorn accepted Legolas' apology gladly, they held each other's
shoulders in a comradely gesture. And Legolas saw that Aragorn's
face was full of affection for him, the new openness between them
cast Legolas deeper in his esteem for the man. A star of hope rose
for them and ere the bellow of a melancholy horn pierced the silent,
fearful camp. Legolas dashed for the front gates, he came to a stop
when he saw what was outside, shocked. Aragorn caught up and
bypassed Legolas, his voice exalted as he greeted the Elven army that
had arrived, embracing Haldir until the elf general blushed.
Gladdened, Legolas ran around helping with the placement of Elven
archers, deriving the best strategy using his own skill, his new
knowledge of the Lorien bow and his observations of orc methods
throughout their trek.
"Aragorn, I have set them in two divided lines, one atop and one
behind the outer walls, we have the quicker, lighter arrows which
splinter to strike as many of their front runners as possible; then
we will have volleys of the longer, deadlier spear-arrows for the
rest of them!" Legolas called as he ran to Aragorn's temporary
quarters, a drafty little room crammed between the armoury and a
storage cell for horse leathers.
"That is good, Legolas," Aragorn called back huffily. "Very argh!
well thought out."
"Aragorn?" Legolas stepped inside.
Though there were no candles, Legolas could see very clearly in the
moonlight that Aragorn had his back pressed against a wall. Legolas
could see the cracks in them and the drips of water which fell past
Aragorn's ear and splattered on Haldir's golden shoulder guards. For
Aragorn was leaning against the stone wall and Holder bent over
Aragorn's chest, rolling chain mail out of the way, he tended with
open mouth and lashing tongue to a pink nipple.
Legolas closed his eyes. If only he could never open them again, it
would be too soon! Legolas meant to pivot on his heels and leave but
Aragorn called out to him in Elvish: "Legolas, my friend, will you
not stay?"
Legolas snapped his eyes open wide and fixed them on Haldir, who was
infuriatingly unhurriedly moving across Aragorn's bosom, smirking
into the man's chest hair.
"Do not worry, Aragorn, you need not speak to me of discretion,"
Legolas said evenly though his own chest was heaving with fury. "I
will not tell anyone of these... encounters of yours. Who you
chose to warm your bed is non of my concern. You are my friend, you
are a good leader, that is all I should need to know."
"Legolas is upset," Haldir's eyes glittered like sapphire as they
swivelled to the side to look mockingly upon Legolas. "He has told
himself many lies in regards to this, white ones big as Mallon leaves
falling in Lothlorien; but now his blood races too quickly through
his veins, I think he will come to realise..."
"If I can ask you this then, Aragorn," stopping Haldir mid-sentence,
Legolas swept up to Aragorn and demanded. "How can a man be so
admirable, to possess all the virtues desirable and yet be so
fickle?"
Aragorn looked stricken by the accusation but Legolas could not help
himself. "I am an Elf and a young one for our kind, but if I were to
love, I would love once and for all time. My love would be deep and
ever patient, it will put down roots in my heart and bloom only when
the one I love has the same to bind me."
"Legolas," Aragorn's eyes had gone soft and misty, a small sad smile
curved his mouth. Aragorn reached out and cupped Legolas' tearful
face in his right hand, Aragorn whispered: "Men die."
Legolas stood dumbfounded.
"Elves can too," Haldir added coolly, tearing his mouth away from
Aragorn's navel. "It is much wiser to take pleasure and small
portions of love where one can, fair princeling, which is what
Aragorn and I were doing before you barged in and started to compose
a sonnet."
"I will not swear undying, single-minded love to you Legolas,"
Aragorn said sincerely, his hand still on Legolas' face, now
caressing his downy cheek. "I did not to Arwen and be in no doubt
that I love you more. I am restless with thoughts of you at night, I
can adore the ground you walk upon for hours, I have not had so close
a friend for years. I have seen how you watch me, I know you love
me."
And Aragon tugged Legolas forwards, pulling him slowly into a kiss.
"Astounding," Legolas heard Haldir say with wonder. "He does, he
weeps, Aragorn how did you manage to be loved by one so beautiful,
his tears are stars and his mouth..."
Haldir drew himself up, pressing his lips against the twitching
corner of Legolas' mouth.
"Insufferable mind-reader," Legolas hissed but turned his head
obligingly, licking Haldir's tongue into his mouth. "Did you count
on this to happen and tricked your way into having two bodies to warm
you tonight?"
"Of course, I packed the army as an after thought," Haldir retorted
bitingly, with teeth on the tenderest spot on Legolas' neck.
Aragorn sighed as he pulled them both onto his bed. "And this is why
no man should ever take to him two elves at the one time, they will
start a conversation."
Legolas laughed and grabbed for the blankets before Haldir could
steal them, he threw it over their heads and dived under, still
laughing happily losing himself between Aragorn and Haldir.
Though Aragorn was not as peerless as he had thought, Legolas did not
in the end fall out of love with men.
For men die and elves can too.
End
by
Poncing Ponies
t was Aragorn who made Legolas fall in love with men. Wing-foot and
quick-sighted, Aragorn's tread fell lightly upon Mirkwood with easy
care. Through a whiskered mouth, the man could curl his tongue into
the clear accent of Rivendell. An air which reminded Legolas of Lord
Elrond, proclaimed Aragorn the king of men more subtly than if he had
come dressed in the richest of robes and gaudiest of crowns.
