Title: Bound by Desire

Part : 5/5

Author : Swilite

Rating: R

Pairings : Aragorn/Legolas, Boromir/Legolas, Implied Boromir/Aragorn

Warnings : Slash, non-con, bondage, slavery, character death

Disclaimer : I don't own anything, it's just a fantasy we all share. Don't sue. All characters are wonderful figments of Tolkien's imagination.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. If ANY of these themes bother you, do not read this story. I cannot emphasize it enough.


I drifted in and out of fever-induced delirium for the next while, never entirely able to comprehend the situation in which I now found myself. The only thing I was truly able to understand was that the pain that had knocked me out had subsided little, and that my arms were no longer bound together. When I did return to the waking world, I was hardly aware of it, for the room spun dizzily around me and I was unable to think logically, leaving me to wonder if I had even awoken at all.

On one such occasion I threw my head to rid myself of the monsters plaguing my mind, unaware that they existed only in my head. My vision was blurry and unfocused and from the intense glare of the light I knew my pupils were dilated, only adding to my pain. I moaned loudly and raised one leaden arm to cover my eyes, shielding myself from the relentless brightness.

My palm clapped over my eyes, giving me momentary repose only to focus on the many other pains afflicting my sick body.

'Manke naa amin? (Where am I?)' I whispered. Under my current condition, I was unaware of the language that I spoke, I knew it only to be the sole one I could focus on. I did notice, however, that talking only caused me more pain, for it hurt my throat to speak the words and my voice was rough and broken.

'Dina. Amin dela ten'lle, lle anta esta. (Be silent. I am worried about you, you must rest.)' I did not even recognize the language for what it was, I only knew that the hand placed upon my brow was cool and comforting and that the words sounded gentle and soft to my ears. I stilled and relaxed, titling my head to rest it in the supporting hand.

The next time I awoke I fared little better, although the pain had subsided slightly and moving my arm did not take all of my concentration. I twisted in the sweat soaked sheet surrounding my body and opened my eyes, blinking rapidly. I remembered little to none of the conversation I had had before, the only thing I could recall was the beating I had suffered and Boromir's malicious smile of contempt while I cried for mercy under the whip.

I shuddered in revulsion, closing my eyes and breathing deeply to still the spinning room. My attempt was unsuccessful and I remained still until sleep took me in an attempt to escape the relentless hell my tortured body dotted upon me.

Even in dreams I could not escape reality, for my dreams were more like nightmares. For hours the sole dreams that plagued me were ones in which I was unable to escape the faces of the guards who had whipped me, yet I was incapable of waking. My body was sick and beaten and was still trying to recover from the near fatal incident.

I know not how long I remained in the healing ward, for the draught Boromir had forced me to consume was the source of my sickness and even after my unconscious spells turned into deep dreams I was unable to find the repose that I needed to heal.

One day I awoke to find my condition had improved drastically, for I was no longer hallucinogenic and my body did not burn with raging fever. Although I still felt incredibly weary and drained, I did not want to return to sleep immediately and pushed myself onto my elbows, casting a curious glance around the room in which I was confined.

The air was heavy with healing herbs and I rubbed one hand over my tired eyes, chasing away the sleep that was setting in. My movement triggered a reaction by my bedside and I was shocked to find Legolas peering up at me through bleary eyes.

He had, apparently, been resting, for his arms were still crossed on top of my mattress and his chin rested by his wrists. His hair was in disarray, cascading down his back and falling across his arms and his silver eyes were dark with exhaustion. Upon seeing me, he smiled and lifted one hand, causing the chains attached to the manacles around both wrists to rattle, and resting it upon my arm.

'How do you feel, Estel?' he asked quietly. I was too shocked by his appearance and his statement, however, to reply immediately.

'Legolas!' I whispered when at last I found my voice. He smiled in reply and sat up on the chair situated at my bedside, gently pushing me back into the mattress with one hand on my chest.

'Yes, you are not hallucinating.'

'Why did you call me Estel?' I asked, trying to make sense of my predicament.

Legolas leaned over me, smiling. 'You speak much in your sleep. Why did you never tell me that you were reared in Imladris, or that the Lord Elrond was your adopted father?'

I could not answer, for in truth I had no reply.

Legolas' hand dropped from my chest to my side and traced a careful line along my ribs, applying slight pressure. I hissed in response and jerked away, glaring in spite of myself.

'You are not healing properly,' the elf said, and his eyes bellied the concerned tone of his voice. I remained silent, my eyes fluttering closed as I began slowly to recall the events of the past couple days.

'It was you who spoke to me in Sindarin,' I said quietly. Legolas murmured in agreement, his fingers tracing small circles through the cloth.

I reached up, clasping my palm over his hand and stilling his movement. Legolas smiled calmly and reached up with his free hand to brush unruly locks away from my face.

'You should sleep,' he said, 'you are not yet healed.'

'And yourself?' I asked, my eyes narrowed. 'You are far from attaining perfect health.'

Legolas smiled and rested his palm on my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip. 'I am simply relieved that you are alright.'

The tone of his voice touched me deeply and I pulled him into a faint embrace before reclining, closing my eyes and resting peacefully for the first time since my beating.

I left the ward not a week after the encounter, and my first destination was predictably Legolas' cell. Faramir had informed me of where the elf was being kept and I was relieved to find that the guards had not taken the liberty of using their superior position to extend their rights into beating Legolas. Much to my surprise, he seemed well taken care of, considering the circumstances. The sole restraints he bore were the manacles around his wrists that I had witnessed previously, and his many wounds had been tended to.

He was as delighted to see me as I was to see him, and in the next couple hours were spent deep in discussion. It was during that time that I learnt of reason behind Boromir's madness.

As with all nights prior to the night of his death, he had taken Legolas, but to the elf's surprise the former King had not been as rough as he had in previous encounters. He had still forced himself upon his unwilling consort, but for the first time since his capture Boromir had taken the elf gently, more akin to a lover then to an owner. When Legolas came, it was my name he had cried.

The elf had not immediately realized his dire mistake, and it was only when Boromir threw him to the ground and began to beat him that Legolas realized his blunder, yet by that point there was naught he could do. Eventually, Boromir had withdrawn and summoned his guards, ordering them to bring me to the dungeon in which I would be beaten. Legolas had begged his master, telling him that his desires had never expanded beyond his imagination and that I should not be punished for his thoughts, but Boromir had retorted in kind, saying that he should not have trusted me. Apparently, he had seen my expression when I cast eyes upon the elf, but he had continually left Legolas in my presence for the sole sake of tempting me, believing that I was too loyal to take what I did not belong to me.

From there, Legolas was led to the cell and forced to wait in silence as Boromir degraded him with his hands and with his words until I arrived. I had no doubt that he would have continued to torment the elf before my eyes had he not been so intent on hurting me, and I was thankful that that, at least, was something to which I had not been subjected.

Over the next week I spent many hours in Faramir's company, and found in him a better friend then I could ever have believed possible. During those days was when I finally admitted by my true feelings for the elf, and to my shock it came to the new King as no surprise.

The day of Legolas' trial I was sent to bring him from his cell and tend to him, for he was to attend dressed as his heritage dictated, not the situation. He was glad to see me, and his elation only increased when I unlocked his wrists from the shackles around them. When we left the cell, he kept close to me to avoid the touches of the few bold guards who were brave enough to run their hands over his body as he passed or cup his backside in their palms, and I pretended not to notice.

We reached my chambers and Legolas entered, looking relaxed and at ease in my presence. I surprised him by taking the pile of clothes I had selected earlier and handing them to him, for it was apparent by their very texture that these were not raiment suited for a prisoner. He raised one eyebrow in question and excepted the tunic and leggings I passed to him.

'Is there some occasion of which I should be notified?' he asked.

'Your trial is today,' I replied, watching his reaction.

Legolas gave a small gasp and nearly dropped the garments in his surprise. I laughed, for he looked so young and vulnerable in his shock, and then gathered him in my arms and pressed a quick kiss to his parted lips.

We arrived at the trial early as Faramir had dictated, and though I was nervous, my attention was not on the event about to take place. I had guessed correctly in choosing suitable attire for the elf, and I was unable to take my gaze off of him. He had pulled his hair back into traditional Sinda braids, one on either side of his head, pinned together at the back, his pointy ears exposed completely. His hair had been brushed and hung down his back in a curtain of gold, and I longed desperately to run my fingers through his silky locks.

Legolas looked magnificent in hues of green, and judging by the tempting looks he kept directing at me he was aware of how my body was reacting to his appearance. I considered throttling him where he stood, for if he batted his lashes at me or wet his lips with his tongue one more time I was certain I would certainly loose control of myself.

'Aragorn, you look flustered. Are you alright?' he asked, and actually managed to sound slightly concerned. I glared at him, but was saved from a verbal reply by Faramir's entrance.

The room fell silent as he took his seat at the head of the hall, and when he looked to where I was seated with the elf, even Faramir could not contain his reaction at the sight of the elf sitting next to me.

When Legolas was called forth, the hall was engulfed in complete silence. I pulled my eyes from the sight before me to glance over my shoulder at the many soldiers present and clenched my fists, recognizing the look of primal lust on their faces. I schooled my face to impassiveness and returned my gaze to the elf, noting how tightly he gripped the railing before him in his nervousness. His eyes darted back to me and I gave him a quick, encouraging smile.

When Legolas announced himself as Legolas, son of Thranduill, none in the hall save Faramir seemed as shocked by the declaration as I. Yet that should have come as no surprise, for the men of Minis Tirith were vain and knew little beyond that which was connected to their own race. One look at Faramir convinced me that his time studying elves had been well spend, for I was not the sole person to recognize Thranduill as the King of Mirkwood.

As Faramir had predicted, the trial soon ended and Legolas was released, free of charges. None had spoken out against the elf, though I was certain this was due to much different reasons then those that should have been. An intelligent being would have recognized that to sentence Legolas to death would have brought the force of an elven army so great Minis Tirith could not begin to imagine the lives that would be lost, but few were able to recognize the threat. Instead, when Legolas returned to his seat at my side and the trial was declared adjourned, I caught many men watching him, their expressions those of undisguised desire. They believed, without a doubt, that with Boromir no longer around to punish those who advanced upon the elf they could easily attain their desires.

I had grown weary of the world of men. As much as I enjoyed being among my own race, I soon found myself spending many days desiring to be free of their company. I longed to be among elves yet again, for it had been many decades since I had walked through the gardens of Imladris or spoken with those I would call family. I no longer cursed the Valar for leading Legolas into Boromir's clutches, for had he not arrived I may never have realized that, though I still lived among men, my heart remained among elves.

And so, it was those emotions that led me to Faramir's chambers one night, and caused me to confess that I would be departing within the week. I gave him no indication of how long I would be gone, for none was needed. Although the King seemed sorrowed by my departure, he was not in the least bit surprised.

When I rode out of the city not two days later, Legolas was at my side. He was in a state of shock, for when he had awoken that morning the very last thing he had been expecting to hear was that he would at last be rid of the city in which he had been contained and suffered so much abuse. He was even more surprised when I told him that I would be departing with him, but the gratification I had been rewarded with left no doubt in my mind that I had made the correct choice.

We pressed the pace that day, riding as hard as we could to leave Minis Tirith far behind. By the time we set camp the sun had already set. The sky was overcast and threatened to rain, and so we chose to rest in the woods. As I lay down the bedroll we would share, Legolas gathered wood for the fire. When he did not return immediately I did not worry, but after what I believed to have been a sufficient amount of time to have passed I began to look for him, my protectiveness leading me to believe the worst.

I found Legolas not far from camp. He stood in the middle of a clearing, his arms stretched up and out above his head, the beginning of the rain pooling in his palms and sliding down his arms to dampen the light tunic through which twin dusky circles were visible on his chest. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, and with each breath his chest rose and fell visibly. His neck was arched and his head tipped back, on his face a veil of sheer ecstasy.

When he felt my eyes upon him, he dropped his arms back down to his sides and opened his eyes, watching me with a small smile and beckoned for me to approach with one finger.

I felt hesitant to break the moment, for in my eyes Legolas had never appeared so fair nor so glorious as he did at this moment. Perhaps, like an animal, he could sense my hesitancy, for his smile broadened and he took a step towards me, his body swaying slightly with the action.

'Are you afraid, son of Gondor?' he asked, his voice music to my ears. Each word a melodious chord, and I found myself unable to resist his charm.

'Of you?' I asked, the corners of my mouth lifting to match his wolfish grin. I stepped forwards, my indecision broken. 'Never.'

Legolas smiled when I reached him, and the rain that began a few moments later was a welcome relief, the freezing water cooling our overheated skin. I wrapped my arms around him and slid one hand under his tunic, resting my palm against his bare skin. A shiver of delight passed through his lithe body and he pressed himself closer to me in reply.

It was the first time I had even been able to hold him freely, for my life over the past month had become a facade to hide what I could not deny. His body was a welcome weight in my arms, and I couldn't help the sigh of contentment that passed my lips.

Legolas raised one hand, running it through my now soaking locks, his fingers brushing the skin of my neck as they descended. His face was flushed in delight, his eyes shinning with desire. I was oblivious to the rain that chilled my body, my attention was focused on the manner Legolas' thin clothes clung to the curves of his slim body.

Legolas moved his head beside my own, his breath warming my neck. 'What do we do now?' his asked, his voice dripping with sin. My own breathing hitched and my chest contracted at those words, earning myself another of those wolfish grins from the elf in my arms.

I used my free hand to tip his face upwards. His breath ghosted over my face, and when I leant forwards the portion of an inch that was needed his lips parted in submission and he placed one hand on my lower back, urging me as close as was physically possible. I complied, pressing my torso against his own, and he melted into my embrace, his body molding to fit against my own. Chest to chest, groin to groin, and toe to toe we shared the deepest kiss I had ever experienced. I used my mouth to tip his head back an inch more to deepen the kiss even further.

Legolas' sweet taste invaded my senses as my tongue explored the cavern of his mouth, our lips moving in complete synchronization as my tongue delved deeper, his small moan vibrating against my lips. I groaned quietly in reply and turned my head to taste him from another angle, my eyes closed tightly in bliss.

Legolas' hand on my back bunched in my wet tunic and the fingers of his opposite hand tangled in my hair. He leant into my embrace, shielding my chest from the rain that continued to fall, soaking my back and head. I felt the water running down my face and my arms and welcomed the cool sense of reality that came with the sensation, for without it I would not have remembered the moment so vividly. I was caught between two extremities, the rain's chilling touch and Legolas' overheated body, and I pulled him closer as I began to shiver.

When we broke our lip lock, we did not withdraw, but rather panted heavily in each other's embrace. Legolas rested his head against my chest and I tipped my chin up to rest on the top of his head, closing my eyes to avoid the sting of the rain. For long minutes we remain as two spent swimmers clinging to each other in deep water until Legolas' hand slid up my back, aware of the tremors that racked my body.

'Are you cold, Aragorn?' he questioned, though the answer was obvious. He moved out of my embrace and took my hand in his own, seeking cover under one of the taller trees surrounding the clearing. I followed him in silence and noticed for the first time the small shivers that he sought to hide.

I leaned back against the trunk of the tree under which we had taken momentary refuge, pulling Legolas into my arms and resting him against my chest. His fingers traced my face and he closed his eyes, his lips pressing butterfly kisses along the trails his hands had taken.

I wrapped one arm around his slim waist and held the other between his shoulder blades. I tipped my head back as his mouth moved down to my neck , murmuring encouragement as his lips caressed my throat.

When Legolas moved his head back upwards to capture my lips in a kiss, I allowed, even encouraged, him to take control, eager to see what he would do and how far he would go. When I slipped my tongue back into my mouth, allowing his own to follow, he felt timid and reluctant, moving slowly. I did not press him, but encouraged him, moaning quietly and arching my back when one of his hands slipped down my spine.

Legolas' roaming hands moved up my chest, pulling franticly at the ties of my tunic. He quickly dispatched of the garment and I shrugged my shoulders, allowing it to pool at my feet before repeating the action on him. He groaned in pleasure and his fingers played across my body while I unclothed him, lost in the bliss his skilled hands supplied. I slipped his leggings off the curves of his hips and his mouth broke away as he withdrew, kicking the restricting garment off his ankles.

I leaned back as Legolas sunk to his knees before me, and the sight of the young elf naked before me was nearly my undoing. He wrapped his hands around my leggings and pulled them slowly downwards, worshipping each inch of flesh with his mouth, yet persistently ignoring my straining erection. He licked down the insides of my knees, and I gripped the tree behind me, thankful for the extra support.

Legolas rose to his feet, whispering nonsensical words in his native language. I stepped away from the tree and folded my legs beneath me, reclining onto the wet ground until Legolas' arm surrounding my shoulders stopped me. He folded one slim leg on either side of my body and seated himself on my thighs. I admired the passionate expression reflected within his eyes and he smiled, brushing wayward strands of hair away from my face.

I trailed my hand down Legolas' body and noted the shivers that the simple action produced. His body arched as I reached his lower back, and his eyes fluttered when our hips made contact.

I soon lost my ability to reason, for Legolas was in the same state of mind as I, and we did not delay in our teasing or foreplay. Only after the rain had stopped and we were resting in silence did my ability to think rationally return. As we had progressed I had retaken control, exerting dominance over my willing, submissive lover. I lay now on my back, looking up towards the heavens while my hands caressed Legolas' body, sprawled across my chest. He had yet to catch his breath and the sole sound that broke the still air was that of his ragged panting.

I ran my fingers through Legolas' hair, feeling his back rise and fall with each breath he took. He twisted his body so that he may rest facing me, his passionate silver eyes nearly shinning in the moonlight that was beginning to seep through the thinning clouds overhead. His lips were swollen from the force behind our kisses and his body was aglow with sweat just beginning to cool.

'Aragorn,' he whispered, his melodic voice carrying easily to my ears, 'where are you bound for?'

I tipped my head, watching his face where it rested on my chest. 'I wish to return to Imladris,' I told him.

He nodded as best he could. 'May I come with you?' he asked. 'My father will not object to my stay in Rivendell, Lord Elrond is a close companion of my father's.'

I smiled. 'Of course, I have no desire to leave you.'

He sighed happily and fell silent, content with the answer I had given to him. The silence between us was a comfortable one, and I tipped my head back, searching the night sky for Earendil.

We eventually returned to camp and I lit a small fire close to the bedroll to keep us warm while Legolas lay down and watched me, his eyes half lidded in fatigue. By the time I crawled in with him, he had already succumbed to dreams. Subconsciously, he nuzzled in closer to me when I stretched out beside him, and I wrapped one arm protectively around his waist.

I listened to Legolas' quiet breathing, the sound lulling me sleep, pulling the sheet up higher around our bodies and closing my eyes. Still, I thought before the peace of sleep claimed me completely, I could not return home soon enough. I missed the last homely house and my adoptive family terribly. Soon we would reach Imladris, and it would be good to be home again. There, at last, I could settle down and have a chance to rest.