Chapter 20: Completion
In the private chambers of the elven king, the Mirkwood monarch was seated in his favorite armchair, his strong, slim fingers drumming softly against the rich fabric. Before him sat Thoronthalion, his expression outwardly calm, though the king knew that his eldest son was as restless as he was. Arwen rested securely on the arm of the prince's chair, leaning slightly against her husband, her fingers entwined with those of his. By the king's side stood Alkarmenel with his back to him, for the prince was looking out the window.
The king did not have to ask to know the object of his sons' reflective musings: like their father, the princes were thinking about Legolas and the conversation he must be having at this moment with Aragorn – a conversation that they hoped would clear the air between the young lovers and bring about a happy ending to the unhappy situation that had arisen. Thranduil's heart was much lighter than it had been on his ride back to Mirkwood a day ago, but he too was waiting in anticipation for the outcome of the meeting between his youngest son and the new king of Gondor.
"Do not be anxious, Adar," said Thalion reassuringly, as much for his sake as for his father's. "I am certain all will be well once they have talked together."
"One can only hope," Menel mumbled to the window, but it did not escape the sharp ears of his family. "I don't want Aragorn to hurt Legolas again."
"Come, Menel, we have agreed that that was a mistake, and one for which he cannot be blamed," the king reminded him.
"And he is setting it right, is he not?" Arwen added in defense of the man she had helped raise from childhood.
"One can only hope," Menel repeated, though he had to concede to the truth of their words.
"What should one hope?" asked a rich voice as Elladan and Elrohir entered the chambers. They had accompanied Aragorn on the ride from Gondor and had been refreshing themselves with the fine wines from the cellar of the king. "What should one hope for?" Elladan repeated, looking around.
"That Aragorn does not make another mistake," Menel answered quietly, and turned back to the window.
Never before had Aragorn seen Legolas' face as ashen as it was at this moment.
The elf had been warm and glowing when he and Aragorn had been kissing and holding each other close. But as soon as the man had pulled back from their intimate touches, Legolas' eyes had gone wide with shock, and he had immediately paled. Now the light began to leave his eyes, and then with the smallest of whimpers, he went feeble, his body sinking into the grass like a limp rag.
Aragorn's own eyes widened with fear. "Legolas!" he cried, going to his knees at once and enclosing the elf in his arms. "Legolas, what's wrong? What's wrong?" he asked frantically.
Legolas did not answer, but looked at the man through half-hooded eyes. He could not speak, but one question was racing through his mind. Why? he cried out in silence.
Aragorn grew frantic at the sight of the ashen face. "Legolas, please tell me – what is wrong?" he begged, studying the fair face with worried eyes. "Legolas, speak – please speak!"
The elf swallowed painfully. "Why?" he croaked at last. In his voice there were a thousand questions, and in his eyes a thousand sorrows.
The man shook his head in confusion. "Why?" he echoed. "Why… what?"
"You would leave me again?" the elf asked weakly. "After all you said… you would leave me once more?"
Aragorn grew even more confused, his brows knitting. "Leave you!" he cried. "What do you mean? Why would I leave you?"
Tears filled Legolas' eyes. "You… you draw away from me," he said, "yet you ask me why I say that?"
A light of understanding appeared in the young king's eyes, and his features softened in relief. He shook his head vigorously and held the elf tightly against him, burying his face in the golden hair.
"Oh, Legolas, Legolas, you misunderstand!" he said earnestly as his fingers threaded through the golden strands. "I drew back only because our desires were growing and growing. And I wasn't sure if… if I could hold back. My love, my love!" The man looked honestly into the elf's eyes. "Meleth, I made your brother a promise two years ago: that I would not take your honor before we were properly bonded. I mean to keep that vow, my beloved, and that was the only reason I drew away."
It was as if a veil of shadows was being lifted from Legolas' face. To Aragorn's great relief, the elf's features softened, and the face that had been drained of blood moments before now began to show the same vitality that had been there, though the young elf's speech still showed no coherence.
"You… you…" Legolas began, clearly struggling for words.
The man laughed lightly and rested his forehead against the elf's. "I love you, my heart, my life," he whispered with feeling. "Never again would I leave you or push you away. I'm sorry my actions imparted the wrong idea."
When the elf sighed in unspoken relief, Aragorn placed his mouth close to the elven ears. "Legolas, I only wish to make our bond lawful in the eyes of your family," he whispered, "and then… and then… nothing will stop me from loving you… in every way possible."
Legolas blushed, and warmth spread through him at the suggestions Aragorn was whispering. His slender fingers traced Aragorn's jaw and then the man's full lips before his own lips claimed the man's. "I can hardly wait," said the elf as he ended the kiss. "And we shall not wait."
Aragorn knitted his brows again. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I would not violate –"
His words were cut off by the elf's clear laughter, and he found himself pulled to his feet by the suddenly spritely elf, and led in a run back to the palace caves.
"Legolas, wait!" he cried helplessly as he struggled to keep up with the laughing elf, but Legolas would not stop. Grasping Aragorn's hand tightly, the elf sprinted lightly over grass and twig and fallen leaf, leading the hapless man down the familiar path to his home. Ten minutes later, a breathless Aragorn found himself facing an astonished King of Mirkwood, his two equally astonished elder sons and daughter-in-law, and the twin sons of Elrond, in the airy chambers where they had all been waiting. The elves leapt from their seats when a smiling Legolas burst into the room with a panting Aragorn in tow.
"My lord, my… my apologies!" the man gasped out at the sight of a flabbergasted Thranduil, feeling slightly embarrassed by how disheveled he himself must look.
Before the king could answer or close his open mouth, Legolas spoke. "Adar, you are King!" he said breathlessly, his eyes shining with excitement. "Bless our bond today – Aragorn's and mine. Let our joining be brought about by your hand, here in our fair woods. Will you do that for us, Adar?"
The elven king looked in surprise at his son, dumbfounded by the sudden but heartfelt request. His eyes shifted to Aragorn, an unvoiced question on the tip of his tongue.
The new king of Gondor was, in truth, as astonished as he was by Legolas' unexpected speech, but he quickly recovered and nodded in agreement. "I join Legolas in his request, my lord," he said, to Legolas' delight. "There will be much greater celebration later in Gondor, of course, especially as Gandalf and Lord Elrond await us in the White City. But if Legolas wishes it to be so – and if you consent to performing the ceremony – there is nothing that I wish more than to be wed to your son today, whom I love with all my heart, and to be bonded with him according to the laws of your people."
Everyone in the room looked at Thranduil, awaiting his answer. The king himself looked from his son to Aragorn and back again, wondering at the impetuous behavior of his youngest heir. But the sheer joy he saw on the face of Legolas made him forget everything except his own love for his son, and with a huge smile of his own, he answered: "It shall be so."
The cheers that erupted around him told him he had made the right decision, and the young couple could hardly breathe for the heartfelt embraces they received from Arwen and the other elves in the room. Before the end of the day, Aragorn and Legolas were joined in matrimony in a ceremony witnessed by members of their families and by the ecstatic citizens of the Woodland realm. Then preparations began in earnest for a celebration to be held the following day, as the people of the Woodland rejoiced at the happiness of their beloved youngest prince.
While the elves of the Greenwood worked through the night to prepare for the feast, Aragorn and Legolas lay quietly on the prince's bed, pondering on how quickly the events of the day had developed. They could hardly believe that after two years of restraint, doubt, pain and yearning, they were finally together.
At some point during the day, as soon as the King had made it known that his youngest son would be bonded with the King of Gondor, Arwen had discreetly seen to the preparation of Legolas' sleeping quarters for the newly wedded couple. Fresh linen was laid, and scented candles and fragrant blooms decorated the chamber. Cheese, succulent fruit, and the King's best wine were laid out in splendid array.
As inviting as the food and wine were, Aragorn and Legolas were hungry for something else. They were burning with desire for each other's body, but they took time first to talk and to reveal many thoughts and feelings that they had kept to themselves during the Quest. Aragorn spoke of the times when he had sorrowed in silence, nursing uncertainties and disappointments. Legolas confessed the fears he had felt throughout the Quest, not for himself, but for Aragorn and his family if he should fall. They talked quietly, sometimes laughing lightly as they recalled humorous moments with the Hobbits, sometimes weeping for the friends they had lost. But finally, they turned their attention to each other, and only each other.
Legolas lay prone, looking up into the face of the man he loved, while Aragorn lay on his side, propping his head up with one arm and looking down tenderly at the elf he had married. Legolas' long fingers played gently with strands of the man's dark hair that fell attractively from behind one ear, and he looked so calm and sweet that Aragorn felt his heart flowing over with love for this beautiful being who had incredibly become his today.
"I love you, Le'las," the King of Gondor whispered, his eyes locking with the mesmerizing ones of his beloved. "I love you, I am nothing with you," he repeated before lowering his lips to the soft ones beneath and capturing them tenderly. Slowly, his hand moved downward till it reached the elf's slim waist; then it gradually slid lower, over where he could feel his spouse's elfhood begin to make itself known, and his hand lay there expectantly, tantalizingly.
With the softest of moans, Legolas opened his mouth and allowed Aragorn to taste him, feeling his own passion grow with the seductive movements of the man's tongue and lips. His slender fingers gripped the dark hair and molded themselves around the kingly head, drawing Aragorn deeper into the kiss. He savored the wild scent of the man and drank deeply of the honeyed kiss.
Before either could realize what was happening, the hands of Man and Elf began to shed each other of their clothes. Bathed in the soft candlelight, Legolas could not help trembling with new desire while Aragorn undressed him slowly and ran his fingers and tongue lovingly over every inch of the creamy elven skin, nipping and sucking gently till the elf was moaning with unbridled desire. When his mouth reached Legolas' hardened shaft, Aragorn lifted his head to look at his beloved and found the beautiful creature's hands gripping the bed linen helplessly.
"Estel," the elf sighed. "Estel… have mercy," he begged, his fingers trying to grasp Aragorn's hair.
Smiling, the man gripped the elf's hips and closed his mouth eagerly over the pearly rod, enjoying the feel of wrapping his tongue around it and sucking on it. A gasp broke from Legolas' lips, and his growing moans fed the man's own passion. Taking the elven shaft almost into his throat, Aragorn sucked on it again and again like the most succulent delicacy in the world, trying to sate his hunger and failing. He felt his own manhood grow painfully hard and he shivered from the agony of not being able to satisfy it yet.
Abruptly, he stopped his ministrations on Legolas' leaking rod, earning a cry of frustration from the elf. Grinning wickedly, he moved upwards along Legolas' body till they were face to face. He looked down at the over-bright, desire-filled and pleading eyes, and smiled teasingly.
"Estel…" the elf begged. "What are you doing?"
Prolonging the torture of the elf and controlling his own body that was in truth bursting with the desire to love the being beneath it, Aragorn wrapped strands of Legolas' golden hair around the fingers of one hand, while the other reached downwards, trailing over the elven body with deliberate, maddening slowness till the fingers reached the opening they sought. Gently, and temptingly, they traced the rim of the orifice, teasing it.
"I like you here, Le'las," he said sultrily. "I like you…. here… and here…. and here," he echoed as his fingers continued to touch Legolas in various delicious places. Staring into Legolas' eyes, Aragorn became lost in the blue pools of liquid passion, and with a groan he slammed his lips once more onto the elf's, kissing him till it seemed the earth moved.
Somehow, the man's hand was able to reach for the jar of fragrant oil someone had thoughtfully left beside the bed. Blindly, he unscrewed the top and coated his fingers generously. Almost delirious with passion now, Aragorn reached once more for the opening to that most secret and private of places in his beloved's body, and inserted his fingers to prepare it for the act of achieving union that both of them knew was to come. Squirming, Legolas burned with both initial discomfort and anticipation.
Then, when he felt his elf was ready to receive him, Aragorn thought about that night in Imladris many, many years ago when he had been but a child demanding that Legolas dance with him, and he recalled the words he had used then to express his desire. "Grant Estel his 'zire," he had said then, and he whispered them now into the elven ear, making Legolas shudder with willing surrender. "Grant your Estel his greatest 'zire," he said with all sincerity.
The elf caressed the strong shoulders above him and smiled, looking deeply into the eyes of his life partner. It seemed to him that a song – one that had been with him a long, long time ago when he had been safe and warm in his naneth's womb – came unbidden into his mind, urging him to find completion. "Take your 'zire, my Estel, my love," he said. "Take me, and my body, and my heart, and all of me."
Fired by those words, and without wasting another moment, Aragorn captured Legolas' lips once more and took his 'zire' at the same time, sheathing himself quickly and fully into Legolas' pliant body even as his tongue plunged itself into the welcoming mouth. Legolas wrapped his long legs around the man's waist and gave himself up to their union. Sensuously, Aragorn tasted his elf both ways at once, stroking and thrusting and withdrawing and stroking and thrusting and withdrawing, skin to skin and flesh against flesh, slowly at first, then faster and faster and more feverishly, till the elf was on fire, screaming into the man's mouth, weeping from the sheer and utter pleasure of the joining. Helplessly, the elven fingers dug into the man's muscles as Aragorn rocked him, and the elf felt himself drowning in a pool of passion and ecstasy, the depths of which he could no longer fathom. On and on they rode upon strong waves of incredible pleasure, till all at once, they peaked in an explosion of wild colors, screaming names into each other's mouths, and soaring to a plane of existence neither had reached before.
The lovers remained on that plane for a long, long time, colors swirling about them, tossed about in their turbulent storm of passion and pleasure. The moments stretched out before they fell slowly back into Middle-earth again, and became once again aware of their hot, sated bodies. They lay side by side, their eyes closed and their hands clasped in affection, unable to do much more than breathe, and watch the dancing shadows on the walls, and listen to the sound of their breathing.
"Estel," Legolas said at last, his cheeks still flushed and wet with tears from the intensity of their union.
"Mmmm," Aragorn murmured contentedly, opening his eyes lazily and turning just a degree toward Legolas to give the elf a smile. "Yes, my heart?"
Legolas continued to look up at the ceiling of his room. "I first knew you as a child, Estel," he said, his voice a mixture of admiration, astonishment and love. "But I have found out tonight…. that… that… oh Estel, you are no longer little!"
Aragorn burst out laughing at the heartfelt confession. "Is that a compliment, my love?" he asked, reaching to stroke the elf's face tenderly, earning a smile in return. His eyes softened immeasurably at the sight of the beautiful being who was now his mate in every way. "Yes, how far we have come since that day, meleth," he whispered. "Who would have thought how this would all end, as it has tonight? I pray we find such joy every night for the rest of our lives."
Legolas turned to him and nodded, his eyes shining. "It has ended as we hoped it would, meleth," he concurred happily. "And now let us see if it has indeed in every way, my sweet, sweet adan."
Aragorn narrowed his eyes slightly. "What do you mean?"
The elf kept his eyes fastened on the puzzled man before him, but his fingers groped for something under his pillow and pulled it out a flourish. He raised his upper body and twisted himself so that he was propped on his elbows, while his hands deftly removed an object from the small pouch he had retrieved. As the fascinated man watched, Legolas held out his palm. On it lay the two halves of the green stone that belonged to him and Aragorn – except that they were no longer two halves.
"See how they have joined?" the elf said in a hushed voice, studying the green stone, now fused as one piece. As they looked at it, it grew warm in the elf's palm, and flecks of light appeared in it and made it seem alive. Then it seemed to Legolas that the song played once more in his heart and ears, and the look of awe in Aragorn's eyes told him that his soul mate had heard it as well.
Legolas' eyes shone with tears as he remembered his mother. Lovingly, he put the stone away, and before Aragorn knew what was happening, the elf had lain himself on top of the man and held his hands fast against the bed.
"My turn now to mark you and to make you mine," he said laughingly, kissing the nose of the speechless king trapped beneath him. Then he whispered into the ear of the one he had wed for life: "My heart has been unbroken, Estel, and when I claim your body, I will be – in every way – complete."
So for the rest of the night, the elf went on to do just that.
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