Shakily, Faramir climbed up beside the vigilant elf, who was stationed
in the watchtower’s highest reach, and seated himself on the rough
stone. He glimpsed downwards to see that they were very high above the
ground, and swallowed down a rush of nausea. Still weakened from his
injuries at Osgiliath, he braced his back against the jagged brink and
forced a calm composure. “What do you see?” he asked.
Legolas spared him a quick glance, then resumed his wide-eyed watch
of the great gates of Minas Tirith. “I await Elrond and his daughter,”
he answered “They will arrive soon, and Aragorn will wed the Lady
Arwen.”
The young steward speculated on his companion a moment. “It is
my guess,” he said carefully, “That this union is not to
your liking.”
Legolas looked at him in surprise. His eyes faltered in a long pause
before he spoke in confidence “I have not the privilege of an
opinion on the matter. I am only a friend to them, an ally, no more.”
“You care deeply for him. I see it.” Faramir observed.
After another hesitation, Legolas’ eyes darted towards the gates
again. “I do. He is my friend.”
“Your secrets are your own, my dear elf. What is in your heart
may remain there, but I see the truth, and I have compassion. I know
what it is to love, and for that love to be unreturned.” The man’s
blue eyes brimmed at the reminder of Denethor’s malice and Éowyn’s
rejection. He took a deep breath and settled his inner conflict to focus
on the elf’s current circumstances.
Legolas’ brilliant blue eyes glistened with tears. “I will
appreciate your discretion, my Lord Steward.”
“Your secrets are safe with me,” Faramir assured him. “I
hope that you will see me as a confidant and a friend. I promise you
that I would always value your friendship.”
Again, the elf’s eyes beheld him. Curiosity and a bit of perception
replaced despair. “I thank you for your gift of friendship,”
he said, “I will accept it and offer you mine.”
Faramir smiled at him. “Then, will you come down from this high
place with me? We have much to discuss.”
Legolas was reluctant, but after a moment of contemplation, swung down
from his high perch and reached to assist Faramir to the roof as well.
“What do we have to discuss?” he asked as they proceeded
down the rock stairs that led into the halls of the white castle.
“I want to hear all about your travels with my brother, Boromir.
Will you tell me?”
Legolas drew a deep sigh, understanding. “Yes, I will tell you,”
he answered.
They sat together in the garden after their long conversation, and
Faramir’s fingers idly began to thread through the elf’s
long hair. “If the Lady Arwen does come and weds our king, what
will you do?” he asked.
Legolas shrugged helplessly. “What can I do? I will sail into
the west.”
“You can stay here,” He leaned slightly closer and spoke
lowly. “You can stay with me.”
“For what purpose? Gimli and I have much to do before we depart
for the Grey Havens.” Confused, Legolas held his gaze.
“Legolas, you are such a fair creature,” Faramir murmured.
“You are sweet, gentle and kind.” He touched his nose lightly
to the silky blond hair. “Even your smell is pleasing to the senses.
I would take pleasure in your company.”
The elf suddenly understood and was astonished. “You desire me?”
The idea seemed to enchant him. After a moment’s contemplation,
he sighed. “Gimli would be a bit disappointed at such a delay.”
“What delay?”
“If I remain in Gondor as long as you live to stay with you,
there will be a lengthy delay in our travels. But if we go as planned,
I will miss much of your life. I have longed for love, and it has never
come to me. Your offer is precious to me.”
Faramir brightened. “You take me seriously, then. I am overwhelmed
with delight, my dear Legolas.”
“I have hoped that Aragorn would turn to me in the Lady Arwen’s
absence, and for a time, I believe he wanted to, but her arrival in
Gondor will erase every thought of me from his memory. Her beauty is
unsurpassed.”
“I do not doubt she is beautiful,” Faramir accorded, “But
no beauty can equal your own, my fine elf.”
Legolas smiled at him. “Your sweet words turn my head, Faramir.”
“I will always speak them to my beloved.” Faramir took
his hand and kissed it. “To you, if you will but accept this designation.”
“You would be happy with me, knowing that my love was for Aragorn
and not for you?”
“I would,” Faramir gazed at him steadily as he held the
hand delicately and began to kiss the fingertips. “I hope that
you can love me in time.”
Legolas watched him in fascination. “I do not think it would
take much time You are very gentle and caring.”
“I will give you anything if you will be mine.”
The elf’s wide blue eyes warmed as his hand rose to touch the
steward’s scruffy cheek. “You are very handsome,”
he said softly. “Give me time to think, and I will speak with
you again.”
Faramir nodded gallantly and released him. “I await your decision.”
Legolas left the garden without looking back.
He found Aragorn sitting alone in the throne room of the castle and
observed him quietly for a few minutes before approaching. The king’s
eyes were sad, which made Legolas suspect the lady had not come to Gondor.
His heart raced as he knelt at Aragorn’s feet, placing his folded
arms on his knees. “Are you well?” he asked.
Aragorn smiled affectionately at him, stretched out a hand to touch
his blond hair. “I am well,” he assured him.
“What of the Lady Arwen? Is she coming?”
“She will come. She may not come today or tomorrow, maybe not
even in this year, but I will wait as long as I must. She will come.”
Legolas nodded with a silent sigh. “I believe she will.”
Aragorn stared off into the distance. “She will come, and when
she is here, I will become her husband, and she my queen.”
“You love her enough to wait as long as it takes,” Legolas
said.
“Yes, I love her, no matter how long the wait.”
Legolas closed his eyes and pressed his lips tightly against his king’s
knee “She is beautiful,” he said. “And a very lucky
elf. I wish you both well ” He stood to leave, but was stopped
in his tracks by Aragorn’s next words.
“Do not think I have overlooked your love, my friend. And do
not think it is unappreciated. I love you more than words can tell,
but I cannot love you this way as long as Arwen exists in my life. I
am sorry.”
Without turning around, Legolas nodded, blinking back the tears as
he left the room. He proceeded to the bedroom he shared with Gimli to
weep until the dwarf arrived and comforted him.
“What foul thing troubles my poor elf so?” asked the dwarf,
as he held Legolas tightly in his arms.
“Oh, Gimli,” Legolas pressed his face into his friend’s
shoulder and took solace in his embrace. “I am sorry. Please do
not question me. I need your strength now.”
“You have whatever you need from me, my dear,” Gimli said
softly. His fingers moved lightly through the long, Sindarin hair. “For
as long as I live, I will be strong for my lovely elf.”
They were silent except for the muffled sobs. An hour passed, and Gimli
became aware that his friend had become still. Without a word, he pulled
the quilts over them and closed his eyes without loosening their embrace.
As he lay back on the pillows, Legolas’ fair head was cushioned
on his shoulder. The dwarf sighed blissfully.
Gimli loved him and, more than anything, wanted this elf for his own.
He wished he knew what had caused his tears.
He wished he had the courage to tell him how much he loved him.
Opening his brilliant blue eyes, Legolas lay in the soft morning glow,
relaxing in the arms of his best friend. Gimli was such a sweet dwarf.
He hoped he would be able to return the favour although he did not wish
to ever see Gimli suffer anguish that would require such a gesture.
His own heart was breaking.
Legolas rose carefully to prevent waking Gimli and slipped out of the
room. He wandered the gardens for a time, deep in thought. Calming his
troubled spirit was not easily accomplished, but finally, he deemed
himself ready to face the king. He went searching for Aragorn.
The handsome king was sharpening his sword as Legolas entered his personal
quarters. The blue-grey eyes rose to meet the elf’s crystal blue
gaze. “Legolas,” he greeted, “I was hoping you would
come.”
Legolas steeled himself for their conversation. “What do you
have to say to me?” he asked in his most noncommittal tone.
“I have heard that Elrond is within a day’s ride of here,
and that Arwen is with him,” Aragorn began. He approached the
elf and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I hope that you will be
my groomsman at my wedding, my friend. I hope you will not allow this
strange mutual appeal we share to cloud your judgment or keep you from
participating in the most important day of my life ”
With a forced smile, Legolas shook his head. “Nothing will keep
me from your side on this day,” he promised. “I will be
there for you, Aragorn.”
Aragorn paused a moment to gaze fondly upon him, idly caressing his
fair cheek. The moment was bittersweet. Legolas’ lower lip trembled
as he closed his eyes and tipped his face into the touch.
When the king withdrew his hand, he cleared his throat. “I hope
that you will dress in Elven blue, and wear your diadem. I will have
artists on hand to apply enhancers to your lovely eyes and lips.”
“Why make me beautiful when I am not the object of your desire?
Arwen would reap greater benefits from this practice.”
“Legolas, do this for me. I want the whole of Gondor to see you
and Arwen, and to be in awe of your Elven beauty. You are both treasures
that I love.”
Legolas bowed to him. “And my love for you is greater, still,
Aragorn,” he said lowly. “I will do your bidding.”
Faramir watched the arrival of the coach, shielding his eyes against
the setting sun. The beautiful Arwen stepped down after her father,
Elrond. The two elves were greeted and embraced by Aragorn, who took
them inside.
The sight of Legolas made the son of Denethor smile to himself. He
made his way across the grounds to stand beside the blond, noticing
with sympathy that his eyes were forlorn. Faramir touched his arm to
gain his attention.
Legolas turned towards him and smiled readily. “Good evening,
my Lord Steward,” he said.
Faramir was warmed by his smile. “Would you join me in a cup
of tea?” he invited.
As they walked together, the steward wrapped an arm around his slender
back. “There will be a ceremony soon, in which I am required to
act as the king’s groomsman,” Legolas said.
“I will be sure to hire artists to illustrate this blessed event
forever,” Faramir presented. “I especially want a well-painted
portrait of you,” He gave him a light squeeze. “To hang
in my bedroom.”
Legolas leaned into him as they walked. “You are very kind. Such
a portrait may be successful in driving away rodents, but would do little
for the décor.”
Faramir laughed at his humour. “You know better, Legolas. You
are most beautiful.”
“That,” Legolas retorted, “Is the pot calling the
kettle black, my beautiful Faramir.” They shared a laugh.
Gimli, who had been talking with the hobbits, glanced around to see
where Legolas had gone. When he saw him enter the castle with Faramir,
he frowned in resentment.
“Have you given any thought to my offer?” Faramir asked
as he set the teapot on the tiny table between them.
Legolas refrained from biting his lip as he reached for the honey and
wafers “Yes, I have. I do not know if I am fully ready to be held
accountable since my poor heart is broken,” he said, finally daring
to meet the eyes of the steward. After an almost imperceptible tremble
of his lower lip, his voice gained strength. “I can think of no
reason why I should not accept your generous offer. You are kind, caring,
charming and lovely. I can only hope you find me worthy of your love.”
Faramir smiled in relief and happiness. Rising to his feet, he circled
the small table and took the elf in his arms. “My Legolas!”
he said passionately as he claimed him with a kiss. “You will
never regret this decision, I swear it!” A second kiss lingered
until they were starved for air. When they drew apart to share another
look, their desire was palpable.
Legolas next smile for him was without restraint. “I am yours,
my Faramir,” he committed. “What do you ask of me?”
“Only to love me and remain with me.” Faramir’s kisses
were soft on his Elven face.
“You do not wish to take pleasures with me?”
With an amused grin, the steward kissed his lips again. “Only
with your consent, and only if you enjoy it. I look forward to this
part of our relationship. Having you will be my first and only familiarity
in being with one of my own gender. Until you, I never felt the attraction
before. I realize you were taken with Aragorn, but have you been with
him? Are you as much a virgin as I?”
Legolas’ eyes were gentle. “I now wish I had saved myself
for you,” he said “You would be a most wonderful first for
a virgin.” He kissed Faramir lightly and carefully bumped foreheads
with him. “But I have been with others. Not many, and sadly, never
with Aragorn. I have only been with elves, but I trust the particulars
are not too dissimilar.”
“If so, then we will enjoy learning new things together. If not,
I hope you will share your knowledge with me.” Faramir said diplomatically
as he lifted the elf’s hand and kissed it.
“Would you like to begin now?”
Faramir traced the seam up his companion’s sleeve, over his shoulder
and onto his lovely, chiselled jaw line. Moving in, he kissed him there,
then on the lips again. “If this is what you desire.”
“The longer I look upon your fair face, the more intensely I
desire you,” Legolas said fervently.
“Then I will show you the way into my bedchambers.” Faramir
led the way. Their tea was left untouched.
When they were undressed, Faramir took him in his arms and hugged him
tightly, savouring the feel of the elf’s naked body against his
own. He was intrigued by the smooth, hairless flesh. As they sat on
the bed and gazed upon one another, he found that Legolas was just as
fascinated by his own lightly hairy body. His eyes dropped to the elf’s
genitals and saw that his maleness was smaller than his own, the sac
very tight and smooth.
“Are all male elves built this way?” Faramir asked, hesitantly
touching him.
Legolas’ tentative fingers also touched Faramir. “Yes,”
he answered, in awe “Are all men built this way?”
“To my knowledge, yes.” Faramir answered. “Did you
spend much time with my brother Boromir, or with Aragorn or Gandalf
on your journey? Did you not see them unclothed during that time?”
“Not without their clothes, no.” Legolas’ eyes were
round as he studied the man. “I have only seen elves,” His
hand circled the man’s length and slowly began to stroke it.
Faramir took a deep breath and threw back his head at the pleasure.
“My Legolas,” he whispered. His hand groped clumsily until
it surrounded the elf’s hard organ. “That is wonderful.”
Legolas kissed him. “Let me pleasure you first,” he said.
When the steward laid back, the elf descended on him with his mouth.
The wide stretch made his jaws ache, but he continued until Faramir
was writhing and moaning on the bed. The hot spurt of the man’s
juices made him withdraw a bit, but he did not rise until he had sucked
and licked every drop from him. When he sat up, he viewed his new lover
basking in his aftermath and smiled at him affectionately. Sitting placidly
beside him, he reflected and came to the realization that loving this
man would be no hardship. He ran soft hands up and down the length of
his thighs until Faramir recovered his composure.
“And now, my dear Legolas, it is your turn,” he said, the
glint in his eyes almost feral with intent. He pushed Legolas flat on
his back and climbed above him for his amorous attack. He began at his
chest and worked his way down the hairless body, soon sucking him in.
His first taste of male Elven flesh did not cause him to retch, but
in fact, made his eyes grow wide with delight. He took in the length
hungrily and sucked harder.
Legolas arched upwards, reaching down to cup his head as he cried out.
The shout baffled the steward, and brought him up in concern. “Are
you all right? Did I hurt you?”
Legolas laughed. “No, my love, you did not hurt me. It feels
good. Please do not stop.”
Faramir bent to go on when he realized that his mate was simply a very
demonstrative lover. Nothing could have made the man happier. The elf
whimpered, squirmed and jerked until gushes of his salty seed rewarded
the steward’s efforts. Faramir instinctively closed his throat
so he would not gag, and when it was over, he swallowed with a loud
gulp. “Very sweet, my love,” he murmured.
Legolas reached for him and hugged him as he cuddled beside him. “You
are gifted, my beloved,” he said. “Most do not fare well
their first time.”
“Perhaps because I love you so much.” Faramir said.
After a long, lingering kiss, Legolas answered, “And I love you,
also.”
Gimli watched for Legolas’ return until the following morning.
Finally, beginning to fret, he strode to the steward’s door and
knocked loudly. After a brief pause, Faramir opened the door and smiled
a greeting at the scowling dwarf. “Gimli!” he said, “What
can I do for you, my friend?”
“You can tell me where my elf is!” Gimli growled. “And
why he spent the night here with you!”
Faramir looked puzzled. “I did not detain him against his will,”
he said.
Gimli pushed past him and paced into the room to confront Legolas,
who was lounging in a dainty nightshirt and stockings on a long couch
in front of the fireplace. “You could have let a dwarf know your
plans! I worried all night!”
Legolas sat up and frowned in apprehension. “I’m sorry,
Gimli. I did not think about you worrying. Forgive me.” He leaned
forward to take his friend by the hands.
Gimli’s eyes scrutinized him. “And why are you so nearly
naked in the presence of Gondor’s steward?” he asked accusingly.
“Gimli, please,” Faramir interrupted, laying a hand on
their guest’s shoulder. “Give us time to explain.”
“Then explain if you can!” Gimli was clearly angry.
Legolas was upset by his mood. “Gimli, I beg that you listen
to reason. As my dearest friend, you cannot begrudge me love in my life.”
“Love, Legolas? You think this man will love you?”
Faramir nodded at him emphatically. “I do love him, very much,
Gimli.”
“No one gives you love without an ulterior motive,” Gimli
said.
“I assure you, there is no motivation but love here.” Faramir
said. “What could I possibly gain by pretending to love him?”
The dwarf studied him for a moment, puffing with fury, then calmed
himself into resignation. “None, I suppose,” he agreed,
turning sadly away. “I wish you both the best. Legolas, I will
stay in Gondor until after the wedding. I hope you still see me as your
friend.”
“Always, Gimli,” Legolas said, reaching to hug him tightly.
The dwarf’s arms closed possessively around him. “You’ll
always be my friend.”
When Gimli pulled back, he turned abruptly and left, saying no more.
The wedding did not take place as planned. Aragorn watched with tearful
eyes as his favoured lady joined her father in their journey to the
Grey Havens along with many other elves. When they were gone, the king
of Gondor secluded himself for a while, and when he came forth, it was
with a face grim of expectations.
He found Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf and the hobbits having tea and crisps
in the rock garden. With a smile of good cheer for his dear friends,
he sat with them and accepted a cup of tea. He caught the elf’s
eye with a confidential glimpse and leaned to whisper to him, “I
would see you in private if you are so inclined.”
Legolas nodded, and accompanied him to another section of the beautiful
garden, out of hearing distance from the others.
“Legolas,” the king began as they paused by a fountain.
He took his friend by the hand and lightly stroked the fingers. “You
know my heart. You know what I feel for you.”
Perceiving where the discussion was leading, Legolas closed his eyes.
“Before you say more, Aragorn, I have something to tell you,”
he said, feeling queasy. “That I have fallen in love with Faramir,
and I have vowed to remain with him. After my pledge to love him, I
learned that Gimli sought my love, but he has overcome his anguish and
is content being my friend. I hope that you and I can also be friends,
King Aragorn. I care deeply for you, and always will.”
The king stared at him in disbelief. “Faramir?”
“Yes, Faramir. He holds my heart, now. I love him very much,
and I will be true to him.”
Aragorn realized his mouth was open and clamped it shut. Nodding in
affirmation, he put on a smile and clapped the elf on the shoulder.
“Congratulations are in order, then!” he said. “My
blessings upon your house.”
Legolas bowed to him, and allowed the king’s excuses and escape
back towards the castle. When he was gone, Faramir approached from his
hiding spot nearby and asked, “He took it well.”
“Of course he took it well,” Legolas said proudly. He turned
and kissed his lover. “He is the king.”
The end? I think not… We can’t leave poor Gimli pining
away like this, can we? And to leave the poor king with no elf in his
bed? The Valar forbids! *Very slashy Elrondish lift of the eyebrows….*
