After he picked the final hardy mums Legolas smiled into the fading sunlight washing against his face. He expected his dear family home from the merry solstice fair’s fascinations within the hour. Usually Legolas attended this last treat before the sleepy earth hibernated under the snow with his lively pack, but this morning he decided he’d rather rest. Actually the devious Elf wanted to prune his late blooming rose bushes. Of course Legolas kept that news to himself. Gimli had offered his help but Legolas felt he trimmed, all right, hacked the precious canes, grafted from Elrond’s ancient roses, too severely. His darling was a master miner, a loving father, a surprisingly skilled cook and a perfect lover but he certainly wasn’t a patient gardener. In Gimli’s eyes unruly greenery needed to be conquered, not cultivated.
The eager to help Orlando could have performed the task but Legolas knew he still felt tentative about tending Legolas’ precious garden of heirloom Elven species and rare plants. Orlando adored learning about the herbs and exotic plants yet he never wanted to hurt or harm anything. Interesting that under the fierce young Haradrim exterior dwelled a vibrant soul truly intrigued by nature and living things.
Each week peeled away subtle layers of guilt or anger from Orlando’s soul. Still, Legolas discovered wretched remaining soul sick areas. Those needing the quickest resolution revolved around Orlando’s horrible Umbarian experience. Last week a huge breakthrough occurred when Orlando broke down and confessed that at times he enjoyed the deviant sexual acts. He enjoyed inflicting pain. Aii, the guilty tears had flowed. In response Legolas gently walked Orlando through the trauma and applied little touches of gentle mental balm where needed. Bless the Valar now true change flowed through the dear youth.
Legolas knew Aragorn would be well pleased with Orlando’s advancement.
There. Legolas critically examined the plucked purple, orange and golden flowers. He smiled in satisfaction. Now that was an enchanting bundle of festive last blooms. Their colorful hues would enliven the elaborate granite entryway.
After ceremoniously bidding his fading plants goodbye Legolas entered the silent kitchen and filled a tall earth-toned vase with water from the indoor pump. His merry hum graced the air. Legolas carefully arranged the cheerful mums, each bloom calling to him. Once this vase looked filled he decided to place a few blossoms beside their bed.
Legolas idly examined his collection of exotic vases. There. That green glass vase looked perfect for a few bright bedroom mums. Immediately after arranging the flowers in the graceful vase Legolas blinked and held his back. Mmm, at this seven-month point the Elf accepted that his dizzy spells weren’t going away. He ruefully patted his round belly. “All right, I hear and obey. Little one, I swear you are going to be as demanding and protective as your relentless father.”
Wait... no. Please not now. Gods. Suddenly strange warmth spiraled through the Elf’s tall body and pooled heavily in his aching groin. Legolas gasped and sank down into a chair resting before the large kitchen table. No. Aii, he hated these obnoxious attacks, especially when his Gimli wasn’t around to soothe his violent sexual demand. As the Elf shivered in frustrated lust sweat crawled across his skin. Long fingers restlessly massaged his weight. His own touch made the Elf moan in desire. Need hummed through every last cell. All right, bother, naught to do but haul himself up to bed and hope that dear Gimli returned soon.
Once Legolas felt able to move without staggering he carefully carried the large vase out to the foyer and set the weight on the low table. His other vase could wait. At this point he’d probably drop the fragile vessel. Forcing himself to not shake Legolas carefully lit the oil lamp in the front window.
No. Stop. All right, all right. How sad, Legolas could barely keep his hands off his own stiff cock. From experience he had learned self-pleasure didn’t quell his urge; instead it worsened his strident lust. The quivering Elf slowly mounted the magnificent spiral staircase built around a soaring beech tree and entered into his airy bedroom. How sad, the normally welcoming room suddenly felt too warm and close for Legolas’ flushed skin. Balcony doors. Open the doors. Legolas’ long fingers clumsily fumbled with the simple silver latch until it clicked free and allowed the cold air to stream in. His narrowed eyes gazed out at the final brilliant sunset creeping across the close mountains. Still so hot.
Clothing swiftly dropped onto the bedside chair. Instead of sliding under the covers Legolas stretched out atop the burgundy velvet bedspread and moaned in delight. Mmm, yes, his aching back relished the relaxation. How odd to feel so tired yet so sexually energized. Silly hormones. Could he allow himself to fall into a light trance? It would be better than lying here feeling sexually needy.
Good. Legolas relaxed and gradually descended into his own mind. His wanting to help fingers automatically crept up from their position on the bedspread and cradled his stiff cock. Legolas knew his hard flesh demanded attention but he couldn’t see the problem due to his round belly. Bah, he hated feeling like a... a... fat wanton strumpet!
The Elf smiled at his ridiculous word choice and drifted into stillness.
Orlando balanced his packages on one arm before he swung open the elaborate bronze gate barring the drive leading into the farm. A few wandering goats warily grumbled at him before returning to their grass munching. Ha, the poor animals probably remembered his first hilarious attempts at milking them. Now the young Haradrim felt quite proud of his milking skills. He had no use for such a homey skill but just accomplishing the act made him feel oddly happy.
When Gimli expressed his concern over not returning sooner Orlando volunteered to leave early and escort the exotic herb breads and the mammoth tomato, onion and rosemary cheese tart safely home. The tart alone must weigh ten pounds! Gimli declared that he wasn’t going to cook tonight, not after enduring a long lively fair day. The only reason the exhausted Dwarf didn’t return home sooner was due to the high excitement over an Elven trio slated to sing a sunset Solstice salute. His half-Elven children wanted to remain for such a seldom-heard treat.
Orlando deemed the rustic fair enjoyable but many of the attractions held more interest for country folk learned in the ways of the earth. He hated admitting it but he also felt worn out from being dragged around by Elenath and Durin, his friends’ lively twin teenage sons. They had adopted Orlando as their brother. In truth it was lovely to jest and tease with such innocent, sweet boys. They almost matched Orlando in physical age but not in mental age or physical development. Not at all.
Yes, his adopted family proved completely fascinating in many different fashions. In reality Orlando was far younger than the three eldest daughters. Fair Oin recently turned 41 but she still lived at home although she was being courted by a cocky young Dwarf. In typical protective father fashion Gimli detested, as he dubbed him, “the smug, obnoxious young braggart.” Red-maned Glenda was 34 and displayed no interest other than researching exotic gems in the caves over where the decaying Helm’s Deep dwelled. Leticia was seven years Orlando’s senior and lively as a young filly. Solemn shy Fern, she so aptly named, had just turned 23. Orlando was only two years older than his new adopted brothers. In real-age truth the only true child was Glórinda, the ten year old.
But unlike humans these fascinating children matured far more slowly. When he first heard their ages Orlando truly felt puzzled at them being called “children” but after living with them he completely understood. They all acted so innocent. Through sheer force of love their devoted parents had somehow banned serious stress or hardship from every facet of their lives.
At first the Haradrim envied their gloriously protected lives. Now he felt surrounded by the same comfort and love. A real family embraced his happy soul.
Hmm, only one lone light glowed in the stern stone front foyer. Orlando entered and smiled upon seeing the brilliant fall mums resting near the low burning oil lamp. So sly Legolas had worked outside today. Gimli quietly confided to Orlando that he knew his Legolas wanted time alone to work in the garden without everyone urging him to rest. Knowing not to over fuss Gimli graciously decided to give in.
The pair’s loving game provided Orlando endless amusement.
But where was Legolas? Was he napping? Judging from the dense silence that seemed to be the case. Orlando knew Gimli had sent him home to monitor Legolas so he should at least peek in on his friend. After placing the treats on the kitchen table Orlando quietly mounted the beyond beautiful hand-carved staircase and approached the main bedroom. Hmm, a cold breeze swept down the hall. When Orlando reached the open door he peered in and almost yelped. By the Burning Sands! Orlando’s shocked stare beheld the naked Legolas sprawled atop of the dark bedspread. Even as the Elf slept his long fingers securely gripped his excited cock. What a splendid sight! Orlando shook his head in wonderment. Enough. Now stop gawking and walk away.
But wait. Something seemed amiss. Orlando quietly stepped into the cold room and examined his friend’s elegant body. Hold, why did Legolas’ normally pale skin appear so flushed and damp? Was he ill? As he tamped down his lust Orlando hastened over and gently touched the Elf’s wet hot shoulder. No, Legolas never felt hot! What was wrong with him? The Haradrim urgently shook the Elf’s sweaty shoulder. “Legolas? Are you well? Legolas, please talk to me.”
Feeling the fleshy pressure against his shoulder Legolas twitched, inhaled deeply… no. Not his earthy Gimli. Human scent. Exotic. Sharp and deliciously young. No. Orlando. The Elf’s wide eyes flashed open and viewed the beautiful young Haradrim touching his needy flesh.
A stunned Orlando gazed into those exquisite sapphire eyes and saw nothing but endless burning desire. He thought he had never seen anything so potent. Not even his precious Aragorn ever looked so consumed with total insane lust.
No. Instead of giving into his rampant desire Legolas scuttled back and hissed in frustration. “Orlando. Leave me be. I… need Gimli. I… no. Get away from me. You can’t help me. I…” Wait, look at the lovely youth. So sweet. So young. So perfect. Look, yes, so wanting him. Despite his immortal mental resolve Legolas reached demanding hands out and swiftly slammed Orlando against his yearning body.
The Haradrim gasped in shock, surprise, desire and let his lips adhere to the magnificent Elf’s ripe softness. He succumbed to the sensation of being attacked by a pregnant Elf. Any urge to flee fell away. His fingers reached out and caressed Legolas’ hot silken skin.
Just as quickly a startled Orlando found himself sprawled on the fluffy emerald-hued carpet. What? What happened here? The youth stared up in mute confusion.
Legolas pressed his back against the carved headboard and hissed again. His entire body quivered in supreme effort. One hand clutched his round belly. No! He would not do this to poor Orlando! “Orlando, leave me! Go! This is wrong for both of us! My hormones now rule my senses so… there is nothing you can do for me.”
The almost overcome with lust Orlando shook his head and rose to his knees. He scrambled back, hauled himself to his feet and shivered. “But…”
“Leave the house. Go. Now! I must wait for Gimli.”
Blindly obeying Orlando turned and almost fell down the curving staircase. Once he reached the back door he ran until he entered the dark barn. His panting breath ripped from his lungs, he smelling the animal’s secure warmth. A cow nervously stamped and released a snort.
What had just happened in there? Even as he shut his eyes Orlando feared that the image of Legolas’ simmering lust would remain with him for an extremely long time. Perhaps forever.
A tense hour passed. The restless Orlando had already groomed the horses, the four milk cows and the two annoyed angora goats. The confused animals accepted his frantic actions. He had tidied up the haywains and now he relentlessly swept the hard packed dirt floor. The shaken youth stoutly resolved not to go near the house until Gimli returned home but he needed to keep busy. Legolas’ demanding wide eyes wouldn’t leave him alone.
“Orlando? Are ye in... oh, I see ye’ve been performing a little barn keeping. Many thanks for the effort. I do believe that’s the cleanest I’ve ever seen that old floor look.”
Thank the Burning Sands. Gimli had returned to solve this strange problem. Orlando reluctantly set aside his broom and somehow met the Dwarf’s amused gaze. The warm amusement made him feel much better.
“Laddie, it’s all right. Ye can safely return to the house now. I…” Gimli tried not to laugh but he couldn’t help it. He knew how forceful his glorious Legolas was when caught in the throes of his pregnant sexuality. An embarrassed Legolas had confessed the event after Gimli cured him as potently as possible. Despite his best effort an amused snort ripped free. “Erm, yes, Legolas is cured now so come back to the house and enjoy yer supper.”
Orlando stared down at Gimli’s face in the dim lamp glow. “I…oh Gimli, is that a common problem?”
“Aye, it was at first but we had hoped the attacks had subsided. Auch, my dear one feels beside himself with embarrassment for, erm, well, scaring ye. Luckily our children know all about the birds and the bees so there’s no problem there.” Gimli shook his head and finally gave into his gruff laughter. “Ahh, laddie, now I know ye love lucky Aragorn above all. Legolas in his raw passion is nearly impossible to resist.”
Orlando could only shake his head. He didn’t trust his voice. After he turned off the lone oil lamp Orlando followed Gimli back to the house. To Orlando’s dismay he could still see that blazing gaze searing into his own soul.
When they entered the kitchen Legolas looked up from dipping out rich dark ale from the corner cask. His face promptly blushed a brilliant pink. “Poor Orlando, are you all right? I am so sorry you... well...”
An equally embarrassed Orlando ducked his head and examined his scuffed boot tips. “I’m fine, Legolas. You are... cured?”
Legolas swallowed his playful smile. Mmm, yes, he felt far more than cured. He glanced down at the slightly preening Gimli and hugged him close. “Absolutely. Now come, quick, let us fetch some of that beautiful tart before those greedy children devour every last crumb. I know they stuffed themselves with treats all day long but they seem to have developed gaping mine shafts instead of bellies.”
“Well of course a variety of healthy appetites run in the family, my beauty.” As he held Legolas close Gimli grandly winked at the freshly embarrassed Orlando. Look at the boyo squirm! Now stop being so naughty. Gimli released more merry laughter then he leaned down and kissed his darling’s cashmere-clad belly.
Orlando finally grinned and thought for at least the hundredth time that Gimli was the luckiest Dwarf alive. And Orlando was the luckiest human alive for meeting such special friends. Imagine him feeling embarrassed about a near sexual encounter. That proved he had developed normal sensibilities! He followed his friends into the noisy dining room. Ha, wait until Orlando told his Aragorn what had happened.
Or maybe he should keep quiet.
Aragorn applied his customary informal “A” to his latest declaration of love and life. He grinned. A hastily sketched heart finished the message. Bah, he acted worse than a lovesick teen pining after his first lust. In truth the King enjoyed the sensation. It filled him with lightness.
He knew this note would truly please Orlando. Today’s meeting with Eldarion proved quite revealing. Due to Aragorn’s attack the plan to organize the special Ithilien guard unit had been put on hold until spring so Eldarion remained home. And just as dear Éowyn suspected the Prince and Elboron had truly become more than close friends. The King could only assume this event unleashed something close to regret in his son’s stubborn soul. To Aragorn’s satisfaction today a stiff-lipped Eldarion quietly confessed how wrong he had been to interfere in his Father’s life. His son solemnly promised he’d never act so rashly again. As his son spoke Aragorn knew there would be other rash acts but at least this crucial matter was finished. Still, at the strained talk’s end father and son only shook hands. Aragorn knew it would be a while before he could truly forgive his son. Love him again as a son yes, trust him, ahhh... in time.
After Aragorn dried the ink he sealed the parchment with a burgundy wax blob. Sinking back in his chair he watched the crystalline snow lash the balcony doors. His gaze then pondered the lonely bed. His frustrated stare returned to the snow decorating the bronze railings. Yes, think of cold snow. Bah, Aragorn should reach out and fetch handfuls to dampen his desire. That would surely do the trick although it might shock him into a relapse. Best not chance it.
Aragorn knew his love would return in the spring. The notion stuck in his mind. Spring would return fresh delight to his life.
Despite his vow of loving patience Aragorn had marked a date on his private mental calendar. If his Orlando hadn’t returned by then by the Valar Aragorn was riding out and begging him on bended knee to take pity on a lonely old King.
Aragorn’s gaze wandered back to the blasted empty bed then it tracked back to the balcony doors. Enough. The King amused himself by remembering Orlando’s deliciously erotic dance. Visions of sunlight tasting swarthy flesh, swaying hips and a tempting tattoo filled his vision.
Bah, wrong thing to do. All right, time for a few goblets of mead.
And perhaps a tiny handful of snow.
“May the earth nurture you and bring you fruition.” Legolas gently inserted the large striped seed into the shallow dent. His fingers carefully spread a thin layer of dirt atop.
Ahh, the last seed. Finished. Legolas rested back on his shins and rubbed his aching back. Normally he adored planting his beloved red sunflowers but today for once he felt he’d much rather plant himself in his bed. If Legolas followed his normal pregnancy schedule he would give birth in another month. He loved the idea of having his child in the flowering spring. The event sounded so right. Actually this time he merely loved the thought of finally bearing this precious child and relieving his body from the grueling pressure.
Legolas caressed his fingers over the considerable weight pushing against his green cotton work tunic. Yes, secretly the Elf thought his dear Gimli proved correct; he had borne too many children. Legolas had pushed nature and his own unique body too far. He knew this child would be their last.
“Legolas! Why didn’t you wait for me? I told you I’d help you plant today. The mill yard was crowded with what seemed like hundred of vendors! Hence we took far longer than expected to fetch our ground wheat.” Orlando hastened into the sweeping back garden and dropped to his knees next to the resting Elf. The Haradrim scoldingly shook his thick hair. “I swear since I have been living here I completely understand why you drive poor Gimli mad. You never wait for any help.”
“Well you know I don’t like to be a burden. And perhaps I like it when two loving males fuss over me.”
In reply Orlando’s accented voice shaded between sorrow and longing. “You are a wicked Elf. Now I fear I must leave dear Gimli to deal with you on his own. I thought I would remain for your babe’s arrival but I cannot stand being away from Aragorn any longer. I feel he needs me.”
Their gazes met. Legolas smiled in happy acknowledgment. “I thought I felt you preparing yourself to return to Aragorn. Yes, young one, you have lived with us long enough. As the calm days have passed I felt your ultimate true peace and self-confidence blossom within your soul. You are ready to completely open to your lover.” A chuckle followed. “Beside, I fear if you don’t return soon the poor man will eventually waste all the parchment in Minas Tirith. I can’t believe after months apart he still pens you daily notes.”
Orlando’s smile glowed. “My Aragorn claimed he would and he is indeed a man of his word. Actually he’s a clever man of many words. I fear I am not so eloquent as my lover with the written word. My darling must make do with my simple poorly scrawled “I love you’s” sent back with each daily carrier pigeon. At least I reuse his parchment.”
Legolas smiled anew. “Yes, or else we’d be reduced to writing on dried leaves. We don’t enjoy the luxurious parchment supply of a mighty King.” A thought stepped forward. Legolas steadily gazed at his young friend. “So did you tell Aragorn of your return yet?”
Breathless laugher rang from Orlando’s smiling lips. “No. Instead I want to surprise my beloved. I’ll make him so happy!”
Yes, that answer didn’t surprise Legolas. A scolding head shake answered Orlando’s merry words. This dear soul might act peaceful and contented but he also acted youthfully impulsive. Legolas hoped that endearing quality never left Orlando’s healed soul. “Orlando, come now, think about your decision carefully. It is a week’s journey back to Minas from here. When your lovesick Aragorn doesn’t receive your ‘I love you’ one day he’ll be on his horse thundering toward us. You must tell him in advance.” Legolas’ sunny smile shone free again. “And don’t even think to ask. I refuse to fake little love notes for you. Poor Gimli might take offense.”
Orlando sighed then he grinned in agreement. “You’re absolutely right but then again you often are, my wonderful Elf. All right, I shall tell my lover with tomorrow’s carrier pigeon.” As he gazed at the still smiling Legolas’ lovely features a rush of emotions flooded his soul. Orlando suddenly flung his slim arms around the surprised Elf. He buried his face in that silky fresh-scented hair and spilled his happy emotions. “Oh dear Legolas, my time here has proven sweet in a way I can hardly put into coherent words. I now understand a family’s true spirit. You showed me that a family is crafted from love and trust. Yes, now I feel like I have a special family that cares and loves me in a warm, generous way. And in my heart I view my Aragorn as part of this family so in a sense I am not leaving you. I am merely bridging us.”
Those words almost made Legolas sing in joy. Instead Legolas hugged Orlando back and chastely kissed his cheek. “Young one, you will never leave me because I love you as I love Aragorn. I hold you both safe in my soul. I love dear Arwen in the same manner. Call me fanciful but I compare such a love to the early autumn, warm, mellow and safe like a comforting haven. I love my fierce Gimli in a completely different way, yes, our love is like the potent spring, always green, alive and growing. And sometimes a little unsettled. One never knows when a lively thunderstorm might pass through.”
Orlando squeezed Legolas close then he shook his head. “You are a fanciful Elf but I love your sweet words.”
A teasing gruff voice flowed over them. “Auch, now I know why Orlando was in such a hurry to come to the garden! Planting seeds my foot! Ha, to think that ye two possess the sheer audacity to cuddle under my very nose. I feel stricken to my core.”
Orlando hugged Legolas’ heavy belly against his own waist again before he began laughing. “That’s right, Gimli. I warn you if you don’t watch out I may sneak your precious Elf back to Minas Tirith with me.”
Gimli came over and sighed in contentment tinged with sorrow. During the past months he had grown to cherish this eager to blossom youth as a true son. “Aye, young one, Legolas commented he felt ye readying to leave us. I am sure ye will make Aragorn one extremely happy laddie plus ye’ll probably make those exhausted pigeons happy too!”
“But the parchment makers will be sad since their sales will go down.”
As their merry laughter mingled in the sunny air Orlando released Legolas and stood. He brushed the dirt from his leggings. “So, what say you, Gimli, shall we leave this naughty I-need-no-help Elf to get up on his own or shall we help him?”
Gimli’s broad grin answered Orlando’s query. “Hmm, Orlando, the stubborn Elf got himself down there so...”
Legolas sputtered in annoyance and demandingly held up his slender arms. “Is that any way to treat an expectant mother? Please, am I in the company of gentlemen or cads?”
As he smirked Gimli held Legolas’ right arm and Orlando gently grasped his left. “I say we fall somewhere in the middle, right, laddie?”
“Well said, Gimli, well said.”
That evening Orlando quietly sat at the round dinner table and watched the family interaction. He would truly miss this cozy country home and its loving occupants. But his words had been true; he wasn’t leaving them. Their open affection and generous warmth would always stay with him.
Now he needed to bring his own clean affection, warmth and aching adoration back to his beloved King.
Orlando’s heart beat just a little faster. Only a few more miles to travel and he would see his Aragorn. The urge to spur his placid horse into a full out gallop careened through Orlando’s impatient body. No. Although the Haradrim’s shaky horsemanship skills had improved immensely it made no sense to fall off his horse when he had such a short way to journey. That would be utterly stupid. During the long ride he cautiously kept to the far shoulder of the busy track and let others more accomplished race past him. Of course being cautious irritated Orlando’s high sense of romantic urgency but so be it.
Ah, look, a determined rider approached from the direction of Minas Tirith. Judging from the way the rider skillfully wove among the increasing horse and foot traffic he must be a messenger making great haste. Yes, just imagine, Aragorn’s forceful words could be racing toward an important destination, to secure a treaty or grant ground for a school. As he smiled at his playful thoughts Orlando prepared to get out of the rider’s swift path but even as he guided his horse off into the grassy edge this mad rider aimed directly for him. Didn’t he see Orlando?
When yards separated them an ecstatic Orlando cried out in joy and waved his right arm. “Aragorn! Oh Aragorn!”
Cutting his dangerous speed Aragorn pulled up alongside Orlando’s waiting mount. His adoring smile washed over Orlando’s structured face. At last his beautiful young lover had finally returned to him. The meaning of restrain pummeled Aragorn; all he truly wanted to do was kiss his sweet lover until they both fell senseless to the grassy ground. Instead he opted for frivolity. “Hold now, my beautiful boy, where were you going in such alarm? I feel quite wounded for it looked as if you wanted to flee from me.”
Orlando widened his adoring eyes. “Ah, in truth I fled from a thundering madman who looked intent on running me down.”
“Ho now, you impenitent Haradrim, is that any way to describe your King?”
A husky edge brushed against Orlando’s accented voice. He couldn’t believe how much he loved this proud handsome man. The emotion nearly squeezed his heart in two. “It’s how I describe my mighty lover. My dearest Aragorn... I...” Orlando shook his head and continued smiling until he thought his lips might never cease the happy expression.
“I am glad I caught up with you here. Come, my lover, turn that sorry excuse for a mount around and follow me.”
“But where...”
“Wait, better yet... oh bother, dismount and come ride with me. We’ll enjoy greater speed.”
“But...”
Aragorn ignored Orlando’s curious queries and gestured to the three guards who had hastily followed him. “Tosca, escort Orlando’s annoyingly inept horse back to the stables then go enjoy a few ales with your mates. Here’s funding for your merriment.” Aragorn tossed the surprised Tosca a silver coin. “Listen well to me; I don’t want to be followed anymore, do you understand?”
Even as Tosca caught the coin he automatically protested. “But Sire, I...”
Do not grin. Be firm. Aragorn sternly pointed back toward Minas Tirith and shook his head. “Tosca, hasten back to the palace. Now. I know you are only following my dear Queen’s heartfelt wishes but I am in good hands now. No harm will come to me. You can tell Queen Arwen that I am with Orlando. She’ll understand my protection.”
Tosca blinked and tried imagining himself telling the Queen that her royal husband was with his young lover. Never in a thousand Ages would he summon the bravery for such an act. No, he’d rather just escape to the tavern.
As he watched the casual by-play Orlando continued smiling like a happy child. Luckily his clumsy dismount didn’t alarm his patient mount. Poor beast. Carefully, there... Orlando gingerly hauled himself atop of Aragorn’s restless stallion. The snorting horse truly unnerved him. Once mere inches separated their bodies Orlando resisted the urge to hug his King’s masculine power as close as possible. Instead the Haradrim contented himself to breathe in Aragorn’s potent scent. His lover smelled like life.
When Aragorn felt satisfied his guards had obeyed him he whirled the prancing Thalion around and galloped back along the road for a mile. He suddenly directed his stallion onto a barely noticeable dirt path leading up into the verdant foothills. Birdcalls and a fresh mountain breeze became the reunited lover’s soft music. As Aragorn guided Thalion upward he felt Orlando’s strong young arms finally embrace his waist then his warm lips nuzzled his ear. “Are you stealing me away, my royal lover?”
“You’ll see. I hope you’re not too exhausted from your long journey, my boy, although after this afternoon you might need a bit of a rest.”
Orlando laughed and licked Aragorn’s ear. “I confess that seeing your beloved handsome face makes any lingering weariness totally fade into the soaring sky.”
“Ah, I see Legolas taught you something of courtly compliments.”
“Wicked man.”
“Beautiful boy.”
After they chuckled Orlando contented himself with pressing close against Aragorn’s muscular back. He slowly rubbed his cheek against his lover’s thick hair and watched the rugged landscape flow by. He felt nothing but solace and delight, nothing he usually associated with being on horseback. “So, King, have your healers treated you for wrist cramps yet?”
Aragorn sputtered then he released teasing laughter. “By the Gods I left you with those wicked-tongued wits for entirely too long. The answer is no. And I never even glanced at another man’s firm flesh. Once he returned from the quelling those northern dolts Halbarad relentlessly teased me about my epic faithfulness. I think he likes you now. However I thought I might develop writer’s cramp from penning you all those lovely notes. I must say your brief replies proved consistent.”
“I needed to say nothing more.” Orlando parted Aragorn’s hair with his nose and began slowly kissing his lover’s deliciously sweaty neck. Mmm, how he missed this sacred flesh.
This time Aragorn sounded slightly breathless. His cock definitely twitched in delight. “You tease, if you continue your wicked kissing I might not be able to keep both hands on my reins.”
More laughter danced into the hills. Both men felt completely giddy with love and desire. A new freedom beckoned to them.
The sure-footed Thalion steadily ascended the nearly hidden dirt track until they reached a narrow fissure snaking into the mountains. Orlando straightened up and gazed up at the rocky grandeur. “Oh Aragorn, this place is truly beautiful.”
“Just wait until we travel a little further in.”
When they emerged from the secretive stony gap Orlando gasped in amazed delight. They had entered a narrow valley thick with tall pale birches and riotous stands of delicate silver willows. Lively vines just showing their pastel spring finery tumbled down the rocky walls and hosted hummingbirds and determined bees. A bright sun-flecked waterfall frisked down the black rocks and merrily dove into a racing stream. Surely this place must be enchanted! “Aragorn, how lovely. It’s perfectly magical.”
What a perceptive lad. Aragorn grandly gestured over the valley. “Welcome to King’s Cleft. Faramir showed this special valley to me after my coronation. There’s a quaint legend that this magical valley is hidden to all but the Stewards and Kings of Gondor so I think you feel the proper atmosphere.” Aragorn easily leapt down and held his large hands up toward Orlando. His smile turned longing. “Come to me, my darling.”
Orlando fell off the horse directly into those strong, supportive arms. Their intense embrace turned into a bizarre swaying dance punctuated by deep wet kissing and hasty removal of clothing. Eager fingers sought naked flesh wherever they could. The lovers dropped to their knees and forcefully drank of each other’s mouths until Aragorn urgently discarded his leggings and lay back in the supportive grass. “Welcome back, my lover. Never leave me ever again. Oh I know you needed to go and now your lovely dark eyes tell me you have found a new peace in your battered soul, nay, not battered now but healed. You are healed. Legolas made you whole for me.”
“Legolas, Gimli and their entire marvelous family. They made me feel like I was part of something clean and unique. Yes, their open love and acceptance made me whole for you.”
“I thank them over and over until the end of time. Now make me whole. Come, sweet boy, make this old King feel your love again. Make this sacred mountain ring with our love.” As he spoke Aragorn spread his muscular limbs against the grass and swayed his semi-erect cock into the cool spring air. Ahh, so long, too long.
Orlando sprawled against Aragorn and continued kissing all the hard flesh he could find. “Before I left you promised to love me for weeks.”
“Yes, my beauty, and today is the delicious start. I already decided I want to escape on a sensual journey. For once in my life I want to act completely irresponsible. Yes, I want to run off with you for a blessed month without anyone else to bother us. I already spoke of this completely decadent plan to my Arwen and she granted us her loving approval. Why she endures me I do not know but I worship her wisdom. So, my dear, will you join me in my escape?”
Between kissing Aragorn’s entire face Orlando managed to breathe out words. “King, you’d have to cast me into your deepest dungeon and lock me in manacles to halt me.”
Aragorn playfully leered at his smiling beauty. “Nay, my lovely boy, I’d rather lock your long cock deep inside me.”
“Well, I do believe that is a completely irresponsible suggestion. Shall I explore such a fascinating option? Have you a special keyhole for me to enter?” As he spoke Orlando flexed his long fingers against Aragorn’s opening and swiftly slid them inside.
Aragorn arched in joy and groaned his pleasure. Loudly. At seeing his lover’s rapture Orlando thrust his fingers deeper and carefully teased his fingertips against secret flesh. Yes, the Haradrim had been well trained and now he used his sensual training without guilt.
Orlando’s persistent inner caressing forced a genuine cry of uninhabited lust from the King’s tense throat. He arched his neck and felt warm lips nurse his pulse. Teeth nipped and adored. Yes, how he needed this wild youth to brighten his life. How lovely to let someone else take control.
Once he released his lover’s flesh Orlando laughed and uttered a playful shout. As the sound echoed back at them Aragorn teasingly answered him before they merged in fresh laughter.
When Orlando fully possessed his more than eager King their delirious cries wildly echoed into the sacred heart of the watching mountains. Although almost blinded by wet lust Aragorn’s heaven-turned gaze saw a startled red hawk take wing over the far valley wall. His rolling laughter made Orlando thrust all the harder until they both succumbed to merriment and each other’s loving secure pleasure. After Orlando regained his panting breath he raised his damp face to the sky and howled, “I love you!” The words careened into the stone.
Both men shouted and laughed like energized children until they fell into a spent tangle of adoring flesh. Their sated lips licked at their mingled sweat drops. The finest wine couldn’t come close to the heady flavor spiced by sheer love.
As their years passed together Aragorn and Orlando visited their favorite site and celebrated this merry anniversary. When they cuddled close together either in the waterfall’s pulsing fury or on the grass the lovers playfully swore they still heard their original lusting echoes vibrating from the enduring stone. They thought the sound captured the enchanted music of two longing and sometimes lost souls openly becoming one with the world.
And the world accepted their offering.
---
Epilogue
Aragorn quietly entered the sun-washed bedroom and paused. Ahh, his instinctive concern proved well merited. When Orlando didn’t meet him for their garden walk after council Aragorn immediately hastened up to their bedroom. Should he wake Orlando from his rest? His lover looked so peaceful, so relaxed. Yes, when asleep none of ravages of this wretched lung ailment tormented his lover’s thin face. Only his strained breathing told of something seriously wrong.
Hmm. As he pondered Aragorn released a small sigh. Outside a fine spring day, mild and fresh, demanded to be enjoyed. The easily frustrated Orlando would feel annoyed if he slept the day away again. Yes, time to wake him.
One finger reached out and gently traced the carved groove nestled against Orlando’s age-thinned lips. “Orlando? Beloved?”
What? Orlando slowly blinked and fuzzily stared over at Aragorn’s concerned face. He inhaled a tortured breath and almost moaned in surprised pain. Ahh, today it hurt to simply breathe. Wait. Something else felt wrong. No. Oh no. Orlando blinked again and gathered his sleepy wits. “Aragorn... oh... I merely came up to rest for a few minutes and I fell asleep again. That’s such an annoying habit. I...” As he slowly rose away from the supportive pillows Orlando raked his tangled white hair away from his swarthy face. Old. Today he felt so wretchedly old and stretched thin. Something wasn’t right.
After resting on the bed’s edge Aragorn gently pushed his lover’s frail body back to the pillows. He trailed his fingers through the still wavy mane. “There’s no need to rise, my darling. If you need to sleep you...”
Instead of cooperating Orlando stubbornly sat back up and frowned in supreme petulance. “Lover, I don’t need to sleep. I sleep too much as it is. I don’t want to waste my last precious days with you sleeping all the time like some ridiculous old man.”
A sad pain shot through Aragorn’s heavy heart and skewered a few beats. Over the years he had learned to swiftly monitor such an event. Bah, today the King knew the pain was emotional, not physical. After he calmed his heart down Aragorn’s large hand gently cupped Orlando’s bony chin. “Orlando, don’t speak such utter nonsense. You still have plenty of sweet years left with me, my perfect beauty, yes, long loving years.”
Trust his dear Aragorn to offer him such positive words. But the words hid the final truth. Orlando blinked in profound pain and released his dismal thoughts. “Beauty? By the Burning Sands your royal eyesight proves sadly compromised. You impossibly handsome man, I swear you gave me all your dreadful wrinkles. I knew I’d be the one to age far more quickly than you but this awful reality... I hate being old, my lover. I hate feeling my remaining strength creep away from my body. I hate this bleak foulness destroying my very lungs. I hate not being able to make love.” As he pulled free from Aragorn’s gentle grasp Orlando harshly choked on his words. “I hate when you look at me with such loving pity.”
In the silence Aragorn stared over at Orlando’s averted face and sighed in patient love. Since his dear Orlando had turned 80 these dismal moods had become all too common. His grave sickness intensified them even further. “My lover, come now, I never look at you with pity. I only look at you with utter love and adoration. What has gotten into you today? Are you feeling worse? You promised me that if you felt...”
A small hard voice emerged from the thick white hair’s protective flow. “No, nanny, I am not worse today. Stop constantly badgering me. Yes, let’s add I hate being badgered all the time to my long list of things I hate.” No, not worse. Dying didn’t count as worse, did it? Dying counted as freedom from the constant pain. Freedom from... poor Aragorn’s loving suffering. Aragorn didn’t deserve the daily stress Orlando offered him. Ah, it had been a good life.
Had Aragorn badgered his lover? Bah. Sometimes nothing except walking away solved these sad moods but this one seemed especially bitter. Why? Aragorn released another patient sigh and apologized. “I am truly sorry, my lover, for annoying you. Do you want me to leave you alone?”
Alone? No. Never. Never! Aragorn’s quiet words made Orlando gasp and sit up again. His hands reached out and desperately pulled Aragorn’s face close for a long kiss. Orlando held their kiss until he couldn’t breathe. After controlling another gasping attack he drew back and brought up a strained smile. “No, my darling, never leave me alone. I... forgive me for acting so querulous. How can you stand being near such a cranky old man?”
“You merely want to hear me declare I love you all the time.”
“Hearing those words heals me over and over.” As he filled his longing stare with his lover’s angular face Orlando cocked his head. “Are Legolas and Gimli arriving soon?”
Aragorn tried for lightness. “Yes, our friends’ delightful bickering should grace us within a day or two.”
Orlando’s gaze captured a fresh sharpness. “Tell me again why they are coming to visit.”
The odd question took Aragorn by total surprise. “They are merely coming to visit everyone, that’s all. You know our lively pair hasn’t graced Minas Tirith in over three years because of their eldest daughter’s serious illness and Gimli’s... erm, last attack.” How odd that the seemingly unconquerable Gimli now suffered from a heart problem similar to Aragorn’s. Bah, both acted too passionate and stubborn for their own good. Both were also gradually succumbing to age’s relentless decay. No. Don’t think such things.
Attack. Yes, an attack of time’s final menace. Time always gained the upper hand over everything. Another little smile appeared before Orlando slowly shook his head. His long hair trailed against his hunched shoulders. “Oh for shame, Aragorn, after all these years you think you can fool me with reassurances? I know dear Legolas visits because he knows my days on Middle Earth are swiftly drawing to a close. Our special Elf holds a link to my very soul. He knows me all too well and he knows I am finished.”
No. Aragorn swiftly shook his gray streaked mane. He wanted no talk of death. He would not tolerate such negative talk. “Orlando, why you do you insist on...”
His lover’s quiet voice sliced into his heated words. “My beloved, why do you insist on denying the facts?”
A long silence built between the lovers. Aragorn hung his head and moaned in grieving pain. “Because I dread the thought of losing you, my wild Haradrim. I dread waking up and not feeling your slim beauty resting against me. I dread facing life without you by my side. It’s not right. I am 192 yet... I am still hale. By the Valar I wish I could give you my royal vitality so you could spend many more years enjoying Middle Earth with me. So please, my lover, do not speak of facts and reality. I deny reality. I selfishly deny all. I only know I still love you as much as I ever have.”
“Your eloquent words always bring me joy. Yes, ha, see, I’ve managed to keep you amused for many a year now. I never dreamed of such a sweeping accomplishment. And Aragorn, you know how I love you. I...” Suddenly Orlando’s lungs seized up and left him gasping on his words. No. Hold. After a massive effort he forced out more words. “But as usual, my King, you are correct... bah, I feel as if I could sleep straight through the day and into the next morning. But because you and the fine day insist I shall refute such nonsense. So come, let’s walk in the gardens as planned. Take me to a quiet corner and twine fresh spring blooms in my hair. Kiss me senseless in the hedge maze. I will cease my negative talk of days to come. We have forever together.”
A heartsick Aragorn nodded and lovingly helped Orlando from the piled pillows.
After a brief careful stroll through the glorious spring finery Orlando caught his breath and looked away from Aragorn’s watchful gaze. Something serious happened deep inside his body. “My beloved, can we go sit on our bench and watch the clouds soar past? I certainly don’t want to tire you out.”
A lopsided smile captured Aragorn’s lips. “So you say, young one. Yes, let’s rest and watch the world pass by.”
Once they settled onto the marble bench tucked deeply into an alcove of stately yews Orlando cuddled close against his King’s still powerful body. Odd to feel this weak and yet he knew nothing could be done for him. Orlando suddenly felt as if his body decided to turn off his life. Indeed, today his time had come. “Lover, tell me the tale of Helm’s Deep again. I love hearing about Gimli and Legolas’ battle competition.”
“Of course I’ll tell you.” Before he began Aragorn stared into Orlando’s wide dark eyes and somehow smiled. Gods no, something dire lurked within that still impossibly luminous gaze. A sudden fear assailed the King’s soul. “Hold, my beauty, before I tell any tales I need a sweet kiss from you.”
Orlando’s lips twitched in amusement. “Just one? Are you that tired?”
“Ahh, perhaps a few more.” Their lips met with the slow sweet passion of long familiarity until Orlando broke free and desperately gasped for breath again.
“Orlando...”
“My precious King, because you love me you are going to tell me my favorite story.” Orlando returned to his comfortable cuddle and gazed out at the high clouds towering against the mountains. They promised an evening storm. Ahhh... a sudden shadow infected his vision. Summoning up his final breaths Orlando managed to sound normal for his lover’s sake. His Aragorn. His King. His life. “Please tell me the story. Hold me close and tell me. Leave nothing out and don’t stop before you reach the end. Promise this to me. You will tell me the tale to the final end.” Something vital abruptly ceased working. It didn’t matter.
The King’s normally commanding voice rasped in profound fear. “I promise because I love you, my wild Haradrim.”
“I know. Forever, correct? Our love is forever.” Orlando slowly sunk back and shut his eyes. It was time. A wretched pain clenched his faltering lungs. His dimming eyes slid open one last time and gazed at his lover’s glorious face. What a perfect last sight. He managed a smile. Forever.
Orlando’s eyelids slowly fluttered shut.
Aragorn held Orlando’s relaxed body close and murmured out his story. As he spoke he kept his staring eyes fixed on the mounting clouds. They looked magnificent stroked by the defiant sun’s strong rays. When Orlando’s head dropped heavily against his shoulder Aragorn’s husky voice trembled in anguish but he continued speaking. He would finish his story for his beloved. He had promised.
After the King finished speaking he sat in numb silence and gently stroked Orlando’s long hair. Be at peace, dear one. Be at peace. Then he gathered his frail lover into his shaking arms and determinedly walked back to the palace. Aragorn chose his initial steps carefully since he couldn’t see past his tears.
When Aragorn reached the garden’s blooming center guards rushed up to help their King with his startling burden. Aragorn hissed at them in stern warning. This was his duty alone.
A looming cloud finally shadowed the spring sun’s rays.
Legolas suddenly looked up from tucking his water flask back into his saddle pack and stiffened in shock. A gasp ripped from his full lips. “Aii, no. Please by the Valar no. I...” A definite chill slid down his long spine before a spiritual thread unwound and effortlessly floated into the sunny heavens. No. Orlando was gone. Stinging tears filled the Elf’s bright ageless eyes. No, why today? Gods, Legolas thought they had two more days. Never had his timing been so wrong.
Sensing the abrupt change in his lover’s mood Gimli halted securing their supplies and hastened around their horse. He gazed up at his mate’s lovely face and frowned in total distress. A little moan escaped his lips. No. The Dwarf’s age-twisted fingers anxiously gripped Legolas’ long smooth fingers. “Auch no. Oh my precious Elf, is our laddie already gone to us?”
“He is, my dear heart. Poor Aragorn. I... thought we would make it in time to be there for him. I... failed. I...” A soft sob escaped Legolas’ lips. Leaning down Legolas desperately embraced the teary Gimli close. His own ravenous fear of losing his beloved clawed frantically at his heart. He knew they had many more years together but... still... aii...
Sometimes being immortal proved a terrible burden.
That evening Aragorn sat in the dim bedroom silently holding Orlando’s cold hand. He couldn’t bring himself to let go. After he entered this room the King ordered everyone to leave him alone. He just wanted to sit a little longer and listen to the spring rainstorm that had swept in from the mountains. The wetness spattered steadily against the closed balcony doors.
Aragorn frowned at the rain-flecked doors. He should have opened them one last time for his lover. Orlando adored rain’s intriguing aroma since growing up in the desert seldom offered him such sensations. Yet right now rising and performing the simple task proved beyond Aragorn’s abilities.
Of course someone wiser than the King now ignored his terse orders. A loving touch suddenly caressed his slumped shoulders. “Aragorn. Dear Aragorn. Dear Orlando. Never my rival but always a loving friend.” Arwen leaned down and kissed her husband’s tear-damp cheek then she gently touched Orlando’s immobile cheek. She slowly sat on the bed’s edge next to her husband and shared his deep grief. It felt like the taste of ashes. Such a cruel emotion. It never should have been invented but ah, wait, it was needed in order to survive.
As she spoke the Queen absently ran her fingertips over Aragorn’s tense back. She wanted to reassure herself that he still remained with her. “We have lost so many. I have lost my Father, my grandparents and even dear Frodo to immortality. I lost my brothers to their stubborn determination. Together we have lost Faramir, Halbarad, Éomer and brave Éowyn. We have lost our three brave Hobbit friends. Lately I feel that all I do is wait to lose pieces of my heart.” Her low voice cracked in fearful sorrow. “My King, when I lose you I will have truly lost my entire heart to the waiting ages.”
His wife’s sad words brought fresh tears to Aragorn’s aching eyes. “For your sake, my fair Evenstar, I pray I can last for many more years. Middle Earth needs true grace such as yours and to lose you would be a cruel blow. Your endless love constantly amazes me.”
“Ah, today you have suffered a cruel blow. My husband, can I confess that when I realized you truly loved Orlando I wanted to hate him? How unworthy of my soul. So long ago... but then I realized his unrestrained love made you so happy. I also realized the love we shared with each other had rooted so beyond the physical that I could share you.” Arwen’s fingers halted stroking and clutched Aragorn’s tunic. “Oh Aragorn, I feared this grim day so much because I wasn’t positive you would survive Orlando’s passing.”
“As did I but I can accept, well, not accept, never that, but survive the parting. I can endure because I still have you, my sweet wife, our shining children and Legolas and Gimli as a foundation for continuing. I still possess blessed wonder and love that I truly hold sacred. But yes, since you speak of hearts I admit the part not held here by you and my children departed with this fair Haradrim. A bright spark has left my soul.”
“I understand, my husband. You loved Orlando well. We all grew to love him because he loved you so well in return. May the Valar bless him and you. Although we do not travel to those fair lands across the Sea I feel we will be together in some other manner.”
Aragorn’s wavering gaze examined Orlando’s at peace features. In Aragorn’s loving eyes Orlando truly was still his beautiful young Haradrim. “Arwen, I like your lovely fantasy. Indeed, we shall be young and endlessly bold, ready to meet any and all challenges cast in our path. We shall always triumph. Yes, I agree with you, my dear. We’ll face eternity together and make it our home.” After a silence Aragorn reluctantly released Orlando’s slim hand. The King gently folded his lover’s thin arm across the unmoving narrow chest. “Until we meet again, Orlando Elessar. You best wait for me. Yes, wait for us so we can enjoy forever.” He leaned close and kissed his lover’s cool lips one last time.
Arwen’s teary eyes widened in surprise. So their No Name had found a name. It fit him. She felt glad Aragorn had shared such with her.
Turning away from Orlando’s stillness the King uttered a choked sob and released his final sorrow in Arwen’s comforting arms. Her gentle Elven murmurs soothed his burning grief. Yes, until they all met again in a far off enduring spring.
They had often laughed and talked of loving forever. Aragorn prayed the innocent concept proved true.
It had to be. The King deserved nothing less than eternal love.
THE END