“My King! The Queen asks for your attendance.”
Aragorn looked up from caressing his lover’s dark mane. Orlando’s fingers anxiously fluttered against his naked chest like frightened butterflies. Ah, Eldarion must have finally slunk home yet the king kept that thought to himself. Raising his imperial voice to its zenith Aragorn called out. “Very well... thank you for the message.” Aragorn kissed Orlando’s slack lips. Gods, why wouldn’t he respond anymore? “My love, I fear I must leave you. Trust me, this matter will be resolved.”
A wary Orlando stared over at his lover then he merely shook his head and gazed up at the silken canopy. There was no resolution. He was ruined. He was going to be banished. Orlando might as well leap from the elegant balcony and end his life; banishment would kill him. He knew it. If he lost Aragorn’s protective love he would kill himself. Only Aragorn loved him. No one else cared.
But the suffering Haradrim would not utter those words. He would not bind dear Aragorn to him through guilt. Never.
The King bit his lower lip. Ahh, his lover’s continued lack of trust stung Aragorn. “Orlando, please look at me. Listen to me. I am not letting anyone dictate your future to me. I will not merely banish you like an unwanted stray. You must believe me. I love you too much to let that happen.” When Orlando merely shut his beautiful eyes Aragorn desperately reached over and encased his lover’s structured face between his palms. “Orlando. Please don’t keep doing this to me. Don’t doubt me so. Don’t shut me out.”
Those wide brown eyes fluttered back into awareness. Orlando gazed at Aragorn’s agonized face and saw his lover’s unconditional love shining on him. He reached up and ran his fingertips across Aragorn’s soft beard. Words. He needed to speak. Orlando was hurting Aragorn. Yes, he must be a monster like his demon Father to hurt such a loving man. “I do not doubt you, my love, yet I fear the realm’s fury. Will you defy your entire realm for me?”
No hesitation tainted Aragorn’s reply. “Yes.”
A romantic thought but Orlando remembered Legolas’ hushed words. Aragorn would never forsake his sacred realm. “Now I do doubt your words.” As his heart filled with broken pain Orlando rolled away from Aragorn’s soothing touch and curled into a ball. Back to sleep. Sleep held protection. Sleep required no effort. Sleep made him nothing.
A frustrated Aragorn gently massaged Orlando’s slender shoulders. “My beauty, I’ll return to you as soon as possible and tell you how much I love you again.”
Silence. Aragorn stared at Orlando’s back. In the three days since the, as Aragorn labeled it, tragic incident Orlando refused to leave their bed. He seldom spoke and only if Aragorn initiated the conversation. After a frustrated Aragorn dropped to his knees and pleaded Orlando finally ate a few bites of sage bread. And when Aragorn kissed him he refused to respond.
The powerful King didn’t know what to do.
As he swiftly dressed Aragorn prayed that this meeting with Eldarion would solve this dismal problem. Perhaps if he could tell Orlando that the truth would never emerge all would be well. Or was he merely being a foolish optimist?
All right, enough useless speculation. Time to confront his son.
Arwen answered Aragorn’s polite knock. As she opened the door to him her cool lips lovingly kissed his cheek yet her wide blue eyes flashed in unusual anger. His wife’s annoyed look told Aragorn about Eldarion’s defiance. They had feared he’d arrive and instantly challenge them.
When he entered the elegant sitting room Aragorn saw Eldarion stiffly standing by the carved wooden fireplace. His willowy body screamed his fury; his cold eyes granted Aragorn nothing but scorn. “Hello, Father. So glad to see you could tear yourself away from your traitorous little...”
Arwen almost panicked. Before Aragorn could march over and slap his own son the Queen smartly clapped her palms together and glared at her son. Yes, even Elrond would have proudly applauded her regal bearing. “Eldarion, that’s enough childish pettiness. You will not speak to your Father in such a rude manner. We are here to talk as civilized beings so sit down and behave like my son.”
Excellent thrust. Aragorn watched Arwen’s surprise attack completely unnerve Eldarion. Their plan was already in motion. As Aragorn silently contemplated his sullen son Eldarion hesitated then he sank into a chair without further incident. Arwen’s fingers held Aragorn’s arm. She gracefully guided him to the snug velvet settee, an heirloom from her Father’s study. Ahh, a show of unity. Bless his Evenstar for being such a wonderful wife. Now the King would see how she proved as a negotiator.
Once they were seated Arwen glanced at Aragorn. “May I begin this talk, husband?”
“Please.” Aragorn sat back and let Arwen lean forward. Yes, Eldarion’s unsettled expression soured into sheer suspicion. His gentle Mother never took the lead in parental discussions. Ha, Eldarion was in for an ugly surprise.
Arwen kept her lilting voice low and neutral. Years of watching her father deal with diplomats, soldiers and powerful Elves taught her well. Her passionless tone masked her own uneasy emotions. “Eldarion, it has come to my attention that you gathered research with the intent to disgrace young Orlando. Excuse me for being blunt but I find your actions intolerant and cruel. What has that young man done to you? Has he openly insulted you? Mocked you? Threatened your powerful position as Prince of the realm?” Arwen paused and stared at her beautiful son. “What has he done to you?”
A startled Eldarion couldn’t believe what he heard from his Mother’s dear lips. “How can you ask me such a question? That filthy outsider is an insult to the family! He is a direct insult to you, Mother! How can you accept his presence?”
“How? Because Orlando means me no harm. He means my children no harm. He means your Father no harm, nay, instead he brings your Father joy.” Arwen shook her head. A true anger filled her soul. “You seem to think your Mother a fragile, easily injured little ninny. Don’t you think I know your Father has male lovers? He had them before we wed. While you were growing up he did not seek such diversions. Now... things have changed between your Father and I so I gave him leave to seek other comfort.” The look of total disbelief crossing her son’s face didn’t surprise Arwen. “Yes, son, your old parents are a little more, shall I say, sophisticated then you think. So if I can accept Orlando as your Father’s lover then I think you could do the same.”
“That sly creature is the son of a foul Sauron supporter! Did Father tell you...”
One pale slim hand abruptly halted Eldarion’s rushed words. “Son, I know Orlando’s tragic past and truth be told I pity the youth. Having all that horror thrust back in his face harmed his frail soul. I felt that damage and no one should suffer so cruelly. No one. So that is why I want matters to end here. Also consider the political impact of this disturbing news. Don’t you think that will hurt both your father and myself?”
A waiting Aragorn held his breath. This strained meeting was going precisely as planned. Arwen never, ever confronted her son let alone relentlessly pound him with sharp words. Aragorn was always the punisher. Indeed it took all his control not to reprimand his son’s callous actions and current vitriolic words.
Something felt wrong to Eldarion. Yes, he feared he had walked into a trap. He looked away from his Mother’s intense stare. For the first time the young Prince truly saw who his mother was; a determined, strong daughter of Elves. And clever, yes, so clever. After taming his fury he managed to whisper words. “So you refuse to banish the thing?”
How dare his son still ask for such a drastic measure? How dare he continue insulting his beloved? Rage nearly threw Aragorn into action. No. Calm down. Aragorn shook his head and spoke. He tried keeping his voice level but he heard the fury threading through it. “Son, Orlando has done nothing to deserve banishment. I had hoped that under my united rule a man, no matter where he came from, could create a new life without his past crushing him. I’d hate to discover that forgiving spirit no longer held true.”
Sensing that his anger would get him nowhere Eldarion changed tactics. He copied his parents and kept his voice reasonable. “But surely if his true identity was known this Haradrim would have never been allowed into the palace guards. You both must confess that he entered the guard ranks under false pretenses. If he gave his name as Orlando Bloomahir red flags would have been raised. So in my eyes fine, the Haradrim did not lie but he hid an extremely ugly truth in order to advance. Do we reward such sly behavior with a rank of honor in the guards?”
Fury tainted Aragorn’s husky voice. “Are you telling me that if Orlando remains in the guards you will reveal his identity and destroy him in the eyes of all?”
Eldarion silently gazed at his angry Father. No need for an answer.
No. Arwen firmly placed a restraining hand on Aragorn’s tense arm. She would not let this discussion dissolve into a furious argument. “Son, what you say is true. I propose a compromise. Orlando will resign from the official guard ranks but he will continue to be your Father’s... personal guard. He will no longer wear the palace uniform or be allowed to advance. Will that measure silence you?” As she spoke Arwen continued squeezing Aragorn’s arm. She felt his powerful muscles flex in unbridled rage. No, husband. Do not erupt.
In the following long silence Eldarion considered his Mother’s practical proposal. He also considered the political ramifications of the matter. Yes, now that he looked beyond his hatred they were serious. He had been stupid to force the issue. Yet even as he realized his mistake Eldarion embraced his consuming hatred of the Haradrim dog.
Very well, for now best to agree and think about the foul problem later. Beside, Eldarion’s spies had more than likely unearthed a few interesting problems for the foreign whelp. Yes, today his own Mother deflected Eldarion’s final revenge. Fine. He could step back, do nothing and wait. Revenge always trickled down and found its target.
Eldarion forced his voice to remain level. “Very well. If the Haradrim resigns his guard position I swear I shall remain silent. I do this out of respect for you, Mother, not for compassion, pity’s sake or anyone else’s sake.” After darting Aragorn one last cold stare Eldarion rose and tugged at his rough hunting garb. “Now if you’ll excuse me I am weary from my hunt.”
“Then go rest, Son.” As she tried for a peaceful conclusion Arwen held out her right hand to Eldarion. To her relief he pressed her slender hand between his own large hands and dutifully kissed her cheek. After tossing a neatly insulting bow toward the frowning Aragorn Eldarion swept from the room.
The couple sat in silence until Arwen shook her head and sadly gazed at Aragorn. “I hate to say this but I mistrust my own son. Was it my imagination or did Eldarion... give in too gracefully?”
“Oh I have no doubt that he’ll keep his silence; Eldarion is rash but he’s not stupid. He knows if he breaks his vow I’ll...” Aragorn shook his head. “Bah, he’s lucky I don’t believe in thrashing my children. But I agree, my wife; I fear Eldarion has not put this matter behind him. My son’s arrogant attitude toward me spoke volumes. He knows something.” Yes, after that ugly display Aragorn held a sickening suspicion that Orlando may well be the one to need a bodyguard.
Aragorn set the silver tray down on the small table outside his chambers and unlocked the door. He brought the tray containing a light meal into the bedroom. Gods, after eight dismal days Aragorn hoped today he’d find his precious Orlando awake and smiling at him. Even after Aragorn reverently assured him that he was not being banished nor would his past be revealed Orlando continued withdrawing into sleep. He still refused to eat anything more than mere bites; already his beard-stubbled face looked a touch gaunt. During an epic struggle Aragorn had physically forced almost a pint of soup into Orlando’s unwilling mouth but what an trying effort!
His clever lover timed his bathroom forays during Aragorn’s rare absences. Once Aragorn caught Orlando recurling into their bed but that had been it.
Aragorn’s helplessness defeated every waking moment and haunted his uneasy sleep. He just prayed that Legolas arrived soon. Only a pure powerful Elf could jar Orlando from his dismal withdrawn condition.
Beside, the web of lies and deceit Aragorn wove must cease. When Aragorn told General Bruscilous to discharge Orlando from the guards the general stared at him like he had lost his wits. Of course Bruscilous questioned why. Aragorn rudely told him to stop asking questions and write out the dismissal notice. After he had the notice Aragorn sought out Eldarion and almost shoved the parchment down his son’s throat. He refused to talk to the boy.
Now Aragorn knew the entire palace wondered why he acted like a servant to his supposedly ill bodyguard.
Madness. Halbarad was right. His love for Orlando was driving him mad.
Why had Orlando given up? Why? Why didn’t he believe in Aragorn’s unswerving love? Did he feel that Aragorn had somehow failed him because... Aragorn had no answers. Did Orlando still fear Halbarad? When the advisor came in and assured Orlando that the incident wasn’t his doing Orlando steadily ignored him. He wouldn’t even glance his way.
After enduring Orlando’s rebuff a sheepish Halbarad finally confessed to Aragorn about telling Orlando of his enemy in the royal family. That news shook Aragorn. Obviously Orlando knew the enemy wasn’t Arwen, Aragorn or the young princesses so he knew his enemy was Eldarion. He knew Eldarion’s spies had amassed the dossier. Damn, this entire disastrous incident strained so many levels of love and trust.
“Orlando? My darling, I have brought you lunch. I know how much you savor grilled salmon so I asked Chef to make it for you.”
A familiar deadly silence greeted the King.
Aragorn set the tray down and sat on the bed. He performed the same sad ritual; after caressing Orlando’s shoulders he turned his lover onto his back. Oh no. Today Orlando’s vulnerable eyelids trembled but they refused to open. His lover’s lashes must have turned to stone. He had grown worse.
Orlando felt gentle hands touch him. He felt a sweet kiss press against his lips. He wanted to respond but he couldn’t because he was nothing. If he responded he’d suck his beloved Aragorn into his nothingness. No.
Aragorn continued stroking Orlando’s shoulders. “My beloved. Please eat something for me. Please.” His husky words caught on a deep choking sob. “Why won’t you respond to me? Why?”
Nothing had no response.
As two trainees steadied his frisky horse Legolas gracefully dismounted from his perch. His long fingers gripped the reins then he rested again Elmira’s warm side. Another wretched dizzy spell rolled over his body. When would they cease? He felt like a complete idiot. Imagine a dizzy Elf. How degrading!
“Blast it, my love, why didn’t ye wait for my help?” Gimli, who had become far more accomplished at dismounting from these unreasonable beasts, slid down and anxiously embraced his mate close. Ahh, this blasted trip had been hellish! He feared Legolas’ every move might tumble him from the saddle. For some unknown reason this strange pregnancy had completely disrupted his usually gentle Elf’s personality. Legolas’ emotions were at an all-time high, his sex drive was uncontrollable and he was still clumsy. Of course when Gimli delicately suggested that perhaps Legolas was too old to be carrying babies anymore Legolas threw a wine goblet at the startled Dwarf, started crying then he dragged Gimli into bed and begged to be loved.
Yes, Gimli prayed they both survived this fertile event in one piece.
A smile touched Legolas’ lips. His fingers stroked Gimli’s gray-streaked red hair. “Gimli, I just suffered from a dizzy spell! I am fine, you protective mother hen.”
“Auch, I like that, ye calling me a mother. Yer a silly goose.” Gimli fondly patted Legolas’ rounded middle.
“Yes, and soon I’ll be a fat, waddling goose. When that happens you can worry about me. For now I am all right!”
Bergil tried not to smile. He had heard these two bicker before and their words never ceased to amuse him. Instead of reacting he bowed low. “Greetings, Legolas, Gimli. The King asked that if you’re not too tired he’d like to meet with you.”
“No, that’s fine. Please take us to Aragorn.” Legolas allowed Gimli to wrap his powerful arm around his waist. He’d never tire of his mate’s sweet protectiveness although he’d never admit it. They had too much fun arguing about the matter.
Once at Aragorn’s chambers Legolas knocked on the door. “Aragorn? We have arrived!”
As he sat up in their bed Aragorn smiled for the first time in days. Legolas and Gimli were here at last! “My love, we have visitors!” After hugging Orlando’s unresponsive body close Aragorn rose, tossed on a robe then he flung open the door. “My friends, you do not know how happy I am to see you!”
The three exchanged welcoming hugs. A faint frown marred Legolas’ pale face. “I fear we aren’t meeting in happy times. What is going on with Orlando?”
Before Aragorn could speak Gimli grimaced in displeasure. “Yes, I’d like to know some details. We receive this cryptic note urging haste. Ye telling my Legolas here to make haste is enough to drive me mad! Bah, I barely had time to dress before he hauled me out the front door! Luckily enough my sister is visiting us so she’s there to take care of our wee family.”
“Gimli, old friend, I am sorry if I caused you trouble but...here, come sit and let me tell you everything. I’ll warn you now it is not a happy tale. Indeed it’s shocking and tragic.” After they settled in Aragorn hastily sketched out the details of the trauma, he pausing for Gimli’s angered exclamations. Relating the entire tale all over again made the King feel ill. Never again. This tale ended here.
A troubled Legolas silently absorbed Aragorn’s hushed words. His long fingers protectively held his waist. How could anyone inflict such horror on an innocent child? How deathly tragic. Yes, long after Sauron’s demise monsters still walked among them and spread their corruption. Luckily there were a few Elves left to heal the spiritual damage.
When Aragorn finished Gimli shook his head in amazement. “To sit and hear Aragorn, dire enemy of Sauron, admit he loves the son of the Haradrim butcher nearly burns my eardrums. But, my friend, since I trust yer wise judgment I will say no more on that particular matter. If ye love this laddie then I also love him. So how can we help?”
Dear Gimli. Loyal to the core. Legolas ran his fingers over his mate’s thick hair. “Not so much we as I. Yes, I suspect Arwen had enough Elven power in her to bring Orlando forward but it sounds like a complete recovery proved beyond her skills. However I believe I can help him.”
As he stared at his mate Gimli instantly raised a fierce protest. There was no way he wanted Legolas in any danger. “Ye mean yer going to perform some strange Elven soul cure? Auch, Legolas, ye are four months pregnant! My love, I don’t think it wise for ye to...”
This time Legolas firmly tugged on Gimli’s braids. He would tolerate no argument. “Gimli, I believe I have noticed that I am pregnant, yes, but I am not wounded or injured. I know what I am doing. Do you think maternity has turned me feeble?”
Oh now this was an old tune Gimli hated hearing. While pregnant his Elf grew stubborn and determined not to show any weakness. “I didn’t mean that and ye know it. Still, my love, we just arrived! Shouldn’t ye at least rest before ye go curing this damaged boy?”
Hearing Gimli’s eternal protectiveness brought another slight smile to Aragorn’s lips. Their classic sparring made him feel less heartbroken. “You two haven’t changed at all and bless Elbereth for that magic. Truly, Legolas, if you need to rest I...”
An annoyed Legolas rose from his chair. His long fingers defiantly rested on his slightly protruding middle. “I feel fine! Don’t you start, Aragorn; it’s bad enough that Gimli would have me rest in bed for my entire term! He treats me like a child! Now that I know the problem I want to solve it. If I attempt to nap now I’ll merely lie there and worry. So if Orlando will see me I want to make the attempt.”
Gimli shook his head and gave up. Knowing that he had pushed too far he laced his next words with love. “My sweet stubborn Elf, forgive me. Just please don’t over do. Erm, I take it I should wait out here? If this laddie is so under the weather I’d like to meet him when he’s back to his old self.”
“Exactly. Come, Gimli, let me order you food and wine. I’ll pass the time with you.”
“Very well.”
Legolas kissed his mate’s cheek then he walked toward the bedroom. No! Another wavering dizzy spell quickly passed over him. They were so annoying! He managed to prevent himself from stumbling. If his worried Gimli saw Legolas stagger he’d be forced down into the nearest bed for a rest. No. Step slowly, there... excellent.
Once in the dimly lit bedroom Legolas viewed the back of Orlando’s head. Moving around to the bed’s far side he lightly perched on the edge. Oh Gods. Orlando’s peculiar skin tone told Legolas what trouble the boy was in. Gods, he wished he could consult with Elrond or Galadriel about this matter. They had known how to cure without using their own soul strength.
Legolas did not.
Perhaps words could help. “Orlando. Orlando? It’s Legolas. I’ve come to visit you. Will you open your dark eyes and look at me? Seeing you smile at me would make me very happy.” Legolas ran his fingers over Orlando’s unkempt mane then he stroked the fading bruise marring the boy’s forehead. “Orlando? Will you please speak to me?”
As he drifted in his darkness Orlando vaguely heard a melodic voice that sounded familiar but... no. He wanted to sleep, yes, relax in safe, comforting darkness. But what was that scent... a green, comforting scent teased his nostrils. That was also familiar. Pleasing.
No. It couldn’t help him. Nothing could help nothing. Let him dissolve into nothingness. Nothingness held no pain.
When Orlando refused to respond Legolas blinked in dismay. Yes, he’d have to resort to serious measures. Very well. Legolas lifted the sheet from Orlando’s prone body. Good, under the sheet Orlando was already nude. Rising from the bed Legolas swiftly removed his clothing from his tall, elegant body. After neatly piling his clothing on a nearby chair Legolas slid into the bed and pulled Orlando’s limp body close. Gods, the lad felt oddly cold.
Orlando struggled to remain in his safe place but... mmm, a slender warm male body pressed against his flesh. Not Aragorn. That heady fresh scent relentlessly filled his lungs and tugged him from his cocoon. No!
“Orlando. Listen to me. We all want you back with us. Aragorn loves you and he’s not banishing you. Accept his love and return to being his joy. Please. Orlando, hiding is useless. I’ll find you.” As Legolas murmured he ran his fingers against Orlando’s lean back. He positioned his lips so his words breathed against Orlando’s slack lips. Time for the true release. Legolas pressed his lips to Orlando’s, opened his soul and concentrated... aiii, yes, that same sick pain welled up at him only now it tangled with a true despair and madness. Orlando’s soul felt like something dark and foul grew in it, yes, a poisonous plant that never, ever should have been allowed to take root.
Legolas refused to back away from the danger. This boy needed him. He directed his being deep into the darkness and released. The Elf crafted his spiritual power as a shining glow destroying this malignant growth. As he began chanting Legolas visualized his power and cut deeper.
What was going on? Orlando squirmed against the warmth pressing against him. No! He didn’t deserve such superior grace. But even as Orlando fought the warmth invaded his soul and drove into his hidden spaces. Long-locked soul doors opened and admitted a healing light. A soothing feeling unlike anything Orlando had ever experienced hammered up into his tormented mind. The feeling lifted him, caressed him, loved him.
Legolas hugged Orlando’s trembling body closer and kept murmuring his Elven chant. His spirit shine hacked and cut. Success was near. Just a little more... yes, something else wanted to help him.
Mother. Orlando felt his mother’s sweet memory touch his battered soul. She still loved him. She was still with him because she would never leave her son. Mother still loved him. The shaken Haradrim never realized that he had ignored her lasting love for him. She never ceased loving him. Orlando could never be nothing because he still was well loved by such a gentle, untainted soul.
A long constructed damn broke within Orlando’s soul. His eyes flew open and gazed upon Legolas’ beautiful face. The Elf’s pale face was wreathed in concentration and pain. His eyeballs jerked and twitched against his firmly shut eyelids, his delicate blue veins writhing like tiny snakes.
Tears suddenly welled in Orlando’s eyes and splashed free.
Orlando hadn’t cried since his Mother’s horrific death. Not one tear had ever fallen from his eyes. Now he sobbed and let years of dismal grief flow from him. When his father chained him he had never cried. When beaten and sexually tortured by six brutal men he had never cried.
He never cried. Instead Orlando had protected himself with hatred and rage. He had trampled his own soul.
As he wielded one last cut Legolas almost released a anguished scream. Gods, this poor boy’s profound sorrow had nearly killed him. Release. Let the abysmal pain soar free. Cleanse. Banish. Allow the light in. Yes, ahh, Legolas smelled warm tears wetting sweet human flesh. The spiritual harm had been addressed. He had been in time.
So tired. Legolas barely summoned the strength to open his own eyes. He saw Orlando’s wide dark stare flooded with wetness and realization, not pain and torment. What a marvelous sight.
A weeping Orlando finally focused his stunned gaze on Legolas’ beautiful face. “You love me.”
Legolas smiled. “Yes, I love you because you bring Aragorn such joy. I love you for being there for him, for accepting Arwen and for believing in Aragorn. Aragorn may appear strong and confident but even he needs loving support.”
Believing in Aragorn. By the Burning Sands... yes. Orlando’s damage had made him misplace his belief in Aragorn’s sincere love. How horrible. Orlando continued staring at Legolas’ now fragile face. He realized he felt the Elf’s firm pregnant middle pressing against his own flesh. “Why did you endanger yourself? You carry a child!”
“My child is strong. You are not. My child is not dying from soul sickness. You were.”
The young Haradrim snuggled close against Legolas’ fragrant, giving flesh and let his tears fade away. He felt Legolas’ fingers still caress his back. Mmm. Never in Orlando’s tormented life did he ever imagine cuddling with a beautiful naked Elf. Yet instead of sexuality he felt peace and comfort. Orlando felt eons of immortal dignity cradle his soul and banish his lingering pain.
Poor Aragorn. How could Orlando have acted so cruel to Aragorn? How could he think that his lover wouldn’t protect him?
No. Enough of self-defeating thoughts. Aragorn loved him. Legolas loved him. His mother loved him.
Orlando needed to show Aragorn that he still believed in the King’s generous love. Now. Shifting against Legolas’ pliant body Orlando slowly sat up and raked back his tangled mane. He couldn’t believe he felt... whole. “Legolas, is Aragorn in the sitting room?”
“Yes. Shall I fetch...”
Orlando shook his head. “No. I want to go to him.” Now the Haradrim gazed at Legolas’ pale face. “I hurt you. My wretched damage hurt you. Can you... no, there’s nothing to forgive because you offered yourself freely. The Queen did the same thing for me. Why?”
“Because we treasure Aragorn’s happiness.”
“Then I own my very life to Aragorn’s happiness.” Orlando carefully slipped from the bed. Oh, so weak. So tired. He hesitated and gathered his strength. He needed to eat. He needed to live. He needed to go to his lover. The Haradrim’s fingers grasped his robe and pulled the blue silk against his body.
Legolas swung his legs over the bed’s edge and blinked in surprise. Hmm, he felt extremely weary. Dear Gimli would scold him until next year. All right, now the pregnant Elf truly needed a nap. Legolas hoped he didn’t need anything more; had he gone too far here?
As he watched his lovely savior’s uncertain movements Orlando couldn’t help but feel guilty. But it was an honest guilt, not a damaged one. “Are you well, Legolas?”
“I am fine; merely a little shaky.” Yes, already the main sensation of drained helplessness faded from his body. He would recover without help. What a relief. Legolas rose from the bed and determinedly pulled on his leggings and tunic. His stiff fingers still felt like they had touched flesh-sucking ice. “Oh, just to warn you Gimli is with me. You’ll finally meet my Dwarf.”
What ill-timing! Orlando uttered a soft moan. “Wonderful. I meet your mate after I nearly drain you. I fear he’s not going to appreciate to my selfish need.”
A soft chuckle brushed the air. “Dear Gimli seldom appreciates anything troublesome.” Legolas’ chuckles evolved into gentle laughter. “How cruel of me; I make my darling one sound like a cranky monster. Gimli is merely... cantankerous. It’s his way of dealing with the world. But under that gruff exterior beats a heart of generous shining love.”
The loving expression suffusing Legolas’ perfect face filled Orlando with contentment. “Then I already like your Dwarf.” As he spoke Orlando held out his hand to Legolas.
Their eyes met. Legolas grasped Orlando’s fingers before he leaned in for a gentle kiss. A slight blush stained his pale cheeks. “Erm, young one, I feel it best not to go into too much detail about what I did to you. I just knew that flesh to flesh contact would work the best although I must confess holding you close wasn’t unpleasant.”
After he nearly choked in disbelief Orlando shook his head. His fingers squeezed Legolas’ smooth flesh. “Do you think I want to tell Aragorn that I laid naked against your sublime beauty? Above all you cured me. Tis all they need to know.”
“Indeed. Smart lad.” Their smile sealed their secret. Long fingers danced close then parted in mutual understanding but their subtle bond remained. “Let’s show dear Aragorn your recovery.”
They turned and entered the sitting room. Casual conversation ceased. The overjoyed expression on Aragorn’s handsome face meant everything to Orlando. He allowed himself to be kissed over and over. He allowed himself to be adored and hugged. He allowed himself to cry again against a supportive King’s broad shoulder.
Yes, Orlando was well loved. The young Haradrim now knew he would never, ever be nothing no matter what happened to him.