Chapter 7
Curled into the crook of a branch, Legolas huddled against the broad trunk of the oak tree with whom he had formed a strong bond. His mind spun in many directions at once, and his body trembled with the intensity of his emotions. He felt betrayed, adrift, abandoned, and lost. The rain filtered through the protecting branches of the tree, falling softly on the tightly coiled form of the elf, plastering his hair to his face and soaking through the light shirt and trousers he wore.
Legolas was oblivious to all but the turmoil of his mind. Over and over the word kept echoing in his brain, 'Why? Why? Why? Why?' A distressed whimper tore from his throat as the gentle murmuring of his oak sanctuary finally penetrated the chaos that ruled his thoughts.
“What shall I do? How could he do this? Does he really think so little of me?”
“Peeeaaaaacccee. Ccccaaaallllmmm. Rrrrreeeessssttt.” The mighty oak soothed his distressed friend. The slow, ponderous workings of its consciousness had finally decided there had never been a being like the one currently seeking comfort from his distress. In its own way, the tree sought to comfort the bereft being.
Slowly, the soothing emanations from the tree worked their way into his consciousness and Legolas gradually uncurled, although he remained pressed against the trunk of the oak tree as shining tears got lost in the raindrops tracing the contours of his face. One slender hand traced a path over the rough bark as liquid words poured from his mouth in an attempt to understand what had befallen him.
“How could he think he could ever own me? Why would he do such a thing? I thought he was honorable, honest... a strong man, like Aragorn. But Aragorn would never purchase another being. Aragorn would slay the one who dared to do such a thing.”
Legolas closed his eyes against the pain that battered his soul. He had felt a connection with the man, from the moment he had touched him and led him to the trees so he could refresh his soul. Could he have been so wrong in his assessment of the man's character?
Viggo had seemed to be one who cared about others. His treatment of his servants indicated a man who valued life and respected others, whatever their standing in the world. But such a man would not lower himself to pay coin to... to actually own another, would he?
A harsh sob tore its way from the elf's throat. He had found his feelings for the man growing stronger as each day passed. Could he accept that he cared so deeply for one who thought so little of others that he would treat them so poorly?
A small, quiet part of the elf's mind spoke softly, telling him that Viggo hadn't treated him poorly at all. In all things, Viggo had treated him with respect and honour. He had never forced Legolas to do anything he did not wish to, and in fact had risked his own well-being to give the elf the time he needed to rebuild his strength after his long absence from growing things.
But why did he buy him then? Reluctantly, Legolas realized that even though the actions themselves, taken without consideration, were abominable, Viggo had acted with honorable intentions. The elf still could not understand why anyone would not appreciate the person Viggo was, but he could admit that he knew very little of this world he found himself in. Perhaps there truly were no other options? Perhaps Viggo's actions had truly been the only option open to him? But where did that leave Legolas?
Should he accept that Viggo owned him? No! He could never accept that another could own him. He had never traded on his heritage, but Legolas could not forget that he was the son of Thranduil, King of the Greenwood. It mattered not that his father was less than loving towards him. The elf was honoured and proud to be a leader of his people. He could not discard that so easily and accept that he had become just a chattel.
But Viggo had said that he didn't consider that he owned the elf, even though he had paid a considerable sum for him. What did that mean for Legolas? The man had said he would release Legolas when he was sure that he could survive in this world, but how difficult could it be to survive in this world? There were no orcs, no dragons, no great dangers that a well placed arrow or slashing knife could not remedy quickly. Was it possible that the man said he would release him, but had no intention of carrying out his promise?
No. Legolas would not believe so ill of the man. He had proven to be true and honest in all his dealings. He could have refrained from telling Legolas how they had been brought together until after the elf had given himself. Legolas knew the first time he shared himself with the man a small part of himself would be bound to him, and each time they coupled, the bond would grow stronger. If Viggo were truly dishonest, he would have held his silence until Legolas was bound so tightly he could do no other than accept his new lot.
It mattered not that Viggo had no knowledge of the repercussions of their joining. The fact remained, the man wanted Legolas to have full knowledge before they took that final step. Even now, it would be difficult to just walk away, to never see Viggo again, never hear his soft, throaty chuckle, never see the way the stars sparkled in his eyes.
Legolas bowed his head. If he were to be as honest as Viggo, he would have to admit that already it would be almost impossible to leave and never see the man again. Reaching his decision, the elf jumped lightly to the forest floor. He wrapped his arms around the bole of the oak tree that had been his refuge. “Thank you, friend. Your comfort has been welcome. I honour you for your strength and wisdom.”
The oak leaves rustled slightly. “Gooooo, fffrrrrriiieennddd. Hhhaaaappppyyy.”
“I shall do my best.” Legolas turned and headed back towards the house, the moonlight glistening on the wet ground clearly lighting his way.
Faint damp marks on the treads of the stairs were the only indication that not all in the house were abed. Pausing in front of the closed door, Legolas hesitated only a moment before raising his hand to tap lightly on the wood.
Viggo started from his morose contemplation of the rain-drenched night. He had eaten no dinner, spending his time wishing first that he had not had to pay for Legolas' company, and then wishing for the elf to give him a chance to make it right. So deep was he lost in his thoughts of how he could possibly make it right that he nearly missed the soft tapping at his bedroom door.
His heart in his throat, the American made his way to the door, opening it to reveal a very wet elf, looking nervous and hesitant.
“I... may I...,” Legolas began nervously. Now that he was face to face with Viggo, he didn't know quite what to say to the man.
Silently, the man opened the door wider, allowing the elf to enter his bedroom, raising his eyebrows slightly when Legolas closed the door behind himself.
“I know you asked me not to leave the house,” Legolas began slowly. “But I... needed the comfort of the trees. Will you forgive me for ignoring your request?”
“Of course,” Viggo said softly. “When I saw you heading toward the woods, I knew it was what you needed. I... I had given you rather a lot to accept.” The man's hands trembled, afraid that the elf was going to demand his immediate freedom. It would break his heart, but he would release Legolas immediately, if that was his wish.
Legolas' eyes shone with unshed tears. “You are an honourable man, Viggo. I... I could wish that we had met under... different... different... circumstances, but we didn't. I thank you for your truth to me.”
Viggo bit his lip as he tried to steel himself for the elf's next words.
“I had thought... I am sorry, I cannot find the words in English... I had thought that your word to release me was only just words, and that you had no intention of following through with the deed. But the more I thought, the more I realized that you have treated me with honesty and respect throughout our time together. You would not say one thing and do the opposite.” Legolas moved closer to the still form of his friend. “I cannot like how we met, but I would like our friendship to continue...”
“Legolas,” Viggo whispered as his tears began to fall. “You will never know how happy you have made me...”
“Wait.” Legolas pressed one strong finger to the man's lips, silencing him, and smiled hesitantly. “I had not finished.”
Viggo waited, making no attempt to move his mouth away from the gentle touch of the elf's finger on his lips.
“I would like our friendship to continue,” Legolas began again. “And perhaps even more than friendship, if that is your wish too, my beloved friend?”
Pressing a kiss to the slender finger held against his lips, Viggo raised his hand to take the elf's tenderly, drawing the slim, muscular body closer until only scant millimetres separated them. “Nothing would make me happier,” he breathed as he leaned in to claim the elf's mouth with his own.
Legolas sighed with relief and brought his free hand up to caress Viggo's face as he opened his mouth, welcoming the man's tongue as it teased and tasted him.
The passion that would not be denied between them soon turned the tender kiss into something impassioned and unfettered as arms encircled and tongues tangled, each wanting to taste the fullness of their lover.
Soft sighs and moans were the only sounds other than the rain beating unceasingly against the windowpanes as the two males explored each other almost feverishly. Instinctively, Viggo gradually backed Legolas to the end of the bed, moaning needily as the elf fell back onto the mattress, drawing the man to lie on top of him.
Two bodies rolled on the mattress, playfully fighting for dominance. At last, breaking the kiss to breathe, Viggo lay on top of Legolas, nestled between the elf's strong thighs.
“I am wet,” Legolas murmured apologetically as he arched his neck, wordlessly begging the man to continue his assault.
“I don't care,” Viggo husked, his lips tracing a path up the slender neck, kissing, licking and nipping. He traced the slightly pointed tip of the elf's ear, pleased when Legolas arched beneath him.
“Ai! Valar! Viggo, you undo me!”
“What are the words for 'I want you', 'I need you', 'I desire you'?” Viggo breathed as he nuzzled his lover.
“Aniron! Viggo! Aniron!” Legolas panted as he wrapped his arms and legs around his lover. He ached to feel the man filling him.
“Aniron, Legolas,” Viggo whispered as he moved once more to claim the kiss-swollen lips.
Words were no longer necessary as the two lovers moved to undress each other, each touch and caress followed with kisses and needy sighs and whimpers. Clothing was scattered on the floor around the bed as the two naked bodies touched for the first time.
“Legolas! Oh my beautiful one, you feel so good,” Viggo moaned softly as his mouth moved over the alabaster perfection of his lover's skin. His tongue and teeth tasted each honey-coloured nipple in turn, pleased when the elf arched into his touch. The man's hips rocked in small thrusts against the elf's thigh as he teased each nipple to a hard nub.
Whimpering and writhing beneath his lover's touch, Legolas felt his body begin to burn with his desire in a way it had never done before. He did not stop to wonder why this was so, he only knew that he needed to feel Viggo inside him before he went mad. “Please,Viggo, fill me. I need you to fill me.”
At the urgently needy sound of Legolas' words, Viggo hastily scrabbled in the nightstand drawer for the tube of lubricant. Quickly he moved to open the elf with his fingers, placing soft kisses over the taut, trembling abdomen as his fingers stroked and teased the hot passage, seeking that one spot.
“Ai!” Legolas shrieked and bucked his hips when Viggo's questing fingers stroked over his pleasure spot. “Now! Now! I need you inside me now!” He gasped and shuddered with desire as Viggo's length entered him slowly and steadily, not stopping until the man was fully bedded inside Legolas' passage.
Legolas trembled and whimpered, his body movements taken over by instinct as his mind was overcome by the scintillating lightning that coursed through him as Viggo moved within him. He wrapped his long, slender legs around the muscular frame of his lover, drawing him closer as his hands roamed over Viggo's body, touching every place he could reach in his effort to fully know the man.
Viggo panted and groaned as he thrust into the tight heat of the elf. His body felt electrified and he was sure sparks were jumping between them wherever their bodies touched.
The two bodies moved as one in a perfect union of souls as they found completion in each other's arms. At last they lay still, arms and legs entwined, breathing slowly calming. Legolas lightly stroked the sweat-damp back of his lover as his mind floated in a blissful haze, only returning when he heard a slight, choked off sob.
“Viggo? Are you well?” The elf asked tentatively, afraid their joining had done some harm to the man.
Viggo slowly lifted his head from where he'd nuzzled into the elf's neck. He made no attempt to hide his tears, even as he smiled into the concerned gaze of his lover. “I am more than well, Legolas.” One hand came up to caress the delicate planes of the blonde elf's face. “I hardly dared to hope you would want this... I love you, Legolas. I can't help it. You probably don't want to hear it, but I won't hide anything from you. My heart sings just to be near you, and now that we have made love, I am overwhelmed.”
Legolas smiled sweetly, his thumb tenderly wiping the tears from the man's cheeks. “My Viggo. A'mael, you have lit a fire within me that will not be quenched. Amin mela lle, Viggo.”
The couple lay cocooned in the blankets and each others' arms. Viggo drowsed, teetering on the brink of sleep, but reluctant to slip over and miss a moment of time with Legolas.
The elf smiled as he sensed the man's need for sleep. He snuggled in closer, tucking his head under the dimpled chin. “Sleep, my Viggo. I will be here when you wake.”
As if only waiting for the reassuring words, Viggo tumbled headlong into sleep, his body comforted by the slight weight of the elf lying on his chest.
Legolas watched the rain patter against the bedroom window, his eyes finally glazing in reverie as the sky began to lighten with the coming dawn.
Legolas was oblivious to all but the turmoil of his mind. Over and over the word kept echoing in his brain, 'Why? Why? Why? Why?' A distressed whimper tore from his throat as the gentle murmuring of his oak sanctuary finally penetrated the chaos that ruled his thoughts.
“What shall I do? How could he do this? Does he really think so little of me?”
“Peeeaaaaacccee. Ccccaaaallllmmm. Rrrrreeeessssttt.” The mighty oak soothed his distressed friend. The slow, ponderous workings of its consciousness had finally decided there had never been a being like the one currently seeking comfort from his distress. In its own way, the tree sought to comfort the bereft being.
Slowly, the soothing emanations from the tree worked their way into his consciousness and Legolas gradually uncurled, although he remained pressed against the trunk of the oak tree as shining tears got lost in the raindrops tracing the contours of his face. One slender hand traced a path over the rough bark as liquid words poured from his mouth in an attempt to understand what had befallen him.
“How could he think he could ever own me? Why would he do such a thing? I thought he was honorable, honest... a strong man, like Aragorn. But Aragorn would never purchase another being. Aragorn would slay the one who dared to do such a thing.”
Legolas closed his eyes against the pain that battered his soul. He had felt a connection with the man, from the moment he had touched him and led him to the trees so he could refresh his soul. Could he have been so wrong in his assessment of the man's character?
Viggo had seemed to be one who cared about others. His treatment of his servants indicated a man who valued life and respected others, whatever their standing in the world. But such a man would not lower himself to pay coin to... to actually own another, would he?
A harsh sob tore its way from the elf's throat. He had found his feelings for the man growing stronger as each day passed. Could he accept that he cared so deeply for one who thought so little of others that he would treat them so poorly?
A small, quiet part of the elf's mind spoke softly, telling him that Viggo hadn't treated him poorly at all. In all things, Viggo had treated him with respect and honour. He had never forced Legolas to do anything he did not wish to, and in fact had risked his own well-being to give the elf the time he needed to rebuild his strength after his long absence from growing things.
But why did he buy him then? Reluctantly, Legolas realized that even though the actions themselves, taken without consideration, were abominable, Viggo had acted with honorable intentions. The elf still could not understand why anyone would not appreciate the person Viggo was, but he could admit that he knew very little of this world he found himself in. Perhaps there truly were no other options? Perhaps Viggo's actions had truly been the only option open to him? But where did that leave Legolas?
Should he accept that Viggo owned him? No! He could never accept that another could own him. He had never traded on his heritage, but Legolas could not forget that he was the son of Thranduil, King of the Greenwood. It mattered not that his father was less than loving towards him. The elf was honoured and proud to be a leader of his people. He could not discard that so easily and accept that he had become just a chattel.
But Viggo had said that he didn't consider that he owned the elf, even though he had paid a considerable sum for him. What did that mean for Legolas? The man had said he would release Legolas when he was sure that he could survive in this world, but how difficult could it be to survive in this world? There were no orcs, no dragons, no great dangers that a well placed arrow or slashing knife could not remedy quickly. Was it possible that the man said he would release him, but had no intention of carrying out his promise?
No. Legolas would not believe so ill of the man. He had proven to be true and honest in all his dealings. He could have refrained from telling Legolas how they had been brought together until after the elf had given himself. Legolas knew the first time he shared himself with the man a small part of himself would be bound to him, and each time they coupled, the bond would grow stronger. If Viggo were truly dishonest, he would have held his silence until Legolas was bound so tightly he could do no other than accept his new lot.
It mattered not that Viggo had no knowledge of the repercussions of their joining. The fact remained, the man wanted Legolas to have full knowledge before they took that final step. Even now, it would be difficult to just walk away, to never see Viggo again, never hear his soft, throaty chuckle, never see the way the stars sparkled in his eyes.
Legolas bowed his head. If he were to be as honest as Viggo, he would have to admit that already it would be almost impossible to leave and never see the man again. Reaching his decision, the elf jumped lightly to the forest floor. He wrapped his arms around the bole of the oak tree that had been his refuge. “Thank you, friend. Your comfort has been welcome. I honour you for your strength and wisdom.”
The oak leaves rustled slightly. “Gooooo, fffrrrrriiieennddd. Hhhaaaappppyyy.”
“I shall do my best.” Legolas turned and headed back towards the house, the moonlight glistening on the wet ground clearly lighting his way.
Faint damp marks on the treads of the stairs were the only indication that not all in the house were abed. Pausing in front of the closed door, Legolas hesitated only a moment before raising his hand to tap lightly on the wood.
Viggo started from his morose contemplation of the rain-drenched night. He had eaten no dinner, spending his time wishing first that he had not had to pay for Legolas' company, and then wishing for the elf to give him a chance to make it right. So deep was he lost in his thoughts of how he could possibly make it right that he nearly missed the soft tapping at his bedroom door.
His heart in his throat, the American made his way to the door, opening it to reveal a very wet elf, looking nervous and hesitant.
“I... may I...,” Legolas began nervously. Now that he was face to face with Viggo, he didn't know quite what to say to the man.
Silently, the man opened the door wider, allowing the elf to enter his bedroom, raising his eyebrows slightly when Legolas closed the door behind himself.
“I know you asked me not to leave the house,” Legolas began slowly. “But I... needed the comfort of the trees. Will you forgive me for ignoring your request?”
“Of course,” Viggo said softly. “When I saw you heading toward the woods, I knew it was what you needed. I... I had given you rather a lot to accept.” The man's hands trembled, afraid that the elf was going to demand his immediate freedom. It would break his heart, but he would release Legolas immediately, if that was his wish.
Legolas' eyes shone with unshed tears. “You are an honourable man, Viggo. I... I could wish that we had met under... different... different... circumstances, but we didn't. I thank you for your truth to me.”
Viggo bit his lip as he tried to steel himself for the elf's next words.
“I had thought... I am sorry, I cannot find the words in English... I had thought that your word to release me was only just words, and that you had no intention of following through with the deed. But the more I thought, the more I realized that you have treated me with honesty and respect throughout our time together. You would not say one thing and do the opposite.” Legolas moved closer to the still form of his friend. “I cannot like how we met, but I would like our friendship to continue...”
“Legolas,” Viggo whispered as his tears began to fall. “You will never know how happy you have made me...”
“Wait.” Legolas pressed one strong finger to the man's lips, silencing him, and smiled hesitantly. “I had not finished.”
Viggo waited, making no attempt to move his mouth away from the gentle touch of the elf's finger on his lips.
“I would like our friendship to continue,” Legolas began again. “And perhaps even more than friendship, if that is your wish too, my beloved friend?”
Pressing a kiss to the slender finger held against his lips, Viggo raised his hand to take the elf's tenderly, drawing the slim, muscular body closer until only scant millimetres separated them. “Nothing would make me happier,” he breathed as he leaned in to claim the elf's mouth with his own.
Legolas sighed with relief and brought his free hand up to caress Viggo's face as he opened his mouth, welcoming the man's tongue as it teased and tasted him.
The passion that would not be denied between them soon turned the tender kiss into something impassioned and unfettered as arms encircled and tongues tangled, each wanting to taste the fullness of their lover.
Soft sighs and moans were the only sounds other than the rain beating unceasingly against the windowpanes as the two males explored each other almost feverishly. Instinctively, Viggo gradually backed Legolas to the end of the bed, moaning needily as the elf fell back onto the mattress, drawing the man to lie on top of him.
Two bodies rolled on the mattress, playfully fighting for dominance. At last, breaking the kiss to breathe, Viggo lay on top of Legolas, nestled between the elf's strong thighs.
“I am wet,” Legolas murmured apologetically as he arched his neck, wordlessly begging the man to continue his assault.
“I don't care,” Viggo husked, his lips tracing a path up the slender neck, kissing, licking and nipping. He traced the slightly pointed tip of the elf's ear, pleased when Legolas arched beneath him.
“Ai! Valar! Viggo, you undo me!”
“What are the words for 'I want you', 'I need you', 'I desire you'?” Viggo breathed as he nuzzled his lover.
“Aniron! Viggo! Aniron!” Legolas panted as he wrapped his arms and legs around his lover. He ached to feel the man filling him.
“Aniron, Legolas,” Viggo whispered as he moved once more to claim the kiss-swollen lips.
Words were no longer necessary as the two lovers moved to undress each other, each touch and caress followed with kisses and needy sighs and whimpers. Clothing was scattered on the floor around the bed as the two naked bodies touched for the first time.
“Legolas! Oh my beautiful one, you feel so good,” Viggo moaned softly as his mouth moved over the alabaster perfection of his lover's skin. His tongue and teeth tasted each honey-coloured nipple in turn, pleased when the elf arched into his touch. The man's hips rocked in small thrusts against the elf's thigh as he teased each nipple to a hard nub.
Whimpering and writhing beneath his lover's touch, Legolas felt his body begin to burn with his desire in a way it had never done before. He did not stop to wonder why this was so, he only knew that he needed to feel Viggo inside him before he went mad. “Please,Viggo, fill me. I need you to fill me.”
At the urgently needy sound of Legolas' words, Viggo hastily scrabbled in the nightstand drawer for the tube of lubricant. Quickly he moved to open the elf with his fingers, placing soft kisses over the taut, trembling abdomen as his fingers stroked and teased the hot passage, seeking that one spot.
“Ai!” Legolas shrieked and bucked his hips when Viggo's questing fingers stroked over his pleasure spot. “Now! Now! I need you inside me now!” He gasped and shuddered with desire as Viggo's length entered him slowly and steadily, not stopping until the man was fully bedded inside Legolas' passage.
Legolas trembled and whimpered, his body movements taken over by instinct as his mind was overcome by the scintillating lightning that coursed through him as Viggo moved within him. He wrapped his long, slender legs around the muscular frame of his lover, drawing him closer as his hands roamed over Viggo's body, touching every place he could reach in his effort to fully know the man.
Viggo panted and groaned as he thrust into the tight heat of the elf. His body felt electrified and he was sure sparks were jumping between them wherever their bodies touched.
The two bodies moved as one in a perfect union of souls as they found completion in each other's arms. At last they lay still, arms and legs entwined, breathing slowly calming. Legolas lightly stroked the sweat-damp back of his lover as his mind floated in a blissful haze, only returning when he heard a slight, choked off sob.
“Viggo? Are you well?” The elf asked tentatively, afraid their joining had done some harm to the man.
Viggo slowly lifted his head from where he'd nuzzled into the elf's neck. He made no attempt to hide his tears, even as he smiled into the concerned gaze of his lover. “I am more than well, Legolas.” One hand came up to caress the delicate planes of the blonde elf's face. “I hardly dared to hope you would want this... I love you, Legolas. I can't help it. You probably don't want to hear it, but I won't hide anything from you. My heart sings just to be near you, and now that we have made love, I am overwhelmed.”
Legolas smiled sweetly, his thumb tenderly wiping the tears from the man's cheeks. “My Viggo. A'mael, you have lit a fire within me that will not be quenched. Amin mela lle, Viggo.”
The couple lay cocooned in the blankets and each others' arms. Viggo drowsed, teetering on the brink of sleep, but reluctant to slip over and miss a moment of time with Legolas.
The elf smiled as he sensed the man's need for sleep. He snuggled in closer, tucking his head under the dimpled chin. “Sleep, my Viggo. I will be here when you wake.”
As if only waiting for the reassuring words, Viggo tumbled headlong into sleep, his body comforted by the slight weight of the elf lying on his chest.
Legolas watched the rain patter against the bedroom window, his eyes finally glazing in reverie as the sky began to lighten with the coming dawn.