Chapter 6
Legolas paced restlessly around the library. Viggo was busy, doing whatever it was that he did to earn gold to pay for his servants and home. Rain was pouring down heavily and the man had forbidden Legolas to go to the woods on his own. The Silvan elf was more than a little annoyed at the edict, but was doing his best to comply in order to retain Viggo's trust. A little rain had never stopped him from communing with the trees before. He sighed sadly and leaned his head against the window, looking through the rain spattered pane at the beckoning trees.
“Legolas? I am sorry, my friend. I know you want to go to the woods again today, but I don't want you to get sick. I don't know if human medicines would harm you, or if they would even work,” Viggo said compassionately as he walked further into the library, his heart going out to the sad figure leaning against the window.
Legolas kept his eyes fastened on the woods as he spoke, “Elves do not get sick, Viggo. I have been wet before with no trouble. I miss my home. The trees help me to not feel quite so lonely.”
The language lessons had progressed greatly over the past two weeks and Legolas now had quite a good grasp on English. Viggo was not quite as conversant with Sindarin, but he continued to practice.
“I wish I could hurt your lonely,” Viggo said softly.
Legolas smiled. “I think you mean help my loneliness.”
“Yes,” Viggo agreed with a sheepish grin. “I will learn, one day.”
“Already you do very well, Viggo,” Legolas said as he finally turned away from the window. “In truth, I am bored. I have nothing to occupy me while you are busy. I am being a brat. The twins have often accused me thus, but I would never agree.” Legolas sighed. “There are no orcs to slay, I cannot read your language... I fear Elladan and Elrohir is correct, I am a brat.”
“Are correct,” Viggo corrected. “But I don't agree with them.” Slowly he moved closer to the beautiful elf. The past two weeks had been a combination of heaven and hell. He had enjoyed spending time with Legolas, but he had to deal with an almost constant erection. The elf's innocently sexy air was driving him to distraction. “I don't think you're a brat. I would be a lot more cranky than you are if I didn't have something to occupy me.”
Legolas felt his heart beat faster as Viggo moved to stand in front of him. The man carried an intensely erotic air, almost as strong as Aragorn. The elf wished he dared to lean in for a kiss, but he didn't know if two males loving each other were acceptable in this world. Unconsciously he leaned closer, his lips slightly parted. “And have you finished your work,” he said softly.
“I have,” Viggo said breathlessly, his heart racing as his lips moved inexorably closer to the sweet pink bow of the elf's mouth. He tilted his head slightly, his lips now only scant millimetres from his goal. “I am yours to command, Legolas.”
Sighing softly, Legolas lightly touched his lips to Viggo's. A moan, inaudible to all but elven ears, escaped as the man's lips opened under his, welcoming his touch. The moan became audible when the elf felt the first flick of the man's tongue against his mouth.
Viggo's hand rose to cradle Legolas' head as he deepened the kiss. He groaned his need as Legolas' tongue stroked his and the elf's hands moved to draw their bodies together.
Legolas mewled needily as his hands drew Viggo's body against his own, feeling the man's erection pressing his own hard length.
At length, the two broke for air. Viggo's hand threaded into the blonde locks of the elf as he stroked one chiseled cheekbone with his thumb. “Legolas, I...”
“Do not,” Legolas begged. “Please do not say you regret.”
“How could I regret?” Viggo asked tenderly. “I am very attracted to you, Legolas. But I think I need to explain something to you before anything else happens.”
“Can we not talk later?” Legolas asked as his hand slowly stroked the swell of Viggo's ass.
“Please.” Reluctantly Viggo moved out of the elf's embrace. “I really need to explain this to you, Legolas, and when you touch me like that I can barely think, never mind talk.”
“Then do not think, or talk.” Legolas pursued the man as he backed across the room. It seemed that two males sharing their need was acceptable here, and the elf meant to find his satisfaction with the man.
Viggo held Legolas' hand in his and guided him to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace. “Please, let me speak. I need to do this, Legolas. Then, if you still wish it, I will be more than happy to satisfy your need.”
“Very well,” Legolas said with what would have been the barest hint of a pout, if elves were given to pouting.
Viggo sank back from the beautiful being in front of him. He felt like the lowest form of life that he'd actually paid money to have Legolas delivered to him. He was terrified that the elf was going to despise him for what he'd done and he would once more be left alone and lonely. Only this time, it would be far worse, because he had fallen in love with the blonde beauty.
Running a hand distractedly through his hair, Viggo began his tale. “I have to explain a bit about my life first. It all has relevance, I promise. Will you listen until I finish?”
“I will listen,” Legolas said solemnly.
“I discovered, at a fairly young age, that I had a certain talent for seeing opportunities that others had missed.” Viggo stared off into the distance for a moment before returning his eyes to the steady blue gaze of the being who held his heart. “I was barely out of high school before I closed my first deal and had my first million by the time I was 21. At the time, I had my whole life ahead of me, and felt it would be a simple matter to find someone to share that life with, once I was more secure in the career I had chosen.”
“Unfortunately, by the time I was ready to find a partner to settle with, the men I was interested in were blinded by my position in society and my wealth. I tried several times, but each time, the man I thought actually loved me for me and not what I could give him proved to be only interested in my money. The same money that had become less and less important to me the more I accumulated.” Viggo sighed and looked down at his hands twisted together in his lap.
“Five years ago, I had all but given up hope of ever finding someone to share my life with. I was more or less resigned to living a lonely life. But then I had a chance meeting with a business associate.” Viggo swallowed hard, this was the hardest part to explain. He hoped Legolas would forgive him for what he was about to reveal. “He told me how he had bought himself a young man to share his bed and suggested that I do the same. His thinking was that at least I would have someone clean to fuck, if nothing else. He told me I should just forget about love, men like he and I were never going to find it.”
“You buy and sell people in this world?” Legolas asked in astonishment. He felt ill at the very thought that his friend would have even considered such a thing. “But you did not do this.”
“I wish that I could say I hadn't,” Viggo said with resignation, aware that every word he spoke from that moment on would drive Legolas further and further away from him. “To my shame, I did listen to him, and I took the phone number that he gave me. I made that phone call five years ago, explaining in detail what I wanted and what I was prepared to pay for it. Every six months I would get a phone call, telling me what progress if any had been made in filling my request.”
“But you did not purchase someone, surely?” Legolas asked almost hesitantly. He did not want to think ill of this man who attracted and aroused him so.
“Please, Legolas, just listen. This is already so hard for me to say.” Viggo gripped his hands tightly together to keep from reaching for the elf. He longed to hold the slender body in his arms and tell him how much he loved him, regardless of how they had met.
Legolas nodded silently, suddenly afraid of what he would hear.
“One day, I got a phone call. Beyond all expectation, every one of my requirements had been filled. Arrangements were made, and the delivery would take place as soon as the funds were transferred.”
The elf became very still, terrified of what would come next.
“You were the person that had been found for me, Legolas,” Viggo whispered. “I wish I could have met you under other circumstances, but I didn't. I paid money, and had you delivered to me. I am sorry.”
“No.” The one word denial was barely audible as it crossed the elf's lips. His stricken eyes begged Viggo to tell him it wasn't true. “You cannot mean this! I am a prince of the Greenwood. A warrior. I am not a pleasure slave. You did not buy me. Tell me you did not!” The elf was so distraught, he reverted back to his own language, unable to think in English.
“I am sorry,” Viggo said as his eyes filled with tears. “I wish I could say I didn't, but the fact remains that I did do that, Legolas. It does not excuse what I have done, but I did not know you when you were brought to me. If I had, I would never dare to think I could own one such as you. IF I had not been so lonely, I never would have considered this to be a viable solution; I do not wish to own anyone. Even now, I don't think that I own you. I had hoped that we could become friends, and that eventually, if you wished it, we could become more than friends. I beg you to forgive me, my friend.”
“You cannot own me!” Legolas declared, jumping to his feet. “I would rather die than be owned, by anyone!”
“You would have died!” Viggo's heart-felt cry rocked Legolas to the core and he fell back onto the couch. “I know the story of how you were found. If I hadn't paid to have you brought here, you would have been sold to someone else, someone with fewer scruples than I. You would have died, Legolas.” The last sentence came out brokenly as Viggo bent over his knees, the pain he felt at the betrayed look on the elf's face more than he could bear. “Someone else wouldn't have cared that you needed the trees to live. You would have been locked away and used to satisfy the carnal desires of your owner. I know who would have claimed you if I hadn't.”
The tear-streaked face raised once more to look into the hurt, bewildered gaze of the one he had come to love. “I know that you probably hate me right now, and I will release you, as soon as I am sure you can survive in this world. All I ask is that some day, maybe, you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
Legolas watched the man in front of him, feeling the waves of shame and remorse that rolled off him. A part of him wanted to tell Viggo it was alright, but there was a bigger part of him that was hurt and humiliated that the man he'd thought was as noble as Aragorn could be so base as to purchase another living being.
The elf's mind returned to the night of his arrival in this world and he shuddered slightly. He had no doubt that if the plain man had not recognized his worth, he would be dead right now. But did that make it acceptable for Viggo to purchase him like he was a cask of wine or a horse of the Rohirrim? At last he turned his gaze on the silently weeping man. “You have given me much to consider, Viggo. With your permission, I will go and think long on these matters.”
“You don't need my permission, Legolas. You are free to go where ever you wish in my home.”
“But I do need your permission, you are my owner, are you not?”
Viggo flinched visibly at the calmly spoken words. “Legolas... you are free to go where you will within the house. I only ask that you not leave the house until you have made your decision. I will wait for you to return with your decision.”
Silently, the elf rose and walked from the room without a backward glance. He desperately wanted to go out to the woods. His heart and soul were in such turmoil he needed the soothing murmur of the trees. He was halfway up the stairs to his room when he stopped, then turned and made his way silently down again and out the door. He would not go far into the woods, but he needed the comfort of the trees. If Viggo could not understand that, then he was not the man Legolas had grown to know.
Viggo watched out the library window as the slender figure ran through the rain. When Legolas disappeared among the trees, he leaned his head against the window pane and let the tears run unhindered down his face.
“Legolas? I am sorry, my friend. I know you want to go to the woods again today, but I don't want you to get sick. I don't know if human medicines would harm you, or if they would even work,” Viggo said compassionately as he walked further into the library, his heart going out to the sad figure leaning against the window.
Legolas kept his eyes fastened on the woods as he spoke, “Elves do not get sick, Viggo. I have been wet before with no trouble. I miss my home. The trees help me to not feel quite so lonely.”
The language lessons had progressed greatly over the past two weeks and Legolas now had quite a good grasp on English. Viggo was not quite as conversant with Sindarin, but he continued to practice.
“I wish I could hurt your lonely,” Viggo said softly.
Legolas smiled. “I think you mean help my loneliness.”
“Yes,” Viggo agreed with a sheepish grin. “I will learn, one day.”
“Already you do very well, Viggo,” Legolas said as he finally turned away from the window. “In truth, I am bored. I have nothing to occupy me while you are busy. I am being a brat. The twins have often accused me thus, but I would never agree.” Legolas sighed. “There are no orcs to slay, I cannot read your language... I fear Elladan and Elrohir is correct, I am a brat.”
“Are correct,” Viggo corrected. “But I don't agree with them.” Slowly he moved closer to the beautiful elf. The past two weeks had been a combination of heaven and hell. He had enjoyed spending time with Legolas, but he had to deal with an almost constant erection. The elf's innocently sexy air was driving him to distraction. “I don't think you're a brat. I would be a lot more cranky than you are if I didn't have something to occupy me.”
Legolas felt his heart beat faster as Viggo moved to stand in front of him. The man carried an intensely erotic air, almost as strong as Aragorn. The elf wished he dared to lean in for a kiss, but he didn't know if two males loving each other were acceptable in this world. Unconsciously he leaned closer, his lips slightly parted. “And have you finished your work,” he said softly.
“I have,” Viggo said breathlessly, his heart racing as his lips moved inexorably closer to the sweet pink bow of the elf's mouth. He tilted his head slightly, his lips now only scant millimetres from his goal. “I am yours to command, Legolas.”
Sighing softly, Legolas lightly touched his lips to Viggo's. A moan, inaudible to all but elven ears, escaped as the man's lips opened under his, welcoming his touch. The moan became audible when the elf felt the first flick of the man's tongue against his mouth.
Viggo's hand rose to cradle Legolas' head as he deepened the kiss. He groaned his need as Legolas' tongue stroked his and the elf's hands moved to draw their bodies together.
Legolas mewled needily as his hands drew Viggo's body against his own, feeling the man's erection pressing his own hard length.
At length, the two broke for air. Viggo's hand threaded into the blonde locks of the elf as he stroked one chiseled cheekbone with his thumb. “Legolas, I...”
“Do not,” Legolas begged. “Please do not say you regret.”
“How could I regret?” Viggo asked tenderly. “I am very attracted to you, Legolas. But I think I need to explain something to you before anything else happens.”
“Can we not talk later?” Legolas asked as his hand slowly stroked the swell of Viggo's ass.
“Please.” Reluctantly Viggo moved out of the elf's embrace. “I really need to explain this to you, Legolas, and when you touch me like that I can barely think, never mind talk.”
“Then do not think, or talk.” Legolas pursued the man as he backed across the room. It seemed that two males sharing their need was acceptable here, and the elf meant to find his satisfaction with the man.
Viggo held Legolas' hand in his and guided him to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace. “Please, let me speak. I need to do this, Legolas. Then, if you still wish it, I will be more than happy to satisfy your need.”
“Very well,” Legolas said with what would have been the barest hint of a pout, if elves were given to pouting.
Viggo sank back from the beautiful being in front of him. He felt like the lowest form of life that he'd actually paid money to have Legolas delivered to him. He was terrified that the elf was going to despise him for what he'd done and he would once more be left alone and lonely. Only this time, it would be far worse, because he had fallen in love with the blonde beauty.
Running a hand distractedly through his hair, Viggo began his tale. “I have to explain a bit about my life first. It all has relevance, I promise. Will you listen until I finish?”
“I will listen,” Legolas said solemnly.
“I discovered, at a fairly young age, that I had a certain talent for seeing opportunities that others had missed.” Viggo stared off into the distance for a moment before returning his eyes to the steady blue gaze of the being who held his heart. “I was barely out of high school before I closed my first deal and had my first million by the time I was 21. At the time, I had my whole life ahead of me, and felt it would be a simple matter to find someone to share that life with, once I was more secure in the career I had chosen.”
“Unfortunately, by the time I was ready to find a partner to settle with, the men I was interested in were blinded by my position in society and my wealth. I tried several times, but each time, the man I thought actually loved me for me and not what I could give him proved to be only interested in my money. The same money that had become less and less important to me the more I accumulated.” Viggo sighed and looked down at his hands twisted together in his lap.
“Five years ago, I had all but given up hope of ever finding someone to share my life with. I was more or less resigned to living a lonely life. But then I had a chance meeting with a business associate.” Viggo swallowed hard, this was the hardest part to explain. He hoped Legolas would forgive him for what he was about to reveal. “He told me how he had bought himself a young man to share his bed and suggested that I do the same. His thinking was that at least I would have someone clean to fuck, if nothing else. He told me I should just forget about love, men like he and I were never going to find it.”
“You buy and sell people in this world?” Legolas asked in astonishment. He felt ill at the very thought that his friend would have even considered such a thing. “But you did not do this.”
“I wish that I could say I hadn't,” Viggo said with resignation, aware that every word he spoke from that moment on would drive Legolas further and further away from him. “To my shame, I did listen to him, and I took the phone number that he gave me. I made that phone call five years ago, explaining in detail what I wanted and what I was prepared to pay for it. Every six months I would get a phone call, telling me what progress if any had been made in filling my request.”
“But you did not purchase someone, surely?” Legolas asked almost hesitantly. He did not want to think ill of this man who attracted and aroused him so.
“Please, Legolas, just listen. This is already so hard for me to say.” Viggo gripped his hands tightly together to keep from reaching for the elf. He longed to hold the slender body in his arms and tell him how much he loved him, regardless of how they had met.
Legolas nodded silently, suddenly afraid of what he would hear.
“One day, I got a phone call. Beyond all expectation, every one of my requirements had been filled. Arrangements were made, and the delivery would take place as soon as the funds were transferred.”
The elf became very still, terrified of what would come next.
“You were the person that had been found for me, Legolas,” Viggo whispered. “I wish I could have met you under other circumstances, but I didn't. I paid money, and had you delivered to me. I am sorry.”
“No.” The one word denial was barely audible as it crossed the elf's lips. His stricken eyes begged Viggo to tell him it wasn't true. “You cannot mean this! I am a prince of the Greenwood. A warrior. I am not a pleasure slave. You did not buy me. Tell me you did not!” The elf was so distraught, he reverted back to his own language, unable to think in English.
“I am sorry,” Viggo said as his eyes filled with tears. “I wish I could say I didn't, but the fact remains that I did do that, Legolas. It does not excuse what I have done, but I did not know you when you were brought to me. If I had, I would never dare to think I could own one such as you. IF I had not been so lonely, I never would have considered this to be a viable solution; I do not wish to own anyone. Even now, I don't think that I own you. I had hoped that we could become friends, and that eventually, if you wished it, we could become more than friends. I beg you to forgive me, my friend.”
“You cannot own me!” Legolas declared, jumping to his feet. “I would rather die than be owned, by anyone!”
“You would have died!” Viggo's heart-felt cry rocked Legolas to the core and he fell back onto the couch. “I know the story of how you were found. If I hadn't paid to have you brought here, you would have been sold to someone else, someone with fewer scruples than I. You would have died, Legolas.” The last sentence came out brokenly as Viggo bent over his knees, the pain he felt at the betrayed look on the elf's face more than he could bear. “Someone else wouldn't have cared that you needed the trees to live. You would have been locked away and used to satisfy the carnal desires of your owner. I know who would have claimed you if I hadn't.”
The tear-streaked face raised once more to look into the hurt, bewildered gaze of the one he had come to love. “I know that you probably hate me right now, and I will release you, as soon as I am sure you can survive in this world. All I ask is that some day, maybe, you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
Legolas watched the man in front of him, feeling the waves of shame and remorse that rolled off him. A part of him wanted to tell Viggo it was alright, but there was a bigger part of him that was hurt and humiliated that the man he'd thought was as noble as Aragorn could be so base as to purchase another living being.
The elf's mind returned to the night of his arrival in this world and he shuddered slightly. He had no doubt that if the plain man had not recognized his worth, he would be dead right now. But did that make it acceptable for Viggo to purchase him like he was a cask of wine or a horse of the Rohirrim? At last he turned his gaze on the silently weeping man. “You have given me much to consider, Viggo. With your permission, I will go and think long on these matters.”
“You don't need my permission, Legolas. You are free to go where ever you wish in my home.”
“But I do need your permission, you are my owner, are you not?”
Viggo flinched visibly at the calmly spoken words. “Legolas... you are free to go where you will within the house. I only ask that you not leave the house until you have made your decision. I will wait for you to return with your decision.”
Silently, the elf rose and walked from the room without a backward glance. He desperately wanted to go out to the woods. His heart and soul were in such turmoil he needed the soothing murmur of the trees. He was halfway up the stairs to his room when he stopped, then turned and made his way silently down again and out the door. He would not go far into the woods, but he needed the comfort of the trees. If Viggo could not understand that, then he was not the man Legolas had grown to know.
Viggo watched out the library window as the slender figure ran through the rain. When Legolas disappeared among the trees, he leaned his head against the window pane and let the tears run unhindered down his face.