Midnight Encounter by Larien Elengasse

[Reviews - 0]

Printer

Table of Contents


- Text Size +
Story notes: WARNING: Mild foreplay between a man and an elf.

Inspired by how good PJ's Legolas and …omer looked together on film. Yes, I'm shallow that way. Set in late Third Age, during the War of the Ring – a mix of movie and book-verse.

Feedback: If you care to share, larienelengasse@yahoo.com
Helm's Deep had been hard fought and narrowly won. Led by his uncle and the ranger from the north, Rohan's forces had held back the tide until reinforcements arrived from the Westfold. …omer had watched in amazement as trees came to life, crushing the orcs that fled into their ranks. He had seen many things in his life: orcs, wizards, flying lizards, wolves the size of small horses, dwarves, and even elves - well, one elf anyway. But trees that travel great distances and kill orcs? He had to admit, he was amazed.

Safely back in Edoras, after having warm baths and their bellies filled with roasted meats and ale, he watched his men carouse their good fortune and celebrate the valor of their fallen friends. He sat in a tall chair, watching his sister offer the ranger a drink. The Dúnadan graciously accepted it, gave her a warm smile, and then moved away toward Gandalf. Turning his head, he watched the hobbits dance on the tabletops and sing songs from their homeland; if he had not known better he would almost have forgotten they were all poised on the brink of destruction.

His gaze moved from the cheerful hobbits to the boisterous dwarf and his reserved friend, the elf. …omer had often heard tales about elves growing up; the mysterious beings were shrouded in mystery, and only a few in Rohan had ever seen more than a fleeting glimpse of one. Sometimes, when they traveled through the Anduin Vale, he had thought he saw movement in the trees as they passed the forest known as Dwimordene. It was said that an elf witch dwelt there who enchanted all who entered, and none who did ever returned.

That tale had nearly become the cause of a dangerous fight between him and the elf he had come to know as Legolas. Now that …omer had begun to know the woodland elf prince, he began to have a different opinion of elves altogether. While Legolas said little, his character was borne out in his actions. He had fought tenaciously at Helm's Deep; indeed, the elf had saved his life, and Legolas' loyalty to Aragorn could not be questioned. As a warrior, …omer had to admire the pure elegance and skill with which Legolas fought; the elf was as deadly as he was mysterious.

Gimli said something to Legolas, and …omer thought he detected a slight upward quirk of the elf's lips that, if he was not looking at Legolas, he might have described as a smile. He had never seen the elf smile, nor had he heard him laugh. In their short time together, …omer had only seen two expressions on the elf's face: thoughtful serenity and fearsome wrath in battle. As the elf left the hall, …omer felt compelled to follow, so he did.

Setting his goblet on a table, he used all the skill he had acquired in becoming the Third Marshal of the Riddermark, and followed Legolas outside and down the path toward the stables. He kept a distance between them so that the elf would not hear his footsteps. Peeking around the door, he saw Legolas stroking Arod's muzzle and softly murmuring something to the horse in Elvish. He watched as the elf pressed his forehead to Arod's broad head and saw again what he thought was a smile.

"Do you always follow the guests of your realm?"

He flinched, sighed, and then stepped from behind the stable door. "I do not mean offense, nor do I think you are up to mischief."

Legolas continued looking at Arod, even as he spoke. "Then why do you follow me?"

"I . . . I was..."

"Curious?" the elf finished.

"Well, yes, if the truth be told."

"Do you still think I am a spy for a witch?"

He felt his cheeks grow hot. "No. You have proven that you are an ally to my people."

Legolas turned and looked at …omer. "What is it that you wish to know?"

He looked at the mysterious elf as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "I am not sure. Everything, I suppose."

Legolas laughed, it was a warm and rich sound that caught him off guard.

"Well, I hope you have quite a bit of time then." The elf stroked Arod's muzzle then moved toward him. "Two thousand years makes for many tales to tell."

"Two thousand years?" he asked in amazement.

"Yes, two thousand. We elves live long lives if they are not cut short by violence."

"I do know a little about elves; for instance, I know that you are immortal. It is just that you look and seem so youthful."

"I seem no older than you," Legolas replied.

"Yes; it seems as if we would be the same age."

"When you had been alive for 3 years, you were beginning to talk, run, and explore on your own, yes?"

"Aye."

"I was barely able to walk. Elves' bodies mature much slower than that of the Secondborn. It is one reason why we live so long. So while I have been alive for more than two thousand years, my body looks no older than yours."

…omer nodded. He had much to learn about elves if he and this prince were to be friends. "Would you tell me of your homeland?"

Legolas smiled and …omer found himself smiling in return. "I would be honored, …omer, Son of …omund. Come, let us find a place more comfortable to share stories of our lives."

…omer followed Legolas out of the stable and back toward Meduseld.




After a lengthy conversation about the land known as Mirkwood, they sat in silence for a short while. Then Legolas spoke.

"There are no stars this night," he said quietly. "I have not seen them for weeks now."

"Why is that?" …omer asked, his gaze also fixed on the sky.

"The Dark Lord hides them. He seeks to shroud all the world in shadow."

"We will not let him."

Legolas smiled slightly. "No, we will not."

…omer turned his gaze toward the prince. "Why is it that you are alone on this journey?

Legolas furrowed his brow slightly. "I am not alone. I am with Aragorn and Gimli, and I am with you."

…omer felt his cheeks grow hot again. "I meant why are there no others of your own folk."

"Ah. Lord Elrond chose eight of us to accompany Frodo; I was the only elf chosen."

"Why did he not send an army?"

"What you really mean to ask is why is there not an army of elves going to war with us."

…omer looked at the ground. "Aye."

"Each year that passes, fewer of us remain in Middle-earth. My own realm is but a shadow of what it once was because so many have left and sailed into the West. Much has come to pass since the end of the Second Age, and many elves felt betrayed by men because of the actions of Isildur."

"Because he kept the One Ring."

"Yes. There were many of my people who died during the war of the Last Alliance. My father lost his father, and two-thirds of those who fought with him. The Noldor lost their king and many other brave warriors. The Elves of Lórien lost their lord, Amdír, as well. And the Dúnedain also lost many great men, as did the dwarves who aided the Alliance. It was a heavy price to pay only to have Isildur fall prey to the wickedness of the One Ring."

…omer nodded. "You speak true, and if it were me I suppose I would have made the same decision."

"Lord Elrond did not send so few because he does not care about what happens to these lands. He shares the blood of the Secondborn, and he does care about men. He felt that to send an army to Mordor with the Ring in its possession would be to court disaster, and I agree with his decision. That is why so few of us were sent; he believed we stood a better chance if we could approach in secret."

"He sounds like a good battle strategist."

"He is one of the finest there ever was."

"You admire him."

"Yes, I do. He is the wisest among all of us save one."

"You speak of the Lady Galadriel."

Legolas smiled; it was something …omer could get used to seeing. "Yes. She is ancient and wise and very, very beautiful."

…omer smiled. "That is two things we have in common."

Legolas looked at …omer. "Which are?"

"Love of beautiful women and skill in war craft."

Legolas reached out and patted …omer's knee. "A warrior is a warrior no matter where he is from. Now, I shall retire. We should rest as much as possible, who knows when we will have this opportunity again."

…omer looked down at the elf's hand as it rested on his knee. It was both strong and unexpectedly elegant, especially when he compared it to his own rough hands. "Rest well, my friend," he said, the endearment coming to him naturally, as if he had known Legolas all his life.

"You as well," the elf replied, rising from the bench and disappearing around the corner.




Gandalf left Edoras the following morning, riding with Pippin to Minas Tirith on Shadowfax. Aragorn remained behind with Gimli and Legolas as Rohan prepared to ride to war. It had been uneasily quiet that afternoon and …omer had busied himself directing his riders in their preparations. The elf stood vigil, his eyes always watching the eastern sky as he stood upon the wide veranda of Meduseld.

As night fell and …omer's men retired to the barracks, the third marshal found himself standing in the doorway to his bedchamber, watching the hallway outside his room. Last night, the elf had passed this way as he walked to his own sleeping quarters that he shared with Aragorn and Gimli. …omer hoped he would pass this way again.

Legolas felt …omer's watchful gaze even before the man saw him emerge from the shadows. He knew what …omer wanted and he was not opposed to it. A warrior's life could be a hard and lonely one, and sometimes one needed the company of another who understood that life. He passed by …omer's door, feigning that he did not see the man's gaze. Feeling …omer's battle-toughened hand upon his wrist, he stopped and gazed into his dark eyes, then entered the man's bedchamber without saying a word.

…omer closed and latched the door behind him and Legolas moved to stand by the fireplace. Looking at the man as he approached, he asked, "What do you want?"

"I do not know," …omer answered.

"I think you do. Have you ever lain with a man before?"

"Once or twice; I prefer women's softness to men's roughness."

Legolas smiled. "But I am not a man, nor am I a woman."

"What are you like?"

"I suppose I am like a little of both. I am older, stronger, and faster than you will ever be, …omer. I may not look thus, but I assure you I am."

"I believe you," …omer answered quietly. "I have seen you fight; I know well your strength and your skill."

Legolas smiled. "Would you like to see me and touch me?"

"I would."

Legolas removed his clothing then stood before …omer naked in the firelight. He watched the man's hungry gaze look him over, then …omer moved closer and tentatively touched his bare chest.

"You have almost no hair on your body, and no scars," …omer murmured, as his fingers lightly touched the elf's flesh.

"Elves heal quickly and completely. I assure you, I have been wounded in the past."

"Your skin is so soft, like a woman's, but your body is hard like a man's," he said, as he moved his hands over the elf's shoulders, arms, and torso.

"As I said, I seem like a little of both."

"Like the best of both," …omer said softly as he grew a little bolder in his perusal, his hands moving lower down the elf's body.

Legolas chuckled softly then purred in appreciation of the man's attentions. "It is kind of you to say so."

"Gods, you smell so good," …omer said as he moved closer.

"Come, …omer, you do not seem like the type to be so cautious. I am not delicate; you need not handle me as if I were."

…omer slid his hand behind Legolas' neck and drew their lips close together. "Do you not like my touch?" he asked huskily.

Legolas gazed at him from beneath heavy-lidded eyes. "Actually, I do. I just feel the need to reassure you that I am not fragile."

"I could never believe that you are," …omer murmured before pressing a possessive kiss to Legolas' lips. The sound of the elf's deep, rich, honeyed voice moaning into the kiss caused his body to thrum with desire. His lips were so soft and warm, his skin was like silk and his muscles like iron. The elf's hair, soft and pale gold like the grasslands of the Westfold, was heavy in his hands, and as he caressed the curve of Legolas' ear with his thumb, he felt the elf shiver in response. Releasing Legolas' mouth, he heard a shuddering sigh escape the elf's perfect lips. Everything about Legolas was perfect.

"Well done, …omer," Legolas murmured as he pressed his lips to the man's beard. "I think you and I will be well suited to one another." He moved his hands from …omer's broad shoulders to his chest. "Now, it is my turn to see and touch you."

There was nothing about …omer that was like a woman. His body was toned, tan, hard, and dotted with scars. Rich, reddish-brown, soft hair grew on his arms, legs, chest, and groin, and Legolas could not resist the temptation to rake his fingers through it. "We have another thing in common, …omer," Legolas murmured as he nuzzled the man's hairy chest.

"What is that?" …omer breathed, trying to control the timbre of his voice.

"You have never lain with an elf, and I have never lain with a man."

"Then this is a first for both of us."

"Something we will remember fondly, I think."

"Of that, I have no doubt. Would you warm my bed this night?"

Legolas took …omer's face in his hands and he smiled. "It would be an honor, my friend."

For just a moment, …omer felt like a young boy with his first crush. Both the endearment and the way Legolas looked at him caused his heart to skip. He led the elf to his bed, his body trembling with anticipation of what was to come.
You must login (register) to review.