Title: Broken Patterns
Author: Nightrider
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Slash Aragorn/Legolas
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Tolkien. I merely borrowed them for a short while.
The hand crashed down again on the unprotected, once pale, backside. No cries were heard. No groans of pain were uttered,only silence. And the elf found comfort in that. He could not be broken. He would not give leave to sounds of pain or weakness. He was above that. He was better than that. He was an elf, by the Valar! He was bound by duty and honor, committed to this quest, committed to the protector of the Ringbearer. It was because of this commitment that he found himself here in the first place.
"Why Legolas?" Aragorn asked softly while continuing to slam his sword calloused hand into the creamy cheeks of his elf. "Why must we continue to do this?" The answer was exactly what he expected, more silence. Aragorn raised his muscled thigh higher, further exposing the tender skin. A flurry of painful slaps connected with the already burning skin, causing the lithe body under his assault to go rigid,but never did he squirm. There were no pleas for mercy, no begging, there was nothing. The only sound that was heard on this dark night, was the painful, repeated sound of absolution,of atonement for a wrong that was slowly being made right.
Estel stopped his vicious assault and waited, silently praying that his companion would speak. That he would offer some explanation for his behavior. That he would utter any sound.
"Are we finished?" was the only question that greeted his inner request.
Sighing deeply, Aragorn rubbed his aching palm across his face. "Yes Legolas, we are done here."
The elf jerked to his feet and yanked his clothing into place. His stoic behavior was given away by his eyes. In those endless pools of glassy blue water was pain. Such great pain that Aragorn could not stand to look into them and he berated himself for holding the powerful elf down in the first place.
"Talk to me, old friend. Tell me what ails you," Aragorn pleaded. This behavior was most strange. It was not like his normal compassionate friend whose life and energy could reach for miles. On his darkest days, Aragorn could find cheer and peace in this zealous elf. But tonight?there was no cheer. There was no zeal for life. There was nothing. Only pain,such great, searing pain.
"Tell me what makes you look this way," He reached with his hand to graze the pale cheek.
Legolas jerked his head up and stared into the eyes of the man, the man who just beat him, the man that proclaimed to love him, the man that had shown no such love mere moments ago. There was no love or comfort after that spanking, wasn't that supposed to happen? Is that not the pattern for discipline? Was he no longer worthy of that comfort?
"You see what you want to see."
Then Aragorn stood, shocked, as his friend took to the forest running with power and grace as only an elf possessed. Took the forest to find the comfort that Estel had not given him.
He didn't know how long he ran for. He knew nothing but the exhaustion that his body felt. The physical and emotional exhaustion that threatened to overtake him at any moment,and yet he ran. He only wanted to lose himself in the vast evergreen forest. The trees sang songs of comfort and peace to his ears as his legs churned below him and yet his body would not respond to that sound. Even the sweet melody of the wood would give him no reprieve this night.
The elf eventually stopped. Caring not to go any further. He could not run from this. These emotions would plague him like a disease to any place he sought for solace. Then he began to climb.
Higher and higher his agile body took him, as his woodland blood screamed for the peace these massive beings should provide. So much confusion, so much anger. There was no hate. He could not hate one that he loved so much. It was simply not possible. Did Estel not truly understand what he had done? What vital part of their ritual he had broken? Or perhaps he no longer cared.
Curling up on himself, he found bitter warmth and a restless sleep proclaimed him.
*********************
"Legolas!" Aragorn called yet again into the black night. Hours he had searched, desperately seeking his lost elf. He left the fellowship to the protection of Boromir and Gimli. His mind was a captive audience to the lone elf that stood hidden somewhere in this bleak night. He could not have wandered this far,he wouldn't have, would he? He would not leave the protective keep of the fellowship and go this far into the unknown territory, would he? Nay, Legolas knew better than that! Didn't he? Aragorn offered yet another silent prayer to anyone that might be listening to protect his wayward elf.
"Legolas!" This time it came out more as a scream than a call. He had to find him. It wasn't an option. Aragorn could not complete this quest without him. Nay, he WOULD not complete this quest without him. He WOULD find him, he WOULD fight whatever demon was plaguing the mind of his beloved companion?and he WOULD win. Whatever the cost.
A final time his resonate voice echoed into the silent night and this time a response was granted. A muffled response that human ears could not decipher.
Legolas had heard him call. He had trained himself to wake at any sound of distress from his fellows. He heard Estel's pain, he'd heard him call his name through the woods over and over again. Yet he could not bring himself to answer. His silent cries of pain were not answered when he was bended over the Ranger's lap.
"Legolas? Answer me if you are out there!"
He was much closer now. Legolas could hear his light footsteps crunching on the dried leaves that collected on the forest floor. He could hear his labored breathing announcing his forthcoming. He could hear the salty droplets of sweat collecting and dripping from his forehead. An elf could hear many things, yet he could not hear the sound of a breaking heart.
Aragorn knew that his beloved elf lay hidden high in the trees. He knew that comfort was sought out on this depressing night in the limbs of the evergreen forest. He knew that there was no force he could physically evoke that would bring the elf back into his safe keeping. What could he possibly do to bring the elf down from the high place? He had caused the elf to take flight, so shouldn' t he be able to bring him back, to bring him home? Nay, he was but one man. One pathetic man that could not look after a sole, broken hearted elf. So it had come to this.
"Legolas,please," he began softly. "This is not the way. You must talk to me. You must listen to my words. You must, you must," That was when the realization hit, much like icy water trickling down his spine. There was nothing that this elf must do. By choice the elf had given himself to embark on this quest. He had been willing to lay his life down to see this through to whatever ending. He was not bound by a ring of power nor by a command from some higher being. He was there based solely upon his honor. Based upon something he had believed in. And perhaps now the elf's choice had changed. Perhaps no longer was the elf willing. Perhaps no longer he believed. Feeling the dejection and the weight of his years Aragorn spoke again. "Nay, there is nothing you must do. I'm truly sorry old friend. I'm truly sorry." And with a heavy heart, bruised and bleeding, he turned to go back to a broken fellowship.
Salty, silver tears leaked from shimmering eyes as the elf sat alone staring down at one who was once called brother. No longer worthy of Aragorn's trust. No longer worthy of Aragorn's precious energy and dwindling time. No longer worthy of belonging to a fellowship of such brave creatures, no longer worthy of this life.
A lone tear betrayed its creator and fell from the pale cheeks, downward falling from the sky above to splash upon a weary outstretched hand. Aragorn froze, breathless and entranced, staring at the glistening droplet slide from his dirty fingers down to disappear in the ground.
"Don't leave me."
And those three words that were uttered so softly spoke volumes to the man below.
As if afraid to breathe, Aragorn stood motionless below clinging to the knowing fact that his charge was close to him. Breaking from the silent spell, Aragorn looked towards the massive greenery above backed only by the midnight sky.
"Come to me," Aragorn called softly. There was no demands in his tone, no authority left to be mustered, only a desolate plea for mercy.
He would have not been able to see the elf if not for the pale hair shimmering in the illumiscent moonlight.
Wrapping his arms tighter around himself, Legolas buried his face into his knees not wanting to hear the man beckoning him below. Calling forth to everything he knew, he willed Aragorn to disappear. To fade away and leave him to his wretched solitude. He could not go to him. It was not that simple. He was no longer deserving of such comfort and love.
"Why do you berate yourself so?" Aragorn asked gently, knowing the inner turmoil all to well. He was all too familiar with the inner search to find oneself.
Before thinking Legolas spoke, confirming his presence vocally. "Why do you stay to hear it?"
"Because I would never leave you." Those words left parched lips before coherent thought caught up with them. He had been very willing to leave mere moments ago. Willing to leave his elf in this dark wood, to leave him behind to fend for himself, perhaps for all eternity.
A hallow laugh drifted down from the sky, so very hallow and empty echoing in the forest and filling Aragorn's heart with more pain than any human could bear. And yet he bore it, every single ounce of the burning sorrow and grief, because he found himself deserving.
"You and I both know the truth behind that statement, future king." Sarcasm dripped from the elven tongue and was salt in a festering, open wound that both possessed.
Aragorn knew not what to do. He was not prepared for this. He would never in his life be prepared for this. There were no words that could fix this. His precious elf was hurt, so very wounded and so very out of his grasp. Weak and broken, Aragorn slid to the bottom of the tree and pulled his knees to his trembling chest. Waves of pain so great coerced the two that even the very tree quivered at the intensity of the grief and suffering.
Time passed and both sat, licking their own wounds, each at war with their hearts. At war with duty and honor. At war with friendship. But most of all, at war with a love that stood challenged. It had been challenged and it was losing the fight.
Finally, some sense of logic invaded the plagued mind. "You must go back Aragorn."
"I will not leave you."
"Tis not about me. The fellowship needs you." The mind spoke volumes and yet the heart resisted the urge to scream.
"I will not leave you." Such a simple sentence, and yet so much was conveyed. Aragorn would not make the same mistake again. To many unanswered mistakes have been made on this night. Too much pain had gone untended.
"I will not come down." Such great stubbornness, stemming from such awesome self loathing. Weakness has often been hidden by stubbornness.
"I'll wait." And wait he would, till the very day starvation or age came collect him.
"I will not be broken."
Aragorn sighed deeply and tilted his head back to stare into the blackness above. "Legolas,we are both broken."
Glancing down, Legolas honed his keen eyes upon the man below. So much pain was evident on the weary shoulders of the man huddled at the base of the massive tree. And then a new emotion rose from the inner most depths of the elf and fought for dominance, rage. A warm, searing anger began to swell in the graceful elf. Surely Estel was not broken! It was just not possible, was it?
"You must go back Aragorn." This was no longer a plea or a question. It was a demand.
"No." Infuriated, Legolas cursed every human he could think of for their blatant stupidity and insolent stubbornness.
"Go back to the Man of Gondor, surely you will find comfort in his embrace. The Dwarf delights in your presence, most assuredly you will have his approval. The Wizard, Estel, he needs you by his side." Not even bothering to pause, Legolas continued his verbal tirade. Listing every member of the fellowship,save himself. "And what of the hobbits, they delight in your strength and ability. They will cuddle around you and make you feel whole again. And what of Frodo, have you forgotten what you swore to him? Do you not see how he relies on you? Truly you are not that blind!"
And then the realization hit Aragorn, like the sun rising on anew of a fresh morn. Comfort, the elf had mentioned comfort and approval while ticking off each companion belonging to the whole. And he knew what he had missed, what vital part of their ritual he had thoughtlessly left out. While Legolas lay across his lap, exposed and vulnerable, no comfort or love had healed his sobbing heart. Legolas offered no verbal sobs, no outward sign of distress, those sobs were on the inside, so very hidden and buried deep below a stoic exterior. Be damned his pride. He had missed those sobs, those tears of grief dripping from an exposed heart.
"I am no longer worthy of those things." Aragorn mumbled softly, so very timidly that only sensitive elven ears could detect.
Descending from the lofty heights above, as if his legs worked upon their own accord, Legolas fell down to the earth, leapt from the sky downward to the earth below and landing fully erect, towering above the man.
"Then you are not the man I have known!"
Aragorn looked up into the blazing eyes of the very one he had wronged. The one he had left distressed and broken earlier this night, the one that had put such enormous trust into him. The one that he had failed.
"Tell me how I can make this right," Aragorn pleaded, unable to remove his gaze from the fiery pools of blue.
"You can get off the ground!" Such rage oozed from the graceful being that for once Aragorn found himself in a new place, he was afraid of this elf.
Fear was not a new emotion to the man. But never before had he feared this elf. Never before had it even been a fleeting thought in the back of his mind. Knowing he had little choice, Aragorn forced his battered body to raise, to meet the smoldering gaze of the creature that stood, wild, in front of him.
Neither spoke, neither knew what to say. Legolas felt as if he was being ripped in pieces. His body craved this man's affection, his touch, yet his mind spoke out against it. He had been punished. He had been wounded. Yet there was no comfort afterwards for his wandering soul. So had the lesson truly been learned?
Legolas openly stared at the man that stood before him,the man that was no longer whole. But what was missing? What could possible cause Estel such grief? What vital piece had fallen through the clutches of the man's powerful grasp?
Aragorn could no longer stand the ethereal stare of the elf that hovered beside him. He was not needed here. Aragorn opened his arms in a weak protest, a protest of himself, a protest against his own stupid mistake and a lone tear escaped the glistening green eyes and made its slow, lazy path down the marred cheek and those open arms found themselves suddenly completely full of a tremorous elf.
Being completely unprepared for the impact that the flying elf caused, Aragorn stumbled back and the ground came rushing up to meet them. But the union was never broken. Clawing at each other, desperately seeking a way to make their bodies closer, the pair rolled upon the damp earth. The sacredness of touch provided a healing balm across emotional abrasions.
With arms and legs intertwined, clinging to each other with strength and energy that neither possessed mere moments ago. Finally settling, Aragorn had Legolas laid across the entire length of his body, matching forehead to forehead, hand to hand, chest to chest, but most importantly, beating heart to beating heart.
One calloused hand wrapped around the trembling, lithe shoulders and the other pressed into the flaxen, silk covered head. A torrent of tears broke through the elf's body, tears and sobs so powerful that hysterics became a very real possibility.
"Breathe, just please remember to breathe."
Over and over those instructions were uttered. As if remembering his own bodily demands, Aragorn forced himself to lower his shallow, stricken breaths. He would be of no use to either of them, dead from oxygen depletion.
"Do you know how much I truly love you? Do you know to how much I need you? How much I care?" Further guttural sobs answered his gentle questions.
No signs of calming were in the distance future. Shifting them and propping himself up against the same tree trunk that held him during his sorrow, he grasped his breaking elf closer to himself. Crushing the graceful, pale body against his own and holding for all he was worth. Over and over again, kisses found themselves securely planted atop the pale head and moistened cheeks.
"My fair prince, peace now. Now is a time for peace. Listen to me."
The only response he was granted was the slight turning of a pointed ear, ahh hope! Blessed hope of a mending heart!
"I am sorry, so very sorry."
More broken sobs escaped the shaking elf. Caring not for his ability to breathe any longer, Aragorn used his full strength and crushed the elf to his breast. Then one hand found itself to the heaving chest. Applying pressure every few seconds, the motion signified the time to release each quivering shallow breath.
"There you go, easy now, easy. " Aragorn murmured into the titled ear. "Slow my beautiful elf, slow. I've got you now."
Time passed and the labored breathing calmed. Shudders no longer plagued the slender body. Pain no longer screamed its way through each vein. Agony no longer ran its tortured path through the soul. Yet Aragorn's grip did not lesson. He would never again release this elf. Never again would Legolas fall away from his keep.
"Never again will you run from me."
That statement shocked the cuddling form below and an eyebrow tilted slightly. Glistening blue eyes rose to meet the expectant gaze of the man above. Such depth that gaze held, both falling effortlessly into the expanse of the moment, in the vastness of the feelings each held.
"Then don't give me a reason to run." A hand rose from the quivering chest and moved up to circle the back of the pale neck once again crushing the form to him as if afraid he would disappear.
"Many mistakes I have made, Legolas. Too many mistakes."
"Are you suddenly perfect Estel?" A slight smile broke into those words. A small voice of intelligence escaped in the light tone. Neither was perfect. In fact both were far from that.
"Nay my darling prince, I will never be that. I do not wish it wrong you again." Sighing deeply, a delicate arm found its way around the body of the Ranger.
Knowing nothing but trust, true loyal trust beyond all relevant reason, and the elf said the words that the man desperately needed to hear. "I forgive you Estel."
A half sob found a path outward from the healing heart of the man and found itself presented to the elf. And that muffled sob spoke of truth, the truth of how close they both came to losing something precious. To losing the hope, the faith, the promise they had made so long ago.
He was not the only that needed comfort on this night. Rolling them both over with amazing strength and agility, Legolas found his way to the bottom of the limber pile, with Aragorn secured in his arms atop. Burying his face in the glorious mane of silky hair and breathing deeply, peace was found. A deep, healing peace that soothed hearts and mended broken bridges of pain.
"I do so cherish you Estel,you are so very cherished and loved." Limber fingers massaged and rested upon weary shoulders. And then a pronounced chin was lifted and forced to meet those watery pools of aqua light. And feather light kisses graced both eyelids.
As much as a healing elf needed the comfort and acceptance, as did a weary man.
"The feeling is mutual my beloved friend, it is quite mutual," Aragorn said softly.
"Aye, I know. I have always known."
Finally Aragorn peeled himself away from the warm body and forced himself to stand. He felt better than he had in many nights. In a silent question, a hand reached down to grasp slender fingers and lift the owner to its feet. Both knew it was time to go back and Aragorn knew he would not be going alone.
The issue had been dealt with. Both were whole again. Legolas made no protest or complaints as he followed his companion into the night. If anything, his step was light and as graceful as ever.
"I would have come up there eventually."
An eyebrow rose and found itself perched high above the gentle features that were marred by sarcasm. Eventually he decided that Aragorn was not lying. He would have come up there eventually.
And yes, the sword calloused hand never left the slender bow-wielding fingers, even after they reached camp. The pattern that had been broken on this night was healing in trust. In faith. As they often say in tales of grandeur and adventure alike, patterns that are broken, habits that have gone astray, shall only be mended in love. Love has mended. Love had made them whole again.
THE END
