Raspberries, Lavender and Rara Avis
It’s all becoming frayed….I sit quietly, my voice silent and my eyes staring at nothing. I am falling apart as is the Fellowship…..
My mind plays over and over Moria, the shadow, the fire….
And Gandalf. Gone. I froze at first, stunned to see the wizard disappear into black.
But my senses came back to me when Frodo screamed in agony, ready to thrust himself into that pit after the wizard. I grabbed him and kept him close, not knowing how to calm him….
I saw the pain in Frodo’s eyes, the tears that fell in quite.
I truly thought we would get out of this situation well and together. Poor Gimli…..the dwarf had to quell his own grief over the loss of so many brethren. For some reason, whether from general compassion or a kindred spirit of sorts, I wanted to help in his pain.
But a dwarf needs no solace from man…and men are bad at giving it anyway.
At least, that is what I tell myself now, sitting and listening to the sounds of Lothlo`rien.
I want to be calm here, but it was not to be. My soul is easy to read for *her*.
She saw into my mind and heart, giving me hope…but…..
Galadriel saw my unease as well and showed it to my very core. Now I cannot escape it, ever.
Then there is the matter of Legolas. The elf prince among other elves, the etherealness of them, blinding white and perfection. The night wore on and I could not sleep. I walk around instead, part of me curious and the other part on edge.
This is like a place of legend and myth, unreal yet right in front of me….
“It is a wonderful place.” A light voice said behind me. I sigh.
“Yes…not for me though.” I answer. Legolas stepped in front of me and seemed to study my face.
“You are troubled, son of Gondor….we all are. We all carry this grief.” I laughed, too tired to carry on a pretense. For now, for now I would be myself, damn the morning’s regrets.
“Call me Boromir. Son of Gondor is too proper a title for these times.”
“Alright…Boromir.” Legolas moved to the right, lowering himself to the lush ground. I watched him as he settled, his body automatically going into a pose of sorts. One leg out, the other up to his chest…one arm extended on his knee, the other resting by his side. His eyes glanced upward to mine.
“Join me if you like.” He said. I was amazed at my good fortune….for one night, I will forget the past and future, leave Gondor and the ring behind, just for this moment with him. I sat down beside him, a rock for a back rest. My arm purposefully grazed his as I brought it down.
Just that small contact made my body react, recalling the elf’s arm about me in the caves, preventing me from plummeting to an early grave. Not quite the romantic moment I would have hoped for….
But upon reflection, that arm felt good about my body. Then to actually be pressed against him…..I cleared my throat and Legolas looked over at me, a small smile on his lips.
I decided to take a chance, it maybe the only one I ever get….
I reached my hand over and held the elf’s jaw in my palm, savoring the contact of skin. Legolas did not pull away, which in my heart of hearts, I was expecting.
No, the elf prince watched me, his eyes softer than usual. It was not the studied stare or curious expression I knew so well. It was expectance.
Normally, that would give me pause, time to think on this change in events.
Not tonight, tonight is mine…it can be ours if he so chooses.
I cannot say I am good at the art of romance. But when my body calls for someone, I try to accommodate its’ want.
I took a deep breath and brought his face close to mine, taking in his scent….earthy and fresh. I listened for a sign. His breath had accelerated, the muscles in his neck had tightened.
My lips sought out his, a light kiss that turned into exploration, my tongue going into the warm expanse of his mouth. He groaned against me, his hands on either side of my head, weaving into my hair, keeping our lips together with eager force.
I pulled away, but not for good, only to lavish attention to his exposed neck, to burn a trail of desire on his flesh. My tongue flicked up to his jaw.
He pressed his palms onto my chest, deftly working with my heavy tunic, to remove multiple barriers. I kissed him again, this time more slow, not stopping for air…not needing to breathe, only to drown in Legolas.
My fingers drifted from his face to the small buttons of his garment, pulling it open without restraint. Warm skin met my fingertips, smooth and sleek. I pulled him closer to me, my hands on his back.
I could feel cool air on my chest and the elf’s lips upon my shoulders, each kiss bestowed only increasing my want for him. I snatched his arm and jerked him forward, onto my lowering body. And we kissed more, our mouths becoming bruised. I felt the heat in my groin and opened my legs slightly, allowing the elf’s hips to rest in between them, instinctually bucking into him. I moaned, almost guttural in longing.
His hips pushed into me, like a wave building….My head swam. This was like some dream, a wonderful and amazing dream. His body seemed to flow over me and the surrounding sounds of LothLo`rien were muted now, only water cascading nearby and our breathing.
Legolas kissed his way down my chest and onto my stomach, his tender lips almost tickling the fine hairs and causing my body to shudder.
I watch him with heavy-lidded eyes, watch him as he pulls at my trousers, watch the calm and determined look on his face….how can he be so cool when I feel on fire?
The air on my body only arouses me further. His hand slides up the inside of one leg, then his tongue follows….I know where he is going and I can barely hold myself back from thrusting into his mouth. I pump into him, my hands holding his head steady….I feel release near, so I stop…This is our chance, I will not rush it.
I grab his shoulders and flip us over, I on top and he on the ground. His hair is splayed on the ground, almost translucent against the green. I am transfixed. And he laughs softly.
“What is wrong?” He asks.
“I….I….” The words will not come forth. I cannot say it, even though I feel it throughout my whole being. My eyes shut tight, willing the thought back, but it comes unbidden in my mind.
I love you.
“I know.” Legolas answers. My eyes widened. How could he..? But he did not read my mind. The elf prince smiles and kisses the palm of my hand, bringing it to his lips with care.
“When we leave here, everything will be different Boromir….our time is now, in this place, but not outside. Outside, getting the ring to Mordor must be our goal.”
And I know this to be true. But I want to cry, weep for this moment and its’ briefness, to mourn a love that cannot be.
Legolas sits up and wraps his arms around me tightly.
“Fate gave us now, son of Gondor…I intend to use it.” He says softly and moves my hands down to the waist of his pants. I kiss the top of his head.
“I said to call me Boromir.” I murmur, lowering the elf to the ground once again and removing the rest of his clothes, my eyes devouring his naked form.
A small tear winds its’ way down my cheek and falls upon the elf’s abdomen.
I kiss his body, my eyes shut…memorizing the planes and hollows, relishing his reaction to my touch, my kiss, my hands……I push into him and gasp, the hold tight and warm. My hands are on either side of his head, holding my body up and the elf’s body arches upward, pulling me in further. Deeper. Perfection.
I lower onto him, kissing the tips of his ears, kissing the eyelids…all the while, my lower body is rocking in and out, a steady speed…not too fast, I must not rush this….
He holds me again, keeping our bodies as close as possible. When I move forward, he meets me halfway…blissful connection.
There is small amount of sweat sheen on his body. I lick at it, I want all of him.
He begins to move faster, he is close….I try to hold out for as long as I can, but I too, want to pour into him.
Legolas opens his eyes suddenly, focusing on me with unnerving clarity, then his head is thrown back and his mouth opens slightly, a series of groans that push me over the edge.
It is over.
I lay upon him, his arms still around me. Our bodies feel extremely warm and I do not want to leave, ever….
Then I smell it, not the trees or water, not the grass or our sweat….but so faint, I feel as though it is my imagination.
But it is like flowers, fragrant and inviting…or perhaps a wild fruit
growing near, waiting to be picked and eaten…It surrounds my senses.
I smile to myself, listening to Legolas breathe….it is just you, my elf prince.
It is you I can feel all around me.
And I want to weep once more.
Return to Archive | previous