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Under the Evening Sky
ĎHeís looking at me again,í thought Legolas as the group climbed up the rocky slope. ĎHe has been doing so all day.í
He dared a quick look behind him and caught a glimpse of fiery hair and equally tempered eyes before he turned his head back. The intensity with which those eyes looked at him sent a shiver through his spine. Unconsciously, he accelerated his pace and moved towards the head of the group near Gandalf. The increase in distance and bodies between them eased the tension in his shoulders somewhat, but the knowledge of Boromirís unexpected interest in him troubled his mind. After their departure from Rivendell, the man hadnít given the elf any more notice than he gave any of the other members of the company, but for the past few days his manner towards him changed. He subtly sought to stay close to Legolas at times only to retreat and shun him at others. He wasnít so obvious about his staring that the others took notice but Legolas could still feel it burning into him, as if it wanted to reach into his soul and discover his secrets. The elf, unsure what to think about this sudden change in behavior from his companion and a little unnerved by it, tried to keep away from him. Neither observer or observed attempted to initiate any form of communication in which the growing tension might be resolved.
Night fell once again upon the land and the moon cast its pale light over the lush vegetation and the creatures who slept among it. However, not all of them were able to find rest. Legolas lied still on his mat, eyes open, pretending to slumber, but his mind was too uneasy to repose. Slowly, he turned his head to see Gimli sitting at the opposite side of the camp at his post as lookout, his back towards him.
Legolas, moving with all the grace of his people, got up and silently crept away. His light steps made no sound on the forest floor. He walked until he reached a small river which he had spied earlier on their wanderings. He stood immobile for a few moments on the leaf strewn bank then crouched and dipped the tips of his fingers into the cool water. Leisurely, he immersed his whole hand and left it there for a minute, feeling the slight current on his skin. He straightened and with measured movements removed his all of his clothing, leaving them in an unorganized heap on the floor. He threaded his fingers through his hair and undid his braids, allowing the long strands to fall loose at the sides of his face. He entered the translucent water and moved lethargically to the middle of the stream. The refreshing liquid rose to his stomach. Legolas tilted back, closed his eyes, and let his body float with its natural buoyancy. The calming waters soothed his limbs, driving the pressure and strain from the past days from his weary mind. Laying on his makeshift bed, he became one with nature and for a while found rest.
Boromir observed mesmerized from behind the trees. To him the sight of the naked elf floating on the stream was a vision snatched from his fondest dreams. Long, lithe limbs, unmarred, pale skin which glistened with pearl drops of water, each reflecting the moonís light. His silky, blonde mane drifted at the sides of his fine, elven face, imbued with youth that never faded. He was perfection; beauty incarnate.
Boromir moved his body to take a closer look and accidentally crushed a twig under his foot. Legolas, completely attuned to his surroundings, heard. Startled from his reverie, he opened his eyes and quickly submerged his body, hiding it from view. The relaxation achieved moments earlier was replaced by the familiar tension. He searched through the foliage surrounding him, at first glance seeing nothing, but later caught a glimpse of the humanís leather vest. His dark eyes widened.
"Boromir," he said in a surprised tone.
Boromir stepped forward onto the bank.
"Itís me, elf."
Legolas frowned and spoke accusingly.
"You followed me."
Boromir spoke casually, a small smile on his face.
"If oneís companion sneaks off in the middle of the night, it can look very suspicious. I had to make sure you werenít getting into trouble."
"What I do on my own time does not concern you. Now could you please leave so I can have some privacy?"
Boromir didnít hear the last sentence, too captivated by the nude body before him. Legolas noticed his distraction and followed his gaze below the surface of the water. He gasped as he realized that with the clearness of the water Boromir could see every bit of him. He sank until the water lapped at his jaw and tried to cover his exposed skin with his arms. Looking anywhere but at Boromir, he spoke, trying to keep the embarrassment out of his voice.
"Boromir, could you please go so I can get dressed?"
Boromir looked down at the pile of clothes on the floor beside him. He smiled mischievously.
"Why? Are you afraid something might happen? Something you might regret? Or maybe, something that you have been wanting but havenít dared to ask for?"
The last was said in a seductive whisper.
Legolas shivered at the implication behind the words. He glanced up and saw Boromir bend to pick up his discarded shirt and brought it to his nose, taking a whiff of the elfís sweet scent.
"So rich, such a spicy aroma, like the woods from where he comes," he muttered, the desire in his voice undeniable.
He lifted his gaze to the blonde, whose gaze had retreated to the waters once again.
"Boromir," his voice quivering slightly even as he tried to keep it steady. "Please."
Boromir looked dazed for a moment but quickly regained his composure.
"As you wish," he said, dropping the shirt to the floor and turning back from where he came.
After the sounds of Boromirís footsteps were extinguished, Legolas let out a long, pent up breath. He slowly emerged from the water and, without bothering to dry himself off, he put on his clothes. Still shaken, he tried to analyze what had just occurred. Boromir wanted him. It was obvious in every glance, every move the man made. His last words only confirmed the suspicion that had been growing in Legolasís mind. Deep down, he had already known, but the knowledge had been denied, could it be in fear of the feelings that might surface because of it?
ĎAre you afraid something might happen... something that you have been wanting but havenít dared to ask for?í
Boromirís words resounded through his mind and he realized that there might be more than a little truth to them.
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