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Devoid of Love (R) Print

Written by Minx

29 March 2004 | 11953 words

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Chapter 6

Legolas’ mind went into a whirl at those words. First, Faramir loved him. Second -

*Aragorn! *

*Valar! That was eons ago now, when Aragorn had been young and depressed at the knowledge of his true identity. He had sought succour and Legolas had been the one to provide it, for he had held him very dear. And the first time they had both been drunk. That had not been dwarven ale though, it had been ale from a pub in a small village inhabited by humans, near Imaldris.

*These stupid ales! Why do I not learn to avoid them entirely? When the wine from Mirkwood tastes so good, why do I drink these foul things my friends fill themselves with? *

And then Estel had met Arwen, and found his true love, and Legolas had looked on Aragorn quite simply as one enamoured by him. Legolas had always incited amorous feelings in those who beheld him, and Estel had been no exception. They had initially thought themselves in love but had soon realised that all they had shared was few nights of passion waiting to be unleashed. Then why had he remembered him so while making love to the only one who had a place in his heart?

He had bedded others, elves naturally, but as a romp, a fact clear to both parties, neither putting their hearts into it, for their lives were long, and much lay to be done. But after Estel, he realised, he had had no one. Mirkwood had faced increasing threats from the darkness assailing Middle Earth, and he had a duty to do. And a few fifty odd years were nothing to one of his kind. It had been the time for war and action not love.

He tried to remember what it had been like under the trees in a clearing near the village when he had lain with the future king but could not. He tried to remember the feel of Aragorn’s mouth in his mouth, and found he could not even recall what his dear friend’s mouth looked like unless he actually thought about it. And what he recalled was his mouth as of now, with lines, around it, weathered lips, teeth yellowed by that insufferable pipeweed he always smoked. Estel’s mouth could never have been like that at twenty! And the body he saw was of Aragorn, a kingly warrior’s, not of an unhappy young man named Estel. And none of these visions filled him with love as he now came to know it. They filled him with liking, yes, for Estel was a truly dear friend, with a love born out of friendship and loyalty. But not love for the sake of love.

No, when his heart filled up with that strange emotion he was now beginning to recognise, when he felt nothing else mattered as long as his deepest fondest desire was with him, when that desire coursed through his veins like hot metal, he saw his true love.

He saw beautifully sculpted lips that curved down in sadness, pouting lips that made him shiver, a lean figure, but one of a warrior, and grey eyes that held a wisdom rarely seen in his kind and seen more among the Eldar race. Grey orbs tinged with pain and sorrow.

He loved Faramir, now if only he could convince him of that!

Again he went hunting for the man. His search finally brought him to the cool environs of one of the gardens. Standing near the wall that looking out over the city and beyond to the fields of Pelennor, watching the lightening sky, stood the one he sought.


Faramir’s mind was in turmoil. When he had left his room he had been unhappy and angry. Now after walking slowly around the citadel, he had finally reached the garden in search of peace and quiet. Ignoring the early morning chill, he stood in his thin robe, watching the sky.

Legolas made him feel like no other had done before. A simple touch from the elf was enough to send him into ecstasy. Those lips on his – the thought was overwhelming. How much he’d love for Legolas to kiss him. To take him in his arms, to take him – as a lover should not as a drunk with no control . The humiliating experience of ending up in a drunken elf’s bed for the night still weighed on him.

To be made love to by a man for the first time – in a manner more fitting one from a brothel. He had been taken by surprise, with no preparation. And to hear another’s name on your beloved’s lips. He was simply an outlet for the elf to take out his pent-up frustration. The first person he’d come across.

One sudden, brutal thrust and then he’d thought he’d explode from the pain. He was so sore he could not sit at all. His gait had been awkward as his body began to resist his restlessness. Pain constantly reverberated through his body with every move as if to remind him of his humiliating and abject surrender. He needed sleep, most of all he needed rest, but he would not do that. He would not succumb to such weaknesses after making a fool of himself in front of the elf. Such a fool. Seduced by an elf whose breath had reeked of ale.

*But you wanted it. * his heart screamed at him. *And you want more. Go back to him. He’ll make love to you. He’ll kiss you. He’ll caress you with those long fingers of his, and cause you untold ecstasy merely by being near you. *

*And then he’ll leave you. *his mind shouted back, *He’ll leave you lying in the corner, discard you after he’s used you, and then you’ll cry again. Pathetic useless fool. Forget him!*

Faramir gave a ragged sob, and clutched at the wall as if seeking an answer of some sort. What was he to do. Now that he had been with Legolas once, he would never forget it. He wanted more, much more. He wanted to always be near Legolas drink in his sight. But what when he left? Should he live for now, the present, or for the future? Live for the exhilaration of Legolas’ touch, to revel in being made love to that beautiful creature.

Go back to him while he was still under the influence of that accursed ale for there was no other way Legolas could want him.

The elf was so good looking, so perfect, so brave and strong, one of the nine of the famed fellowship, one of those who fought in the war. What could he see in a steward who had no duty now that the king was here, and one with an ugly scarred body, weak and pathetic, unable to defend himself, even from his own heart, one who had fallen in the field of battle. One who had let his brother go in his stead to face untold danger that had proven fatal. One who by falling in battle had made his father kill himself. He was worthless. Why would an elf want him? Why would an elf like Prince Legolas of Mirkwood want him?

He should be grateful to the ale for giving him that opportunity, once the influence wore away, he would be thrown away like an old sock. He could just picture the horror on Legolas’ face when he would regain his sobriety and realise he had wasted his time on him. And the derision, the scorn, and the arrogance of having forced himself upon Faramir. And that Faramir wanted him.

No! He must not give in.

*I will not give in. I will avoid him, and try to forget what it felt like. I must. I must forget. I must. *

“Faramir,” Leoglas said a little apprehensively, seating himself on a bench in the garden.

The steward turned around at the sudden sound, grey eyes bright with unshed tears. Seeing Legolas, he stiffened and then made as if to move, then apparently changed his mind, and stood resolutely at the wall his lips set. He met the elf’s blue eyes seemingly calmly, but to one of the Eldar race the turmoil inside was apparent.

Legolas patted the place next to him, only to flush a little as Faramir stiffened yet again, and refused, a look of pain crossing his features, a slight tremble passing through his body. Legolas had left him in no position to sit on a hard cold stone bench. So, the elf arose, and stood next to his beloved at the wall, hidden from all eyes by the trees in the garden.

“You said you loved me?” he asked the steward abruptly.

There was no response. Over the horizon, a streak of pale light heralded the beginning of the sun’s journey. Legolas sighed, “Estel and I – we – it was many years ago,” he started abruptly.

Faramir’s resolve broke. He simply sank to the ground his head buried in his hands as the thoughts tumbled through his head.

*What do I do? How will I live knowing I can never have him? *

“What do I do?” he sobbed aloud.

“Listen to me,” a soft and gentle voice commanded him. He lifted his head and glanced up.

Legolas was standing right next to him now.

“I love you,” the elf told him.

Faramir shook his head tiredly, “It is not you that speaks, it is the ale.”

Legolas shook his head impatiently, “Nay, that wore off many eons ago. It is I who speak, and I tell you, Faramir of Gondor, that I love you more than anything else on Middle Earth. “

“You called for the king,” Faramir repeated, “Twice.” You kissed me and thought you were kissing Elessar, you made love to me,” he gulped as he uttered the words, even saying that sent a shiver down his spine, “you – you made lo – love to me, but called for Elessar.”

“No, Faramir, it is true Estel and I shared a bed many years ago, but it was only a union of our bodies, not of our hearts. It was borne out of need, not love. Estel is no more than a memory to me now and I to him. If I call for him, it is because of that memory, the only memory I have of giving into passion in many years. I see no other reason. He means nothing but a faded page from days long past. It is over now. My love is for you and only you.”

Faramir shook his head again, “You cannot love me, I am not worthy of even your slightest attention. It is the king you love, and he deserves it, for he is good and lordly and handsome and brave, and I am none of these.”

“Faramir!” Legolas admonished, “I beseech you, listen to me, you are all of that and more. You are gentle and kind, and deserve all the love I can give you. It is I who am not worthy of your love for me, after the things I have done to you.”

“I have said much to you that I should not have, I have hit you and hurt you,” he raised a hand to the other’s bruised face, slowly so that he would not scare him away, “I have treated you shabbily and what I did last night was unpardonable. I treated you without respect and if for that you never want to see me again, I will understand, but I beg of you, do not do that, for I will not be able to bear the thought of not seeing you again!”

Tears rolled down the steward’s face, and Leoglas brushed them away, his own eyes tearing up as his heart tore at the sight of his love’s distraught face.

“When I ask to see the face of my heart’s desire, it is you I see,” he whispered, “it is your grey eyes filled with all the kindness and gentleness in this world that I see, it is your face that I wish to caress, your lips I want in mine.”

“Do you not love me as you said?” Legolas asked him tenderly, tracing one long finger along his lips.

“My heart tells me I do, but my head tells me to stay away from love,” Faramir whispered.

Legolas pushed his finger in a little, and continued exploring Faramir’s lips with it.

“Then listen to your heart, dearest. I love you Faramir, can you not see that?”

“Do not toy with me so, I beg of you, my prince, I can take it no longer,” Faramir said brokenly.

“I do not toy with you,” Legolas took the steward’s troubled face in his hands and stared straight into his eyes, “You have been hurt much, and hurt badly all these years, and I have only hurt you more, but it was only because I knew not how you would feel. Oh love, it is fear of your rejection that forced me to play about like I did. I do love you. Can you not see that?”

“What is love?” Faramir said unhappily, “I fear I do not know it. They say my father loved me for he tried to kill me so I would die with him. But if he loved me, why did he slight me so? I thought Éowyn loved me but she loved another, and when I thought you loved me, you ask for Elessar. What do I do?” he wailed out suddenly.

“My heart feels empty, I am afraid, I do not know, Legolas, I do not know what I wish, except to sleep and wake no more. Oh Legolas, this misery claws at me very day, and I feel I can face it no longer. What do I do? I wish not to live, not to face another day.”

“No, Faramir, do not even speak so even in jest,” Legolas cried out desperately, yearning to envelope the forlorn looking man in his arms and comfort him, but scared that he may move away.

“I have no strength left,” Faramir continued his voice laced with desperation, “I am tired, Legolas, so tired, my head aches constantly, and nightmares plague my sleep everyday.”

“Oh Faramir,” Leoglas sighed softly, putting out a hand and touching the other’s shoulder with it, relieved when he did not move away from the touch, “you are tired for you do not rest. Your headaches come from overwork and lack of sleep. As for your nightmares, I know not what cause them but I can guess.”

He put his arm around the shaking shoulder of the man and pulled his head close to his chest. “And if I can do anything to drive away those nightmares I will,” he said resting his cheek against the soft hair of the other’s head. Faramir sighed into his shoulder.

“Anything, I will not see you suffer any more. I love you.”

“No, don’t say that, do not say you love me.” He could feel the wetness of the other’s tears seeping into his clothes.

“Why my love, why not?”

“Do not, for all who say so, leave me. Do not leave me,” he sobbed.

“I will never leave you,” Legolas promised him.

*No, it is you who will leave me for you are mortal, and then I will go to the undying lands in sorrow, * he thought sadly.

“I will always be here, and you will never be hurt again, never again.”

Faramir looked up, interlocking his eyes with the elf’s blue orbs, and stared back silently, taking in the love he saw shining out pure and unadulterated. His heart grew light as he realised that Legolas was not looking at him with scorn but with love.

Legolas looked into the grey eyes, and he felt once again the strange constriction in his heart. He could drown in those grey depths. Smiling down at Faramir, he hugged him tight; and realized belatedly that the man seemed cold, seeing that he was protected only by thin cloth.

“You are cold, let us go inside,” he said, taking off his cloak and wrapping him in it. He led Faramir back towards the building, still quiet and peaceful. He doubted if anyone other than a few servants would be seen around till evening. His own room was nearby, as he wanted to be near the trees in the garden.

“Come, I will take you back to your room.”

“Can I not stay here awhile? The trees soothe my heart,” Faramir said wearily.

“No, it is cold. But if you like, you can stay in my chambers, for my balcony overlooks this garden,” he led the weary man inside, and then steered him towards a cushioned chair in the balcony. He lightly kneaded the taut muscles on the other’s shoulder and back, until the man slumped limply against him.

“Stay here,” he said lowering him onto the cushions, “you seem to be hurting still, I will get you some herbs to dull it.”

When he returned Faramir was sprawled out on the chair, eyes closed, breathing evened out, and the look on his sleeping visage was one of a man at ease with himself. Legolas smiled, and stooping down, picked up the sleeping man, and carried him inside, laid him upon the bed, near the open window through which floated in the smells and sounds of the garden. He covered him up, smoothed a few stray hairs away, and lightly brushed the lips with his own, before laying himself down on the other side. Softly, he hummed the strains of an old elvish ballad of true love, smiling as Faramir’s mouth curved in a small smile in his sleep, as the lilting voice reached through to his subconscious mind.

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

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5 Comment(s)

My favorite Legolas/Faramir story.

— Vicki    Tuesday 1 May 2007, 22:42    #

You know how much I love your fics,this did NOT let me down. I thank you with every inch of my heart

— Ingrid    Wednesday 3 June 2009, 21:55    #

Thank you Ingrid:)

— Minx    Thursday 18 June 2009, 17:59    #

I was apprehensive at first, for the warning of rape, but I am glad I did read it through because it was wonderfully written and equally good in the dept of the emotions that motivated the lovers. I loved this.

— Suryallee    Friday 13 January 2012, 15:09    #

Suryallee: thank you! I’m glad you liked it!

Minx    Thursday 26 January 2012, 11:12    #

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