Anor Captures the Avian
by LadyAna

FIC: From “The ‘My Life’ Series” - Snippet B - “Anor Captures the Avian”
AUTHOR: LadyAna (LadyAna5 AT aol.com)
FANDOM: LOTR - The movies were the inspiration, but the research was supplied by the books, “the Elvish Name Generator” and “the encyclopedia of arda”
PAIRING: Aragorn / Legolas
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Copyright to J.R.R. Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema - this is solely for entertainment purposes and no profit is made from it.
WARNINGS: Slash (M/M), first-time, romance
SUMMARY: Aragorn and Legolas talk about those who share certain carnal intimacies, but do not call adultery. What is betrayal? What is benign?

AUTHOR NOTES:
= = I put Our Boys back to when Aragorn was in Gondor under the guise of Thorongil.
= = Writing in present tense, first person is a bitch!
= = Want to archive this tale? Fine, just let me know where!(...just so I can gloat!)
= = Feedback is welcome, but remember I have a soft heart!
= = BTW, I always reply to feedback. Hence, if you did not get a response from me within a week, I did NOT get your original email, believe me!
= = I combine book and movie canon and sometimes I dismiss both entirely. Just don’t be surprised if things are changed around.

DEDICATION: This story is dedicated to my favorite LOTR authors(You know who you are!) Also, The Theban Group, Thalassa, jayay58 and Elisa of “Lassegalenslaire” fame, Patty P, bandwench, tuxedo elf, Nimaweh, Catuskim, agrotora, Tien...and anyone else who plays with pics of our boys! Your LOTR photo-manips are always beyond beautiful!

SPOILERS: I can’t keep track of all the spoilers I use, so read at your own risk!

From the ‘My Life’ Series
by LadyAna

Snippet B - “Anor Captures the Avian”

I find myself overlooking the city of Gondor, which appears to be hibernating under the frigid grip of winter. Everything seems muted, all sight and sound weighted down under the heavy burden of the sleeping death. I shiver at the idea, at the lack of any living thing around me during this bleak season, and Gondor does not hold much greenery to begin with. The weary grey reminds me of how long I have tarried in Arda and I grow a tad fearful as to when the pining for the Sea will sprout within me, as it does usually does with the First Born. Without question, I enjoy the warmer months, so full of colorful brilliance, the heated air carrying scents of full blossoms, all of nature singing and crying in its free will and savage splendor. It infects me with bright life and childlike exuberance. I smile when I realize the comparison.

Summer reminds me of him.

I am here visiting Aragorn, or as those here know him, Thorongil, who is busy seeing to the capture of some outlaw dwelling within the confines of the city. As I passed this way a short time ago, I could see the quarry had been procured, so I expect Aragorn to join me soon. We are having dinner this evening and I am looking forward to spending time with the Man I have recently come to love as more than a friend. What thrills me is I have a feeling I am not alone in this new affection. There have been remarks, talks and glances from him which lead me to believe are not pure or detached. I hear the doors open, then close behind me. Once again, I aim to discover if what my heart harbors is solitary or joined.

“Greetings, my friend!” he says, smiling.

“Greetings to you as well.” I raise my hands to greet him in our usual manner, trying to hide my surprise when he takes me into his arms for a full, if chaste, embrace.

“It is good to see you, mellon.” he says, his tone warm.

I return the gesture, just as austere. “And you as well.” I try to ignore the strong arms around me and the woodsy scent about him.

He turns sharply, breaking our hold to view the table. “Ah! I see they were timely with our meal despite my lateness. I must commend the staff for waiting.”

We sit and begin to enjoy a wonderful meal of braised pork. As I pick up my bread, I ask, “What was that ruckus I witnessed when I first arrived?”

Aragorn smiles, bringing the napkin to his lips. “Ah, yes. That rouge of a man I arrested had been accused of raping a young man.”

I am a little stunned to hear such news. It is not often a *man* claims to be assaulted as so. “I see. The culprit was quite loud in his protestations of innocence.”

In between bites of food, he says, “Well, his defense would be amusing if it wasn’t so pathetic.”

Taking a sip of wine, I ask, “How do you mean?”

Holding his cutlery, Aragorn looks up as he speaks, his tone sardonic. “Let’s see! I do believe his firm stance was that, since there were too many witnesses to claim otherwise, while he did occasionally enjoy the company of other men, he would not, oh how did he say it? Ah, let me phrase it a tad more delicately; he would not be caught dead with anyone rutting like two male canines.’”

At that, I chuckle, lowering my head.

“So yes, that was his grounds for refuting he had committed such a crime.” The future king furrows his brow in mock consternation. “How he associated mutually favorable acts between adults the same as rape, and as vulgar, is beyond me.”

I begin nodding. “Ah! It is amazing how there are those who truly believe if they only engage in *certain* carnal acts, it makes them less guilty of being so fully inclined in the first place.” Sadly, a painful memory starts to surface. The indiscretions a past lover came to me after all these years.

“But of course.” Aragorn says sarcastically. “If they can convince themselves it is only particular lustful indulgences, then it is not wrong or sinful, which it is neither in the first place.”

I smile at his words, though I am not completely certain of his intent. I knew Aragorn had no issue with those who preferred their own gender, but it was different for him to state it so boldly. I shrug, still eating. “I would say, more’s the pity, but since he is obviously a fool, I will not.”

Aragorn wrinkles his brow for a second, still smiling. “How do you mean?”

“Well, I would say it is a shame the half-wit will never realize the, how shall I say it more delicately than he might? He will not garner the devastating bliss achieved during such an act, giving or receiving. But I will not, for he does not deserve to. Wait! I just did say it, didn’t I?!” I know I am being silly, trying to get him to laugh.

I meet his gaze and Aragorn’s face was a bit dazed. He blinks slowly and looks down, his eyes far away. I smile and ask, “Something wrong?”

“Um...no.” He shakes his head a bit, then smiles.

The upsetting recollection I had earlier makes me grow rather melancholy. “Then there are those who abide by the exact contrast, that such libidinous activities are not true betrayal, since they did not, how did you say it, rut like two male canines.” I never understood how pleasuring another lover with one’s mouth was considered less adulterous than taking them inside one’s nether cleft.

Aragorn knew who I was referring to and gives me a sympathetic smile. “When was the last time you seen him?”

I sigh deeply. I am glad Nénharma and I are at least speaking to one another again. There was a time I wanted to do nothing but see his heart torn asunder, as he had done mine. “Nénharma is well. I visited him last time I was in Mirkwood. He still works with his father, repairing and building harps.”

“I remember some fairly entertaining conversations exchanging observations about you.” he says with a wink.

I grimace at the good-natured mocking I suffered from Nénharma and Aragorn. “Yes, the two of you were highly adept at finding new ways to embarrass me.”

Aragorn was smiling now, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “There was one time you chased him around the room when he tried to tell me one of your more...interesting predilections he had discovered.”

The day he spoke of came to me very clearly. Heat crept into my cheeks at the particular carnal act Nénharma nearly revealed. “Well, I *do* have limits on what I will endure! I am glad I caught him and sat on him with a pillow over his face until he relented.”

“More’s the pity.” he mutters, much to my delight and surprise.

“I see!” I am smiling, my voice inquisitive. “Was that a secret I should have let you be privy to?”

He rolls his eyes and coyly says, “Not at that time.”

“And now?”

With more of a smirk, he lowers his eyes. “I prefer to make my own revelations, if allowed the chance.” He then announces, completely unconvincingly, “Ah, you are blushing. I did not mean to embarrass you.”

Suddenly, a wave of desire takes me and I cannot deny my craving to state the truth. I glance up, my voice thick and fire in my eyes. “I am flushed, that I admit...but it is not shame I display.”

It took a second for full dawning to occur. As it did, his eyes which had been initially down, where taking a deliberately slow path, to hold me in a lightening-charged stare. I give him a slight smile in return. What is more telling, however, is that he looks elsewhere, but he is struck mute. Hope and anxiousness is flitting around in me. His piercing gaze, then silence and deep-breathing has me believing my cloaked comment had its intended effect, to arouse him as much as I was.

“It seems then you are looking into a mirror.” His voice is melodic, warm. “Nénharma must have been fairly intuitive for said technique to provoke that reaction so many years later.”

I tilt my head a bit, trying to ignore my body’s enthralled response to our mimicked dalliances. “We had not courted one another very long at that time, so chance favored him. He did not have a grand perceptivity into my risque proclivities, as would someone who has known me longer.”

“Anyone who has...known you at all should consider it an honor.” His voice is rough, nearly a growl.

“Hannon le. The sentiment is mutual.” The excitement was maddening! It is as if we are both on the verge of revealing mutual desire, but neither would openly chance it. “Knowledge of that sort is the best teacher...and explorer.”

“As is trading such learned methods.”

Now my tone is playful, full of insinuation. “Is there anything you might wish to cultivate me on?”

He gives me a wry smile in return. “More like, discover.” He suddenly becomes more upright and clearly states, “It is bitterly cold tonight. Would you care to join me in my room in front of the fire for some tea and brandy?”

“I would to.”

*~~~~~*

Later on that evening, I awake to a warm, full body pressing up against me. We are still on the floor, in front of the fire, swathed in several blankets and pillows. I stretch, but do not move, to alert Aragorn of our position and that I do not mind. He shifts, moaning slightly, pulling me closer.

“May I ask you something?”he says.

“Anything.”

“What is my name here?”

“Thorongil.”

“What does it mean?”

“‘Eagle of the Star’, the star a reference to the brooch of the Dúnedain.”

“That is one account.”

“What is the other?”

He moves the covers out of the way, so now his lips are on the back of my neck. I can smell the honey, tea and brandy still on his breath. I purr in reply, twisting my face towards him in approval.

“As I was coming here, I was wondering what identity to use.” he says.

His mouth is dancing under my hairline, causing chills throughout me. I whisper, “Oh...do not stop.”

“Then I saw you approaching.” he murmurs. “Your hair was golden in the morning sun. Your smile warmed me, my heart, my body. Two eagles cried in the distance, but I could barely see them, having been blotted out by the sun. And then I knew...I had been captured.”

His body begins moving along mine, his lips making their way to my ear. I tell him, “Yes...that is so good!”

“I am the ‘Eagle of the Star’.” he says distractedly, now feasting on me where he could reach. “You are my sun, my star, enveloping me, a mere bird, a mote against the full rise of day.”

Nearly panting, I say, “An eagle is more than a ‘mere bird’ They are gigantic, intelligent creatures, friends of Elves and Men. Their kin carry spirits akin to the Maiar, special emissaries of Manwë and speak with Elf-lords as an equal.”

He continues to part the blankets until we are shaped against each other. He shrugs off his tunic and I do the same. Still in our leggings, we are skin-to-skin and it is glorious. “Then I guess others will have to think it was my arrogance which made me chose that title!”

I laugh at that, with my head back, against his shoulder. “Aragorn?” I ask, dazedly.

“Yes?”

“Would you care to know of some devastating bliss?”

His breath hitches and he flips me over so fast I lose my own breath, and then his face stuns me. He stares at me, the stony iris’ and strong visage showing his restraint, the same I saw at the dinner table. “Aye. I would love to bring you such destructive rhapsody.”

I keep my face calm as I dare to hope. “You would...love?”

He freezes for just a second, then nods slowly. “It has come to that, my friend. I love you. I hope I am not alone in this conclusion.”

I smile, warmth suffusing me. My voice is coy as I roll my eyes. “Well, depends if you are doing this solely to get me to tell what Nénharma nearly revealed.”

He laughs a little. “Nay, I plan to make my own map of your blessed form to unearth all your hidden erotic weaknesses and needs. And perhaps find a few not even you are aware of!”

“Then it is settled.” I determine, smiling stupidly. “I love you as well.”

He grows suddenly serious. “And, I will never harm your heart with vile, empty claims of what we both know to be lustfully sacred.”

I touch his face, far too moved by such an obvious claim. “That is a path I knew I would never be forced down with you.”

He says, bringing his lips just above mine. “Let me do some exploring, my friend.”

After that, we exquisitely charted each others risque terrains. Shared, but solely with one another.
END

 

 

Main Page || Story Index || Links || E-mail