My Warriors, My Beloveds

Chapter 2: A Confrontation Between Old Friends (Or Why Legolas Thinks Aragorn Should Just Back Off)



Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood: 26th of March, 2969

Dawn



Aragorn woke before dawn, groggy from his short and fitful sleep. Last night had brought many revelations about Harry and his mindset, and Aragorn was angry at Legolas for objectifying his beautiful emerald-eyed companion.



Harry was more than a sexual object, more than just a recepticle for an heir. King Thranduil saw him as a savior, a way to pass on the elvish blood. Legolas saw him as a way to procreate without having to lay with a woman. Neither one of them saw the sensitive, shy creature behind Harry’s beautiful face.



Aragorn quickly dressed and grabbed his sword and daggers, heading down to the training area. If he knew his old friend, Legolas would be practicing his archery. Although the best archer in Middle Earth, the prince was constantly honing his battle skills.



And sure enough, Aragorn immediately spotted Legolas’s blonde hair gleaming in the archery range.



“You are a skillful bowman,” he called out to his old friend.



“Ever is thy sight a joy,” Legolas greeted, firing off one last bulls-eye and reattaching his bow to his back.



“I wish I could say the same,” Aragorn responded with a frown. “You greatly upset Harry last night.”



“Did he complain about my lustful ways?” Legolas questioned with a smirk. “It is not my fault he is repressed.”



“Not all elves are as free-loving as you, Legolas,” Aragorn responded. “You made him uncomfortable.

He is not a possession. He is a living, breathing, feeling being. And I would appreciate it if you allowed him his modesty and his privacy in the future.”



“Do you expect I will find him naked often?” Legolas quipped.



“Go kiss an orc,” Aragorn snarled. “I am being serious.”



“Have you forgot Arwen so easily?” the prince asked. “You are half in love with him already. How long have you known him? A fortnight?”



“And three days,” Isildur’s heir responded with a sigh. “He is unlike anyone I have ever met. Yes,

I will admit that I was infatuated with Arwen, but she did not return my affections.”



“And Harry does?” Legolas questioned.



“Not yet,” Aragorn said seriously. “He is young yet, and does not wish to be trapped. He wants his freedom, his independence. And your father chasing after him to bear your heir is weighing on him heavily.”



“Well then, you should be having this discussion with ada,” Legolas responded with another smirk.



“By the sea and stars, you are as impossible as ever!” Aragorn exclaimed. “You make me wish to draw my sword.”



“Don’t look for trouble, Estel, it will find you. I know your strength in battle, just as I know your weakness,” Legolas warned. “The boy is not worth it.”



“Then you will leave him alone?” Aragorn prompted.



“That is not what I said,” the prince responded. “Perhaps you should just back off. He is an elf, and he would see immortality at my side. Find yourself a mortal woman to bear Isildur’s next heir.”



“He is only a quarter elf,” Aragorn snarled. “He was raised in the realm of Man. He does not even know his elven kin! He does not know your culture. He barely knows your language!”



“He will have eternity to learn,” Legolas said calmly. “Unless you pressure him to accept the Gift of Men and find death at your side.”



“He would find love as well, which is something that cannot be said of your fabled ‘forever’” Aragorn sneered.



“I would marry him, of course, if he bore my heir. It would be necessary for the legitimacy of the line,” Legolas assured. “He would be well taken care of.”



“And yet you still say nothing of love. And what of fidelity?” Aragorn demanded.



“I would not seek it from him,” Legolas stated. “After he bears my first heir, he can bed whomever he likes. He is beautiful enough that he will not lack for companionship.”



“And your own fidelity? You would bed whomever you like as well?” the man asked.



“I only bed males, you know that. And Harry is the only Bearer. He would not have to worry about illegitimate children to compete with the heir,” Legolas promised.



“Harry wishes to marry for love. You will never win his hand with that attitude,” Aragorn said with a large measure of relief in his voice.



“I desire his body, and I will not sire children in any other bed. That should be more than enough,” Legolas claimed. “He can find love with another outside of the marriage bed, if he so wishes.”



“Glad to see I’m so wanted,” a musical voice called from behind Legolas’s back.



“Your beauty shines bright,” Legolas greeted. “In light or dark. I did not hear your approach.”



“Stealth is one of the few aspects of battle I have mastered,” Harry acknowledged. “Why are you just standing around the archery range? It is a place of training and battle, not conversation.”



“Oh, Thorongil just distracted me from my practice,” Legolas said with a sly glance towards his old friend.



Aragorn glared at the prince.



“Yes, the men are looking for their commander. Few speak elvish. I have been translating all morning. You know I have no talent or patience for it, brute,” Harry accused his friend with a smile.



“I apologize for leaving you to their tender mercies, little one,” Aragorn teasingly responded.



“Oh, you are forgiven as long as you accompany me to breakfast. You would not leave me to the wolves, would you?” Harry questioned, emerald eyes sparkling. “I expect you within the hour. I am going to bathe in the guest chambers, as I was so rudely interrupted last night. Oh, and I am not little!”



Both Aragorn and Legolas watched as Harry walked away: one longingly, the other lustily.



“He really is something,” Aragorn whispered fondly with a smile.



“Yes, I would love to bury myself in that tight little…” Legolas began, but was interrupted with a dagger at his throat.



“Do not dare finish that sentence. You disgust me when so much wind pours from your mouth. Harry is deserving of your respect. You would not speak of Haldir or Glorfindel as such, would you?” Aragorn demanded.



“Put your dagger away. I will not further insult your precious Bearer,” Legolas responded with a roll of his blue eyes.



“I do not understand how you can treat him such,” Aragorn stated as he sheathed his dagger. “You have met him but twice. You know nothing of him, yet you treat him like he is another of the many tarts throwing themselves upon you.”



“Just because he professes false modesty does not mean he deserves my respect. Did you see the way he walks? He swings his hips just like my ‘tarts.’” Legolas sneered.



“It is his natural gait, I assure you. Primarily from the fact that he is sore from riding a horse for fifteen days straight,” Aragorn responded. “And he is untouched. I would appreciate it if you would stop maligning his good name.”



“Untouched?” Legolas said in disbelief. “Are you so sure? Perhaps he just…”



“I am sure,” the man cut him off. “He is terrified to fall pregnant with an unwanted child, as his grandfather before him. Bearers are notoriously fertile, and just once can see him with child. And I trust his word, beside.”



“Hmm…” Legolas said thoughtfully. “Then perhaps I have dealt with him poorly. I thought he was just another seeking entrance into my bed and a permanent place at my side as the bearer of my heir. If he is innocent, he will need to be treated carefully. I thought him falsely modest when I found him in my private baths.”



“Harry has no ambitions to bear your heir. He is an innocent, and he was only in your private baths because your father sent him there. As far as he knew, they were the guest baths. He was surprised to see you there, and embarrassed that you saw him unclothed despite his efforts to the contrary,” Aragorn informed his old friend. “Now, I am going to wait for him in our room.”



“You room together?” Legolas asked as Aragorn began walking away.



The man stopped.



“It is for his protection,” Aragorn stated calmy.



“For his protection, or so you can watch him as he sleeps and make sure no other is doing the same?” Legolas questioned.



Aragorn did not dignify that comment with a response as he continued walking away.



“You should not tease him so, Legolas,” a voice called from behind the prince.



“Glorfindel,” Legolas acknowledged. “You were there the whole time, then?”



“Yes. This is the second time someone has snuck up on you today, Legolas, and it is barely past dawn. You need to be more aware of your surroundings,” Glorfindel pointed out.



“Why are you here? You rarely visit Mirkwood without motive,” the prince questioned.



“Lord Elrond is interested in your Bearer. He foresaw his importance to the future fate of the Elves,” the elf-lord responded.



“Does your lord want him for himself?” Legolas asked, quite seriously. “He already has three children. Four, if you count Estel.”



“No,” Glorfindel denied. “Lord Elrond believes that Harry may be the result of Erestor’s indiscretion.”



“What?” Legolas asked, shocked that Harry could possibly be the grandson of Lord Elrond’s chief counselor.



“Yes, or perhaps even Elladan’s. Erestor, Elladan, and Elrohir once journeyed to Minhiriath, about four decades ago, and both Erestor and Elladan admitted to trysts with mortal men while there,” Glorfindel admitted. “If Erestor and Elladan did not look so alike, it would be much easier to distinguish. But both have dark hair and pale skin, it is simply a mark of their race.”



“So Harry may be Lord Elrond’s great-grandson through his eldest son? Bonding with him would closer align Mirkwood with Rivendell,” Legolas claimed contemplatively.



“And Erestor is a well-respected high Elf. He holds much power in Rivendell as well,” Glorfindel reminded. “They are the most likely candidates. Few other male elves within Lord Elrond’s knowledge traveled in or around Minhiriath in the necessary time period.”



“This makes things more complicated,” Legolas admitted.



“Yes, as Harry can marry whomever he likes if his elven ancestors are unknown. Under our laws, he would need permission from his oldest male elven relative if the relation was known. It would be a way to prevent his loss to the race of Man,” Glorfindel pondered.



“Lord Elrond would forbid his marriage to Aragorn?” the prince questioned.



“That I do not know. I believe Lord Elrond would rather Harry than Arwen, although Harry is quite possibly the more important to the elven race. Bearers are notoriously fertile, and we have had no elflings born in many decades, if you do not count Harry and his mother,” Glorfindel reasoned.



“That is true,” Legolas admitted. “Then I better try to get to know this Bearer better. My father insists that Harry will guarantee Mirkwood’s future. Men have been multiplying at too great a rate in recent years, and Elves simply cannot keep up.”



“You can start with apologizing for invading his privacy,” Glorfindel reminded with a smirk. “So you better come along to breakfast. You have loitered around the archery range doing nothing quite enough this morning.”



“My old friend provided too much of a distraction to ignore,” Legolas claimed as he walked with

Glorfindel towards the dining hall. Servants bowed deeply to them as they passed.



“He is more than half in love, Legolas, and you would do well not to push him,” Glorfindel warned. “If you are not serious about the Bearer, you should stop your pursuit now, no matter how much import your father places on repopulating your line. You will have to pledge both love and fidelity to win his hand, I have seen that much. It is not false modesty, nor will it be false chastity if you seriously pursue him.”



“Your wisdom is as renowned as your battle skill,” Legolas praised. “But I cannot see myself tied to just one for the rest of eternity.”



“Perhaps you should change your plans for eternity, then. I would happily court one such as him,” Glorfindel admitted.



Legolas shot him a sharp glance.



“You are serious?” Legolas questioned. “You? So renowned for your skill in the bedroom, as well as your many conquests.”



“He is very beautiful, and you cannot deny that there is something innocently seductive about him,” Glorfindel responded. “But my lord already warned me of the dangers should I pursue such folly. Lord Elrond said there would be trouble if the Bearer ended up with any Elf but you.”



“Any Elf?” Legolas questioned.



“Estel is a possibiliy,” the elf-lord admitted. “But there is no better Elf in Mirkwood, and there is too high a chance that he is too closely related to Rivendell. Haldir of Lórien was smitten at their first meeting, but Lord Elrond Saw only poor outcomes from that union.”



“Your lord is very concerned. How long has he been contemplating such matches?” Legolas questioned.



“From as soon as word came from Lothlórien that there was an unknown quarter-elfling, capable of bearing children as a male and passing on the magic of the Istari. Do not underestimate his importance to the future of Middle Earth, be it belonging to Elves or Man,” Glorfindel warned.



The two blonde elves arrived near the end of breakfast. A few men were still sleepily eating breakfast, but other than Harry and the king, there were no elves still loitering.



Harry sat across from King Thranduil, who was attempting to engage him in conversation. Aragorn was sitting to Harry’s right, placing a hand on his shoulder or lightly stroking his arm whenever he got too frustrated with the king.



“Good morning, ada. Harry, son of James,” Legolas greeted, then locked eyes with his old friend. “Thorongil.”



The last came out almost a growl.



“Greetings,” Glorfindel added, shooting the prince a meaningful glance, then looking at Harry.



“I apologize for my recent behavior,” Legolas said to the Bearer. “I should have respected your privacy last night, but I hope you will not blame me for being struck stupid by your beauty.”



“And what of your comments this morning?” Harry responded, unwilling to forgive the prince so easily.



“I also apologize for alleging that you are free with your affections. I should not have doubted your modesty,” Legolas conceded.



“Or his innocence,” Aragorn added with a glare.



This time it was Harry who put an hand on Aragorn’s arm to calm him.



“Or your innocence,” Legolas affirmed, again locking gazes with his old friend.



“I will leave you to your breakfast,” King Thranduil said as he stood up.



It was obvious that he was trying to give Harry and Legolas some time to talk without his presence. The king knew there was only so much he could do to court Harry to his son’s side without Legolas’s participation.



“Good day,” Harry told the king as he left, before returning his attention to the prince’s apology.



“I suppose I can forgive you. Perhaps we just got off on the wrong foot,” Harry acknowledged to the prince, not noticing the dark glare Aragorn was giving everyone and everything at Harry’s words.



“Yes, I would like it if we could start again. Let me introduce myself properly. I am Prince Legolas Thranduilion, Heir to the Silvan Woodland Realm of Northern Mirkwood,” Legolas said charmingly with a sweeping bow.



“Pleasure meeting you,” Harry responded. “I am Harry, son of James. Unfortunately, I have no titles to extend my name so charmingly.”



That started a short chuckle out of Legolas, and Glorfindel looked upon their interaction with approval.



Aragorn, not so much.



Harry extended his hand to shake in the custom of Man, but Legolas would have none of it. He brought Harry’s hand to his lips as if he were a maiden, and the Bearer blushed deeply at the action.



“You do seem to have the habit of getting me confused with females,” Harry teased as he reclaimed his hand.



“You must have me confused with someone else,” Legolas responded. “Because I am sure this is the first time we have met. I would remember a beauty such as yours.”



Harry acquiesced to Legolas’s desire for them to pretend that their first two meetings had never occurred.



“Yes, of course. I must have you confused with another fair-haired Elf prince that I know,” Harry murmured demurely.



“Should I be jealous?” Legolas questioned.



“Of course not,” Aragorn interjected smoothly. He did not like the light banter being exchanged between his new companion and his old friend. Harry was only supposed to tease him as such!



Harry shot Thorongil a questioning look. The man had been acting oddly ever since the prince and elf-lord had sat down.



“I would like to thank you for the food and accommodations,” Harry said politely, attempting to change the subject. “The beds were very comfortable last night, and the baths are a pleasure.”



Aragorn and Legolas exchanged another glare before the prince said smoothly, “Then I am surely jealous of every water droplet to touch your skin.”



Harry shot him a questioning look.



“That they are able to bring you pleasure when I cannot,” Legolas explained.



Harry blushed deeply at the prince’s brazen comment, and if looks could kill Aragorn would be arrested for murdering the elf-prince.



“I believe that Harry and I are done with breakfast,” he interrupted once again. “Perhaps we shall see you at lunch.”



Aragorn pulled Harry’s chair out for him, ignoring Harry’s searching gaze, Glorfindel’s knowing look, and focusing on Legolas’s smug smirk.



“Perhaps,” the prince conceded.



“Good day, my lords,” Harry bid to Legolas and Glorfindel as he left the dining hall with Aragorn.



“Harry, son of James?” the prince called out to his back. “I would appreciate it if you would call me Legolas. My name has never touched sweeter lips.”



“Then you must call me Harry, Legolas,” the Bearer responded with another deep blush before darting out the doors and out of sight.



Aragorn shot Legolas one more glare and murmured a quick “Good day” to Glorfindel before he followed.



“You are too much, Greenleaf,” Glorfindel claimed with a shake of his head.



Legolas sat back in his chair with a smirk.



“Just call me Prince Charming.”



*************************************************************************************



Coming Soon: It is time for Harry to return to Rohan with Thorongil and his men. What will he do when Prince Legolas asks him to stay in Mirkwood?