I can always say that I saw you first, but that would be untrue. I am sure many eyes laid upon your face, so many that they begin to blur and fade away. But I would not be lying to say that my gaze lingered the longest. You are like water and I am the earth, you are silver-liquid and I am stone, not smooth.
Contrast and conflict.
Maybe you think I have no honor or respect. I have much…..too much, so much that is kills me from the inside.
I have seen men fall and lands divide. My own pride defeated by age and time.
And I lusted for power, like so many before me…..to grasp eternity. How very mortal of me.
Me, a man of noble blood and of the sword, wanting the unattainable. You are the unattainable, Legolas.
I have watched you, so silent in my observance lest you notice me. I could see how your eyes were steady with each arrow drawn, your body so tight yet mobile, like water.
How fitting for you, to be so like what you are. That type of purity is unheard of, at least to my ears.
Some nights, the moon cold in the dark sky, I would watch you. You were not asleep.
You watched and listened, aware of all the sounds. Except for my hooded stare, all else was quiet.
Moonlight caught upon your hair and your very pale skin, illuminating you against the black of the surrounding forest.
And my eyes shut slowly, letting faint longings come forth and into my soul, of your fingers…light and deft upon my lips.
The feather touch of your mouth down my chest, that soft mane falling into my eyes, sweet rapture of you.
Eyes open. You still stand, watching.
And I watch you, Legolas.
I have faltered many times and, at other times, I would stand firm. I have faults. It is hard to admit a failure, a weakness. But I did, in the end, I know I did.
And what did you think of me then?
It matters not I suppose. Men and elves. So very different yet drawn together like moth to flame.
But you are not fire, Legolas. You do not burn me to the core like battle or drink.
You cool my insides. You soothe.
I imagine your touch to be almost healing….and maybe, that is what I seek. Relief from pain, from doubts that plague me.
I used to be jealous of your respect for Aragorn. I admired the man as well, like a brother…perhaps more than that. Yet your attention to him borne envy in my heart.
His lips spoke and your ears listened intently, ready for his direction. I did not want you to follow. You were too strong for that.
I have to laugh now at my perceptions. And how naïve I could be.
Funny, I do think I loved you. Your body, your speed, your grace….all of you was a mystery and a treasure.
It would have been nice to have kissed you or to feel your nakedness beside me. But, alas, those are fantasies, never to be seen.
But once….yes, I remember it fondly…your smile graced me. Impish and radiant, youthful bravado displayed.
And it was for me, me alone. No Aragorn, no Gimli….just I.
I returned the smile with a slight grin, like we shared some secret. Perhaps we did.
End notes from author:
1- I have not read the book, Fellowship, in sometime and saw the film recently. I identified with Boromir more than any other character in the movie which is why I wrote from his point-of-view.
2- I think the B/L pairing is a good one, my personal favorite.
3- Yes, it is short and not plot-driven. That is how I like to write.
4- I do hope whoever reads this likes it, if not…too bad for you I guess.
5- I do not own LOTR or the characters, no profit is made from this. I do own the idea, however, so no one take it ^_^;
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