Title: The Plot Bunny that Wouldn’t Go Away

Author: Melfina the Blue (psychogenius@poetic.com)

Pairings: Legolas/Haldir, Aragorn/Haldir

Rating: NC-17 for torture, rape, and general meanness and brutality

Summary: Haldir dies. Aragorn loses it. Poor, poor Legolas. No happy ending.

Disclaimer: If you sue, you’ll get nothing. This would be because I don’t own anything. I’m a college student, and therefore perpetually broke. Flamers will have to deal with Schrodinger’s Ghost. (like his cat, but much much worse)

Warning: Extreme violence. Angst. General abuse of Legolas.

Author’s Note: This one was not going to give me any peace until I wrote it, so here it is. And as for the title, it seemed appropriate.

Archive: Library of Moria, www.mtholyoke.edu/~adsmith (my page)

Haldir was dead. Dead. Though the battle was theirs, though all around him celebrated, the taste of victory was as ashes in his mouth. Closing his eyes, he could still see his fall, the shock and surprise on his face as the fatal blow fell. He had not saved him. Ignoring the cheering masses around him, he made his way back to the keep.

“Where is Aragorn going?” Legolas thought as he watched him walk slowly towards the keep. “Is it grief that dogs his steps so? It must be. I will follow and give comfort where I can.” He followed Aragorn through the keep to a storeroom. Inside Aragorn sat with his head in his hands. He did not look up as Legolas entered.

“Aragorn?” he said softly, moving to clasp the man’s shoulder.

Aragorn grabbed his outstretched hand and twisted it behind him, forcing Legolas onto his knees. “I saw you two. Did you think I would not put two and two together? I am no fool, Legolas.” He twisted the arm further, causing Legolas to cry out in pain. “Answer carefully elf, for your next words may be your last.” He pulled out his dagger and placed it against Legolas’s face, under his left eye.

“Aragorn, what…?” Legolas fell silent as the dagger edge pressed into his skin, drawing a thin line of blood. Finally he realized. This was about Haldir. But surely Aragorn was not jealous of Haldir!? He remembered Haldir’s greeting.

“Well met, my Golden Prince. Are your Ranger’s greetings always so enthusiastic?”

“He is glad to see you, as am I. We were close to despair before your coming.”

Haldir swept him up into a tight embrace, sliding one of his hands down to squeeze his buttocks before releasing him.

“And I am glad to see my Golden Prince still blushes as sweetly as any elvish maid.”

“Haldir! This is neither the time nor the place for such things.”

Haldir put an arm around Legolas and drew them together conspiratorially. “Perhaps you are right. Someday you must tell me, do all humans take things so seriously, or is it just your Ranger?”

“My Ranger? Haldir, wait!”

But Haldir was already moving towards the group of men and there was no time to find out what he meant.

“Aragorn, you cannot believe that you and I?”

He never saw the knee coming. His world collapsed into a bright darkness of pain as he curled into a fetal position on the floor. He was dimly aware of Aragorn speaking.

“You really are an idiot. And a whore. You tempted him away from me, and now you’re going to pay!”

Aragorn lifted Legolas up by his hair and threw him against the wall. Legolas heard a crack as his head hit some plate armor and then slid into unconsciousness. This did not stop Aragorn, mad with grief, from cutting bloody swathes into him, nor from raping him, first with his dagger hilt, and then when that ceased to draw blood, with the naked blade, muttering all the time about whores and betrayal. “He’ll never whore again, that’s for sure.” He kicked Legolas one more time, then carefully wiped his blade on Legolas’s shredded clothing, slowly opened the door, and left.

The alarm was raised an hour or so later by a page looking for arrowheads. The sight of the broken and badly injured elf made him very ill, and he staggered out into the corridor, where he ran straight into Gimli.

“My lord, the elf…” the page said, pointing into the storeroom. Gimli ran in, and the shouts of “Murder!” rang throughout the keep.

Aragorn awoke. He stretched luxuriously. That had been a wonderful nap. But strangely, his dreams had been dark, of pain and madness. Then someone banged on his door. “Milord, you must come quickly. Your friend is badly injured!”

Legolas awoke. His body felt as though it was on fire. He opened his eyes to see what was going on, but he could not see anything. He tried to raise a hand to his eyes, but he couldn’t move.

“Easy, Legolas, easy. You need to stay still for a while. You were badly injured. Now lie still and I’ll take off some of the restraints.”

“Ragarbles?”

Legolas was so wrapped up in bandages that only the tip of his nose showed. This, combined with the broken jaw, made him completely unintelligible. Gimli reached to undo some of the bandages and then hesitated, afraid he might do more harm than good.

“If your friend is awake now, I think some of the bandages might be undone. We will have to be careful of his jaw, but most of the others can be safely removed. In truth, I think Lord Aragorn was so overwrought that he may have been a bit zealous with the bandaging.”

Eowyn moved around to the other side of the bed, and unwrapped some of the bandages around Legolas’s face, though she left the ones around the jaw and ears. Then she and Gimli helped him to sit up, while pillow were placed so he could comfortably lean back. Legolas once again tried to speak.

“No, you must not. Lord Aragorn was…”

Her sentence trailed off as Legolas slowly, and with much effort, curled his right hand into a fist. His knuckles went white and his whole hand began to shake as tighter and tighter he curled.

“Easy, Legolas. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Gimli reached for the fist and uncurled it. He stroked the hand.

“Easy! Soon you will be well again, and then we’ll make whoever did this pay. They shall taste my ax, I promise you.”

To his surprise Legolas began to cry. Gimli had dealt with many things in his long life, but a badly wounded, sobbing elf warrior was completely beyond his ken. He was so hopeless that Legolas managed a smile. Teach him to come to Gimli when he needed comforting. Now Haldir would… That thought started the tears all over again. Haldir, his friend, the love of his youth, was gone to the Halls. And very few, once gone, ever returned. His train of thought was violently derailed when the last person he ever wanted to see walked into the room, accompanied by Gandalf.

“How is he feeling?”

The change in Legolas was immediate. His eyes grew wide with fear and he clutched tight to Gimli’s hand. He seemed to shrink into the bed. As Aragorn came around to Eowyn’s side of the bed, Legolas shrank close to Gimli.

“Easy, Legolas, easy. It’s Aragorn. It’s just Aragorn.”

“Perhaps you all should leave. It seems Legolas and I have some things to discuss.”

“But Gandalf.”

“Trust me, Gimli.”

Everyone else left and Gandalf sat down on the side of the bed. He put his hand on Legolas’s forehead.

“I am sorry Legolas. Aragorn does not remember, and he can not be allowed to do so. He is too important. It grieves me to have to do this to you, but it is necessary. You will never be able to speak of who did this to you.”

Gandalf watched as the elf’s eyes slid slowly shut. The magic would speed up his healing and within a day he would be well again, in body if not in spirit. Unfortunately, the scars would remain, including the worst one of all. Even Gandalf did not know if the scar tissue would ever heal enough to allow enjoyment of that most famous of elven vices again.

A day later, they rode forth from Helm’s Deep to face the final battle. Legolas watched the road ahead of them and dreamed of the battle to come. Its fire would burn away his pain, its blood wash the darkness from his spirit, and perhaps, he would find peace again. Whether it was the peace of the Halls or not, he did not much care. All he wanted was peace.

Author’s Notes: The Halls are the Halls of Mandros, where elves go when they die. Sometimes they are reborn, but it isn’t that common. The most famous of elven vices is anal sex, just in case you weren’t sure.

Okay, so I said it was angsty and scary. But just remember that Legolas goes off with Gimli at the end, so everything obviously works out. And just in case you need more cheering up, here’s two little ficlets from TyrneJ, a good friend of mine who decided this thing needed some comic relief.

{scene: Haldir’s death}

Haldir: ehck...

Aragorn: *gasps*

Haldir: I ...

Aragorn: *holding his breath*

Haldir: ... love...

Aragorn: *eyes widen*

Haldir: ... Arwen..

Aragorn: DIE, FIEND!!! *stabbitystabbitystabbity*

The end.

[scene: Boromir's Death]

[the author remembers not the dialogue that went on here, so she's winging it]

B: A-Aragorn...

[B. reaches forward to grip A.'s arm]

[There is a pause]

A: *amused* A little higher there, Boromir.

B: ...

[Boromir dies unhappily, mumbling curses at Arwen.]

[end scene]

by TyrneJ