Time's Arrow by Russandol

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Chapter X

In which Legolas finds the tables turned on him.

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Chapter X

 

Noruion hesitated, and was about to break away when two strong arms crushed him into an embrace, more desperate than ardent. Legolas tilted his head and his lips parted. Noruion’s tongue was quick to explore, savouring the taste and touch of a dream that he had long despaired of coming true. He wriggled about to free his arms, and buried his fingers in Legolas’ hair, gently cradling his head. Legolas’ tiny moan of pleasure inside his mouth echoed through him like the thunder that follows a bolt of lightning. His cock strained against the tight leather loincloth.

In the end, they had to part to breathe. Legolas laughed, and pulled Noruion closer. His hands, strong and possessive, slid down the bare skin of Noruion’s back, very slowly. Noruion shivered with pleasure. A gasp escaped his lips when Legolas’ erection nudged his thigh through the fabric of his trousers. All remaining fears of rejection fled his mind.

‘Ever since I shot that damned apple I have wished for this,’ said Legolas.

Noruion’s pounding heart leapt to his throat, and his eyes prickled with unshed tears, but he managed to smile. ‘So have I,’ he whispered.

Legolas moved his head a little, to look sideways. When Noruion’s gaze followed, he saw the Lady sitting in a shallow part of the pool, water lapping at her bare breasts. Beleg knelt behind her, one hand around her waist and reaching up to her breast, the other under the water at her front, while he nuzzled her neck and she caressed his face. They seemed both oblivious to anything but each other.

‘It looks as though Lady Galadriel, who requested my services tonight, is otherwise occupied, and will remain so for a while,’ said Legolas. ‘But will Beleg beat me into a pulp if I dare do anything but touch you?’ Despite the jest, his eyes were wary.

Noruion smiled and shook his head. ‘You are safe.’

Legolas let out his breath. ‘In that case, my most honoured champion, what do you command?’

‘I can hardly command my prince, can I?’

‘I was brought under armed guard to honour you tonight.’ Legolas’ voice was teasing. ‘It seems I am at your mercy.  But I doubt you will find me unwilling.’

Very slowly, Noruion touched Legolas’ face, fingers trembling as they brushed his jaw.  The catch in his breath was almost a sob. ‘I can’t believe you are here. I keep fearing I’ll wake up.’

Legolas cupped Noruion’s hand with his own, and turned his head to nuzzle his palm. ‘If I am to be a dream, I shall not allow it to fall short of your desire.’

Noruion’s knees almost gave out. Then he snorted. ‘You are overdressed for my kind of dream,’ he said. Legolas immediately reached for his belt. Boldly, Noruion grasped his wrist. ‘No. Be still. I want to unwrap my prize.’  

Legolas dropped his hands to his sides. Noruion fumbled with the three small buckles that had to be undone, almost regretting his words when the damned prongs would not come free. Once the belt fell to the ground, he pulled the suede tunic over his friend’s head as Legolas raised his arms and wriggled out of it. The shirt underneath was not made of the fine silk a lord might wear, but of a homely cotton weave, cut in the same design Noruion remembered from Eryn Galen. As he loosened the laces down the front with shaky hands, he noticed a pattern of little oak leaves embroidered around the neck. When the fabric parted revealing a tempting sliver of Legolas’ chest underneath, Noruion paused in his task to slide his hands over the smooth skin. Legolas squirmed a little, perhaps ticklish, but kept still and closed his eyes, his lips curving into a smile under the gentle caress of Noruion’s fingers.

At that moment Ithil rose over the top of the trees, bathing Legolas in silver light. Noruion grasped the shirt and pulled it off, almost ripping it in his haste. The glow of moonlight turned Legolas’ bared skin into a landscape of pearl and shadow. Noruion’s fingers explored the contours of hard muscle at the shoulders, glided over silk-like skin along the collarbones, meeting at the hollow of his neck where the pulse drummed fast. They dwelled there a little, before tracing wavy paths down his chest, very slowly. Noruion was delighted to see his friend shiver, and to feel goose bumps rise on his skin.

He undid the buttons at the waist of Legolas’ trousers, and yanked the garment down. The loincloth followed, and Legolas’ cock jumped free. Then Noruion bent down to lick its whole length, upwards, and to twirl his tongue around the head. Ah, that taste… The oak wreath was getting in the way; he took it off and dropped it gently on the grass, to one side. He closed his mouth on the tip of Legolas’ cock and gave it a quick, teasing suck. Legolas’ hands cupped his bare head, and tried to push him down, but Noruion wriggled out of reach and grinned. In the past it had usually been Legolas who teased him into frenzy with prolonged foreplay, but this time, and despite his own blazing arousal, Noruion was keen to savour the dream, to draw out this night of wonder for as long as he could.

‘Stop torturing me,’ murmured Legolas, his voice hoarse. ‘Or in a blink you will find yourself lying on your back.’

‘A vain threat, and you know it,’ chuckled Noruion. He looked down at Legolas’ trousers, tangled below the knees.

Legolas lifted one foot, trying to pull them free, but they were caught by the boots he was still wearing. He shrugged with a little smile. ‘Right. I am stuck.’

‘Stay still.’ Noruion kissed those lovely lips, before crouching down to remove the hobbling boots and trousers.

When he stood up, the sight of Legolas waiting, desperately aroused, made him giddy with need. The cursed thong that held his leather loincloth was biting him between the cheeks. Tugging at the knots, it came free at once. Then, without a word of warning, he assaulted his lord and friend. His hands roved, his nails scratched, his lips kissed, his tongue licked, his teeth grazed and nipped. The moans of pleasure wrought by this onslaught were utterly delicious, an unneeded spur to persevere. Legolas kept squirming, but his arms remained at his sides, hands clenched.

Delighted by the response, Noruion doubled his efforts. Had their places been reversed, he would have lacked the willpower—or the inclination—to exert such self-control. How long would Legolas play this game before he took the lead, as he ever had in the past?

It took longer than expected, but when Noruion decided to suck his friend’s ear tips, he reaped victory at last.

‘Stop!’ cried Legolas, half weeping, half laughing. Noruion blew inside his ear. ‘Please!’ he begged again, shutting his eyes.

But Noruion was enjoying this teasing game too much. ‘Stop? You used to praise the merits of not rushing, and gave me little chance to disagree. Did you not often help me curb my impatience —your words, not mine—with a belt, a quiver strap, or even a fiendish bowstring knotted at my wrists?’

‘Is this… your revenge, then?’ panted Legolas, bent down a little, as though he had just run a race. ‘Turning the tables on me?’

Noruion did not answer. Instead he launched his boldest attack yet, kneeling in front of Legolas to take him in his mouth while he kneaded his balls in one hand, and ran two fingers of the other up between the cheeks. Legolas’ hips jerked forward. Noruion smiled around the hard cock in his mouth and applied himself to the task with even more gusto, but always cautious not to push his willing victim over the edge.

No, it was not revenge, but it was sweet nevertheless.

Legolas seemed ready to grant him undisputed rule over his body, yet another wonder in a day where every unattainable wish had become reality. All of Noruion’s blood rushed to his cock. Morgoth’s bollocks! Would he be allowed to…?

His desire for foreplay was suddenly over. He jumped to his feet. ‘Legolas,’ he stammered, ‘shall we…?’

His companion’s eyes were dark, unfocused, his breath fast and shallow. ‘Sweet Elbereth! Do anything you want, but finish me off.’

Noruion looked around. Beleg and the Lady were nowhere to be seen. In several strides he was standing by the table that held the towels and soap. After a hasty inspection, he chose a small glass bottle from the table and raised it against the moonlight, shaking it lightly. Then he unstoppered it and sniffed carefully. Oil, mixed with some flowery fragrance. It would have to do.

Rushing back to Legolas, he touched his wrist and showed him the bottle.  

Legolas smiled. ‘Shall we go under the trees?’

‘I’d rather…’ Noruion licked his lips. ‘I— I dislike darkness for… for this.’

Something flickered in Legolas’ eyes. ‘I understand,’ he said.

Then Noruion found himself falling. Legolas had tackled him and now pressed him hard into the grassy ground, covering him with his body and devouring him with his lips.

‘The Legolas I remember is back at last,’ laughed Noruion. ‘I was beginning to worry.’

Legolas stopped at once. ‘You were? Why?’ He was staring at him, alarmed.

‘You have been too…’ Noruion searched in his mind for the right word, one that would not be insulting. Tame? Meek? Not your usual overpowering, lordly self whom I loved to worship? He shook his head. ‘Not as pushy as I remembered you.’

‘I see.’ Smiling, Legolas rolled on the ground while pulling Noruion with him until their positions were reversed and Noruion straddled him. ‘I am sorry, I forgot. You are in command.’ Noruion pushed his lover’s hands to the ground. Was Thranduil’s son allowing himself to be pinned down without a fight?

Legolas wriggled up to rub against him. ‘You are enjoying this too much.’

‘Why shouldn’t I?’ whispered Noruion. ‘This must definitely be a dream. You never used to…’

The smile faded on Legolas’ face. ‘That was a long time ago.’ He took a deep breath. ‘But tonight…’ He tilted his hip, to grind his cock against Noruion, and his eyes glittered again. ‘Tonight is yours. As am I.’

Noruion bent down and kissed him on the mouth. At first he tightened his grip on Legolas’ hands, pushing against the resistance that raised the tendons in Legolas’ forearms every time their position shifted. But soon he let go and instead dug his fingers into the strands of pale gold strewn around Legolas like a crown. Once his arms were free, Legolas reached up to embrace him. Strong fingertips dug into his back and travelled along twin paths down both sides of his spine, awaking delicious tingles and shivers, until they found a ridge, the long, rope-like scar of a particularly vicious whip wound. The fingers stilled. Noruion winced, broke the kiss, and would have jumped up, had Legolas’ strong grip not prevented it. He forced himself to look at Legolas, dreading what he would see: lips twisted in distaste, a gaze full of pity, or both.

He saw neither.

‘Do they hurt you?’

‘No. But I—, they...’ Noruion shook his head.

Carefully, Legolas took one of Noruion’s hands and guided it to his lips. He kissed the wide scar circling his wrist, its outline visible under the dark twirls of paint. The loathed mark of shackles, that kept him chained to his past, to treason, and terror. Noruion held his breath.

‘There is no shame in what the enemy did to you. You fought them. You survived, despite their cruelty.’ A muscle shifted in Legolas’ jaw, his hands tightened his grip. ‘Sauron is gone. He could not break you.’

‘He did break me.’ Noruion tried to rise, but Legolas pulled him back down and cupped his head. Their mouths were close enough for Noruion to feel the warmth of Legolas’ breath on his lips.

‘You bested Beleg Cúthalion today. Tauron has named you one of his chosen. Kings and queens bow to you.’ Legolas embraced Noruion again, tightly. ‘I look at your scars and see nothing but the strength of a warrior.’ Legolas prised Noruion’s fist open and kissed the palm, then ran his fingers along the whorls of paint. ‘A fierce warrior, out of legend.’ He shifted, and his erection dug into Noruion’s hip. ‘I want you. I ache for you, my love.’ His eyes were expectant, inviting. Still hungry.

My love. At last, Noruion dared to believe. A pulse of renewed desire made him shudder. Dizzy with joy and lust, he sank into the embrace, pressed his lips against Legolas’ eager mouth, and his body to his lover’s. Legolas’ touch, hot as flame, set his skin on fire.

He could not have said how long they lay like that, reclaiming without hurry what once was familiar, revelling in the thrill of learning it all anew, as beloved now as it once was, and far more precious after having lost it, along with the hope to ever recover it.

Sometime later Legolas gripped his shoulders and drew back a little, breathless. ‘You are killing me,’ he said, his voice hoarse. Reaching blindly, he searched for something on the ground. ‘I found it!’ he cried in triumph, holding up the little glass bottle. ‘Now, if you would climb off me...’

Noruion rolled away. Legolas poured a trickle of oil on his palm and gave Noruion’s cock a few strokes to make it slick, then lay on his back on the grass and began to open himself with his fingers. Mesmerised, Noruion took himself in hand.

‘Stop,’ panted Legolas. ‘You must not come… yet.’

Noruion caressed Legolas along his inner thighs instead, relishing his soft gasps and whimpers. Soon enough Legolas went on all fours and looked over his shoulder. ‘Do it,’ he said. ‘I want you.’

Noruion knelt behind him. Bending over, he brushed his palm down Legolas’ erection and cupped his balls, tight and heavy in his hand. Legolas rocked back against him, shattering Noruion’s last twinges of apprehension. While peppering kisses on his lover’s back, he guided his shaft to the right place with a trembling hand, and began to push in slowly, afraid he would cause hurt.

Legolas had no such qualms. He thrust back, almost knocking Noruion off his knees. Noruion held onto Legolas’ hip to brace himself, and pushed in all the way. He stayed still, savouring the exquisite tightness.

‘Move!’ barked his lover. Ever the one in control, even now. Noruion chuckled and obeyed.

It did not take long. A few thrusts, a few strokes, and both of them found their release. Noruion collapsed on Legolas’ back, a rain of sparks flashing behind his closed eyes. He abandoned himself to the dizziness that took over his body, flooding his limbs with tremors down to the tips of his fingers and toes. Underneath, Legolas shook like a leaf, valiantly holding his weight, but in the end he collapsed to lie flat on the ground, Noruion sprawled on top of him.

When at length he could string his thoughts together, and the world reverted back to a dull silver sheen, Noruion kissed his lover’s nape. With his face buried in Legolas’ hair, he inhaled his warm scent. This was what happiness smelled like.

‘Thank you.’

‘You have it the wrong way round,’ murmured Legolas, his face still against the grass. He turned his head to one side and took a deep breath. Noruion kissed his cheek and tasted tears. Not his own.

‘Legolas?’ Shocked, he slid to the ground, and his friend turned to lie on his side, facing him. ‘Did I hurt you? I was worried. You have never—’ He bit his tongue, too late. Of course Legolas would have felt another man’s cock inside him. Or maybe not a man’s. Sauron’s.

‘No. You did not hurt me. It was perfect.’ If Legolas had noticed Noruion’s blunder, he did not show it. He wiped off the wet trails down his cheeks. ‘This is… nothing.’

Noruion frowned. ‘It has been a long day,’ he conceded. But he hoped it was not over yet. ‘Would you…?’ He opened his arms. Legolas smiled weakly and pressed his body to Noruion’s. He was trembling, and kept fidgeting, as though no position was comfortable on their soft grass bed.

‘Can’t you sleep?’ mumbled Noruion after a while, fighting to stay awake. ‘Is anything wrong?’

‘Everything is fine. I guess I am too excited. You sleep.’ Legolas kissed his brow, and Noruion sighed, sated and happy. The whisper of the maple leaves in the breeze and the gurgling water in the pool lulled him to exhausted slumber, entwined in an embrace with the man he loved.

 

 

‘No... Please, no!’

Noruion staggered into awareness at the sound of Legolas’ voice, and blinked under the bright moonlight.

His lover, lying next to him, was stirring in his sleep. The muscles in his arms and shoulders shifted and strained under the smooth skin. His back arched, his hands stayed clenched on their grassy bed, and his head was flung to one side, then the other, as though in pain.

‘Yes, please. More...’ Legolas sobbed.

Or perhaps not in pain. A glance confirmed his friend’s arousal. But Noruion knew it was no remembrance of their early love making. Legolas was speaking in the High-elven tongue.

Careful not to jolt Legolas out of sleep, Noruion drew him into his arms, cradling his head on his shoulder. Legolas’ cock dug into his thigh. His lover moved against him, rubbing himself for friction. Noruion took him in hand while kissing his brow, his eyes, and his parted lips. Legolas’ ragged breath tickled his nose and lips as he came, after a few firm strokes.

‘Do not hurt him,’ murmured Legolas, struggling to push him away. ‘My lord. Please. Mairon.’ He was still asleep.

Noruion’s heart did a painful flip in his chest. He tightened his arms gently, while kissing Legolas again. ‘Sleep, my love.’ Legolas gave a low whimper and nestled into the embrace, closer to him, tense as a drawn bow despite release.

An owl hooted softly and flapped away. Dawn was coming, betrayed also by the paleness beyond the canopy of maple branches that now began to glow like copper.

Noruion was tired. His shoulders burnt from drawing the bow, and he could feel every single scrape from the climb with Beleg. But all of that was forgotten as he embraced a fretful Legolas, inhaling the scent of his hair and letting it tickle his lips and chin.

‘I won’t let darkness have you,’ he whispered.

White sunbeams filtered through the tree trunks when Legolas started to fight Noruion’s cradling arms in earnest. Noruion held on while murmuring soothing words, but an elbow rammed into his belly forced him to let go.

‘Legolas, stop!’ he cried, winded. ‘You are safe.’

Legolas sat up, eyes wide and fists clenched.

  

~o~

 

The bindings were gone, but Legolas’ heart still thrashed like a trapped wild creature. Slowly, his gaze focused, and he saw trees—maples—above. Next to him, a man sat on his heels, naked, his skin covered in shapes traced in dark dye. The man leant down towards him. Behind the paint, Legolas recognised a familiar face. Not his face. Noruion’s.

Legolas sighed, relieved. The early sun warmed his skin. He took a deep breath.

‘Awake at last?’ Noruion was pressing both hands over a spot under his ribs. ‘I won’t try to kiss you otherwise.’ His smile was pained.

Remembering his struggle, a hot wave of shame crept up Legolas’ cheeks and ears. ‘Did I—? I am sorry. You should have awoken me.’

Noruion shrugged. ‘I thought it might pass.’

Legolas was not fooled. ‘Did I speak?’ Dread fell on him, cold and suffocating as the dream’s memories flooded him. He was spread-eagled on Mairon’s bed, helpless and wanton. Clever hands, a hot mouth… ‘Did I…? What else did I do? Tell me the truth!’

‘You… you thought you were with him. You asked him not to hurt someone. Me, perhaps. That’s all.’

Noruion held Legolas’ gaze, lips pressed tight, but Legolas well knew how his dreams of the Dark Lord inevitably ended.

Chagrin and anger raged through him. Leaping to his feet, he said, ‘I must get ready to leave.’

‘What?’ Noruion grasped his wrist. ‘Leave? No, you can’t. Please.’

Legolas steeled himself and said what must be spoken. ‘Whyever not? You do not need me, and surely you do not want someone at your side so twisted as to crave Gorthaur’s touch.’ His heart hammered in his throat. ‘I would be grateful if you kept my secret, if only for the sake of our friendship.’

He tried to shake his arm free, but Noruion did not let go. He was pale, his jaw clenched, and a dark glare in his eyes. Legolas had expected no less after such a confession; he was glad there was no knife or other weapon at hand.

‘Answer me one thing, the truth, and I will let you go,’ said Noruion. Legolas nodded. ‘Did you mean it, both when you said you saw strength in me despite my scars, and when you called me “my love”?’

‘Yes. Both times.’

The hand locked on his wrist released him and moved up to his shoulder, then caressed his cheek.

‘You said there was no shame in what the enemy did to me. You reminded me that Sauron is gone, and that I survived, despite all.’ Noruion let out a long breath. ‘Tell me how all of this is different for you.’

‘Of course it is completely different. Can you not understand? I was his lover. Willingly. Not at first, but then… I desired him, and I still do! I do not even know if I want to be rid of him. I do love you, as I have never loved anyone, but what can we have, you and I, when I am still in his thrall?’

‘We can have what we had last night, and much more.’ Legolas shook his head, but Noruion carried on, unfazed. ‘What you say he still does to you, what I’ve seen… That only means your scars are inside you. Either you believe your own words about strength and survival or you don’t. If you don’t… you might as well kill me, my lord, because you make me into a traitor who spilled his king’s secrets into the enemy’s ear to buy a chance to live.’

The “my lord” felt like a slap. Worse still, Noruion walked to the table by the pool and returned with a narrow carving knife. He placed the hilt on Legolas’ hand and knelt at his feet.

‘As a man of Eryn Galen, I seek justice. Speak judgement, my lord,’ he said, looking at the ground.

‘Stand up,’ snarled Legolas, disturbed by the ritual words.

‘Not until you do your duty, my lord. It is my right.’

Legolas flung the knife away, but Noruion did not move. With a sigh of defeat, Legolas crouched before his lover.

‘I believed the words I spoke. Of course I did. But there’s still a difference. You have overcome your darkness, while I…’ Noruion’s arms closed around him, warm and safe.

‘Then let me help you.’ Noruion’s fingers tilted Legolas’ chin up to make him look into his eyes. ‘I could ask Beleg to get you more of that limpë. It did the trick last night, didn’t it?’

Legolas laughed, even though the hard knot growing in his throat was threatening him with tears. ‘Now, finally an offer I cannot turn down.’ He chuckled, relieved. ‘But first I need a bath.’

‘The pool looks inviting,’ agreed Noruion, rubbing his thumb on his forearm. The paint didn’t smudge. ‘I’m going to need a good scrub.’ He looked down at himself. ‘Everywhere.’

‘You do know how to seduce a man. A hot bath it is then.’ Legolas stood, and tried to pull Noruion to his feet but his friend did not budge.

‘Your verdict, my lord,’ he insisted.

‘Morgoth’s prick, Noruion, you have already made your point.’

‘I spoke the request.’

Legolas sighed and stood. ‘Hear my judgement, then, man of Eryn Gal—.’ He started again. ‘Hear my judgement, man of Araw, and hear you all, people of Aman and Ennor, if you can hear me. As lord and prince of this man, I declare he is guiltless of treason to the realms I serve, and guiltless of kinslaying also. Not only is he a free man, but I name him a hero amongst the people of Eryn Annûn henceforth.’

Feeling Noruion startle at these last words, he grinned. ‘There. That should be all. Will you rise now?’

Noruion kissed his hand before standing. He seemed subdued. 

‘You called me a man of Araw. Was I wrong to pledge myself to him? I believed I was free to do so. I thought... I thought my oath to your father, and to you, was forsworn. But if I must...’

‘You are not forsworn. And neither are you released from my service, unless you wish it to be so.’ Noruion shook his head. ‘To serve Tauron is an honour; of course you have my leave, even if—.’

An idea caught Legolas’ imagination, and he let his thoughts follow its trail. If Beleg were to consider recruiting more Wardens, who better than Wood-elves to serve the Lord of Forests? Not only would the task bring a new sense of purpose to his people, it might grant Noruion—and Beleg himself—more freedom. The idea was worth exploring further. He sighed; he would have to swallow his pride and speak to Cúthalion. ‘When… when do you need to return to Beleg?’

‘I’m not sure. He had planned to visit Tauron today. I was to go with him.’ Noruion’s eyes glittered. ‘But the Lady may demand his full attention for a while longer. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after. At some point…’

‘I know. You have your duty, as I have mine. But we both will have the opportunity to walk away from those duties from time to time. When you do, will you come and visit me in Eryn Annûn?’ He put his hand up to halt an answer. ‘Before you say yes, know that I have very little to offer. I have been too busy to build my own talan. As my guest, I am afraid you would have to sleep on a grass mattress on the hard ground.’

‘You mean, like we just did?’ ventured Noruion. ‘That may not be such a hardship. I will gladly be your guest, as soon as I am able.’

‘Good.’ Legolas gave a sigh of relief. ‘I must often attend court in Tirion, so I will come and see you too.’

‘I have no hospitality to give, unless you’re willing to share Beleg’s roof,’ said Noruion. Legolas could not avoid a grimace that made his friend laugh. ‘Are you jealous?’

Legolas grunted, non-committally. ‘Let us have that bath, or do I have to keep repeating myself? As you wanted me as your judge this morn, I must declare you guilty of contempt.’

‘Contempt? What drivel is this, just to avoid giving an honest answer?’

Legolas threw up his hands in feigned outrage, and shook his head. ‘Drivel? Let me see.’ He schooled his face to sternness and started counting with his fingers. ‘One: You lied about my dream. Two: You held my wrist prisoner, refusing my command to let go. Three: You forced my hand with cunning trickery, using my own words against me. Four: You are procrastinating about the bath, defying my authority, asking impertinent questions, and using improper language to address me right now… What do you call all that?’

‘So we are back to your arrogant and lordly ways? No more “I am at your mercy,” then?’ Legolas had to bite the inside of his mouth not to laugh at Noruion’s mocking falsetto.

‘Perhaps since you bested me at archery…,’ he replied. ‘Who can refuse a champion? But now— are you joining me or not?’ He began to walk towards the pool.

‘Hmm, it depends.’ Noruion strode at his side. ‘What is the penalty for all these charges you’re slapping on me?’ After a pause he purred, ‘My lord.’

The morning was bright; sunshine had warmed the stone ledge of the pool under their bare feet, and made the water sparkle through the steam. Legolas took a deep breath and turned to stare at his friend and lover, considering his answer. It was such a joy to slip back for a while into their old banter, once the familiar prelude to more intimate games.

‘The Vanyar already believe us to be unruly savages,’ he said. ‘I must prove to them that I am a civilised Sindarin prince who will tolerate neither disrespect nor uncouth behaviour. I have no choice but to be strict, even for a first offence. Harsh, even.’

‘That bad?’ Noruion stared at Legolas wide-eyed, chewing his bottom lip as he sometimes used to do when he was worried. ‘In that case… this won’t matter.’ He shoved him forward, hard.

Legolas lost his balance and flopped into the pool with a huge splash. When he broke through the surface again, sputtering hot water and mortified at his own stupidity—last time he had fallen for such a simple trick he had been fifteen, at most—he saw Noruion doubled over with laughter, a safe two steps back from the edge.

‘You traitor!’ he roared. ‘Just wait till I catch you.’

‘I love you too,’ cried Noruion. With a grin on his face, he leapt into the pool, waded towards Legolas, and pecked him on the cheek before diving underwater. Legolas tried to tackle him but was not fast enough. Through the thick steam and the strewn petals he lost sight of his friend, until he resurfaced at the opposite end of the pool, a smile of triumph on his lips.

Noruion would pay. Oh yes, he would. Just like the old times.

No. Legolas corrected himself. Once a shaft flies, not even the mightiest archer is able to recall it to his bow. They had been granted a second arrow, yet to be shot. Together, they would make it fly true, through the shadows of their past and over the hurdles that life in the Blessed Realm was bound to throw in their way.

But right now, the future would have to wait a little longer.

Legolas swept his dripping hair off his face and glared at his prey. ‘No mercy,’ he said.

Noruion’s smile grew wider.

 

THE END