Her Eyes Were Like the Sea

By Gwyn

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Summary: Legolas’ sea-longing manifests itself in a dream.

Genre: Angst/Romance

Age: Fourth Age

Rated R

Warnings: Rating for sexual innuendo. Possibility of slight AU—I took some liberties when it came to the sea-longing, and the Elvish reaction to it. I do not believe that my work specifically contradicts that of Tolkein, but personal opinion may vary.

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That is strange...

            “I do not believe I have seen you before.”

            The waves droned, in and out. They muted strangely, under a slate-grey sky. The coast was sleepy and silent, and his throat felt stuck. Sound would not come, but... Legolas wondered if he WANTED to break the thick hush that blanketed the place. It had a dreamlike quality, and there, the prince felt as if he were stuck on the verge of waking dreams.

            Tide did not crash, as per usual, but rather slunk in—a dull whisper in the back of his mind. Legolas doubted they made any real sound. For all he knew, it was imaginary like the beach. This place was pretend as well, but consistent with the eve before, and before... and before... The spot was fictional, but he knew it well. It was part of his subconscious, after all.

            But... who are YOU?

            Her gaze was strong and pulsating; it drew in and out, in and out, enticingly... she stood like she knew him, but he did not recognize her and it rattled him. Every night, he wandered the seaside in his mind, and never had he met another person. Why was tonight different?

            Dreams, for his kind, were carefully controlled. He had a strict desire to be alone in his lust, and always had.

That was the way it should have been, for no foreigners dare interrupt an elvish reverie.

This is my dream... “What are you doing here?”

Her eyes were silver, but not...  expressionless, but teasing. They made him feel a pang of... of... he did not know what. Déjà vu, perhaps? Legolas resisted the urge to shake his head. Was he losing his mind? This dream was strange and dizzy, like a rush, and the waves were not their raucous selves. They were quiet and seductive and it was oddly horrifying In and out, they came and went...

The gulls’ cried, but the sound did not echo. Humidity, there was. In fact, it felt as if a bout of inclement weather was approaching, but the air lacked any surge of electricity to signal it.

Legolas pursed his lips at both phenomena. It felt like rain, but it did not, and there was a stranger in his dream.

            “You...” he forced himself to speak again. “Strangers do not belong in dreams of my people.”

            In and out... In and out... the whispering crash of the sea, oddly enough, failed to affect him. The Elf prince felt numb like the sky, which failed to thunder He was like the gulls, whose song failed to pierce. Legolas was numb, like his ears felt stuffed with cotton. Where he should have been torn to bits, he felt nothing.

            He narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?” I have not any Sight, akin to that of Lady Galadriel...

            Her figure was not particularly horrid—quite the contrary, in fact, but her very presence granted a gnawing sensation in the pits of his stomach. When he met her stare again, terror and glee assaulted him. The eyes, oh, gods, the eyes! They were...

            ... and yet, a stranger walks my dream paths.

The girl’s glare assaulted him. Ai! They sting me with familiarity, but from whence?

            “Answer me, woman!”

She merely smiled.

            Her eyes, they were like...

            The smile did not reach her eyes, however, when she chose to respond. “You know me;” she said. Her lips continued in that ambiguous scarlet crescent. “You dream of me often.”

            Her flirting gaze went in and out. The ocean danced in and out, in and out... Gulls cried mutely. The sand was cold beneath Legolas’ bare feet. “Nay.” He told her. “I dream of memories.” He kept her gaze firmly. Regally, even, but it made him quake inside.

            Her eyes...  he connected abruptly. Her eyes were like the sea!

            The realization made his heart flutter in his breast, but centuries of court and commanding managed to hide that. As soon as he figured it out, he could well imagine the orbs in union with that roaring tide. The grey (no, green! Perhaps blue? And a hint of black...) even winked like swells on a winter morn.

            Pure seduction, beset by that blasé little smile.

            You tempt me. He scowled mentally. A figment of my imagination, I am sure. I spent so much time with Mortals, that now I earn their sleep-patterns!

            He shuddered at the prospect. Of the Eldar, he was, and he could not navigate his own trance? His pulse began to race, Legolas clenched his fists. Just breathe, Legolas. In and out...

            In and out went the surf. The gulls screamed, and the humidity stifled him.

            The sand was cold in his toes.

            “My dreams walk in memories. I do not remember you.”

            “But you do.”   She spoke a tired monotone. She peered down her nose and flicked her hair over her shoulder. “You do remember me.” She stepped towards him, and traced his lips with one long forefinger. She lowered her head and looked up at him now.

Her eyes are black now... like Earendïl’s starry sea... His breath echoed in his head and he gulped. Nay! He urged himself. I cannot fall for this! Legolas pushed her hand away. “Intruder.”

            “Do not lie to yourself,” she reprimanded lightly. “It is quite unfit for a prince, really.” She licked her lips and touched his cheek. He screamed at himself to recoil... in fact, the rational part of himself bristled at the contact but... it gave him goose bumps and he found himself leaning towards her.

            What are you doing!? Get away from her, she is poison!

            Alas, though, Legolas’ gaze fell from taunting eyes to the slender figure of a perfect throat. My resolve is slipping... I do not wish to succumb to physical whim but...

“Oh, come now,” she beckoned softly, and deftly explored the workings of his buttons. Her touch was soft, and he was eager for it. Ai, his mind cried, my control ebbs like the tide! How long, how long can I stand it?

            His elf-eyes explored a tantalizingly low neckline, and a horrified Legolas found that his hands wished to do so as well. A violent yearning he found, like a tempest in his breast. She flipped her locks, and he longed to feel them. She moved, and he wished to move with her. She looked at him, and knew his mind

            She glittered with triumph. “I took you easily.”

Legolas almost failed to notice that she spoke at all, but her tone was dusky like her hue, and worked into his desire. It was deep and soulful like mallorn trees... different from before... He gasped, and struggled to avert his eyes.

            “You...”

            “I what?” she whispered, for Legolas had unconsciously approached her. She pressed herself close to him. “I was your pain in the midst of battle. I could be your comfort.” She breathed in his ear, in and out.

In and out... The gulls cried and circled about them, watching intently. The turf beneath him was cold, and the humidity made breath come heavily. “I...”

A slender hand shushed the prince. “Come, dear prince.” She coaxed him. Her tongue flicked about the tapered point of his ear, and he shuddered in delight. “You know you want me.”

            In and out... in and out... the gulls gradually quieted. The sand was cool, but sweat beaded his brow. “How could you...” Legolas choked out as his hands unclasped her dress. His question was silenced for the moment, for her mouth was in his, and her digits were entangled in his platinum hair. “How...” he pulled away from her. “...in the midst of battle? What do you speak of, lady?”

            She smirked, and nibbled Legolas’ bottom lip. “Don’t ask questions,” she told him, and wrapped her arm around his neck, bringing her face closer to his.

            He sighed, relenting to suck on her upper lip, and closed his eyes. The world rocked back and forth, with the in-and-out, easy lilting of the waves. The sea birds crooned and flapped overhead.

            Contouring her spine with his fingers, he rested his head in the crook of her neck. She smelt of salt and wind, and he inhaled the scent. Bliss, it was intoxicating, and tickled the fancy in his breast.

            “You smell of the sea...,” he murmured absently, extricating himself from her embrace. “I know you... but I do not.”

            “You do.”                                                               

            In and out... in and out... the waves came, and her eyes teased. Gulls played in the sky, and plummeted to watery depths. She dipped her tongue into the hollow above his collarbone. He gritted his teeth in pleasure and terror. “Please!” He demanded of her, “Where have I seen you?”

“You have not seen me,” the nameless woman said, “I rock you to sleep each night.”

            “Lady?”

            She shook her head , then, flashing brilliantly with impatience. “Take me now!”

            With that, she pushed the elf onto the ground, and straddled his hips. “You resist me.” She said, and set about remedying that. Exquisite hands removed his tunic, and he set about exposing her torso as well. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

His desire now burned within him, but his stomach still felt empty and wrong. That is because this IS wrong! Do not fall for her games!  “I would never.” He said despite his brief soliloquy, and dug at the sand with his heels.

            She grinned slyly, and lowered herself onto him. “But you do.” Her eyes flickered, and her voice rose to a chant. “Come to me, child, and I shall take away your pain...”

            Unconsciously, Legolas’ pelvis bucked as she moved to taste his navel, but something stirred in his memory.

“Do you know me yet?” she asked. Suddenly, inexplicably, all that wrongness accumulated in him, and Legolas scrambled to escape her. No, no, it cannot be true!

            You do remember me.

            I took you easily.

            She cannot be! It is impossible!

            I was your pain in the midst of battle.

            In and out... in and out...

            Alas, for the wailing of the gulls!

            I rock you to sleep each night.

            Alas!

            Take me now.

            ... the wailing...

            You know you want me.

            I could be your comfort.

            ... the gulls!

            You resist me.

            “I do resist you!” He backed away, but the gulls closed in, jeering at him. They herded him towards the wretch! “Leave me be!”

            Some façade shattered that instant, and her smile became a grimace, her eyes like ice. “Sail!” she ordered furiously, “Sail, Elf, or would you forsake the Valar’s call?”

The birds rose in frenzy, screaming and flailing, and in, out, in, out, the tide rushed in! It roared in his ears, and the gulls laughed and laughed. The peaceful silence, the unreal daze of the place fell away. Even the sky began to boil, and Legolas quaked.

            His numbness fled, too, and his heart began to feel. The song of the water threatened to overwhelm him. The gulls shrieked, and pierced his heart. The water clapped, and it stung his ears. And this girl, she made him feel nauseous.

             “You would abandon your kin!” she accused, and her voice grated at his eardrums.

“I would not!” He felt hysterical, and his eyes burned in humiliation and rage. “But neither would I forsake my friends!”

            “Friends!?” the female sputtered, “What sort of friends are they? They are destined to leave you, to your own demise!” She screamed in rage, beating his torso in her fury. “Sail, damn you! Sail!”

            “Get away from me!” He shoved her back, even shocked at the boldness of his gesture. She was a female, after all. She drew back, and all the gulls flocked protectively about her. They burned like fire, and she crouched behind their protection. The cowardice of the act bolstered his confidence, and quieted his panic.

            “I shall not sail,” he told her calmly, leaving his alarmed fury to the wind. “Not yet, anyway.”

            With that, Legolas walked away, and she watched him.

            He felt the gaze on his back. She was always watching, and he knew her eyes.

            After all, her eyes were like the sea.

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WHEN we two parted  

             In silence and tears,  

Half broken-hearted  

To sever for years,  

Pale grew thy cheek and cold,         

Colder thy kiss;  

Truly that hour foretold  

Sorrow to this.  

The dew of the morning  

Sunk chill on my brow—  

It felt like the warning  

Of what I feel now.  

Thy vows are all broken,  

And light is thy fame:  

I hear thy name spoken,  

And share in its shame.  

They name thee before me,  

A knell to mine ear;  

A shudder comes o'er me—  

Why wert thou so dear?   

They know not I knew thee,  

Who knew thee too well:  

Long, long shall I rue thee,  

Too deeply to tell.  

In secret we met—  

In silence I grieve,  

That thy heart could forget,  

Thy spirit deceive.  

If I should meet thee  

After long years,  

How should I greet thee?  

With silence and tears.

                        “When We Two Parted,” By George Gordon Byron (Lord Byron)

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On the seduction, and Legolas’ rather Un-Elvish fall to temptation: I took a personal liberty with this piece, and tried a new spin on the old sea longing. By canon, elves walk their dream paths as memories, seeing pictures of good times in their lives. Here, Legolas’ situation is vastly different. However, I do not see this as strictly AU. It was never written that elves did not have uncontrolled dreams—especially with Legolas’ unique case of sea-longing-resistance. His mind, in my opinion, was under severe stress, and could plausibly open him up to a mortal-type dream. In fact, Legolas does realize the oddness of his sleep that night, and observes it in the beginning of the story.

Dreams, for his kind, were carefully controlled. He had a strict desire to be alone in his lust, and always had.

That was the way it should have been, for no foreigners dare interrupt an elvish reverie.

This is my dream... “What are you doing here?”

            Tolkein also wrote on Elven sexuality. In short, and elf would NOT meet some girl on the beach, and bang her then and there... or come close, as was the case here. Again, I do not see my interpretation as AU. The summary stated, “Legolas’ sea longing manifests itself in a dream.” Specifically, the longing manifested itself in the form of a female. *Neon signs point at unnamed OFC* There! If you didn’t pick up on it, she WAS the sea longing and thus, her entire being’s purpose was to seduce. Who was to say that Legolas did not slip up in resisting the sea’s call once or twice? What happened here was a metaphor of one such situation.

On Lord Byron: I found this poem in my Literature textbook, shortly after I wrote the first draft, and found that it fit perfectly. Kudos to him for writing an uber-cool poem.

 Special thanks to everyone who Beta’d for me!

 *ahem* Review, if you please!