Forbidden Love

Aragorn came to the sudden realization of why he had not noticed the elf when he had first come in. Legolas’ fair and naked skin blended in almost seamlessly to the light cream-colored blanket draped across his bed. The only thing that stood out in sharp contrast to the bed’s sea of pale cloth was Legolas’ swirling blue eyes and his sun-golden hair fanned out beneath his head on the mattress.

The elf lay stretched out width wise across the thick mattress, his one foot dangling off the edge playfully. His other the leg – the one closest to Aragorn– was pulled up so that his bent knee and thigh tauntingly blocked the man’s view of his bared pelvis and groin. Legolas’ arms lay stretched up lazily over his head almost over the other side of the bed. The sinewy muscles of his chest pulled along his ribs and chest in the most delightful manner.
His brilliant blue irises and his erotic pose across the bed captivated Aragorn in a stunned silence of awe and disbelief.

“I was wondering when you were going to return from your tour...” Legolas finally broke the tense silence between them in the softest voice the king of Gondor thought he had ever heard. The elf’s honey laced syllables danced between the man’s ears as Aragorn struggled with his mind to decide whether or not the achingly beautiful creature he saw sprawled out before him was really there or just a figment of his imagination.

“Legolas...” Aragorn tried to speak coherently, but fumbled badly as all intelligent cohesion of words left his mind of the swift wings of birds.

Legolas smiled coyly at the befumbled man. “I became too hot while waiting for you to return, and then finally just decided that clothing would only be too much of a hindrance anyway...”

Shaking his head as if trying to rattle his thoughts into focus, the man stuttered in shock, “But...What...What are you doing here?”

“Is it not obvious?” the elf practically cooed, staring at him with his soul-piercing blue eyes. His body shifted ever so slightly over the bed as if in hungry anticipation for something. “I’ve come to give myself to you...”

The elf’s words struck something deep within Aragorn’s frozen mind and he was suddenly able to think again outside the captivating beauty of the creature that lay out before him. A storm of thoughts ran through his mind. ‘He came to give himself to me? But why? Why
would he want my love now of all times?’

As if reading the confusion on the man’s face, Legolas said in his soft, lacy undertone, “I have always longed for and wanted you, Aragorn – from the very first time I met you all those years ago... I saw you and it was like a fire had been lit in my soul. I wanted you with every part of my being and more. I wanted you so badly that at times I thought I would go mad if I could not have you...”

Something changed in the elf’s demeanor and he became quieter and more serious. One of Legolas’ arms dropped down to rest on his flat, muscled stomach. Cocking his head to the side to better look at Aragorn but without rising off the bed, Legolas continued on in a low voice of suppressed anguish, “But I knew I could never have you. Even when I first laid eyes on you and wished to call you mine, I knew you could never wish to give yourself to me. What would a man like you, with such a proud and noble heritage and destiny want with me when he had the love of the fair and beautiful Evenstar? What comparison could my love be to you that hers could not? I knew you would only scoff my affections if I ever told you of them, so I hid them, and waited in hope that someday, perhaps, I could somehow gain your love. I thought my dreams would never come true until I saw you looking at me earlier today, with the same yearning and pain that my own heart carries for you...”

Legolas paused, letting his confession hang in the room like a thin misty rain in early spring. Biting on his lower lip nervously he asked in a low, almost frightened voice, “Tell me, Aragorn. Tell me that I have not been wrong in my hopes. Tell me I have not seen something that was not there, and made them to be what I wanted them to be...” For a fleeting moment, the shine of true fear danced in his sapphire eyes as he waited breathlessly for Aragorn to answer, silently begging for reassurance and response.

A numbed sensation froze Aragorn’s mind. All he could do was stare at the naked elf before him. This surely could not be happening... It was like a dream. And yet, here Legolas lay freely giving him his body.

Not trusting his tongue to form the coherent words needed to tell the elf everything he wanted to say, Aragorn felt like he was floating on air as his feet suddenly began to move beneath him, as though he was carried by an invisible force. He slowly rounded the right side of the bed and looked down at the prostrate elf. Aragorn could only stare in total awe at the sumptuous nude body stretched out before him. He carefully stepped up beside the bed, and held
the elf’s soft, questioning gaze for several long seconds of endless eternity.

He slowly reached out a shaking hand and let the tips of his first two fingers gently graze the knee of Legolas’ bent leg. His fingers slowly traced a short line up Legolas’ soft, milky white inner thigh. A warm shiver of hot desire spread through Aragorn’s lower body as he saw how the elf’s silky soft skin quivered appreciatingly under his touch. A soft cry of pleasure escaped the blond archer’s lips as he rolled his head to the side and moaned lightly into the silk coverlet of the bed.

Aragorn’s fingers slowly swept back towards the tip of Legolas’ knee. The man watched in rapt fascination as Legolas’ strong inner thigh muscles tensed and contracted under his tickling touch like woven cords of steel encased in a twitching shell of pure silk.

Reluctantly pulling his hand away from elf elf’s leg, Aragorn looked back up into the deep azure depths of Legolas’ eyes. Complete understanding shined in them. In that single, gentle touch a volume of words had been silently spoken. With that touch, both suddenly knew how much the other had suffered wishing and hoping for the return of a love they had been too afraid to show to each other until now.

Not saying a word, the man leaned down over the prone form spread out before him like a treasure of lace and silk. He skillfully caught the elf’s upturned mouth in a crushing kiss of overflowing passion and devotion.

Legolasediaediately returned the exchange as he freely parted his lips and allowed the man entry, letting Aragorn’s tongue caress and lick hungrily at his own as if his mouth held the very essence of life itself. One of Aragorn’s hand snaked into the flowing rivulets of golden blond hair fanned out beneath his lover’s head. Legolas’ own immediately reached up to grasp a handful of Aragorn’s thick curly tresses, and pulled the man down lower over his naked body.

Aragorn’s mouth soon broke away from Legolas’, intent on claiming other lands of flesh as his own. The elf moaned in distress but was immediately silenced as Aragorn’s mouth slowly traveled down the length of his lover’s slender neck, pecking soft kisses along his throat. Legolas moaned softly as Aragorn shifted from off him and trailed a pearly string of kisses down over his body. The man’s mouth soon passed the rise and dip of the elf’s collarbone and moved lower still in skillful slowness to the darkened nubs of raised flesh standing equally spaced and distanced on either side of Legolas’ chest.

Toying with the left and then moving his ministrations to the right, Aragorn could feel the elf begin to squirm beneath him in mounting pleasure. Wave after wave of warm tingles shot through Legolas’ brain and involuntarily sent the elven prince’s eyes slamming shut. Aragorn’s tongue flicked and toyed with the twin peaks for several long moments, occasionally nipping at one of his lover’s taunt nipples with a delicate pinch of his teeth. Legolas’ murmured moan of pleasure filled the air. Grinning around the small mound of perked flesh in his mouth, Aragorn abandoned his torment of the squirming elf.

A soft cry of dismay went up as Legolas felt the warm, slippery feel of Aragorn’s tongue leave his body. His eyes flew open and snapped down to look just as Aragorn’s head of dark curly tresses was disappearing over the dip of his pelvic bone. He felt more than saw his lover kneel on the ground beside the bed between his legs. A tense moment of anticipation filled the elf before he finally felt the man’s tongue again come in contact with his skin.

Legolas’ back arched over the mattress of the bed as he felt Aragorn’s lips place a series of soft kisses along his inner thighs. His torment swiftly changed as the man’s tongue worked lower and came to the prize laying in wait between the elf’s twitching legs. The elf moaned loudly as he felt his lover’s tongue brush against the satiny undersides of the velvety sacks hanging down on either side of his growing erection.

Physically unable to let his arms lie useless at his sides any longer, Legolas hands flew up over his hand and clawed at the silk coverlet of the bed. The cloth quickly worked its way into a clenchable ball of fabric which Legolas readily began to wring between his fingers, lost in the waves of ecstacy that crashed over him. Aragorn’s tongue ran he lhe length of his hardening member, as if he was licking at a piece of candy. Legolas’ mouth flew open, silently mouthing Aragorn’s name in mute encouragement and praise of the man’s skill.

Momentarily pausing from his careful ministrations, Aragorn sighted up the length of his prostrate lover writhing in blissful pleasure. Strengthened by Legolas subdued moans, Aragorn again dipped down between the elf’s legs to fully claim his waiting prize.

Legolas’ whole member was throbbing, practically begging to be released of the building pressure. Aragorn was only too happy to assist. Leaning down low, the man opened hungrily and in one fluid movement took all of Legolas into his mouth, nearly to the hilt.

The elf’s body went rigid as he felt himself being taken by Aragorn. All his buzzing mind could comprehend was the warm, wet place that now enveloped his whole member in a world of sense-robbing pleasure. A strangled cry escaped the elf’s lips as the retired ranger came to the tip of him, sucking and pulling at the stiffening length of flesh in his mouth. Legolas’ back again arched over the bed as Aragorn began to to repeat his movements, only now adding the element of rolling his tongue down over the flesh as he pulled his mouth upwards over his lover’s throbbing member.

“Aragorn!” Legolas cried out piteously as the man reclaimed the length of flesh back in his mouth once more and repeated the process in agonizingly slow strokes, his tongue working its magic. Panting hard, the elf struggled to encourage the man to move faster, to not delay him the ultimate release with his tauntingly slow licks and pulls any longer. His slender hips bucked upwards, trying to bury himself deeper into the sweet enclosure of his lover’s mouth. A slick sheen of sweat began to glisten over his lithe body. “Please...” he begged between gasps of pleasure, “Please, Aragorn...Faster”

Receiving no hastening of his torture, Legolas’ left leg twitched spastically. His hips again bucked upwards into the warm sticky cavern holding him captive, struggling to find release.

Sensing his lover’s growing agitation to the pace he had set out with, Aragorn snaked his right arm up under Legolas’ squirming leg and stilled it by pulling the silky smooth skin of elf’s inner thigh up against his working cheek and pinning it there beside his face as he continued on in the rhythm he had originally set. Legolas’ captured leg draped over his shoulder and hung down his back like a limp rucksack. He could feel the elf tense and begin to quiver under the teasing licks of his tongue and suck of his lips. Crying out stubbornly, Legolas’ other leg kicked frantically against the bed sheet, demanding more haste. But that one was also stilled with a firm hand pinning the knee down flat against the mattress.

Legolas could feel his breaking point approaching with the speed of a loosed arrow. He could feel his body tensing in anticipation for the final stroke of the man’s tongue that would send him spiraling off the edge into sweet oblivion.

But Aragorn was going so maddingly slow...

Finding no sooner release to his torture of ecstasy, the elf violently wrung the silk coverlet between his fingers until he thought for sure it was mere seconds away from being ripped in two. But before his struggles could escalate to such measures, a sudden rapping at the door paused Aragorn’t tongue mid stroke. Legolas almost cried out in dismay when he felt the man stop his ministrations, but was quickly hushed as the ranger abandoned him from his mouth and crawled up onto the bed atop him. Pressing his two forefingers to the elf’s lips, Aragorn calmly motioned for Legolas to keep silent.

“My Lord Elessar,” came a tentative voice from the other side of the closed door of the room, “My king has sent me to tell you that the feast is ready to be underway...”

Removing his fingers from Legolas’ blood-flushed lips, Aragorn called out in a loud, strong voice of royal curtness, “Thank you. I will be down shortly.”

Legolas’ eyes immediately widened in fear at the man’s words. “Nay...” he practically whined in protest, staring hard into Aragorn’s steel-grey eyes. “Don’t leave me, please,” he begged softly, gently pulling Aragorn’s face down close to his. A hint of threatening devastation tainted his fair and melodious voice. Panic swirled in his sea-blue eyes.

The man could not help but smile at the elf’s desperateness to keep him there with him. It was more than anything he could have ever hoped for. “Fear not, my love,” he whispered reassuringly into the elf’s delicately pointed ear, “I am not going to leave you.”

“But the feast...”

“It can wait. All I care about is you,” he breathed in a husky tone of surging desire. He slowly planted a new trail of kisses down the side of the elf’s slender neck. Legolas slowly began to realize the man truly had no intentions of leaving him and settled back down beneath his lover’s weight. “I have waited too long and hoped too vainly for you to now turn you aside so easily,” he said between each delicate drop of his head to peck at the elf’s softly glowing skin of translucent light. “You are all that matters to me now...”

Legolas seemed to relish these words and dropped back to the mattress as Aragorn’s weight shifted off him. Pulling at the bottom of his tunic, the man quickly retched it up over his head, revealing his taunt and firm chest muscles beneath. Throwing the shirt to the floor carelessly, his hands groped to hurriedly undo the fastenings of his belt.

Since Legolas was already de-robed of any offensive articles of clothing, the elf merely laid back and watched in carefree amusement as his lover struggled to rid himself of his clothes. He would have probably liked to have assisted Aragorn, but for now the blond archer was content to only watch. In an awkward sort of strip show, the human’s well tanned flesh slowly began to bear itself more and more to Legolas’ watching eyes. Legolas’ eyes wandered down low to the darkened junction where the man’s legs joined at the pelvis as Aragorn manago fio finally kick his pants free from his body.

“You have been well endowed,” Legolas commented softly, raking his eyes hungrily across the man’s groin.

“But not as well as you, my love,” he replied in a low predatorial growl. Aragorn’s lips curled up into a roguish smile that seemed to only hint at what dark and sinful plans he had for his “endowment.”

Finally stripping himself free of his last article of clothing, Aragorn carefully settled himself back over his waiting lover. Both man and elf could immediately feel the jolt of electricity jump between them as their naked skin came into connect. It was like a bolt of lightening had shot through them and bound their souls together in that very instant. Lowering himself down atop the elf’s slender body, Aragorn immediately marveled at how perfect Legolas’ body seemed to fit against his, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that had finally found its mate.

Face to face and barely inches apart, the two could only gaze awe-struck into each other’s eyes, staring into each other’s soul like looking glasses. Complete love and adoration shined in both pairs of captivated eyes. And for a moment, both Legolas and Aragorn felt that if they could keep this connection, they would never have to words again, but only look into each other’s souls to understand all tneedneeded to be said.

But such a bond could not be kept in contact for all eternity and Legolas understood this.

Breaking his gaze with Aragorn, the elf craned his head up and caught the man’s mouth in his own. Legolas closed his eyes and let his hungry tongue lick over the honey-sweet lips of his lover, savoring the taste of the king.

Aragorn reciprocated by bringing one hand up to caress the side of Legolas’ cheek with the backs of his forefingers as he and his lover’s tongues rolled and fought for dominance. The man’s free hand ran up and down the elf’s side coaxingly. A subdued moan of pleasure escaped from around Legolas’ locked lips as Aragorn tickled and teased his fingers across his sweat-slicked ribs.

Their passion steadily mounted. The two soon began to savagely claw at each other, desperate to feel the other closer to their already pressed bodies. The momentary interruption seemed to have only intensified each other’s need for the other.
Legolas shifted beneath his lover, moving his hips up to cradle Aragorn’s manhood between his legs. His arms snaked up and wrapped around the ranger’s broad shoulders and pulled him lower.

He wanted more. He was not longer content with only the man’s kisses and mouth. He wanted to feel Aragorn in him, claiming him as his own.

Legolas’ hips bucked upwards, and ground against Aragorn’s groin impatiently. A sharp gasp escaped the man and he broke their kiss. A smile graced his tanned face as he felt the elf pleadingly press up against him.

“Patience, my love, patience,” he whispered seductively into Legolas’ delicately pointed ears.

“No...” the blond archer whimpered in stubborn protest, “I want to feel you now. Take me now.”

If it hadn’t been for the desperate note of pleading tainting the undertone of Legolas’ voice, Aragorn might have prolonged his playful torment of the elf. But it felt too cruel of thing to do. As he looked down into the liquid blue depths of the fair and beautiful creature beneath him, he realized he wanted Legolas just as much as he wanted him. The intense yearning between his loins was becoming too much to ignore.

Aragorn nestled himself down lower between Legolas’ legs. As the elf felt his lover’s hardening member brush up between him, Legolas wantonly spread his legs further apart to allow the man access to both of their desires. Reaching up over his head, Legolas gripped a handful of the silk coverlet of the bed, preparing to receive the forceful thrust he anticipated Aragorn would use to claim him with. He closed his eyes and waited for penetration.

But instead of feeling himself impelled by a powerful battering ram of flesh, Legolas felt the man’s soft lips graze his own in a tender kiss. From beyond the darkness of his closed eyelids, he heard Aragorn whisper close to his ear, “Patience, my love. For you will be screaming my name much sooner than you think...”

With that, the tip of Aragorn’s sex slowly slipped inside the elf’s body. Legolas immediately tensed and squirmed, crying out sharply as his body stretched uncomfortably to the size of his lover’s shaft. Aragorn paused and did not press in any farther. He waited patiently for the elf’s initial discomfort to pass. Finally after a few moments, Legolas lay quit and still, panting heatedly beneath him.

Legolas moaned urgently, becoming again impatient and wanting more, yearning for gratification.

Dipping his head down, Aragorn sucked at the base of Legolas’ neck, eliciting himself a low purr of approval from the elf. And then, with one long thrust that took him all the way to the hilt, Aragorn claimed his lover completely.

The elf gasped in surprise. His head snapped back onto the mattress as his body writhed with ecstacy. His left leg instinctively shot up and wrapped around the man’s waist. Enveloped in his own world of pleasure, Aragorn buried his face in the crook of Legolas’ shoulder and moaned into the thick coverlet beneath. It felt like he had slipped into the warm, all encompassing embrace of a warm bath. His spine tingled with the numbed sensation of his person being completely enclosed in the warmth of Legolas’ soft velvety passage.

Starting slow, Aragorn withdto tto the tip then thrust forward again, setting a strong but steady pace. Legolas rocked his hips to the man’s rhythm perfectly. Aragorn had to bite his bottom lip to keep back the strangled cry of pleasure building in his throat as he thrust again and again into the elf, each time with more intensity and power than the last. The blond archer’s body began to tremble as Aragorn continued to hit the same spot of carnal pleasure deep inside him over and over again.

Limbs intertwined and body pressed together in a crushing embrace as if they clung to each other for dear life, two cwo continued their dance of love. A melody of moan and cries of sinful delight rose and began to fill the air.

Finding his pace becoming too slow for the throbbing pleasure of his flesh anymore, Aragorn stabbed forward with unforseen power and strength. He had to steady the elf’s hips with his hand as he began to beat to a faster rhythm. He could feel Legolas’ nails digging into his shoulder, no doubt breaking skin and leaving shallow half-moon shapes of red. But the pain seemed distant and only added to the maelstrom of swirling sensations numbing his senses in an euphoria of sexual pleasure.

Legolas writhed helplessly beneath him. He relished the way the elf’s velvety walls clenched around him needfully as he drove himself deeper and deeper with every bone-jarring thrust. His hips ground mercilessly into the elf, crushing Legolas’ one leg flat against the mattress at an odd angle.

“Ai! Aragorn... please...Ai!...” the elf cried loudly, untangling one of his arms from around the man’s broad shoulder and grabbing a handful of the cream silk cover above his head. “Ah!” he gasped as the man struck home once more, “... Aragorn ...please.”

Upon hearing Legolas’ pleading voice, Aragorn forced himself to resurface from out of his swirling sea of bliss to look down at lover’s face.

Legolas head was turned to the sistarstaring out into the empty room. His brilliant blue irises shimmered with an unnatural light from behind the half-closed slits of his eyes. His sweat lathered chest heaved with irregular gasps and moans. But while this sent shivers down

Aragorn’s spine at the sheer beauty of his bed-racked lover, the man did not fail to miss the pained looking grimace twisted across the fair creature’s face. For one sickening moment, the man’s heart stopped dead in his chest with the sudden and revolting belief that he was inflicting pain, and that Legolcriecries were of ones begging for Aragorn to stop.

Aragorn immediately froze, unconsciously stopping with his shaft still buried deep between his lover’s legs. Legolas’ eyes flew all the way open in surprise at the man’s sudden stop and looked up with an expression of total confusion. His hand dropped the handful of cloth wrapped in his fingers at the sight of the anguish swimming in the man’s eyes and reached up uncertainly to caress the ranger’s cheek. “What is wrong?” he asked, bewilderehe she sudden feeling that something was wrong sent the elf’s heart racing.

“I am sorry, Legolas,” Aragorn whispered, “I...I did not mean to hurt you.”

Realization dawned. “Nay...” Legolas whispered in soft reassurance. He reached up and cupped both of Aragorn’s cheeks with his hands tenderly. “You are not hurting me, love. There is nothing you could do right now that could bring me more pleasure...” Pulling the man’s face down over his own, Legolas let his lips speak all the reassurance he could give. Breaking away, he ordered seductively, “Now finish what you have started...”

Doubt still lingered in the man’s mind. Despite Legolas’ reassurance, he still could not help think that he had somehow been putting his love through unnecessary pain.

Growing impatient with the ranger’s hesitation, the elf rolled his hips up aggressively against Aragorn, earning himself a low groan of pleasure from the king. Reaching down hrmlyrmly clasped the man’s buttock in his hand. Aragorn looked down at his lover in momentary confusion. The elf only smiled back coyly as he squeezed Aragorn’s butt cheek and pulled him forward, pushing the man deeper within him. Kneading his hips in small circles around Aragorn’s buried sex and pumping the man’s bottom back and forth at the same time, Legolas pulled Aragorn into this new rhythm.

Legolas’ head rolled back against the mattress and moaned deeply as his hips undulated and rolled agilely around his partner’s hardness.

Aragorn’s own cry of ecstacy rang out as he felt the elf’s slick walls squeeze down around him. Forgetting his trepidations, he retook control and pumped his hips on his own accord, though Legolas’ hand remained clenched around his rump and continued to guide him straight and true down into his love-slicked passage.

“Aragorn...Ai!...please...Ah! Faster...Ai!” Legolas panted, punctuating his plaintive cries with an exclamation of utter bliss each time Aragorn hit home against the sensitive spot of sexual pleasure hidden deep inside him. His leg wrapped tighter around the man’s moving waist, trying to pull him closer. His other twitched uncontrollably, pinned down uselessly against the bed by the position of his lover laying atop him. “Please...please...Ai!”

Driven half-mad by the elf’s wild cries of ecstacy, Aragorn pistoned harder, slamming his weight up through Legolas’ slender body. Using one hand to keep himself propped up on the bed over the writhing form beneath him, Aragorn snaked his other down between his and Legolas’ slippery bodies.

Legolas cried out loudly as he felt the man’s hand wrap around his still un-gratified member. Jerking on the still stiffened length of pulsating flesh, Aragorn felt the elf convulse blindly up against him. He milked at the blond archer skillfully, pumping to the rhythm of his moving hips. With hardly any exceptional effort, Legolas was quickly brought to height, throbbing and quivering in the wake of the deft ministrations of the ranger’s strong hand. The elf’s entire groin soon throbbed with the intense heat of sexual fire. His sapphire eyes rolled into the back of his head as wave after wave of undescribable pleasure crashed over him.

Aragorn could feel himself reaching his breaking point. Legolas’ walls tightened around him like a velvety womb of safety and warmth. His eyes fluttered then slammed shut. Massaging the swollen mass clenched in his hand, Aragorn brought Legolas to within seconds of climax.

He wanted them to reach perfect nirvana together, as one singular being forged in the union of two souls bound together by the pure and unbreakable bonds of love.

With one final thrust of his hips and caress of his hand, Aragorn and Legolas were brought over the threshold of ultimate bliss and swallowed by the misty haze of complete satisfaction and fulfillment. Their twin cries of utter pain and pleasure slowly died in their throats and faded away into the still air like the lingering notes of ethereal music.
s Ars Aragorn drooped down, totally spent, over Legolas’ sweat-drenched form, he laid formal claim to the elf as his own in a series of hot, streaming spurts of fluid. Legolas’ own mark of property lay smeared between their pressed bodies, coating his lover’s hand and both their stomachs in a thin film of milky fluid.

Unable to support his exhausted body over the elven prince any longer, Aragorn collapsed down atop the slender form. Had it been anyone else he had just made love to, the man would have probably rolled off to the side, afraid of crushing his partner under his weight. But he held no such fear with Legolas. He knew the elf could easily support his weight on him. He was stronger than what his slender form gave him credit for.

Panting heavily in spent fiery exertion, the man and elf lay motionless, tangled together in an intertwined mass of arms and legs, basking in the warm after-glow of their love making.

Regaining enough strength to lift his head, Aragorn mouth slowly nibbled up along Legolas’ jaw line until he finally found the sweet reward of the elf’s partially opened mouth. He tenderly kissed the blond archer. “I love you,” he whispered into Legolas’ ear. Nothing more than those three simple words seemed better capable of articulating the burning emotion filling his entire being and soul. He gazed into the elf’s brilliant blue eyes.

“As I you,” Legolas answered in a low purr, “And nothing in this world will ever change that. Nothing will ever separate you from me again...”

Aragorn could hardly hold back the tears that wanted to spill from his eyes. Legolas loved him. In all his long years of fanciful dreamings of this day, he had never thought that that tiny admission of affection could hold such profound meaning to him. He was almost afraid it was still a dream, a fantasy that he would wake from at any secoo fio find his life still empty and without meaning. But no. It was not a dream. Legolas loved him. He loved him. The single thought buzzed through his brain, filling him with the most complete sense of satisfaction and joy he thought he had ever or would ever feel again.

Unsheathing himself from the still vibrating passage of his lover, Aragorn rolled from off the elf’s slender body. Pulling Legolas up with him, the man fell back against the soft pillows of the bed. He leaned back against the headboard and drew the elf to him. Legolas submissively let himself be moved and positioned as Aragorn cradled his slender body up against his broad and muscular chest. Legolas moaned contently as he wrapped his arms around Aragorn’s torso and tucked his head under the man’s beard-stubbled chin like a sleepy child. His legs draped lazily across the ranger’s outstretched body like a blanket of living silk.

Hugging the elf to him, the man kissed the top of Legolas’ head tenderly. A soft, natural smell – like that of the forest after a spring rain– wafted up to Aragorn’s nose from the elf, lulling him into a peaceful state of mind. “You smell good,” he commented softly, closing his eyes and letting the scent fill his nose like an exotic perfume.

“That is more than I can say for you...” Legolas murmured playfully against Aragorn’s sweat soaked chest. The elven prince’ words seemed distant and slightly slurred, as if he was slowly beginning to slip away into the warm embrace of sleep.

The man only smiled, letting the elf’s baited taunt go unbitten. Unwinding his left arm from around Legolas, Aragorn slowly ran his hand through the elf’s slightly disheveled mane of think blond hair like a comb, appreciating each strand’s silky softness as it glided between his fingers and fell back against Legolas’ sinewy back in a flowing cascade of gold. Freeing his hand from the downy locks, he tenderly tucked several stray strands of blond hair behind the point of his lover’s ear. His hand then moved down to let the tips of his fingers run up and down the length of Legolas’ spine in gentle caress. A murmured sigh of content vibrated against his chest.

“What are you thinking?” Aragorn heard Legolas ask dreamily.

Aragorn’s hand continued to stroke the elf’s back in long luxurious passRestResting his cheek against the top of Legolas’ head, he whispered, “I am thinking how for the first time in my entire life, I am truly happy...” He felt the prince smile against the soft underside of his neck, and immediately knew he had spoken aloud the same thoughts of the elf’s own mind.

For several long moments of contented silence, the twst lst laid there, naked but clothed in the warm embrace of his lover’s arms. But as the bright sunlight of the summer day began to wan and dim with the lengthening shadows of evening outside, Legolas’ peace of mind was troubled by a sudden thought.

“What do we do now?” he asked quietly. He dipped his head out from under Aragorn’s chin and pulled away from his lover’s arms to sit on his knees on the bed and properly look Aragorn in the eyes.

“What do you mean, my love?”

The elf’s sapphire eyes shimmered like twin diamonds in the dying light that filtered in through the far windows of the room. “What of Arwen?” he said in a tight voice, “Your love is already bound to her in marriage and in pledge...”

Aragorn’s eyes softened with bitter memory. “Yes. I am still bound by marriage to Arwen...” he stated quietly, as if trying to calmly convince his mind that what he said was true.

A shadow of anguish passed over the elf’s face.

It was as he had feared. Though he had finally found his one true love and given himself away completely in both body and soul to this mortal man he loved, he could never truly call Aragorn his. And for one fleeting moment, Legolas almost wished he had never confessed his love to the man, for it had gained him nothing but only more loneliness and grief in the end than if he had just lived the rest of his immortal life with the belief that Aragorn had never shared his emotions ove. ve. A tear single of bitter hopelessness streaked down the elf’s porcelain cheek.

Seeing the elf’s distraught pain, Aragorn reached gently brushed away the tear stain from Legolas’ cheek with the back of his fingers. “Do not cry,” he said, “For though the tie of marriage exists, it does not bind me...” Legolas’ eyes slowly rose to meet his lover’s, rekindled hope silently swimming in his azure depths.

Caressing the elf’s cheek with the back of his hand, Aragorn said softly, “My is is mine to give to whom I wish. My pledge to Arwen was out of desperateness to fill the empty void in my heart which you already held, and so it was also the same for our marriage. I hold her dear to my heart, but I do not love her as I love you. She will never compare to you, Legolas. You are who I bind my soul and undying love to...”

Unbidden tears of joy stung Legolas’ eyes. With Aragorn’s words, all of Legolas’ fears and doubts had disappeared. His lower qui quivered with a smile of restored hope and purpose. “And I bind my soul and undying love to you...” the blond archer whispered softly as if in answer to Aragorn’s pledge of devotion and love.

Legolas and Aragorn stared silently into each other’s eyes, letting the quiet of the deepening night fill the air. No words needed to be said to fill the void, for their unbroken gaze spoke volumes of meaning that words alone could have never hoped to fully convey or express. They did not have to convince each other of his love, for they saw it shining there each other’s eyes – the divine window to the soul.

As if consumed by the same intense desire to taste the sweet essence of his lover’s lips again, the two leaned into each other at the same time and met with a deep and fiery kiss of passion. As their lips encased each other’s mouth hungrily, Aragorn gently pulled the elf back down into his arms and hugged him to his chest. Legolas fell into his arms without protest and settled back with his body closely pressed up against the man.

Their lips slowly parted and their eyes met again.

With a small smile of absolute content gracing his face, Legolas rested his head against his lover’s broad shoulder and draped an arm and a leg over Aragorn’s body almost possessively. Aragorn’s arms snaked around the slender form of the elven prince, a smile of contentment also etched across his face. The ranger’s hand againk upk up the rhythm of gently stroking along the length of the archer’s bare back, as if he were petting a cat from the tips of its ears to the tip of its tail. Legolas sighed appreciatingly.

“Will things always be like this?” Legolas murmured quietly against the man’s chest as he nestled his head under Aragorn’s chin and listened to the steady beat of the heart beneath his ear.

“This perfect and wonderful, you mean?” he asked softly, “Yes. Yes, I think it will. Because nothing will ever separate you from me again. We are bound together by love and devotion, and nothing will ever break that bond...” he said with stest bst belief.

But a tiny gnawing concern still haunted Legolas. “But do you think the others will accept our love for each other? Will they understand?” he asked softly, “Will they accept us?”

Aragorn remained quiet for a moment of thoughtful silence. “I cannot say for sure. But when that time comes, we will rise to meet it head-on. I will never hide my love for you again, and nothing anyone says will ever make me. You are a part of me that can never be taken away, no matter how much they might not understand or accept it. For I love you, and that is the only thing that matters to me anymore...” Aragorn’s arms tightened around Legolas and hugged him closer, as if daring anyone to try and test his claim of never being separated from the elf again, whether in body or in spirit.

That was all Legolas needed to know. His body instantly melted in the man’s embrace as he relaxed completely with the knowledge that nothing in the world could ever make Aragorn break his word; for he was a noble man who would never make a promise he could not keep. All the worries and cares that had been plaguing his troubled mind seemed to fade away in that very moment, as if they had been sown to the four winds. And for the first time in ages, his mind felt clear and at total peace with the world.

“Do you still wish to attend the feast?” Legolas whispered sleepily over the soft heartbeat of the man in his ears, “King Glinthul has probably by now noticed your absence and is wondering where you are...”

“Let him wait a little longer. I just want to stay here with you like this a little longer. It will not matter if we are a little bit late,” he said into the waves of golden hair tickling his nose, “I am too happy here to move just yet...”

“Then stay,” Legolas suggested indulgently as he snuggled up against him persuasively.

And to Aragorn, this seemed like a good idea.

Smiling, he let his mind wander as the elf’s sweet, earthen smell filled his nose and consumed him with a sense of undescribable satisfaction and content. As they lay there intinedined in each other’s arms, he could feel Legolas’ breathing slow against his chest as the prince slowly began to slip away into the sweet and peaceful realm of elven sleep.

As he felt the elf drift off in his arms, the man ran his hand over the elf’s thick mane of silky blond tresses. He gently stroked Legolas’ head, careful not to disturb his lover’s tranquil sleep.

‘I will wake Legolas in a few minutes, and then we will go down to feast together... I must make an appearance there or it may look bad with Glinthul. And I’m sure Legolas must be hungry...”

But as his hand ran through the curtain of pure silk, Aragorn could feel the strenuous effects of their earlier love making quickly catching up to him. He suddenly felt tired. His eyelids felt heavy, and his head felt so comfortable resting there against the pillow of Legolas’ head.

All thoughts of feasts or political appearances soon faded from any of Aragorn’s immediate concerns. He felt so at peace – at home – laying there wrapped in Legolas’ warm embrace with the elf cuddled up against him.

Though he valiantly fought off the gentle and seductive call to sleep, Aragorn felt his resolve slowly breaking. His eyelids began to droop low. A hazy mist seemed to surround him as the waking world began to fade away into the ethereal realm of dreams.

‘I will only rest my eyes for a few minutes... That’s all. Then I’ll wake Legolas and we’ll go down to the feast together...”

But for every battle or contest of wills he had ever fought in and triumphed over, the retired ranger and king could not win this fight. And just before he joined his lover in the blissful embrace of sleep and untroubled dreams, Aragorn realized that for the first time in his entire life he was finally truly happy...


Fin.