Ringspell

Chapter 25.
Once more, with feeling...

Part I

It was not that he wanted the man, sexually. Not really. Legolas had never really wanted anyone that way. It was a desire he had never fully understood, the need to dominate, possess.

He was sure that Aragorn wanted him, though. He felt the Ranger's eyes upon him as he made his way over to the lounge, recognized the intensity in his friend's stare, as he sat down and watched the man draw closer.

There was something different about this one, this quiet, reserved Ranger who had so quickly befriended him. He felt safe with Aragorn, secure.

"Drink?" Legolas offered, as Aragorn sat down beside him.

The Ranger grimaced, when a bottle of Sina appeared from beneath the low table in front of them, prompting a smile from the young elf.

"Too much for you, Aragorn?" He teased.

Immediately, Aragorn snatched the bottle from his grasp and Legolas could not help but laugh at the predictable nature of his dark, brooding companion. He watched in silence, as his friend bravely drank.

There was no denying that he was drawn to Aragorn. He wanted very much to be close to the man yet he was hesitant to continue this strange relationship. It seemed wrong to do so and perilous. He feared it would lead them both into Shadow.

Regardless, he would still seduce Aragorn tonight.

He was not sure why, but he would do it.

******************

"Here, take this back before I kill myself with it." Aragorn pleaded. The elf laughed sweetly, taking the bottle from the Ranger's hand.

"What an interesting notion." Legolas observed and drank fully a third of the liquid. Aragorn watched this, bewildered.

"One which you should consider." The Ranger retorted. "You drink far more than can be healthy." Legolas lowered the bottle and threw the man a dangerous look.

"So say you, Estel, who just last night lay passed out in this very spot."

Aragorn merely smiled. He had not forgotten.

Out of nowhere, a strange sound, like that of a trumpet heard from a distance poured into the room. It rang steadily, holding a single, powerful note, for several moments until another, this one significantly closer, joined it. Soon, a third trumpet sounded, its voice raised harmoniously alongside the others.

Aragorn looked inquisitively at his companion.

"You may want to cover your ears." The elf warned.

Aragorn was about to reply that it really was not very loud but the words were lost when a fourth instrument sang, this one so powerful it seemed to be coming from just outside the room.

The peal of the horns blended seamlessly into a chord that bounced around painfully inside Aragorn's ears, drilling a path straight into his brain. The room shook and shuddered violently and Aragorn actually began to fear that the chamber might cave in around them. He clapped his hands to either side of his head, in an effort to block the overwhelming noise.

Eventually, one by one, the horns were silenced, their echoes resonating through the underground complex like the lingering aftershocks of an earthquake. When the sound finally stopped altogether, it left behind a peculiar sense of emptiness, as suddenly the dark room seemed deathly quiet.

"Was that what I think it was?" Aragorn asked, in an effort to fill the air.

"They are calling the Hunters home." Legolas confirmed.

Suddenly, the elf stood and strode soundlessly across the room to speak to the guard outside the door. He promptly returned, his pale green robe flowing gracefully about him.

"I should speak with Kehlios before I get too drunk." Legolas answered the Ranger's curious expression. "And before he becomes too busy."

"Oh." Aragorn nodded. For some reason this pending interruption frustrated him. He did not want to share the prince's attention with another. He knew, of course, that he was being ridiculous, but he still could not repel the jealousy that moved in around his heart.

Both man and elf were silent for a long time then, and in the quiet of the chamber, deep beneath the mountain Aragorn thought he heard the soothing sound of heavy rain, infinitely distant, drifting into the cool air.

Legolas sat quietly beside him, fidgeting with the bottle in his hands and appeared, several times, to be about to say something but at the last moment, held his tongue.

This of course drove Aragorn wild with curiosity but he resisted the temptation to ask what the elf had meant to say. Somehow, the young prince seemed more beautiful, in contemplative silence. Dark eyes and lips wet with Sina reflected what little light there was in the room and inevitably, Aragorn was transfixed by it.

In truth, the Ranger had to look hard to see his companion clearly. What little light filtered through the tunnels from above was all but trapped in the carvings that covered the prince's walls and only a dim, gray luster escaped from beneath the thick wooden vines. The walls glowed eerily, and the shadows were deep and impenetrable.

"Must it be so dark in here?" The Ranger asked. "I can barely see you."

It seemed a long time before the elf answered.

"Does that bother you?" He quietly asked.

"Yes." The Ranger admitted.

"Why?"

Aragorn was dumbstruck. He actually began to stutter, as he wrestled with the question. What, exactly did the elf want him to say? Only one answer came immediately to mind.

"I want to see you." Aragorn cringed, silently berating himself. He had sounded like a school-boy, in a changing room. Mortified, he waited for Legolas to laugh but laugh the elf did not.* At least, not to Aragorn's knowledge; his foolishness was met only with long silence. After what seemed like minutes of discomfort, the elf finally spoke.

"I was glad that you came."

"What?" Aragorn asked, startled by the strange announcement. His mind raced to interpret what the elf had said. He considered the possibilities, and began to blush, fiercely.

"This morning." Legolas explained, quietly. "I was glad that you came."

Suddenly, the door of the room rattled and opened, and the ever-present guard stepped inside. Aragorn breathed a heavy sigh of relief, which he was sure Legolas must have heard.

"**Forgive the interruption, my Prince.**" The guard apologized. "**Kehlios is here.**"

Legolas smiled. In the deceptive light, it reminded Aragorn of the way a cat might smile at an oblivious rodent, patiently awaiting the perfect time to strike.

"Of course." The prince said, placidly. "Hannon le."

The guard bowed, respectfully and held the door open for the Master of the Hunt.

The first to enter, however, was not Kehlios but a large, gray wolf that slinked past the two elves and trotted directly across the floor to sit by the prince's feet. Aragorn watched this, with some trepidation.

He heard Kehlios approach the back of the chamber, which was in itself a little odd, given that elves were usually unnervingly quiet. He did not, however look up to greet the Hunter, engaged as he was, in an epic struggle to maintain his composure, in the company of the very large wolf.

"Friend of yours?" He asked, as casually as he could manage.

"Yes." Legolas smiled, idly scratching the top of the wolf's head, as he spoke. "He is called Sadron."*

The introduction did little to ease Aragorn's anxiety. He had never felt comfortable around wolves, having most often seen them as pairs of glowing eyes that peered at him from the trees, in the dead of night. Though he did not exactly fear them, he did have a healthy respect for any animal that might consider him prey and he found himself watching the wolf nervously, unable to look away. Sadron returned the Ranger's stare, bright, yellow eyes gazing, serenely back at him.

"**It has been pining for you, terribly.**" Kehlios noted, as he stopped in front of the lounge.

"Of course he has." The prince agreed, continuing to pet the animal. "You keep him locked up, with all the others."

"It is but a wolf, my Prince." The Hunter said, pointedly.

Legolas threw the older elf a dangerous glare but did not answer.

"Does it bite?" Aragorn asked, not looking away from the large, silver mass that lay at his companion’s feet.

"He." Legolas pointed out.

"Does he bite?"

"Of course not." Legolas berated him. "Do not be ridiculous, Aragorn."

Kehlios chuckled, discreetly.

"Not people, at any rate." He corrected his prince.

"Well, not lately." Legolas added, almost as an afterthought.

Kehlios laughed again and Aragorn could not shake the impression that the two were sharing some sort of private joke.

"Has he bitten people before?" He asked, after some hesitation.

Sensing his friend's discomfort, Legolas reined in his humor and smiled, gently.

"Fear not, Estel. Sadron is one of the Thandraugin."* The prince explained. "They hunt with us."

"Oh." Realizing that Sadron was but one of many wolves kept by the elves of Mirkwood, Aragorn's wariness eased, slightly.

"**Would it kill you to light a candle, your Highness?**" Kehlios suddenly asked. "It is black as Sauron's heart, in here."

"**I like it this way.**" The prince replied.

Kehlios grunted, in a somewhat disapproving fashion.

"Shall we talk about tomorrow?" Legolas smoothly deflected the older elf's attention.

Aragorn listened, as the two spoke of the impending Hunt. They discussed such necessary details as the rounding up of horses, the outfitting of the Hunters and the manner in which they would approach the battles ahead of them. Perhaps inevitably, as the conversation wore on, Aragorn began to lose interest. His eyes struggled to keep focus in the twilight and so the Ranger found himself staring into Sadron's glowing eyes, drifting slowly into reverie, to the sound of elvish voices.

***************

At dawn, through a strange and somehow foreign world he wandered.

He knew neither where he was going, nor where he was. It occurred to him that this must be the meaning of the words 'utterly and irrevocably lost'. He walked by a river, whose clear waters flowed swiftly over a bed of rock and pebble. On the shore stood great, ancient trees that towered above him, silent and unmoving like sentries at their posts, standing guard over the water. The air was full of the smells of battle, smoke and dirt and cut flesh, yet there was no sound and no other evidence of bloodshed.

Nothing moved, and the forest was eerily quiet, in the soft morning light.

Aragorn could not say how for how long he walked. His surroundings never changed, and he did not grow weary. Time and distance became meaningless.

Out of nowhere, the distant sound of galloping hooves reached his ears.
Aragorn stopped and looked around for the source of the noise. It was impossible to see more than a few meters into the thick forest. He stood, watching and listening, as the sound grew steadily louder and then, out of nowhere, a dark, bloodied war-horse exploded from the trees, it's heaving sides and bit covered with foam, ears pinned back tightly against its head. The horse almost knocked Aragorn from his feet as it passed, in full flight and plunged recklessly into the river, leaving a maelstrom of churning water in its wake. The horse swam clear across the fast moving water and disappeared into the trees on the far bank.

Aragorn did not notice this; something had caught his eye, where the horse had entered the river.

There was a swirl of rich green, in the water.

He moved closer, curiosity overpowering the warning bell that sounded in his head.

Step by step, he approached the river and more and more of what floated there came into view. Amongst the mass of dark and light green that drifted about like thick river weed, long strands of pale silk waved gently with the current, glowing, silver and gold, in the morning sun.

Aragorn's heart began to pound.

He stepped closer again and found himself suddenly waist deep, in the water.

He reached out his hand and touched -

**********************

"Estel?"

A sweet voice called to him from the blackness and a warm hand gently squeezed his shoulder.

"Estel, wake up."

The Ranger opened his eyes and found himself face to face with a sweetly smiling elvish prince. It took him a moment to remember where he was and he looked around curiously.

"Kehlios has gone." Legolas explained. "I am sorry if you were terribly bored."

Realizing that he had fallen asleep in front of the prince and his captain was an unpleasant experience for Aragorn. He looked sheepishly at his host, apology in his eyes.

"Forgive me." He mumbled, straightening himself as best he could. "I must have been tired."

Legolas' smile spilled into his eyes.

"Of course you were." The prince graciously agreed. "Drink?"

Aragorn eyed the bottle that was offered warily.

"Perhaps I had better not." He refused. "I seem to be suffering for it."

Legolas shrugged, taking a drink himself.

"I understand." The prince assured him. "You do not wish to be hung-over for the Hunt, tomorrow."

Aragorn looked inquisitively at his companion.

"The Hunt?" He asked.

"Yes." Legolas confirmed. "You are going to join us, are you not?"

"I was not sure I was invited." The Ranger admitted.

Once again, Legolas smiled. It was a sight to which Aragorn was slowly becoming accustomed.

"Nonsense." The elf said, dismissing his doubts. "You are always invited, Estel."

Aragorn's heart glowed.

"Now," Legolas said matter of factly. "Are you going to kiss me, or not?"

-End part I-

* Hehe makes me think of Yoda. "Very pretty, elves are. Want one, you will but easy to catch, they are not." *g*
*Sadron - loyal
*Thandraugi (n) - shield wolves. I think just the 'i' at the end makes a plural. I put the 'n' there coz it makes the word sound better. Writer's prerogative.
BTW - the name translations came from arwen-undomiel.com, now I'll never be stuck for a name again! *g*


Part II

Aragorn's heart began to thump violently in his chest.

"What?"

Either oblivious to, or perhaps enjoying the Ranger's discomfort, Legolas fought to control laughter.

"Never mind." He told the man, coyly and drank from the Sina bottle.

Aragorn frowned. Never mind? The elf was obviously laughing at him and the Ranger found it more than a little humiliating. His discomfort swiftly turned to anger.

"Why would you say such a thing?" He demanded of the elf. "For amusement?"

The prince's smile slowly faded, though he appeared un-phased, in the face of Aragorn's wrath. He seemed to observe the man's anger, as a man observes the behavior of wild animals that squabble over scraps of food. Finally, the beautiful smile returned and this time it was not mocking, but tinged with sadness.

"No." Legolas denied.

Aragorn struggled to comprehend.

"You were laughing..." He began,

"It was the look on your face, Estel." Legolas explained, the elf's smile returning despite his best efforts to control it. "Your mouth was wide open." He appended. "As though I had asked you to cut off a limb."

Aragorn was torn between emotions, an uncomfortable position in which he was finding himself more and more often. He felt embarrassed and awkward, after the misunderstanding that had occurred between them, and now, suddenly, it dawned on him that Legolas had been serious in his request. Though he desperately wanted to accede to the elf's wish, he hesitated to do so, the possibility of another uncomfortable situation more than he could bare.

"I do not understand you, Legolas." He finally admitted. "I have tried, since first we met. Nothing you do makes sense to me."

The moment the words had left his mouth Aragorn regretted what he had said. The smile that graced the elf's features faltered, and Legolas sighed as he looked away, as though to hide his sorrow. For a long time the elf did not speak, and Aragorn died a little, to know that he had again brought his friend to the edge of despair.

"Is it necessary," the prince asked, "for you to understand?"

Aragorn thought about this for a moment. He had to admit that he found the elf's mysterious nature to be quite endearing. And constant wondering what was happening inside his friend's head did ensure that he was never bored.

"I only want to know you."

Legolas shifted closer to Aragorn and seemed to gather his thoughts before he spoke.

Aragorn waited.

"I have never felt this way before." Legolas said, whispered words tumbling from his lips like fearful confession. "When I am with you..." The elf hesitated, struggling to find the words to express himself. Finally, he seemed to abandon his approach and begin again. "It is not normal for me, to desire. It is not... appropriate." He said. "Yet I long for you, Estel. I want you so badly, it hurts. To be closer to you."

"I dream of you, when I sleep." He quietly admitted. "I dream of us. And when I wake you are my only thought, my only desire." The young elf stopped then, choking on the words, unable to continue. He sat, quietly, waiting for the Ranger's reaction.

If someone had asked Aragorn then, what his name was, he probably would not have known. Thought had abandoned him. He could not have said how long he sat there, staring blankly into the dark eyes of his vulnerable friend. He only knew that once again, Legolas had ensnared him, captured his heart with that searing gaze.

It was a temptation he was powerless to resist.

Aragorn leaned forward and touched the prince's lips gently with his own. The softness of the flesh was almost familiar to him now and he lingered, basking in the perfection of it. To his astonishment, Legolas neither encouraged, nor hindered the Ranger's advance, but received the kiss passively. Aragorn lingered, for a moment longer, waiting for the elf to react. Finally, he drew back a little, to better see his friend's eyes. Legolas gazed silently back at him, through unshed tears and with such unfettered adoration that Aragorn almost wept at sight of it. Only once before had he seen such unbridled affection; in the eyes of Arwen, his love, now so far away.

Sliding his arms around the elf's waist, Aragorn pulled Legolas to him and held him tightly for a moment, wondering yet again at how completely enthralled he was to this dark prince. Legolas melted willingly into the man's embrace, burying his face against the Ranger's warm neck.

"Le aníron,* Estel. Understand that." The words were a plea, at once desperate and despairing. Aragorn's heart ached with empathy and he kissed the young prince again, this time without restraint. He pushed his tongue deep into the elf's mouth and a soft moan escaped him, as he tasted the familiar sweetness of Legolas.

Now the elf responded, welcoming Aragorn's intrusion, sucking hungrily on the man's tongue, even as his elegant hands worked at the knots that held his lover's shirt closed. Aragorn jumped, when a hand brushed against his belly. Legolas pushed away from him and pushed the shirt off his shoulders, admiring the firm, tanned flesh beneath. Aragorn watched the dark eyes roam over his body, accompanied by the soft caress of warm hands. What was it about this elf that enchanted him so? He did not know and for now, he did not care. He could think of nothing but getting closer to Legolas.

"Legolas." He whispered. Legolas seemed not to notice. Reaching up, Aragorn touched the elf's face with his fingers.

"Legolas." He repeated. The prince lifted his eyes and dark blue met steel-gray. Aragorn's heart and hands trembled, beneath the prince's steady gaze. In the quiet and the dark of the chamber, so far from Gondor and from Rivendell, from Mordor and the crumbling world above, they were utterly alone, together.

"Take me to your bed."

Something changed in Legolas then. It was not in the elf's appearance or his manner, it was in his eyes. Some sweet contentment perhaps, that had not been there before. Whatever it was made Aragorn's heart flutter.

A soft, warm hand slipped into the Ranger's own and Legolas stood, and led him silently across the fur-covered floor. Before the bed the elf stopped and turned, bestowing a gentle, reassuring smile upon his lover. As Aragorn struggled to control his racing heart, it occurred to him that Legolas seemed very relaxed, given the circumstances.

Letting go of Aragorn's hand, the elf stepped forward, closing the space between them and touched his lips delicately to the man's own, the tips of his fingers tracing soft lines along the man's jaw. The kiss was simple and sweet, and it ended much too quickly for Aragorn's liking. He tried to catch the elf's mouth again but Legolas gently and silently refused him, putting his fingers against the man's lips.

Confused, Aragorn waited.

Slowly, with immeasurable grace, Legolas lowered himself to his knees before the Ranger.

Aragorn's heart leapt into his throat as memory of the night before flooded into his mind. He remembered the elf's hands between his thighs, the wet, hot mouth wrapped around him, and his knees began to tremble.

Legolas gazed up at him, a knowing smile touching his fine features before he reached down and began untying the Ranger's boots. Looking down at the elf, whose face he could no longer see, Aragorn could not help thinking that it was somehow wrong, for this young prince to be on his knees before him, tending him in such a way . It seemed a servants task. He wondered, as he lifted his right foot, how many times Thranduil had seen his son from this angle. He lifted his left foot, and wondered if Thranduil enjoyed the sight as much as he did.

When Aragorn finally stood barefooted, before him, Legolas raised himself up on his knees, his hands sliding up the man's legs, to the lace of his pants. As though dreaming Aragorn watched, as the young prince pulled the knot loose, hooked his fingers under the waistband, and slowly pulled the pants down. Aragorn's erection, freed from its confinement, leapt upright and he groaned with the release.

Eager to please, Legolas wrapped his hand around the thick shaft, and put his lips to the already weeping head. Aragorn jumped at the sudden contact and his hand reflexively went down to hold the elf's head steady, as he pushed himself deep into his lover's mouth. Legolas accepted the man's aggression without complaint, taking Aragorn to the hilt in his mouth, sucking hungrily on the thick member that pushed against the back of his throat, threatening to choke him.

It was all Aragorn could do to remain standing, as the elf worked on him, letting a long-fingered hand drift between the Ranger's legs to tickle and tug gently at his balls, while keeping a slow luxurious rhythm with his mouth, sliding his tongue along the shaft of the man's cock as though it tasted of honey.

The Ranger's eyes fluttered closed, as the pleasure began to overcome him.

"Wait, Legolas. Stop." He begged, pulling the elf's head up by the hold he had on his silken hair. Legolas rose to his feet, to be met with fierce passion, as Aragorn kissed him, deeply. At taste of himself the Ranger moaned into the elf's mouth, the vibration stirring the latent fire that smoldered in his belly.

He could wait no longer for release.

Taking hold of Legolas by his upper-arms, Aragorn turned and pushed the smaller male down onto the bed, quickly following, to cover the elf's body with his own. He kissed Legolas again, trying to undo the clasps at the front of the elf's robe. Legolas giggled through their kiss at the Ranger's attempts to undress him, finally lending a helping hand. Aragorn impatiently pushed the robe open as he went, his raging erection pulsing anew, as flawless, pale flesh was slowly exposed.

He roamed greedily over every visible inch of the elf's skin, relishing in the feel of the soft flesh beneath his calloused hands. He ground himself hard against the prince's thighs, his body aching for contact.

He reached down between them with one hand and tried, through his fervor, to untie the elf's pants. After a few moments struggling with the seemingly simple task, Aragorn broke the kiss and sat up on his knees, to better see. He looked down at the young elf that lay beneath him, waiting. Legolas gazed back at him through half-lidded eyes, dark with lust. As the Ranger watched, the tip of a wet, pink tongue flicked out and licked the elf's lips. Aragorn's already straining member throbbed painfully as he finally realized - Legolas would be his tonight.

He pulled at the lace, and the knot came undone. Wasting no time on sentiment, Aragorn tugged at the elf's pants, leaning back to pull them down over the prince's bare feet so that his elf lay naked before him. Struck with a sudden urge to explore, he took his time climbing back up along the elf's body, letting his hands wander freely over the pale flesh, as he went. He followed his caresses with kisses, placed lovingly on the elf's ivory thighs, the firm flesh of his stomach. He wrapped his hand around Legolas' hard member, eliciting a gentle sigh, as he slowly stroked the elf's so far neglected sex.

Encouraged by his lover's response, Aragorn lay down again over the elf's svelte form, catching Legolas' mouth in a long, fevered kiss. Legolas wrapped his arms around the man, striving for more contact, lifting his hips to meet the Ranger's attentions, moaning into their kiss, as Aragorn fanned his desires.

Thus they wrestled for a time, locked in their embrace, rubbing against each other, without restraint. Finally, for want of air, Legolas broke the kiss, turning his head to side, drawing deep, ragged breaths, as pleasure swelled inside him.

"Estel." The prince uttered, through his euphoria. "Please, take me. I cannot bear to wait."

Aragorn's heart pounded, the throbbing in his groin intensifying almost to pain, with the imminence of consummation. He vaguely considered rolling the prince onto his stomach to make the act easier, but almost instantly the thought occurred to him, he dismissed it. He wanted to see his lover. He reached behind him and lifted the elf's legs. The young warrior was quite flexible, and it took little effort to push the elf's knees up to his chest, exposing the secret entrance to Legolas' body.

On impulse, he put two fingertips to the prince's lips, eager to see Legolas wanton, as he had been in Dol Guldur. He was not disappointed. The elf licked and kissed, making sweet little sounds of contentment, as he sucked the Ranger's fingers, his pink tongue sliding in and out of his hot mouth, wetting the digits till they dripped. Aragorn watched, enthralled, as Legolas made a meal of his fingers.

Finally, the need to enter his lover's body became unbearable, and he withdrew his fingers from the elf's mouth, swiftly replacing them with his tongue, as he leaned down and kissed Legolas again. He put his fingers to the elf's hole, not yet penetrating, but stroking and pressing against the puckered opening, coaxing the tight entrance to relax. His lover moaned and whined under his ministrations, the elf's face flushed with passion.

Slowly, he pushed the tip of one finger inside, soon joining it with the second. Legolas bucked and writhed beneath him, as he began to tease and stretch the elf's passage, searching with his fingers for his lover's hidden spot. He pushed as deep as he could into the hot tunnel, wriggling his fingers inside the elf's body, listening, enthralled, as Legolas whimpered his pleasure. He touched his lover's sweet spot and was rewarded when the elf cried out, his hips thrusting violently, even as the Ranger pulled his fingers from the passage, and replaced it with his eager member, pressing the weeping head hard against the elf's moistened portal. Legolas quivered with anticipation, trying to spread his thighs further, to allow the man unfettered access.

Aragorn struggled to control himself, as he slowly pushed himself into his elf's body, the tight rim clenching around his hard desire. With painstaking care he persisted, until finally Legolas' hold loosened and he groaned with satisfaction, as he sheathed himself fully in the elf's heat. With great control he paused, to let his lover acclimatize to the feeling of being filled. But the elf would not wait, his fingers clawed at the Ranger's back, digging into his shoulders, and Legolas pleaded for more.

"Move, Estel." He begged. "Please."

Blindly, Aragorn obeyed. He tried to go slowly at first, withdrawing almost completely from his lover's body, to push steadily back inside, but the slow pace seemed to frustrate the young elf, and Aragorn found himself straining to maintain it.

After three or four long, sensual strokes the Ranger's patience snapped and he withdrew again, this time thrusting hard and fast into the tight passage. Legolas cried out as if injured, the sound stirring the man's baser passions, driving Aragorn to ride his lover with vicious abandon. His pace quickened, as he slammed into the elf's heat again and again. The force of his thrusts began pushing the young elf away from him, until finally Legolas had to put his hand against the wall above his head, to counter the Ranger's assault.

It wasn't enough.

Frustrated by the unbearable need to climax Aragorn sat back on his knees, putting some distance between him and his lover, allowing himself more space to maneuver. He shifted his angle, holding the elf's legs for leverage and thrust into the hot passage. The impact knocked the breath from his elf's lungs and as Legolas moaned and writhed on his member, Aragorn realized he had found his lover's sweet spot. Over and over he pounded into the elf's body, delighting in every cry and moan that issued from Legolas' mouth, watching with relish as his lover's head tossed from side to side, the dark eyes disappearing behind long lashes, as Aragorn stroked his core with every thrust.

"Ah, yes." The elf panted, barely capable of speech. "More, Estel."

Aragorn complied, as best he could, but the sound of his name on the elf's tongue left him weak at the knees. With each thrust he felt the end draw closer. He fought to control himself, to ease back, to do something that would slow his ascent. But it was hopeless. The Ranger's vision swam dangerously, and beneath him, he sensed his lover was also nearing his climax, the elf's breath came in ragged gasps, his face flushed and slack with pleasure.

Before Aragorn's eyes, Legolas slid one hand down the front of his body, wrapping his fingers around his own straining lust, stroking himself with reckless inhibition, seemingly lost in his sexual ecstasy. It was more than Aragorn could bear.

With a final, exhaustive effort he spent his seed inside the elf's body, his back arching under the force of his orgasm. His lover swiftly followed, the hot liquid splattering across his stomach, as Legolas succumbed to rapture.

Utterly weakened by his efforts, Aragorn flopped down onto the mattress beside his lover. He looked across at Legolas, who gazed up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, a contented expression on his fine face. In that sweet, fleeting moment of clarity that follows sexual release, Aragorn had an epiphany.

"I think I may be falling in love with you, Legolas." He whispered his thought.

The elf smiled, turning his head to meet the Ranger's adoring eyes.

"Say that again." He asked, eyes shining in the darkness.

"Le melon.*" Aragorn repeated, without hesitation.

Legolas sighed, rolling over to rest his head lightly on Aragorn's shoulder, draping his arm across the man's chest. It was a simple act, yet one which made Aragorn profoundly happy.

Spent and contented, the Hope of the World closed his eyes; sleep called to him softly, from the shadows and he had no will to fight it.

Tomorrow was another day, and with it came the promise of the Hunt.

*Le aníron. - I need you. (I've seen 'anír' translated as 'need', 'desire' and 'wish'. I picked one.)
*I told u I would. *g*
*Le melon - I love you.