The Price of Pride

Elvish translations

Melethron – lover (male)
Ae syntrea chen – please

Chapter 36

Our days fell into a routine as we continued south, looking for the town Elladan sought, though after the first few days, Elrohir had healed enough that we did not really need to find the town. Still, we continued to look for it, thinking we would enjoy a few nights in an inn, instead of in the wild. We traveled most of the day, eating lembas for lunch, and hunting in the afternoon for dinner. The only variation came if we saw Orc sign. Then we hunted Orc instead of dinner. We would make camp in time to cook if our hunting had been successful, and then we would share the watch. Aragorn and I almost always took the first watches, knowing the twins preferred to sleep first and watch later. Sometimes we watched together, which usually resulted in much kissing and very little watching. If we were sharing the watch, I always spoke to the trees, listening to their conversations, making sure they were not worried about Orcs. If they were not, the watch was more for form than for necessity and Aragorn and I indulged our senses as fully as we dared. My bracers were usually the first thing to go. Aragorn had not forgotten the sensitivity he had discovered during our night on the point, and he would often tease my wrists in an attempt to make me cry out. I would resist for a while, but would eventually give him the little sounds of pleasure that he wanted. Then, I would kiss him senss, ss, and the play would continue. We were always aware of the twins, asleep on the other side of the fire, a constraining presence whether they meant to be or not. And so while my feelings for Aragorn continued to deepen and flourish, we contented ourselves with the same degree of physical expression, though the intensity heightened as well. It made the days spent walking, when we shared only the lightest of kisses and touches pure agony, and the nights spent in each other’s arms even worse. Yet I would not have traded that agony for anything, except, after almost two weeks, release.

As we moved south, the weather warmed up, making it unnecessary to share bedrolls against the cold, but unlike the twins, Aragorn and I continued to sleep under the same blankets. We just started shedding layers before sleeping. Where at first we had slept fully clothed, now we often removed our heavy outer tunics, sleeping only in our fine cotton undertunics and leggings. Already, I would wake most days to find Aragorn’s hand clenching the fabric of my tunic. When I started taking off the tunic at night, I awoke to find his hand under my shirt, resting against my abdomen. That was almost too much for my self-control. In fact, had it not been for the twins, on watch and on the other side of camp, I probably would have given in right then.

A few days later, Aragorn left our watch early, claiming he was tired. It was certainly a possibility since we were both sitting two watches to give us some time alone, rather than each sitting one. I kissed him lightly and promised to join him as soon as the second watch was over. “I will be waiting,” he promised in the sultry voice he used when we were alone. That voice invariably caused all the blood to leave my head and head straight for my groin. Especially when it was making promises. If I woke Elladan a little early for his watch that night, who could blame me? Was it my fault my love was so very, very tempting?

I slid between the bedrolls and wrapped my arms around Aragorn, expecting to feel the smooth cotton of his undertunic, thinking maybe I would sleep with my hands on his skin instead of the other way around. I found only skin, with no cotton in the way. He woke up enough to murmur, “It was too hot to leave my shirt on.”

Too hot indeed. I thought about the twins nearby. I thought about all my good intentions. Then I thought about that delicious expanse of skin I had admired every time we bathed. And how my fingers had been itching to touch him since the first time I saw him. My fingers won out over my conscience.

“Do not make a sound,” I whispered. “We would not want your brothers coming to investigate.”
He nodded and I trailed the back of my hand across his chest. The skin was smooth underneath the dusting of hair. My fingers curled into that hair, exploring the differences in our bodies. Despite my warning to be quiet, he purred, deep in his throat at my touch. What a wonderful sound! I leaned over and kissed him. “Not a sound,” I whispered again, though I relished the thought that I could wring such sounds of pleasure from him. On the other hand, if the twins interrupted us, they might never leave us alone again. Before my fingers found his nipple, I reached up and covered his mouth with my other hand, a reminder of the need for silence. He turned his head and flicked his tongue against my wrist; it was my turn to stifle a moan. I tweaked a nipple playfully, reminding him who was in charge. He whimpered. Whimpered! It was enough to make me tremble with desire. He was so incredibly sensitive to my touch; it was almost enough to undo me. Ever so gently, I bent my head, first to his neck, paying particular attention to the patch of skin behind his ear, then down to his collarbone, tracing the line where sun-darkened skin gave way to a lighter shade. His skin was salty from his sweat since we had not camped near a stream that night, but I did not mind. He shivered against me as my lips moved lower, teasing across his chest, nearing but never quite reaching his flat nipples.

“Ae syntrea chen,” he whispered finally. I gave him what he wanted, what we both wanted. His body bucked as I licked and nipped at his sensitive flesh, but he managed to muffle the cry that I could hear starting in his throat. My hand drifted lower, across the flat plane of his stomach. The hair that so fascinated me narrowed, there, to a thin band down the middle, leaving smooth skin to either side. I explored as long as I dared. When Aragorn began having trouble keeping quiet, I knew we had to stop. I pulled away, turning him so his back was to my chest. I continued to stroke my fingers gently across his skin, soothing now, instead of arousing. Aragorn protested.

“As soon as we find this town Elladan is taking us to,” I whispered, “I will give you what we both want. Be patient a little longer, melethron.” We were not really lovers, not yet, but we would be. I was sure of it. Then, after I had a chance to talk to Arwen, I would lay out my feelings and ask Aragorn to spend the rest of his life with me. I knew in my heart that he would not deny me. Innocent as he was, he could not respond to me with the abandon that he did if he did not love me. I was sure of it.