The Gift of Companions

Title: The Gift of Companions
Author: Psycho Ferret
Pairing: AragornxLegolas and eventual ElrondxLegolas
Chapter: 1/?
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: SLASH/YAOI! OOC characters, violence, non-descriptive non-con, graphic violence and adult themes and a systematic change of point of views from Legolas to Aragorn and back again. Hah! "There and Back again!" Get it? I didn’t even mean for that to happen. Then eventual ElrondxLegolas! Whoo, that elf prince gets around!!
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Middle-Earth, Legolas, Gimli, Arwen, Aragorn, the Uruk-hai, or any other characters included within this story. Do not bother suing me. I have nothing. That’s right, nothing. Nothing worth having, anyway… a slow computer and a bunch of art supplies. Joy.
Author’s Notes: ~*~*~*~*~ means change of point of view
~*~*~*~*~

Another day, another hour of peril. As I stood from my crouched position on a cliff overlooking the small lagoon below, I turned to survey my two faithful companions.

Gimli lay on his side, near the still slightly glowing embers of the fire we lit the night before. He slept soundly, snoring softly, one burly hand grasping the hilt of his mighty ax that still had a smear of blood from the Uruk-hai we had slew earlier.

Aragorn. Ah, yes, Aragorn. He sat beside the dwarf, fingering the silver pendant about his neck. It was the pendant given to him by Arwen.

Arwen… at the thought of her, I felt a sudden anger well up within me. Startled by the foreign emotion, I inadvertently caught my breath, making a strangled sound in my throat.

He looked up. For a second I saw worry, but it disappeared a second after when he realized it was only me.

He smiled and stood, moving silently past the slumbering dwarf to stop before me.

"Something wrong, Legolas?" His deep baritone brought me from a trance I hadn’t known I’d been in as I watched the man approach me.

"Mmm? No, naught but the perils of the last few days beginning to catch up with me." I laughed softly to cover up my sudden uneasiness around him.

"You should get some rest, my friend. You’ll be no use to us if you’re half asleep."

"I am fine. The silence and coolness of the night has refreshed my senses. I will be no burden to both of you. It is that stubborn dwarf we must be worried about." I chuckled softly as I looked back at the dwarf.

I was rewarded with a smile, I remember. The ranger sat down, legs dangling off the cliff. I noticed as I sat down beside him—one leg curled beneath me, the other dangling as well—that his greenish eyes glittered in the rising sunlight.

There was a comfortable silence that passed between us, each watching the calm waters below us.

"I fear what I will face in Gondor," he said, smi smile gone from his lips. "Will I be able to deal with it on my own? I once shunned it, my duties, but-"

"You won’t be alone, Aragorn. And you’ll make a fine king when the time comes. Do not underestimate yourself."

He glanced at me, but I do not meet his gaze. I stared down at the lagoon again.

"Legolas…" The tone of his voice changed, softening.

Slowly I turned my head to face him, meeting his eyes and locking gazes. I could feel his breath, his face was so close to mine. I felt a flutter in my chest.

He leaned closer, tilting his head slightly and parting his lips.

My eyes fluttered closed as I, too, leaned forward.

I could feel his breath quiver against my lips. My heart beat so fast.

With surprise, Aragorn and I pulled back sharply, my eyes flying open at the great yawn coming from the camp.

Ah, yes. Gimli.

I turned away from the human as best I could, trying to hide the slight flush of my cheeks, the hitching of my breath. I was so close to him.

He stood and before he went back to Gimli’s side, the ranger hesitated, resting a hand on my shoulder.

Then he left me sitting there on the cliff, forcing down the short of breath and flush upon my pale cheeks.
~*~*~*~*~

As I pulled away from the elf, I berated myself for my foolishness. What was I doing? He had finally learned to at least confide in me, and now, I have ruined it.

I am a fool.

We walked the next morning, heading up the path the Uruk-hai have left behind, trailing them in hopes of saving Merry and Pippin. By the Gods, I hoped we reached them soon. I would have hated for anything to have happened to them.

I could not keep my eyes from the lithe figure ahead, however. The almost hypnotizing way his hips moved ever-so-slightly as he walked, feline in grace. His silent steps and the sharp cerulean eyes of an eagle only added to his alien appearance. Elves were always so strange to me, and yet, so beautiful.

Legolas is and was no exception. He seemed to be the essence of the Elven beauty I found so intriguing.

It was then that I realized my thoughts had strayed from myovedoved to my companion. My Arwen, beautiful Arwen. My friend, my love.

I conjured up thoughts of her, and much to my startlement, I felt none of the once present warming joy.

Once again, I found my eyes straying to the pretty figure at the front of our line, easy to see over our short, stout dwarven friend.
~*~*~*~*~

Once more we had camped by a body of water, small, though it was. From the days travels, I felt quite dirty, covered in mud and grime.

I was still typically elven in that aspect. I could not stand being, and much less sleeping, grubby, if I could help it. As we built up the fire and settle down for rest, I excused myself from the others and treaded down to the lake, intent on bathing the filth from my body.

Upon reaching the water’s edge, I slipped out of my clothing, laying my weapons close by in case of some sudden emergency, releasing my hair from the barrette that binds it, and then I dove in.

It felt good to wash the troubles of the day from my body, and the touch of the water upon my skin calmed me. My mind had been at an unrest since the night before, and the clear substance washed away both my worries and the stains from the day’s travels.
~*~*~*~*~

As Legolas announced that he was going off to bathe, I felt a shudder run through me, and my mind conjured images of him swimming in the water, nude. Again, I shuddered.

I denied the truth when Gimli asked iythiything was wrong, and sat down by the fire we had just recently. I stared into its flames, banishing the images of my friend and replacing them with images of Arwen. Unconsciously I reached up and touched the pendant about my neck.

I was startled by the gruff voice of the dwarf grumbling about Legolas being gone so long. I blinked. Already the sun had fallen, when not moments before it had been in the air. I sighed softly, realizing I had dazed out.

I too found worry in my heart at the fact that the elf had not returned. I voiced this.

"Well, he might still be at the lake. Go check. I’ll look around here." That was his answer. He just had to suggest that I go to the lake, didn’t he?

I nodded, however, and stood, padding off to the waterside.

What I found at the lake was the most amazing thing I had ever set eyes upon.

The elf was still in the water. He broke the surface as I got there, the clear water, slipping over his smooth ivory skin like a blanket of ice. His long, golden locks of hair clung to his face and chest, small droplets still residing on the strands. I could see his eyes glitter in the moonlight, full rosy lips parted in a smile, pinkish nipples hard from the night’s chill.

It was then that I noticed his clothing and weapons beside me. All his clothing.

Gods, I thought, he is nude. I felt my cheeks flush at that notion and quickly banished the thought from my mind.

He had apparently noticed my presence, however.

"Oh, Aragorn," he said, his smile widening slightly. He didn’t move from his place in the water, seemingly undisturbed by him being clothingless.

Ah, he was so beautiful.
~*~*~*~*~

As I noticed Aragorn there on the lakeside, I felt an alien sense of self-consciousness overcome me.

However, I pushed it from my mind, putting on a smile.

"Gimli and I were beginning to get worried about you. After all, it’s dark and it was day when you left."

I laughed. "So it is! I had not noticed! The passage of time does not affect the elvenkind as much, itms. ms. I was lost in the calmness of the water."

I saw him give a smile in the moonlight.

A little bit of my childish mischief settled in then. I flashed a smile and motioned to the water with my hand.

"Join me! Wash the day’s troubles from your flesh and enjoy the serenity of the night."

I saw his eyes widen a bit, but he nodded slightly a few moments later. He unhooked his swordbelt and laid it next to my own possessions. Next went his tunic and boots. He’d left his cloak back at the camp, it seemed.

He hesitated with his breeches, and I can understand why. I know I was watching him intently, so I turned and dove back under the water.

When I resurfaced, I saw him in the water, waist-high with the clear liquid dripping off his face, his hair. He looked handsome in the moonlight.

Ah, he hadn’t noticed me yet. I dove under the water yet again, feeling the mischievous side of me returning.

I rose as silently as I could behind hiunniunning my fingers up his back as I did so. I felt him shiver, but no protest came forth from his lips.

I ran my fingers through his hair and over the nape of his neck.

Gently, I pressed my palms into his shoulders and began to knead the muscles therein. It seemed to calm him some, so I continued, resting my head against his back.
~*~*~*~*~

Ah, his hands were upon me! Warmth resided where he touched me, and I shivered. I felt him pause for a moment before continuing. It was torture, the way he was touching me.

Then I felt his chest against my backside, head resting below my neck.

Despite myself, I felt an erection growing between my legs. I was shocked. Aroused by Legolas’ touch?
~*~*~*~*~

I heard him sigh as I continued loosening the muscles, and I smiled.

My hands moved lower in their ministrations, sliding down to his lower back, near the slight curve of his hips.

And then he whirled on me, snatching my wrists in his hand, and I feared I had gone too far.

That is, until he kissed me.

He pressed his lips against mine urgently, and as I began to kiss back as he pried my own tiers open with his tongue. I closed my eyes, my own tongue darting out to dance with his, reaching out to explore the extent of the ranger’s mouth and in turn, his did the same. One of his hands brushed over my chest, ghosting over one of my already sensitive nipples.

I moaned into his mouth, arching my back. I feltparkpark in my groin.

He broke off the kiss, leaving me breathless and proceeded to lace my neck with quick licks and once more teasing the rosy nubs on my chest.

Again I moaned, moving into the touch, gasping as I felt our hips grind together.

He made a soft noise against my neck and let go of my wrists.
~*~*~*~*~

When I released his hands, they slid up my chest to bury themselves in my hair.

Legolas was beautiful, I noticed, as I pulled back to look at him. His back was curved, pushing his chest further into my touch, head thrown back, eyes closed, hair falling like a blanket behind him.

This image of him like that startled me into realizing that I was betraying Arwen.

In a split-second, the hand at his back supporting him moved and the other pushed him away.

Gods… what had I done?
~*~*~*~*~

My eyes flew open as he sent me stumbling back, tripping and falling onto my rump.

I stared up at him in shock, even as he turned away, horror in his greenish eyes.

"Aragorn?" I asked softly, hesitantly. His answer shocked me more.

"Go. Just… leave me alone."

I stood silently and dutifully padded over to my belongings, dressing myself and strapping on my weapons, trying to bite back the tears that welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. I could hear him breathing heavily, if in anger, I could not tell.

I cursed myself as I got dressed. I glanced at him once more before I, too, turned away and loped off. Not yet towards the camp. No, I knew he would return there, and I was far from ready to face him. Into tre trees, I went, instead.

There I could be alone.

Once inside the forest, I slumped heavily upon a tree, pulling my knees to my chest as I slid down to sit on the ground, finally letting the tears overcome me.

It had been a long time since I cried.
~*~*~*~*~

I could hear him as he left, his breath hitching slightly.

I felt horrible. Not only had I betrayed Arwen, I had harmed my closest friend. I numbly got dressed and stared up at the stars, whispering askance for forgiveness.

Finally I returned to the camp, already having readied an apology to the elf.

I found no one there but the dwarf, and honestly, I wasn’t surprised. Gimli looked up as I entered the camp.

"You find ‘im?" I nodded.

"He was still at the lake." I didn’t dare mention why he had not returned. I heard the dwarf mutter something about the "crazy elf." Normally the comment would have brought a smile to my lips, but this time, it did not.

My companion laid down to sleep, telling me to wake him when the elf appeared. "I’ve a mind to give him a good whap or two when he gets back."

I nodded and began my watch, too worried of the elf to sleep anyway.

I onopedoped he’d be alright.
~*~*~*~*~

I don’t know how long I stayed like that, staring into the night with tears on my cheeks. I don’t know how many times I cursed myself that night. Of course he loved Arwen! He wouldn’t betray her. But even knowing this, I had played the part of the seducer.

I stood, finally wiping the tears from my eyes. Perhaps then I would return to the camp and give Aragorn my apologies.

But as I moved to leave I caught a familiar scent on the wind. It was bitter and rank, revolting. It smelled of foul breath and dried blood.

It was the stench of the Uruk-hai.

I froze, knowing I couldn’t get far enough from them. I reached to my back, beginning to draw on the the daggers from it’s sheath when I felt a slimy hand close over my own. My head was jerked back painfully by a rough hand in my hair. The snout of one of the creatures was a few inches from my skin.

If I could not save myself, then I could at least warn the others.
~*~*~*~*~

I was crouched upon a log overlooking the landscape we would face the next day, worrying over the elf’s health when the cry came.

"ARAG-" And that was all that I heard. The cry was cut short by something. I felt my heart flutter in shock and fear.

It was Legolas.

I quickly roused Gimli from his sleep, hurriedly explaining what I had heard. We both set off then in the direction the call came from.

It occurred to me then that he had called my name. Perhaps I had not ruined our friendship after all? So I hoped.

What worried me the most was how Legolas was faring.

As we ran, Gimli’s feet crunched on something not like the damp leaves we had stepped on before. As he checked what it was, I felt my heart shatter.

It was a thin, wooden-shafted arrow with a full, black and white feather on the end. The dwarf and I were silent for a moment.

"He’s alright" he said, even though nearby we found a small amount of blood. I sighed and pushed onward, clutching the arrow to me. I prayed that Legolas was alright.
~*~*~*~*~

I can’t remember clearly the events that occurred. Some I can recollect when I wish to.

What I mainly remember was the exquisite pain that constantly overwhelmed me. A searing, fiery pain that resided everywhere in my body, sending me into an unrestful unconsciousness and nearly instantly drawing me from it into a confused awakened state.

I recall the clawed hand pinning my head to the ground, the booted foot clamped on my wrist, the bloody dagger that belonged to me, imbedded in my hand and the ground beneath.

I nearly vomited several times, for the stench of the Uruk-hai, my essence and my own blood overcame me, sickened me. The sheer will of saving what pride I had kept me from doing so.

I had never felt such pain before, such horror and shame.

The deepest, holiest places within me had been desecrated, shredded until naught but mere shards were left to find. Never would I heal the mental scars from that incident.
~*~*~*~*~

Finally we reached the site where Legolas was being held, tortured.

As painful as it was to watch, wee foe forced to wait until daylight for the creatures to sleep, to rest, to let their guard down just once.

Gimli could not watch the horrors our friend went through and therefore treaded a little ways away so as not to.

I, however, could not wrench my gaze from the scene before me.

Legolas was by a fire, spread-eagled, feet and hands bound: one frail hand blo bloody, familiar dagger that punctured his palm and the bloody soil beneath; the other by a booted foot belonging to one of the abominations; left foot bound by a rope attached to a nearby tree; the last limb free. His fine clothing had been torn away and tossed to the side. Along the entire length of his body lay numerous scrapes and tears. Gashes of varying depth and width made by claws. His legs were covered with wounds of the same type, hips bruised. His bound ankle had rubbed raw and bleeding from, I assumed, struggling.

That, however, wasn’t all.

His cheeks had been split open, blood coating the once flawless, ivory skin. His bottom lip, once full, silky and rosy, had been split, bleeding, now stained crimson. It seemed a sin to mar such an angelic face, to ruin perfection.

I could barely restrain myself from lunging out there and attacking the three creatures that surrounded him at what came next.

Right before my eyes I saw them tear from him his angelic purity.

I felt tears form in my eyes as they ravished him, contorting his ravaged body and ripping a scream from his lips that made Gimli jump and my heart pause.

I saw him sobbing then, letting go of the short strand of will that survived.

I couldn’t stop the dwarf. He leapt from the greenery, roaring a battle cry, and before they could react, he had cleaved the first creature in half with his fine double headed ax.

I felt a smile form, and I too leapt out, brandishing my blade. The dwarf was fighting the Uruk-hai that had been pinning the elf’s wrist to the ground, so I turned to the last on, the one who had been harming Legolas.

I grinned, glad that this was the one I would have the chance to slay.

I felt my blood begin to boil as the fight began.

Gimli, by now, had finished off the other creature and was setting on releasing the elf from his bonds.

I felt my anger overwhelm me as I battled the last abomination, slipping into that primal state, void of all logical thought.

My breath came fast as the thing fell heavily to the ground, quite dead, body shredded by the mercy of my blade.

I felt eyes upon me, and I turned to see Legolas, in all of his scarred beauty, staring at me with those wide cerulean eyes that had grown larger in what I assume as shock. Gimli's own eyes were wide as he watched me.

I unhooked my cloak and approached the pair, startled when Legolas shied away from me, moving slightly closer to the protective grasp of the dwarf. I glanced at Gimli, who took the cloak and wrapped it around the elf.

Gimli can be quite kind and gentle when he wishes to be.

Legolas stood, flinching slightly as his wounds stretched as he moved. I had to give him credit for his stubborn pride.

It was obvious to both of us that he was in pain, but he wouldn't let us help him.

While he was conscious, anyhow.

I caught him as he stumbled and blacked out, and I picked up his deceptively light body, making sure to keep from jostling him, keeping him covered.

We headed back to the camp in silence.
~*~*~*~*~

I heard the dwarf's cry, and it shocked me into awareness. A painful awareness, though it was to me.

My entire body burned with both shame and horror, pain that is unimaginable for those who have never experienced anything like what I did.

I groaned as I felt my bonds loosen, tossed aside, and I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from doing more than grunting when the blade was dislodged from my hand. And then callused, but gentle hands, helped me to sit up.

That was when I saw it: the darker side of the race called Man.

It was as if a daemon had possessed the normally composed man, driving him to commit acts unspeakable because of their brutality.

I heard something akin to an animal's snarl seep from his lips as he cleaved the thing's arm completely off. It was utterly sadistic, the way the body looked once he was through. Completely unrecognizable.

And then he turned to face me as if nothing had happened.

He moved to wrap his cloak about me, and I instinctively pulled away. I regretted the action nearly immediately after. I could see the pain reflected in his beautiful eyes.

Gimli helped me pull the cloak around my body, and I stood, flinching a little as the sharp flashes of pain rose again.

And then I stumbled, feeling my grasp on consciousness slipping again.
~*~*~*~*~

We carried him back to camp, and I quickly informed the dwarf that I was going to wash his wounds. Our stout friend nodded, starting a small fire despite the chance of drawing attention to ourselves as I walked towards the lagoon.

Legolas didn't shift the entire way down, even as I removed the cloak.

The elf groaned as I slid his body into the water. I shucked off my boots, rolling up the legs of my trousers and kneeled in the water.

I did my best not to jostle the man as I cleaned the wounds with what I had--water and meager strips of my cloak.

I gingerly cleansed the many scrapes and gashes made from claws and the rough treatment given him. The wound in his perfect hand was horrible, but I was glad that a fine blade made it and not some barred, jagged weapon. The wound was clean and straight through.

I felt horrible as I washed that wound. The elf writhed a little, whimpering. I'm quite sure it hurt.

I put an arm around him to steady him, and had it not been for the situation, I would have enjoyed his nude presence so near to me.

Cheerily, my mind decided to remind me of his being ravished. They had been none-too-gentle, those Uruk-hai.

I didn't wish to clean his insides so soon after the atrocities done to him, but if I had not done so, it the situation would have become worse.

I sighed, wetting my fingers before gingerly sliding them inside, scissoring them gently, washing him as best I could.

He groaned, biting down on his bottom lip. Unfortunately, he had awoken.
~*~*~*~*~

I was startled to awareness by the sudden intrusion. Hadn't they had enough?

It was then that I recalled the fact that my captors had been slaughtered. And the digits pushed inside of me were gentle and caring; thin, but still strong in their ruggedness, callused from years of training. And that distinct smell of sweat and leather overwhelmed me.

Aragorn.

There was pain, as one can imagine, but he was kind enough to keep it to a minimum.

I know I groaned at the intrusions at least once.

Despite the fact that it hurt--as those tender tissues were most likely shredded--it felt oddly good, and his tenderness was touching.

I had already been a fool before in front of him, and because of that, I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from betraying myself. I forced back the idea of shifting, closing my eyes tightly.

And the harder I tried not to make any indication that I enjoyed it, the harder it was to ignore.

I bit down tightly, feeling my teeth break the skin of my lip in a different place than before. Once again I felt nauseous as the coppery taste of my own blood seeped into my mouth.

And then the fingers were gone, and my hand unclenched, leaving deep nail marks in my skin. I relaxed a little, fluttering my eyes open as I intentionally slide me body further beneath the water, the cold liquid calming my arousal.

If he had noticed my condition, then he said nothing.
~*~*~*~*~

I felt him relax some as I removed my fingers. I must have hurt him more than I thought. I sighed, brushing my fingers over his lips where a new wound had formed.

He shifted a little, slipping slightly into the water.

I can't help but keep my arm around him, nuzzling the back of his neck as I whisper to him, barely able to keep the tremble from my voice.

"I'm so sorry, Legolas…" And I apologized for something more than hurting him just now. For pushing him away when we both needed comfort, for letting that happen to him, for frightening him. For so many things.

He only shook his head, breath a little heavier than before, slowly easing.

He was beautiful like that, even in his injured state, pale cheeks a little flushed, eyes having fluttered closed, hair stuck to his chest and face because of the water.

I reached up, brushing the wet strands out of his face.

"We'd best get back."

That was him that spoke in that soft, calm voice of his that purrs, sending shivers up my spine.

"Yes, we'd best. Gimli might be getting worried."

"Damn… dwarf…" he muttered tiredly before falling back into unconsciousness.

I sighed, lifting him again in my arms, drying him off with my cloak as best I could before wrapping him in it and carrying him back to the camp, already having shrugged on my boots and rolled down my leggings.

Gimli looked up from the fire as I approached. I noticed that he'd already set up Legolas' bedroll and he had sacrificed a blanket from his for the elf.

He saw me smiling as I looked at the extra blanket and ran a hand through his beard, a little flustered.

"Night gets cold. Colder when yer wet and hurt. Don' like bein' cold, figured he don' neither." His gruff voice was soft, slightly hesitant as he continued. "How is he?"

I shook my head a little, sighing softly. "I don't know, honestly. Some of his injuries are pretty bad." The dwarf frowned into his beard at the comment.

"Jus' had to happen now, didn' it? We might ne'er get the munchkins back."

It was true; I knew it. The threat of their deaths, their imprisonment, weighed heavily upon our backs.

"Don't say that, Gimli. We can only hope that Merry and Pippen will be fine, but--"

"It's too much for us to think of it."

The dwarf and I start at the soft but hoarse voice belonging to Legolas.

I gently laid the elf down on his bedroll, pulling the blankets over him.

"Oi, ye damned elf. Runnin' off like that and getting' yerself caught. Damn elves. Always wantin' attention." While his words were gruff and complaining, his tone was soft and friendly. He was obviously happy that Legolas was back.

As was I. More overjoyed than I let on, I think.

I bid the dwarf good night, once more taking up watch as he settled down to sleep.

In the middle of the night he woke blearily, Legolas did, only to slip into the nearly death-like trance of the Healing Rest.

Even as I watched throughout the night under the light of the stars and our meager fire, I saw the deep wounds fold and begin to close. This was the magic of the Elven Healing Rest.

It was thing I was in awe of.

Just as I was in awe of Legolas' beauty beneath the folds of silver starlight.

By the morning, he was able to stand on his own, able to move about in that calm feline way of his.

He excused himself to the lake after we were finishetingting from of what food we had.
~*~*~*~*~

I carried my weapons carefully as I climbed my way to the lakeside. I was still sore, though I wouldn't mention it to my companions. They had worried enough, I hadn't felt the need to worry them further.

However, I had beheld dreams during the sleep that I had taken. They were dreams of Aragorn.

The way he had touched me, cared for me, the way he had sparked something inside of me had brought upon my consciousness these dreams. A strong yearning for his companionship overwhelmed me, a yearning for his physically intimate companionship.

And once more I was found having lost track of time, staring off at the horizon numbly, letting my confusing thoughts roam where they willed.

It was Aragorn, again, who brought me from my stupor, sitting down beside me on the bank of the lake, and for a moment staying silent before turning his head to face me.

"Legolas… is there any way that I can help you?"
~*~*~*~*~

"Aragorn," his voice trembled as I'd never heard it do so before, "comfort me, please."

And somehow I knew what comfort he craved. It was a comfort that would momentarily banish reality from his thoughts. That is the comfort he wanted.

And then, because I too craved that contact, I gave in, pushing away all thoughts of my lovely Arwen for the comfort Legolas and I could offer each other.

I gave a nod to his timid askance, bidding him to lay back against the ground. He did so in a paced manner, slowly unfolding his lithe body and stretching it out across the grass, watching me with his beautiful hawk-like eyes. And he trusted me, then, as we trusted each other many times before and after. He trusted me with something so holy as his own body.

For a moment I only stared, for he was a beauty that I had never seen the likes of before, and he let me stare, allowed me to gaze at him in that calm silence. He let his rosy lips part in a small smile, taking one of my hands in his own and lifting it, brushing my fingers over his cheeks and lips until I gained back my mind enough to move my hand myself. I touched all of the skin I could find--his neck and face--and I was enchanted by his lips. They were lips that were impossibly soft and satiny. And then I dared to run my fingers through his golden hair, which he had recently drawn back into that customary style of his. I smiled as I noticed his long locks splayed out across the ground like glimmering sunbeams.

And then I leaned down and gently took his lips in mine. I was watching him as he returned the kiss, as he lifted his head to keep the contact. His eyes fluttered as I reached up, sliding my thumb across his cheek gently, and I smiled against his lips.

The touches were electric and only furthered our desire.

And then we pulled apart when the need for air arose. No sooner when we had breathed, our lips met again, parting to allow our tongues past the barrier of flesh and tooth, exploring every inch of each other's mouths. I heard him sigh as he leaned his head back to rest it on the grass below him. He opened his eyes to watch me when I pulled away, trailing my hands down his sides. He shivered a little, still watching me, and I smiled down at him. He was so pretty, lying there so comfortably, hands resting lightly on my thighs as I straddled him. I leaned over him, kissing every spot of bare flesh I could find--his lips, his cheeks, his jaw. There was a soft intake of breath as I dared to attack his neck, kissing the flesh gently before suckling on the alabaster skin.

He arched his back at the ministrations, and I saw his pouty lips quirk in the slightest of smiles as his eyelids once more fluttered, closing to mere slits.

I reached up, brushing my fingers down his face. I moved from his forehead, over the crest of his nose, over those perfect lips of his, over the slight swell over his chin, slipping my fingers down his neck, tugging gently on the collar of his tunic, then sliding my hands over the greyish cloth to his belt. I slowly unhooked this, still with my eyes on his to watch for any hesitation, any discomfort. And I found nothing but trust; nothing but a wish for comfort in his pretty eyes.

I unclasped the buttons on the tunic he wore that he'd drawn from his pack earlier that morning, and allowed my eyes momentarily to leave his face to watch as his ivory skin was revealed to my hungry eyes. The flesh was unmarred by the injuries he'd sustained earlier, and for that I was thankful, for now, in the sunlight and away from the worries of our travels, his skin glowed softly, it seemed, as it was so perfect.

I slid the cloth over his head and away from him, sitting back to look at the revealed flesh. The man had seemed thin before, and indeed he was, but underlying the ivory skin were toned muscles that rippled as he shifted when I ran my hands down his chest. The only color seen was the pair of rosy nipples placed on either side of his chest. I ran my hands down his chest and abdomen, pausing at the rim of his leggings before resuming my exploration, moving my hands, palms down, back up the skin, feeling him shiver, hearing him gasp as the callused surfaces brushed over those two nubs. He arched his back again, pressing his chest further into my touch and drawing a groan from both of us as he ground our hips together.
~*~*~*~*~

I watched him through hooded eyes as he stared down at my chest when he drew away my tunic. I saw those eyes of his glitter, and it brought a smile to my lips. When he touched me, it was tenderly and lightly, as if he were afraid I'd shatter if he pressed too hard.

Careful, kind Aragorn, always that is what I know him as.

The gentle tendencies he had towards me banished the thoughts in my mind of the daemon I'd seen in him, if only for a little while.

I sighed as he touched me, as he so tenderly brushed his palms over my torso, and I couldn't help but arch as his rougher skin rubbed over my sensitive nipples.

A groan escaped both of our lips as I inadvertently pushed our hips together.

The friction was tremendous and so exciting that I felt my hands trembling. And suddenly, as if I had woken from some clouded dream, the heat of his body so close to mine overcame me and I felt my desire flare within me, blood rushing downwards.

And then he bowed his head so he could look at me, and there was the hint of a smirk on his lips. He leaned down lacing my neck and chest with kisses before taking one of my nipples into his mouth and rolling his tongue over it, grabbing it lightly between his teeth and tugging gently. That paired with the feeling of his scruffy chin rubbing against my skin overwhelmed me, and I cried out, one of my hands leaving his thigh to cup the back of his neck.

I felt him shift as he removed his gloves and he took the other nub in his fingers, rolling it gently.
And then suddenly those teasing touches were gone and he breathed on the wet flesh, making me shiver and he laid a finger over my lips.

"Shh, my prince, we don't want our dwarven friend joining us, now do we?"

I could do naught but shake my head a little as I lifted my trembling fingers to unlatch the straps and belts he wore so that I could slip off the leather vest, the tunic and the mail shirt, tossing them to the side quietly. There was a stark difference in our skins as I looked. I had never seen a human like this before. His skin was a soft, easy brown, tanned from hours skirting among the forests and my own seemed as if I had never seen the sun once. His skin was a little rough, unlike mine, and the most fascination thing was the sparse scattering of dark curls across his chest. It wasn't thick, but quite enticing.

Elves have no body hair, but for that upon their heads and thus this hair fascinated me. And I found myself forgetting my desire for a moment to feel the soft hair upon the newly revealed flesh. I smiled then, reaching up to feel the stubble he'd grown over his time on the roads, and he smiled back at me.

I once more cupped his neck and tugged him down so that I could embrace his lips with mine in a short kiss before running my fingers over his sides to rest lightly on the slight swell of his hips. I gazed up at him, at the round swells of his muscles, over the taut stomach that disappeared beneath those constricting leggings, and once more I felt my longing flare within me.
~*~*~*~*~

I found his fascination with the hair on my chest rather amusing and allowed him to fathom that curiosity of his.
And then he kissed me shortly but intensely, silently telling me of that urgency we both felt.

I reached down to slide off both his and my boots, then once more locking my eyes on his for any reaction, I allowed my fingers to dance over the rim of his leggings, not being able to help but chuckle as he squirmed.

"Aragorn," he breathed out erotically, nearly pushing me over the edge right there, "stop teasing. It hurts."

And I knew the pain of restriction that he felt. I took pity on him and moved just enough to allow my hands to slide off his leggings, not at all surprised when I found that he wore no undergarments. He shivered as the air touched his skin, but I heard a distinct sigh of comfort.

I quickly rid myself of my own clothing, looking down at him with his eyes hooded, pale cheeks slightly flushed from desire. And for a moment my hungry eyes rested on his hips and what laid between his legs before I leaned down, stroking his cheek gently, kissing his lips softly.

And before I knew it, I found myself on my back with the frisky elf on his knees, smirking at me. He trailed his index finger from my chin down, over my chest, making sure to brush over my nipples, and down to my waist where he paused, glancing up at me as he leaned down.

I felt his breath against my crotch and I shivered, crying out as he drifted his tongue over the underside of my member.

He smiled up at me mischievously. "Now who needs to keep quiet, mm, ranger?"

He reminded me of a fae then because of the way he moved, the almost ethereal way the sunlight shone through those brilliant golden locks of hair, the way he rested his lips against my member, placing gentle kisses along the length of it.

Legolas reached up, brushing his fingers over my lips as he grinned at me, taking my length fully into his mouth. I groaned quietly, my hands fisting in the grass, my eyes closing.

He bobbed his head, brushing teasing fingers over my balls as he did so. The elf then stopped moving, tensing the muscles in his throat, rolling my balls in his hand, and I felt myself let go. I cried out, though how loudly I do not know, spilling my seed inside his mouth. I opened my eyes just quick enough to see him swallow it, his eyes glittering as he watched me, pulling his lips away and quirking them in a slight smile. My chest heaved as my breath came harsher, and he pushed himself up over me so that he could kiss me.

The touch of his lips on mine thrilled me, but the bitter taste of my own essence on his lips sent an unexpected shiver of delight through my body.

"Aragorn," he breathed again huskily, lips moving against my own as he spoke, "I want you to take me. Please." I could feel the slight quivering of his body, and not, I think, from only desire. "Make me forget for just a little while."

His voice was so pleading, so unlike him, so enticing that I couldn't deny him that or anything else at that moment. And so I nodded, kissing him once as he pulled back and crawled onto his hands and knees. And like that, offering himself to me, I felt the blood rush down again, and I nearly groaned just at the sight.
~*~*~*~*~

As I moved, I noticed my body once more shaking a little. The memories of the atrocities done unto me were still fresh, but silently I reminded myself of whom it was I was participating in this primal act with. Aragorn, my trusted friend and loyal companion. He would never harm me intentionally, that I knew.

And so I righted myself, calming my racing heart as best I could.

I felt his body close to mine, and I shivered as he ran his fingers up my back. I jumped a little at the feel of his tongue sliding up the back of my leg and over the swell of my rump. All the while those rough, but tender fingers pressed gentle circles into my back.

I bit down on my bottom lip, letting out a soft cry as his tongue darted to my entrance, gently probing for a moment before he pulled away, wetting his fingers by slipping them inside my own mouth for a few moments. Then once more the opposite hand began rubbing my back and he lightly pressed one digit past my entrance. I let out another sound at the intrusion, images of the incidents with the Uruk-hai flaring back into my mind.

But his touch was different than theirs, far different, and the memories were soon pushed back as he calmly slipped another finger in, scissoring them.

I felt myself nearly let go as his digits brushed against that secret spot, making my legs shake and my arms give way. I nearly screamed, chest heaving as I rested my cheek against the grass, instinctively pushing back against the fingers inside of me, my hands fisted in the grass. I felt the plant give way beneath my clutching fingers, and my short nails dug into my palm almost painfully.

But nothing was as painful as the lack of friction caused by those damnable fingers settled within me, moving just enough to tease.

Then, all of a sudden, they were gone, and I felt empty.

~*~*~*~*~

At first I was worried as his upper torso bent, as he pressed his face to the ground and cried out, but my worries were eased as he pressed back against my fingers. I smiled slightly, nuzzling his side before I positioned myself at his opening, placing my hands on his hips. I leaned over, kissing his shoulder gently as I slid inside him, closing my eyes sorrowfully as I heard a whimper of pain come from him.

And I was inside him fully, staying motionless for a moment to allow him to get used to my presence there. He groaned, tightening the muscles in his entrance around me, and I too groaned loudly. And then I moved, drawing out slowly before gently pushing back in, establishing a rhythm for us that he would pair, thrusting back against me.

I leaned back a little, pulling in the slightest, and his body came with mine as I sat back, my hands still gripping his hips.

One of my hands slid around his waist to snake up his chest and over his neck to brush against his lips, and I gasped as he took my fingers into his mouth, sucking on them and scraping his teeth gently over the surface of the digits. When I slid them from his lips, I trailed them down his chin to his neck, which I brushed my wet fingers over, making him lean his head back against my shoulder.

I looked down at him, and I found that the sight was utterly erotic. His eyes were closed and sweat dripped down his flushed face lazily, jumping each time his body moved as I thrust into him. His hair stuck to his skin because of the sweat that rolled down the ivory surface and his lips parted each time he let forth an impassioned moan.

I let my other hand trek across his abdomen and lower, taking his hardened member into my hand and stroking it in time with our thrusts. He shuddered then, one hand lying gently over my own upon his shaft, as if in guidance, the other reaching up to immerse itself in my dark hair.

And the pace increased as we careened towards our climaxes.

I bent my head forward, parting my jaw to nibble gently on the tip of his ear.

This action, paired with the others, sent him over the edge. He cried out loudly, thin fingers gripping the back of my head, other hand tightening its hold on mine as he spilled his seed all over us.

I closed my eyes tightly, grunting as I thrust once more, spilling my own essence into him, whispering his name softly against his ear.

Our chests heaved as we sat there for a moment, limbs still entwined in the fashion they were in when we climaxed, my head resting against his back, his against my shoulder. And then he thanked me softly and tiredly, turning his head as to brush his lips against my cheek.
~*~*~*~*~

I heard him sigh as I kissed his cheek, the aftereffects of the act slowly ebbing from our minds and bodies.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" His voice got suddenly serious and he reached up to stroke my hair away from my face. I only shook my head. I would be sore, that I knew, but I wouldn't worry him with that knowledge. There was no need for him to blame himself for yet another thing.

He slid himself out of me as his member softened, and I stood, albeit a bit shakily. I turned to him and smiled, running my fingers through his sweaty hair before leaning down to place a kiss upon his forehead. I then made my way to the lake, careful of my steps, for my legs still shook slightly from the actions taken.

I heard him shift behind me, and then I was lifted up in his arms.

We both laughed softly as he took us down the rest of the way and set me back on my feet in the water.

I dove under quickly, immediately starting to wash the grime from my skin. When I surfaced, swiping wet hair out of my face, I saw Aragorn watching me, smiling and I blinked, walking over to him. For a moment I thought something was wrong until he grinned and kissed me, grabbing me around the waist and diving under the water.

We laughed again as we surfaced, leaving little kisses across each other's skin before working on cleaning ourselves.
Soon enough we had gathered up our possessions, dressed, and returned to camp where the Dwarf waited.

And then, we were gone, our troubles once more sobering us into a steady silence. I took the lead like I was used to, scouting, wary of any sort of sign of the creatures and our small friends.

I knew that the acts completed earlier were scheduled for only that one time. That he still loved Arwen as much as ever. The act had been for nothing more than comfort, a hope that the valleys of passion would banish the troubles, the worries and pains of our travels from our minds, if only for a day, for an hour, if only for a minute.

And so I lived with a silent love eating at my heart as I watched Arwen and Aragorn in their happiness. But I could not hate them, either of them. For time had granted them a gift that I would never have returned to me. It was a gift of love, and of eternal companionship, never to be scratched or marred.