Disclaimer: Do not own anything. All bow down to JRR Tolkien. Thank you Peter Jackson for the lovely visuals.
AN: This is slash. I can only read and write slash fanfiction. Don't like, don't read. I have my own opinion and you have yours.
Warnings/Rating: Pretty harmless stuff.
Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated. Flames are funny.
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Sighing softly, Legolas dropped onto the bed next to where Aragorn was sitting with his head in his hands. The essence of victory had coursed through their veins the night before when the battle of Helm's Deep had been won - but now as everyone in King Theoden's halls was resting for an uncertain tomorrow, a black brooding atmosphere penetrated even the thick walls of the Deep. For though the sweet battle had been won, the war of Middle-Earth had only just begun.
Legolas silently stared at the man in front of him. The future King had bathed and changed into cleaner garments, making him look presentable for the first time in months. However no matter how much he washed, numerous cuts and many scars still outlined the battle-weary brown skin. The elf carefully touched his arm.
"Aragorn," he whispered.
Bleary grey eyes touched with a quiet sadness met his own elven gaze.
"Yes?"
"Why do you not rest? You should take this rare opportunity to enjoy a slumber on a bed, my friend. I fear we should not have such a luxury after we leave this place." Soft words, uttered too silkily for mortal hearing. But Aragorn was no ordinary mortal. Legolas moved closer to him, wanting to comfort his friend as much as he could. He could sense the diminishment of the man's spirit and the weariness the mortal body was enduring. He started to massage the man's tense back muscles.
Aragorn leaned back to Legolas' touch, the tiniest of sighs escaping the dry lips. He licked them, his mind slowly turning to thoughts of fair Legolas. To the public gaze, the man and the elf painted a picture of unwavering loyalty and fierce alliance. Each was a proud, valiant warrior on his own, but it was together in battle when both Aragorn's sword and Legolas' arrows were aimed towards their foes, that they showed the their true deadly colours.
To a few and in their own private meetings, however, it could be described as an altogether different picture. There was an unspoken connection between them that bonded the man and elf unusually tight together. Their friendship was not a normal one and some would even define it as 'intense', had the pair realized it for themselves. But to Legolas, elven prince of Mirkwood, and Aragorn of the Dunedain, theirs was a friendship of usual quality.
Aragorn didn't have to utter a word of his feelings but the elf could sense his dark mood.
Long fingers nimbly caressed the over-stretched muscles and Aragorn continued to give contented little sighs as his back loosened up.
"My dear friend, you always know the right thing to say and do," A half backward glance and faint smile to show his appreciation. "You comfort me at all times of need."
Legolas stopped his ministrations and moved slightly so he was now in front of him. There was something almost provocative in that one fluid motion, but the thought vanished before it even registered in Aragorn's consciousness.
"I am always here for you, Estel." Legolas locked gaze with Aragorn and tilted his head a little to one side. "You and I both know such a friendship as like ours will continue until we both come into passing. I fear nothing in battle when I knew you are at my side."
The man was suddenly overcome with emotion. Without thinking, he clasped one pale slender hand into his own and held it against his broad chest. "I am touched, Legolas," he whispered. "For you to utter such things to me and to have experienced your friendship... 'tis too much of an honour." In another seemingly automatic gesture, he brought the elf's delicate hand up to his lips, caressing the white milky skin tenderly.
Legolas smiled gently and enjoyed the feeling of stubble on Aragorn's chin against his cool fingers. But the smile faded as he watched the man continue.
"Estel..."
Aragorn was kissing each of his fingers like they were some delicate porcelain. He turned his face so his cheek was softly stroking the hand. "Your skin... 'tis ethereal that skin as pure and soft as yours could remain untainted for many centuries."
"You know of our elven healing abilities. A scar should never remain on any elf."
"Yet it still fascinates me... elves always hide behind that rather disturbing mask of neutrality, so one could be forgiven for desiring to understand the depths of the Firstborn beings."
Legolas' eyes widened. He gently withdrew his hand away and looked at his friend as if seeing him for the first time.
"But you have the Evenstar... surely you have spent many a moment with her to know intimately what our kindred are like?"
Aragorn turned his face away from the intense scrutiny and licked his lips again. "I may have an idea of elves through Arwen but you must remember she has half-elven blood. Though I may add, this does not imply she is an impure Firstborn in any way - for she is exactly like of you and any other pure blood."
There was a pause. The pair listened to the thick blanket of silence surrounding them and the room. Aragorn shifted rather uncomfortably in his position. He didn't know what else to add and couldn't for the life of him guess what the elf was thinking now. It dawned on him that this was quite a strange conversation indeed.
"Do you still wish to?"
The sudden question voiced by that melodious voice jolted the former Ranger out of his reverie.
"Do I wish to what?"
Legolas merely blinked. "You said you desired to understand the depths of the Firstborn beings. Do you still want to find out?"
It was the last and furthermost question Aragorn had been expecting from the elf. The laden innuendo behind the words caused apprehension behind his facade, a feeling unknown to him for many a year.
"What do you mean?"
"Estel..." Legolas was ever so slowly inching towards him now, their faces only spaces apart. "I am your trusted friend and would never hurt you. Do you understand?" There was something in the elf's liquid eyes that Aragorn had never seen before, nor could he quite place his finger on. It was something... akin to playing with fire.
"We trust each other, do we not?" he breathed into his ear. "For if the truth to be told... I am also curious about the depths of Men and what they feel with their mortal heart, body and soul..." Amused, he caught the shocked expression on Aragorn's face. He reached out and smoothed out a crease on the man's forehead.
"I would never hurt you." he repeated, intensity colouring his orbs.
Aragorn finally found the ability to speak. His breathing grew more irregular as he struggled to control the mounting excitement he felt stir within him. "And I would never dream about betraying the one I trust with my life," he stated firmly and, as if to prove the point, he cupped one smooth flawless cheek and met with the elf's equally intense gaze.
It was like experimenting with a mirror image - both man and elf started by tentatively touching each other's faces, exploring one another as the boundaries of friendship between them blurred. With every passing moment, their touches grow more bold, each wanting to learn about the other as much as possible. It was as if there would never be another moment like this in the future. It occurred in their minds that their behaviour was bordering outside the stance of pure friendship, but nevertheless it did not matter anymore. Nothing really matter anymore except this moment in time.
Aragorn couldn't get enough of the golden locks that adorned Legolas' face. He leant forward and breathed into it. The scent of forest leaves and sunshine and clear sparkling streams was delicious, just like the skin around the neck. Aragorn thought he heard the softest moan issuing from those pale lips as he continued to bury his face into the flesh. He felt Legolas' fingers combing through his hair and his other hand stroking his chest. Little electrifying tingles were sweeping through the base of his spine.
Aragorn decided he wanted more than just the smell of the beautiful creature in front of him. He wanted to taste him, wanted to hear those lovely sounds from his mouth again. Realization hit him - he wanted Legolas. This was turning out more than an innocent little game. He wanted Legolas to feel pleasure by him and with him. He wanted Legolas to enjoy this experience with a Man.
His heart started drumming harder than usual at the thought. He could hear it beat loud and clear inside his chest. Legolas' hand stilled as if sensing the change. There was another sigh above him.
"What are you thinking about now?" Even Legolas' usual calm voice sounded somewhat shaky.
This time there was no hesitation. Aragorn moved his face away from the base of the elf's neck and looked directly into his eyes. There was no mistaking the desire behind those orbs anymore. He could not stop the words coming out even if he wanted to.
"Can I?"
He didn't really have to ask because he knew the answer anyway.
Then their lips met.
The kiss began with a cautionary note, because an outcome of a first kiss had the power to make or break the situation. There was something about the contact of lips that spontaneously aligned the contact of minds as well. Aragorn wanted to kiss Legolas properly. He wanted Legolas to enjoy kissing him. After the initial wavering moment, Aragorn relaxed and closed his eyes to simply let the sensations override his whole being.
Legolas started to trace the outline of the man's mouth with his tongue for him to open up. Aragorn complied and let the prince's tongue enter. As he did so, he wrapped his arms around the slim waist and Legolas settled on stroking the back of his neck and hair. They were now perfectly aligned in symmetry.
Aragorn's mind was reeling. Legolas' mouth was so so hot and smooth inside. It was nothing like he had ever experienced before. Arwen's chaste kisses flirted into his mind - they were sweet and tender but nothing like this sort. No. This kiss with Legolas was... how could he put it? Divine. It was breathtakingly divine.
As the kiss deepened, they unconsciously drew their bodies closer together. Legolas' skillful tongue was thoroughly searching Aragorn's mouth. Aragorn fought for control as he battled his own tongue against the prince's. He kissed harder, wanting to taste Legolas inside and out. Their teeth clashed more than once and their faces were flushed and breathing frantic with need. Aragorn felt Legolas tighten his grasp on his neck and hair. Then the elf gave out a moan.
That one moan startled the man's body into action. As if in reflex, Aragorn anxiously pressed their bodies closer again, the grip on Legolas' waist exerted rather painfully. There was heat building up inside of him he didn't know existed.
The elf in his arms was writhing, but it wasn't to escape. Legolas gave another moan, louder this time and he too felt the delicious pressure increasing inside his body. He wanted more, he needed more. He started to run his hands over Aragorn's chest and back, over the thin clothing, all the while still kissing him hard. He knew they would have to break apart to take a breath soon. But not now.
Suddenly he felt Aragorn's overheated hands going under his shirt. The touch of the man's hand stroking his bare chest and back with a notable frenzy was like flame licking the skin. He shuddered involuntarily and gasped when the fingers seemed to know the delicate areas to reach... like around his stomach... and the small of his back... ah it was too too much. Not quite thinking anymore, he did the same and let his hands wander all over the man's naked shoulders and chest. The skin under his touch was damp with sweat. This time it was Aragorn that moaned and in response, bit the elf's tongue. He could taste his own blood.
Legolas broke the kiss and gasped for air. He had to, otherwise it'd be their last and only kiss.
"Ai...!" he stuttered. "Estel we must stop..." His vision was hazy and he felt lightheaded. Hastily taking his hands away from Aragorn, he broke the tight embrace of his friend and stood up. He looked down at the man who was now panting heavily.
There was silence between them as they both tried to recompose themselves.
Aragorn wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. How did it get so hot in here anyway? He cleared his throat.
"Well... that was quite an experience." He coughed and dared to look up at his friend, who was still motionlessly staring at him with a most unreadable expression. "Legolas...?"
For a moment it seemed Legolas was frozen on the spot. It was so silent and still between them that they could hear their heartbeats slowing down. Finally he stirred. An unexpected serene expression had settled on his face. A look of understanding. He sat down again next to the man and took his hand. Aragorn released the breath he didn't know was holding in.
The elf reached up and brushed a stray lock of brown hair from Aragorn's eyes. "Our curiosity has been satisfied, has it not? You now understand a little better of elves and I have of Men. I could feel and taste your mortality through the ceaseless beating of your heart."
Aragorn opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He seemed rather bewildered.
"We should leave it as that for we have learned enough for one night," Legolas continued gently as he continued holding his hand. "For already we have crossed the line and I do not wish to risk further..." His lips curved into a small smile, but it did not quite reach his eyes.
Aragorn grasped the hand tighter and pulled him forward. His leaned towards him until it seemed their lips were going to touch once again. "My friend, why do you fear that makes you utter such a thing? For we had only just begun."
Legolas startled at that and unconsciously flinched. It looked like he was going to take his hand away. But the man had other ideas.
Lips brushing against lips, the lightest of a kiss that caused shivers down the elf's back. "Do not deny we both wanted our proposed experiment to continue... we only stopped rather abruptly because you were beginning to feel afraid."
This time, Legolas obliterated any trace of rationality left in his mind and felt himself surrender. Aragorn was trailing butterfly kisses down the length of his neck. Each kiss was leaving him increasingly helpless. There was only one word coherent in the prince's mind.
Yes...
~ FIN ~