The blond prince approached the dark man with caution. He stole gradually upon his victim, making no sound.
"Aragorn," he said in a loud voice, unbothered by the attention it may cause.
The man spun round, hair whipping across his face. He glared at the Elf, his eyes dark and furious.
"It is true then," continued Legolas, "you are of Aragorn of the Dunedain."
Legolas lifted his head to look at the man, eyes challenging him to respond. Aragorn's eyes searched the room to see if the Elf's outburst had bought any unwanted attention to them. He saw that it had not; people continued drinking, laughing and generally enjoying themselves at this banquet hosted by Lord Elrond.
"You know so much of me," Aragorn said in a hushed whisper, "yet I know nothing about you."
Aragorn grabbed the Elf's arm, surprised at the muscles he felt tense beneath his fingers. Aragorn looked up at the Elf and was met by two soft eyes. His tongue flicked out moistening his lips. Legolas' gaze followed the movement and he was surprised at how it excited him. The Ranger interested him in ways beyond the Elf's control.
"Come with me," said Aragorn.
"Gladly," the Elf replied.
Aragorn led the willing Elf out of the room and down a short corridor. They stopped and Aragorn released Legolas' arm. He looked at the blond Elf, his eyes searching for some hint of emotion in the icy front; Legolas noticed this and allowed a small smile of amusement to cross his lips.
"How do you know who I am?" Aragorn finally asked breaking the silence.
"Are you not interested in who I am?" asked Legolas coolly.
Aragorn glared at the Elf before him. Again Legolas smiled at the man, he leant back against the wall and crossed his arms across his chest.
"I am Legolas," he continued, "Son of Thranduin."
Aragorn's face softened, he had heard of this Elf. A beauty among his kind.
"The Prince of Mirkwood, it is an honour."
"It is also an honour to meet Isildur's heir, Aragorn son of Acathorn," replied Legolas.
"You speak none of that Legolas," snapped Aragorn.
"And why not?" Legolas asked teasingly, daring the man to react.
"There are men here from Gondor who do not know of my lineage. I do not wish for any trouble."
"Such as Boromir?" questioned Legolas.
Aragorn nodded solemnly. Legolas watched the muscles flicker in his throat, his fist clenched and unclenched repeatedly. Legolas stood up, arms by his sides, he walked slowly towards Aragorn.
Nervous of the Elf Aragorn slowly stepped backwards until he felt his back against a wall. Legolas raised his hand grazing the man's cheek. Without realising what he was doing, Aragorn leaned into the touch kissing the Elf's palm.
"And how are you going to persuade me?" purred Legolas.
"I could just ask nicely I suppose."
"You could."
Legolas leant in close to Aragorn and placed his lips to the man's ear, blowing softly.
"Or you could..."
The sentence was left unfinished as Aragorn closed the distance between them. His mouth descended on the Elf's roughly. Legolas responded with equal intensity as he leant into Aragorn, so they were connected in every way. He placed his hands on either side of the man as they dueled in a useless battle for dominance.
Persuasion. Legolas smiled inwardly to himself. He liked being persuaded.
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Story notes: Setting: Before the Council of Elrond
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