Legolas drowsily awoke to the gentle dragging of Aragorn's fingers on his back. Up and down. Up and down. As he gained a little more consciousness he began break out into little shivers from slow scraping.
"Hmmmmmm" the elf sighed into the satin pillow case. Aragorn's bed was filled with the scent of him as he did this. It would have been for him easy to fall into a lovely fog of sweet sensation then, completely at ease with the soothing fingertips of his mortal king and his presence. Up and down went the fingers and all was right in Legolas' world.
Then, a slight change in the pace and pressure of the fingertips that chased invisible lines down the elf's back brought a sudden squirm to the lithe figure.
Aragorn, seated beside his lover on the bed, smiled knowingly.
Until this point, Legolas hadn't moved since he began to awaken. As he attempted it now he realized that he was in bondage. While that would alarm him under any other circumstances it did little to phase the elf. In fact he smiled inwardly for he and Aragorn had often used the king's four-post bed and soft leather cuffs for their own personal pleasure.
Legolas shifted a bit on the bed and relaxed again, forgetting the odd change in the fingers. Again Aragorn's fingers made a slow teasing pass up and down the elf's back. This time however, he continued. Up and down.
Legolas squirmed and buried his head a little in the pillow, his golden hair falling forward as he did so.
"Aragorn, you're tickling" he whispered, his voice strained a little from surpressing an undignified giggle.
Again, Aragorn smiled. Instead of returning to his soothing strokes on Legolas' back, he continued his current ministrations and sat upon his knees in preparation for movement.
The light tickling sensations were getting to Legolas. He didn't want to get up however, he'd rather Aragorn lay with him some more. He had decided that by not giving into the ticklish feelings he stood more of a chance of not having to get up and ruin the sleepy and content haze he had been enjoying.
Up and down. Legolas was smiling foolishly into the pillow. He could still half enjoy this, he decided, when the fingers began to scribble as they dragged across his back. The added sensation felt like tiny insects tickling up and down his spine.
"Aragorn, stop it." Legolas giggled outright and began squirming more visibly.
When the tickling fingers added the back of his sensitive neck and shoulders to their path, his struggles intensified more so. "Ay! It t-t-t-ickles!"
His squirming and giggles continued for several more minutes before Aragorn stopped his teasing. Confused and breathless, Legolas began to say something but was quickly silenced by a damp cloth being held to his mouth and nose. He felt panic and confusion rising in unison but was fast asleep before he could form a single thought.
When he awoke again, Legolas was naked and still bound to Aragorn's bed, only this time he was face up and spread eagle. Aragorn towered above him, a triumphant smirk on his face.
"Release me." The elf demanded of the man, blue eyes piercing him with a look of disapproval. "That was unkind of you, Aragorn. You know how I hate that."
Aragorn looked down at his elf prince, tied and helpless, and yet still so apt to sulk and make demands. He did love him, and as much as he loved him, and as much tenderness as the shared, he still could not move past this one thing... He wondered briefly if his Elven prince had any inkling as to what was going on. No, he decided, he has only one thing on his mind right now. Escape. He knew that Legolas trusted him. Beyond question. Trusted him with his life. Of course Legolas was expecting to be released abruptly. He trusted that when he was firm enough Aragorn would obey. But, he thought, this was not entirely a matter of trust.
"Release me." Legolas said again crossly, and looked up at the ceiling, annoyed.
Aragorn didn't answer him with words. Instead he climbed atop his elf and straddled his waist, and bent over to kiss him on the lips. Legolas relaxed as they kissed, even more when he felt Aragorn move his hands to his bound wrists. As Aragorn pulled his lips away, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Legolas, expecting his arms to be free, attempted to follow his lover's mouth. Satisfaction that had rested in the elf's eyes turned rapidly to confusion and then irritation and anger.
"I said -" he began, and was cut of as Aragorn's finger tips began tracing down the length of his outstretched arms, agonizingly slow. Legolas stiffened and shut his eyes against the sensations. As Aragorn teased the inside of the skilled archer's elbows, Legolas began to whimper and shake his head on the satin pillow.
When the fingers began to descend closer towards the archer's under arms, he broke out into a small series of giggles and fought to regain control although he began to tug at his bonds.
Aragorn watched his lover closely. He'd tickled Legolas briefly on several occasions, sometimes without a reaction from his not so ticklish spots, and other times he'd been rewarded with a very un-elvish squeal or shriek when he found more ticklish targets. Whenever he'd attempted to catch the fair elf off-guard however, no matter where he'd tickled Legolas always seemed to lock his arms down straight. It didn't matter if Aragorn had attacked his sensitive neck, ticklish sides or stomach. Legolas, it seemed, was always attempting to subtly protect another terribly ticklish target. Aragorn's smile broadened. Of course, the archer was extremely skilled with a bow and arrow. His arms were decorated with finely toned muscles that suited his flawlessly beautiful frame perfectly. His hands, his fingers, his biceps, triceps, all of it....they were his tools in defense, one of his chief methods of lovemaking, and, Aragorn suspected, a very, very sensitive spot for the elf.
"No! Stop!" Legolas' cry of laughter and pleading brought Aragorn out of his thoughts and back to his reality. His fingers were deftly running back and forth over his captive lover's biceps. Legolas was in a near frenzied state. He was sweating for once, panting, squirming, and having abandoned the pretense of composure, laughing in a voice two octaves higher than his own. "Stop this now!"
Aragorn paused his tickling. Relieved, Legolas panted for air, but was not released. "Let me go, Aragorn." He said firmly in between deep breaths. "You are being childish and undignified."
Aragorn couldn't hide the smirk that spread across his face. "Undignified?" he mused. "I suppose my prince, that I am behaving as childish and undignified as you are." He emphasized his point by quickly scribbling a tickling finger under the elf's chin.
A very childish "Eeep!" escaped the elf before he could try and pin the finger with his chin. He continued to "Eeep" and gasp and the single digit tickled around his neck and shoulders.
"Stop it!" Legolas cried again, closing his eyes and scrunching his face as he fought the urge to dissolve into giggles. When he opened them again he saw that Aragorn's other hand had busied itself producing a small white feather and it quickly replaced the tickling hand.
"Stop what, Legolas?" Aragorn queried innocently as he used the small plume to tease the elf's neck.
"S-s-toop-p that!" he sputtered as the feather began to seek new ground around his extremely sensitive ears. "Ay! No!!"
"Say it." Aragorn said patiently as he tickled the edges of Legolas' ears.
"Torture! Stop!" Legolas trashed in his bonds.
"Say it." Aragorn repeated as he teased the hypersensitive point.
Legolas shrieked. His back acrhed and he cried, "Stop tickling me!" before collapsing into tortured giggles. He tried to shake his head away but was rewarded by Aragorn repeating the tickling on the other ear. He shook and squealed from time to time, all the while screaming in his mind for Aragorn to stop.
"Stop! Mercy!" he cried finally, resorting to pleading with his fiendish lover.
"Why do you hate this so, Legolas?" Aragorn asked, ignoring the elf's cries for mercy.
Legolas could not form an answer admidst the horrible giggles and he feared he was about to go insane when the torment of his ticklish ears stopped.
"Ah, Aragorn, thank the Gods you -" he began but caught his breath in his throat when he felt the cursed fingertips back at the dreaded spot above his under arms.
"Why do you hate this so, Legolas?" Aragorn asked again, looking the poor elf in the eyes.
Confused and teary eyed, with his crown of golden hair matted to his face with sweat, he searched the man's dark eyes for a sign of reassurance that it was over. "B-because...." he stammered.
"Yes?" Aragorn's eyebrows arched in anticipation and his fingers stood poised above their targets.
"B-because..."
Aragorn's impatience got the better of him. "No stalling." he said abruptly and began to attack Legolas' under arms with light, nimble tickling fingers.
Legolas screamed. He arched his back until Aragorn was sure it would snap and then he fell back down to the bed and began to buck and thrash. He screamed again as Aragorn drilled his thumbs into his lower under arm and then began to laugh harder and more helplessly than he had ever done in his life. Tear flowed from his eyes and were lost in his golden hair and the sweat-drenched sheets. He twisted, coughed, squealed and howled. When he had the air, he begged.
"Aragorn! AHHHHHHHHHHH--ay! Please!!! P-p-plleeeasseee! Sttahhpp!"
Aragorn was thrilled. It was a charge to have Legolas so helpless. To have him weakened to the state of begging. Then he felt oddly sick at the thought of enjoying the sight of his lover's torture. Surely this was the ultimate torture for the elf. And yet....he wanted to show Legolas how it felt. He needed to understand. He needed to make his point.
He slowed his tickling gradually until he only dragged his fingertips lazily through the underarms in slow, teasing passes. Still, it was enough to keep Legolas breathlessly giggling and disoriented.
"Answer me now, Legolas. Why do you hate this so?"
"B-b-b-because.........." he managed between giggles, "itt t-t-ticklles!"
"Wrong."
"Aragorn please!!" the elf begged.
"Wrong again." Aragorn continued his teasing strokes through the elf's most ticklish spots. Up and down.
Legolas had stopped fighting several minutes ago and lay almost perfectly still, giggling and desperate. Confusion began to clear in his head and he finally managed.
"B-b-b-b-b-because I can't stand it!"
Up and down.
"B--b-because I can't think! PLEASE!" Up and down.
"You are close Legolas." Aragorn said evenly. "Why does that distress you? How do you feel?"
Up and down.
"Please! I can't - ay!! It's torture! I feel.....Please Arargon!! I'm helpless!!!!"
It stopped.
Aragorn looked at Legolas square in the face. Their eyes locked in grave understanding. "Exactly." Aragorn said purposefully.
"And that is how I feel every time I see you and Borormir together. Don't think that I haven't noticed. The way you look at him...." Aragorn was babbling. Heated, angery babble.
Legolas had been panting until then but now he was silent and shocked.
"Aragorn...." he breathed. Now he understood.
"I cannot make you stay with me Legolas." Aragorn continued. "I see how he looks at you. How they all look at you. When you enter the banquet hall, or we are on a hunt... Their eyes. Your eyes... To think that I once believed that I could keep you. That you could love -" He was cut off.
"Aragorn you are a fiend and a fool." Legolas said gravely. Aragorn blinked and stared wonderingly into the elf's eyes.
"I stay with you because it is what I choose. True, Borormir and I had feelings for one another once. Feelings we were foolish to act on. Aragorn, that was not love. That was not what you and I share. That was fleeting. Weakness! The fickle feelings of one lustful man for a foolish elf. I am yours. Do not doubt that my love. My King." Then he paused and repeated with an intense meaningful gaze, "I am yours."
Aragorn's eyes filled with tears. What a fool he had been!
Forgetting about the bound state of his lover he flung himself onto him and proceeded to shower the exhausted elf with kisses. Once unbound, the two shared in their bedchamber a night that neither would ever forget. One filled with love and promise. But in the shadows at the far corner of the room, another set of eyes watched the two. From the crack in the secret panel, Borormir made some secret promises of his own. First and foremost, "Foolish and lustful? Is that the way of it now my Elven prince? Well, now thanks to your sweet Aragorn, I think it is now time for me to explore your apparent weakness." Borormir closed the panel and stalked down the corridor to his own chamber to prepare. "Who would have thought that the lightest tickling touch could bring an elf to his knees?"
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