Title: To Love Wisely or Well?
Author: Doriath email: doriath@earthling.net
Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas/Arwen
Rating: R
Summary: When Aragorn finds out that Legolas is fading and likely to die from
grief he knows desperate measures are required.
Disclaimer: I don't own them – wish I did!
Authors Note: Feedback would be nice!


Legolas followed the small, dark-haired maidservant along the halls of the King
and Queen's private apartments.  She reached a door at the end of a shadowy
hallway and stood to one side allowing him to enter.  He stepped with reluctance
into the small dimly lit chamber, hearing the door close behind him.  

This was too difficult. He should have made an excuse and not come.  He had been
absent for too long.

As he had never been in this particular room before, he looked around, wishing
to distract himself and reduce his inner turmoil.  Rich tapestries covered the
walls, hiding the stark grey stone; the only window was closed and covered
against the chill evening air.  

He moved further into the room, crossing to warm himself at the fireplace where
logs burned brightly. The light from the fire added to the illumination from
candles, placed at intervals on the polished wooden table.  When he saw that the
table was set for only three people Legolas felt the first pangs of alarm. 
Three places. He would be dining alone with the Aragorn and Arwen.  How would he
prevent them from discerning his misery at being in Gondor again?  At least, in
a hall filled with people, there would be others claiming the attention of the
King and he could slip into the background, content to admire from afar and
grieve in solitude for what he had relinquished.

Grieve… Yes, he admitted, that was what he had been doing since that midsummer's
eve, three years ago, when he and Aragorn had finally had the courage to
confront the future and speak of the King's forthcoming marriage.

The conversation hadn't gone well. Aragorn had tried to dissuade him but Legolas
had made up his mind to leave. They could not continue to be together, the
nobles of the kingdom would not understand the bond between them.  He refused to
undermine Aragorn's rule with his presence. 

Leaving had been the hardest thing he had ever had to do, but the Valar had
granted him the strength to hold to his vow and he had fled as soon as it was
seemly, citing his promised trip with Gimli as his excuse to the remaining
members of the fellowship.  He had let Aragorn explain the reason for his rapid
departure to Arwen.  Apart from brief, necessary visits, he had stayed away from
Minas Tirith.  Before tonight, he hadn't seen Aragorn in almost a year.

His skin glowing from the warmth of the fire, Legolas moved away.  To stop his
mind from dwelling on the waves of nervousness assailing his stomach he moved
nearer to the tapestry, looking more closely at the fine embroidery.  All his
restraint was for naught when he made out the scenes depicted within the wall
hanging.  Figures resembling either men or elves, male and female, were taking
part in various acts of a highly sexual nature in a forest setting.  The colours
were bold and vibrant and the flickering of the firelight made them seem as
though they had taken on a life of their own.  

Shocked at first but then becoming aroused by the lewd exhibit, he almost missed
the faint click of the door opening. Someone entered the room.  He did not have
to look to know the identity of the new arrival; the sound of those footfalls
was something he would remember for the rest of his immortal life.

Legolas couldn't control the tingle of pleasure that washed over him when his
eyes met those of his King.  Time had treated Aragorn kindly; the dark hair was
unchanged with no more grey.  As ever, dark stubble clung to his face and his
blue-grey eyes were still those of the man with whom he had fallen in love and
who had loved him in return.  He would have had to be blind to miss the
tenderness and affection glowing in the King's eyes. 

Since their last meeting he had convinced himself that he had made the right
decision, that his happiness could not be found in Minas Tirith. But now… all
the feelings he believed he had successfully suppressed came rushing back and he
found himself lacking the words to greet his former lover. 

He took a deep breath and forced his face to remain impassive when Aragorn came
close and clasped his arm in greeting. 

"Legolas, mellon nin, mae govannen."

"Sire."  His mouth felt dry and he couldn't say another word.

"So formal, Legolas." Aragorn tilted his head to one side, an expression of
concern crossing his features.  "You look full of care, my friend."

He thought he could hear a note of longing in Aragorn's voice.  Or was that his
wishful thinking? What was he trying to prove to himself?  In order not to soil
Aragorn by association he had ended their affair but now he was looking to find
signs that the mortal was suffering as greatly as he.  "I… "  He struggled to
find words that would not make matters any worse.

Aragorn crossed to a small side table and busied himself with glasses and a
decanter. "Would you like some wine?"

Legolas recognised and admired the skilful way the man was attempting to lighten
the tension, "Yes, please." Years as an envoy for his father's kingdom had honed
similar talents in Legolas. He could do this too. "How is Arwen?"

"She is well.  We have some news to share with you later."

Aragorn held out a crystal goblet to him and Legolas walked over to take it. 
The slight touch of their hands as the glass was passed over was nearly his
undoing. A wave of longing swept over him until his pride was the only thing
that stopped him from grasping the man's hand and confessing that he had made a
terrible mistake.  Instead he clenched his fist around the fine crystal, as a
drowning man would clutch at a thrown lifeline. He took a large gulp of the
liquid, swallowing almost without tasting.

"I chose the wine because I knew you would like it.  Your father sent some to us
a few months ago." 

Legolas licked suddenly dry lips and he took another large mouthful of the wine,
recognising the taste. Aragorn's voice was soft and Legolas remembered other
times when this same vintage and that tone were used on him with naught but
seduction in mind. "My father…?"  Legolas started and then stopped, running the
conversation of the past few seconds over in his mind until the comment made
sense.  "I am surprised he would part with any of the Dorwinion.  He is not
renowned for his generosity towards men."

Smiling, Aragorn refilled his goblet, but before the man could answer, the door
opened again and Arwen entered the room.  Her dark hair fell loosely down her
back, contrasting with her deep red gown. Her skin was perfection, glowing in
the candlelight.  When she smiled in greeting it was as though a hand clasped
his heart. She was a fitting wife for Aragorn, the most beautiful female he had
ever seen.  His resolve was strengthened; he had been right to give Aragorn up
for her sake and the sake of the kingdom.

"Legolas!  I am so pleased you came.  We have missed you greatly." She came and
stood before him, placing her hand against his cheek for a short time.  He
stepped back as though stung, her touch had seemed to burn his skin, bringing a
flush to his cheeks and heat to the rest of his body.  Elbereth! She was his
friend's wife and he desired her.  He must not permit himself to feel like this!

Arwen held his gaze and he didn't miss the fleeting look of insight in her eyes
– but then he never seemed to be able to hide his feelings from Arwen – another
reason why he had left the city so quickly after the wedding.

Once more in control of his emotions, he said, "As I have missed you, my lady. 
But my travels have been fascinating, even though I have only had a dwarf for
company."  He smiled as he said it, he knew these two would not misunderstand
his words or the esteem in which he held Gimli.

Aragorn came closer and handed a glass of wine to Arwen, "Thank you, love.”
Legolas could hear the affection in her voice and suddenly craved to have that
warmth directed at him.  A pang of jealousy overtook him and he turned once more
towards the tapestry, pretending a rapt interest in the work until his feelings
were once more under control.

Arwen spoke, "Legolas?"  

He turned reluctantly to face her.

"You have travelled far and look weary, I'll arrange for us to dine at once and
you can share all your adventures with us."

"As you wish."  Legolas vowed that he would keep his mind focused; he would not
let either of the royal couple see how lost and heartsick he truly felt.

~~~~~~

Several hours later, Legolas sat back in his chair, a full glass of wine in his
hand.  He felt much better.  The meal had been excellent with several dishes
that were his particular favourites.  Aragorn must have selected those
especially and the thoughtfulness pleased him.  Arwen had insisted on making him
taste some of everything, bullying unmercifully when he tried to refuse, so he
had eaten more this evening than he had for a very long time.

The news Aragorn had alluded to earlier had been that Arwen was carrying his
child – an heir for Gondor.  In celebration, wine had flowed freely and
Legolas's glass was never allowed to become empty.  The more lucid part of his
mind wondered if it was the wine he had consumed that made him feel so
comfortable or just that he had come to terms at being this close, once more, to
his deepest desire.  A desire that was returned.  Aragorn couldn't hide it from
him.  He'd seen the man's glances, hot and full of hunger, during the meal. It
was a game they had played in the past, flirting in plain sight with secret
looks and small touches.  

As he studied Aragorn in the flickering candlelight, watching the man's hands
and the way they stroked the stem of his wine glass, Legolas felt his breath
catch in his throat as he remembered how those same strong hands had once held
and pleasured him.

If he were truthful, he would admit that the sexual tension in the room excited
him.  Arwen wasn't a fool; she would sense both of their growing need.  He was
playing with fire – he knew it – but for once he didn't care.

Arwen stood glancing at her husband. The look must have signified something
because Aragorn smiled slightly, but its meaning escaped Legolas, protected in
his wine induced cocoon.  She said, "I have some duties to attend to now, so I
will leave you."  Without waiting for a response she left the room, closing the
door behind her.

Legolas watched her go, the knowledge that he was now alone with Aragorn barely
ruffled the aura of tranquilly that had settled around him. The scrape of
Aragorn's chair, as he moved it closer, startled him out of his reverie. 
Legolas watched, unable to move, as the man laid his hand over his own.  His
mind told him he should go before his control slipped and he embarrassed them
both.

He wanted to stand but his body wouldn't listen.  Why can't I move? Is it that I
really don't want to?  The thoughts spun idly through his mind, while he
marvelled at his lack of apprehension.  Perhaps if his companion were someone
else he would be afraid.  He would never know fear while Aragorn was beside him;
they had fought together for too many years not to trust each other implicitly.  

Gathering his scattered wits, Legolas put down his glass, pleased when he didn't
misjudge the height of the table.  Pulling his hand from beneath Aragorn's he
placed both palms against the wooden surface and pushed himself into a standing
position.  Much better!  He could control his body after all.

"Legolas?"  

He swallowed, "I'm fine, Aragorn.  But I think I should leave now." He tried to
turn away.

The man stood quickly, his sure movements reminding Legolas of a cat.

"Where will you go?" His voice was a low purr and the sound curled around
Legolas' spine sending a shudder of pleasure through him.

Legolas had to think hard for an answer though it wasn't a difficult question,
"My chamber.  I need to lie down, I think."  Strange though, wine hadn't got the
better of him since he was an elfling.

He felt an arm slip around his waist and a firm thigh and hip press against him. 
His arm was lifted and rested over Aragorn's shoulder. "There is no need.  We
have prepared a room for you here.  You are like family to Arwen and me, you
know that."

His resistance fading as his desire soared, he allowed himself to be led across
the room and through a small wooden door he had seen before dinner. He couldn't
stop the gasp of surprise when they stepped over the threshold. It was like an
indoor garden.  Green plants covered most of one wall, their pots standing
haphazardly alongside shutters that he guessed led out onto a balcony.  Candles
lit a large bed, covered in fine linens that dominated the room.  As he glanced
around he saw his pack and bow and quiver resting on a table, "My things?"

"Yes, we had them brought here during dinner.  This room is next to ours and we
wanted you close by." Aragorn flicked a hand at the greenery, "We know you are
discomforted by stone walls so we had these plants moved here…"

"Why?"  He turned, using Aragorn's shoulder to support himself, needing to see
the man's face when he answered. He couldn't stop himself from asking the
question.  He had to know if Aragorn still cared for him.  He desired him, that
much he had seen earlier, but did he still care? He had to see the truth in his
eyes.

"We are worried about you."  Aragorn reached out and let his fingers linger on
Legolas' face for a moment. 

It was all he could do to stifle the groan that rose in his throat.  "Worried
about me?  Why?" His voice was cracked and broken.

"Because I can see your grief and I am frightened that I may lose you."

"I'm an elf, we are immortal."

"Yes you are.  But you can still die."  Legolas heard incredible sadness in the
man's voice.  "Look at yourself," he continued, "You are fading.  Arwen and I
noticed the change in you on your last visit and Gimli has confirmed our fears. 
Now it is even more evident, your breaking heart is killing you."

Legolas gave a sad smile and looked away, resigned now to revealing how much his
decision would cost them both.  "What else can I do, melethron? I cannot betray
Arwen." 

Then fingers were under his chin, turning his head, directing his gaze back to
Aragorn's.  The man moved his hands to either side of Legolas' head. "Listen to
me and believe me.  I have never lied to you and I do not begin now.  Arwen has
known about us for some time.  I wanted to be honest with her and tried to talk
before our wedding but I did not need to say anything.  She had seen it for
herself."

Legolas shook his head and tried to back away, "Nay!  Do not tell me this.  I
cannot bear to know how much I have hurt her."

Then strong arms were around him, holding him close.  So close that he could not
breathe. "No, wait, Legolas, you must listen.  Arwen understands because she
loves you too. We could not bear to lose you."  

The kiss when it came was gentle with merely a flicker of a tongue against his
lips. Legolas' resistance crumbled; tonight he would forget about the rest of
Arda and concern himself only with his own wishes and desires. When Aragorn's
tongue prodded at his lips again he opened his mouth in acceptance and blatant
invitation.

Pulling the man closer, Legolas slid his hands down over firm muscles and then
lower to the curve of his buttocks.  The softness of Aragorn’s long velvet tunic
reinforced his fantasy that the King was nothing less than a powerful cat.  The
fabric moved under his hands like fur, flooding his mind with memories of a bed
piled high with animal pelts, one winter’s night in Imladris. It had been their
first night together and, once their passion was sated, they had slept entwined
naked in each other's arms warm under the soft furs.

Responding to the kiss, Legolas deepened it, using his tongue to explore the
warm familiar cavern of Aragorn's mouth.  He hummed with the pleasure of the
moment and felt Aragorn's lips curve into a smile, breaking the kiss.

"Why have you stopped?"  Legolas murmured.  His lover couldn't be having second
thoughts now – could he?  He was still smiling. 

"I have missed your sounds of pleasure, melathron-nin." 

Legolas sighed, "As I have hungered for your touch." He stared into the lust
darkened blue grey eyes for a long time, finding no doubt to mar the moment.

"Will you stay with me this night?"

Legolas nodded, "You should know you need not ask.  My heart and soul are yours.
That has never changed."  The smile that transfigured the man's face, made him
even more beautiful.

They kissed again and Legolas inhaled the familiar scent. It reminded him of
horses and leather.  Standing still, his body feeling incredibly heavy, Legolas
allowed Aragorn to remove his clothes and push him down onto the bed.  He waited
passively, letting his eyes wander over the familiar landscape of Aragorn's
body, while the man shed his own clothes. Finally, he lay down beside him,
resting a hand on Legolas' hip, brushing his calloused hand against the skin
there.

"I need you."  Legolas demanded, curling his arms behind Aragorn's back and
pulling him closer.  

He saw the man smile, teasing, "You wish this?"

"Always."

~~~~~~

Legolas woke to the sound of logs shifting in the fireplace.  Slightly surprised
that his eyes were closed, he waited for a few moments, summoning the strength
to open them. His senses felt very dull but he did not let it concern him
unduly. Perhaps he had drunk more wine than he realised…

He sighed with pleasure, feeling complete for the first time in many months. 
Their lovemaking had been by turn fiercely passionate and softly tender. He
stretched an arm across the rumpled sheet, still scented with the oil they had
used, searching for his lover's comforting warmth.

The unexpected emptiness beside him caused him to finally pay more attention to
his surroundings and it was then that he heard the soft voices. He easily
recognised Aragorn's deep tone and the other soft lilting voice was soon
identified as Arwen's. 

"He still sleeps?"  That was Arwen. Comfortable and sated, he feigned sleep and
listened.

"Yes, he drank more wine and received more of the bellas than I anticipated.  He
may have a sore head in the morning but there will be no other effects.  It’s
good that bellas will only affect full elves, I would never put anything in the
wine that, even might, endanger you or our child."

"Will he understand why we schemed in this fashion?"

"I pray so.  I did not wish to drug him but I could not stand to lose him to his
grief."

"Nor I."

His hearing was still uncertain so Legolas risked opening one eye a fraction.
They were standing a small distance away in front of the fireplace, Aragorn was
naked, his skin tinted golden by the flickering firelight.  Arwen was wearing a
light sleeping robe, her long dark hair unbound and hanging loose around her
shoulders.  Legolas opened his eyes wider when he realised that the firelight
behind Arwen had made her robe almost transparent.  The curve of her breasts,
the roundness of her hips and the darker shadow at her groin were all clearly
visible to him.  He felt himself responding to the lovely vision.

Aragorn leaned forward and kissed her, "Thank you, love."

She shook her head, "Nay, do not thank me.  You know I have loved him for many
years and would that he and I were closer.  I do not think he has ever had
feelings for me other than those of a brother."

His heart began to pound and he was sure the couple in the room must hear it;
the sounds were so loud in his ears.  Arwen had feelings for him?  Why hadn't he
noticed? Had his love for Aragorn blinded him?  The stirring of desire that he
had felt for her last night had surprised him but it hadn't been the first time
he had admired her beauty.

"I think he does have feelings for you, love. He would never show it though,
because he would feel that he was betraying my trust. Legolas' sense of honour
is legendary – you know this.  Why else did he leave us as soon after the
wedding as was possible?"

He stirred restlessly on the bed, rolling to his side, his thoughts in turmoil. 

He saw them look in his direction and he closed his eyes, hoping to continue to
feign sleep.  He did not want to be confronted by Arwen now while he was covered
only by the sheets soiled by his recent coupling with her husband.  

He heard Aragorn's voice, "I think he is waking."

"Good."

Footsteps approached and he felt a much lighter form than Aragorn's sit on the
edge of the bed facing him.  At the same time a heavier weight pushed down on
the mattress behind him and he sensed rather than felt Aragorn's familiar
presence.

Light touches on his face and the points of his ears convinced him that he could
not maintain the fiction of sleeping any longer.  He knew he had to pretend
surprise at Arwen's proximity but he was sure that his embarrassment would be
plain for her to see without any need for him to dissemble.  

"Legolas?"  Arwen's voice was low and gentle and he found it and the way her
breath brushed lightly over his ear, remarkably seductive.  

He allowed his eyelids to open slowly and then sat bolt upright as though he
just became aware of her. "Arwen!  What are you doing here!"  The sheet had slid
down to his waist and he knew she would see the marks of Aragorn's passion on
his neck and chest.  Though she would already have seen similar bruises on her
husband's flesh.

"Do not worry, love."  Arwen's low breathy murmur set lust pooling in his belly
once again.

Aragorn's hand came to rest on his shoulder and he spoke with reassurance, "It's
all right, Legolas.  Be still.  I am correct in my thinking that the gender of
your partner makes no difference, am I not?"  

He looked round at the man and saw his calming smile, thought the purpose of the
question was not yet clear to him. "You know this.  We have spoken before on
this subject."

"Then all is well."  

Turning back to Arwen, he could not look upon her face so he studied his hands
where they rested on the sheet.  

She spoke again using the same sultry tone, "All is well, my love.  I love
Aragorn, how can I not understand your feelings for him?"  She leaned forward
and caught his glance. He tilted his head up to look at her only to be
captivated by her eyes.  It seemed as though she examined his very soul but at
the same time she let him see deep into her own heart. Her gaze at once
confirming her feelings for him and her acceptance of the bond he and Aragorn
shared.

He had to try to put his thoughts into words but his mind was still moving as
sluggishly as a river at the height of summer.  Didn't they say something about
drugging him with the wine?  Was that why he let himself accede to Aragorn's
advances last night?  Or did he just grow tired of denial? "But…"  

Arwen said, "Do not speak of it now.  This night is the time for deeds not
words.  If we must, we will talk in the morning."

He felt Aragorn's hand slide slowly down and rest alongside his hip, his fingers
caressing the bones just beneath the surface of his skin.  At the same time,
Legolas felt kisses upon his shoulder.  Legolas gasped, his eyes flickered shut
again and he let his head fall back against Aragorn's chest.  He sensed Arwen
move closer and then she planted her mouth firmly on his, her tongue slipping
into his opened mouth. At this moment he could not conceive of anything more
pleasurable.

Arwen's hands came up to either side of his face her fingers entwining in the
braids. She held him still as she deepened the kiss and Aragorn's hand on his
hip slipped lower.  Sitting trapped between them, Legolas couldn't stop himself
from bucking against the rough hand that curled around his shaft, forcing
himself against Aragorn's chest until they were skin against skin down the
entire length of his back.  Arwen moved away and he opened his eyes, intending
to protest the loss of her touch, but stopped when he saw her turn and begin to
slip off her robe.

Did this mean that they were all…?  The three of them…?  

His expression must have told his thoughts because he heard Arwen laugh and say,
"I don't think he believes us, love."  

Aragorn lifted his lips from his shoulder, "I think you need to provide some
further proof." Arwen leaned forward and put her arms around his neck, moving
closer to him.  Legolas groaned when her breasts brushed against his chest – the
touch was soft but so arousing.  The colour of her skin reminded him of light
from the star for which she had been named.  Truly Undómiel was an apt name for
one of her grace and beauty. Overwhelming lust gave him the courage to rest his
hands on Arwen's waist and pull her closer.  

Aragorn whispered in his ear, "She wants you, Legolas."

"Arwen?” He looked her full in the face and asked, “You are certain about this?"
He had to hear it from her lips.

"Yes, I am sure.  I have waited long for this night."

Aware of Aragorn's gaze and to repay the man's earlier teasing, he took his
time, exploring Arwen's body, watching her reactions to discover what she liked. 
It was easy to make her moan with desire.  Her sounds of pleasure had a similar
affect on her husband and Legolas soon felt Aragorn's member hardening against
his lower back.

Aragorn whispered in his ear, "Lie on your side, melethron." 

He turned to look at the man, thoughts of lust coiling in his belly,  "You would
have me while I take her?"

Aragorn nodded, "Unless you would prefer not. It is what you desire this night
that is important."

Legolas nodded excited beyond measure at the prospect, "I wish it."

"Now, please!  Take me now, Legolas!"  Arwen moaned as she writhed beneath his
hands.

Then his nostrils were filled with the sweet scent of the oil he and Aragorn had
used earlier and he felt Aragorn's fingers thrusting inside him, readying him.
He felt no pain at the invasion as Aragorn took possession of his body, pushing
deep within him.  Soft moans left his lips as Aragorn's thrust touched the
hidden spot deep inside him. 

Before he could find the presence of mind to direct her, Arwen moved closer and,
resting her upper leg up over his hip her hand grasped his shaft and guided it
towards her opening.  Effortlessly, she slid onto him and he felt himself
surrounded by her slick, heady warmth.

Legolas moved his hips, synchronising his movements with Aragorn's, pushing
backwards to meet him and then pushing forward into Arwen. He was rapidly unable
to frame a coherent thought; there was nothing but sensation and need.  Every
movement was exquisite agony, with Aragorn's firm body behind him and Arwen's
soft breasts pressed against his chest.  

Ai Elbereth!  Was it also possible for one of the firstborn to die from a
surfeit of pleasure? 

Their pace quickened, their synchronisation becoming ragged as they all neared
the peak. Somehow, they all came together, filling the chamber with their moans
and cries.  

As they parted, Legolas rolled onto his side, pulling Arwen to lie in front of
him and feeling Aragorn curled up against his back.  His heart felt lighter and
he was content to lay there sated.  

Aragorn lifted his head and peered over Legolas' body to Arwen, "How do you
feel, love?"

"Well, watching the two of you together was breathtaking but being part of it
was much better."

Legolas smiled. When he came for dinner events such as those that had taken
place hadn't figured in his consciousness.  He could not have imagined feeling
so wonderful again.  He would have to discuss Aragorn drugging him, but in the
scale of things that did not really matter. 

Now he truly believed that Arwen did not begrudge the love he and Aragorn
shared.  They could continue to be together.  They could be discreet, but no
longer would he be consumed with grief by the awful prospect of spending the
coming years alone.  

One day he would be alone but until that time, he would file away all the
memories – and those yet to be experienced – as something to treasure.

--