Title: Betrothed, Bothered and Bewildered
Author: Claire. Corliamat@aol.com
Pairing(s): Aragorn/Legolas
Rating: Overall, NC-17, although the first chapter is quite tame
Summary: Aragorn and Legolas meet whilst both are traveling to 
'Lorien in order to escape arranged marriages.
Disclaimer: I am SO sorry Mr.Tolkien, please don't haunt me.
Authors Note : This is an AU fic. Aragorn's father is alive and well. 
Some comedy element. A WIP.

Chapter one
-----------------

"No father! Absolutely not!"

Legolas winced as his father rose from his chair in one fluid 
movement. The growl emanating from the king of Mirkwood was 
such in its fierceness, that Legolas was pretty sure it had begun its 
journey from the very depths of Mordor itself.

"You will do as I say!", Thranduil boomed, towering over his son, 
sending the fear of Sauron into him. Legolas looked up at his 
father's stern, and incredibly red, features, and gulped audibly. 
Straightening his shoulders, he took a step back, locking eyes with 
Thranduil.

"No." His denial was voiced almost in a whisper.

Thranduil gritted his teeth. Balling his hands into fists either side of 
him, he turned his back on his infuriating son in order to collect 
himself.

He was dragged out of his thoughts, mostly centering on the moral 
aspects of forcing his youngest child into having a frontal lobotomy, 
by the long, shuddering sigh from behind him.

"Father, I do not wish to marry one whom I do not love.", Legolas', 
almost pleading, voice was soft, hoping against hope to reason with 
his father. So far all previous attempts had ended with a slanging 
match, and/or the threat to throw Legolas off of a very high balcony 
in the fond hope he'd land on his head and have some semblance 
of sense knocked into him.

Thranduil rolled his eyes and turned to face his son. "Legolas, we 
are royalty, we have certain........obligations. Your brother did not 
love Coria when he married her. But he did so without question, 
because he knew it was for the good of Mirkwood." Legolas 
snorted.

"And do tell me, is it the same circumstances with Kalpa? Are you 
telling me that we are in so desperate a situation, we can improve 
our social standing by associating ourselves with a family who had 
the lack of good grace to name their only daughter after a 
bucket?!!"

Legolas' voice had risen to a crescendo, hands on his hips, deep 
sapphire eyes glaring with fire at his father.

"Legolas! It is certainly not good grace to insult the family of your 
intended in such a fashion! Besides.......the circumstances of her 
birth deemed it a ........fitting name." Thranduil cleared his throat as 
his son looked at him quizzically. With an audible sigh, he 
continued. "Lomenilel went into labour rather unexpectedly while 
she was on stable duty.....her daughter kind of.....landed........"

Legolas removed one of the hands on his hips and moved it up to 
massage the bridge of his nose with forefinger and thumb, 
scrunching his eyes tightly shut, in an effort to alleviate his growing 
headache.

Coming to the sudden realization that he was in no way helping 
matters at all, Thranduil decided to try a different approach at 
reason. "Love may not be the reason you wed, but you have an 
eternity together......." Legolas opened one eye and fixedly stared at 
his father. ".........in which to discover more of each other. Love will 
come. Your mother and I were not in love when we married, but we 
fell in love eventually."

"Father, I wish to fall in love *before* I marry. It is good fortune you 
and mother were compatible, but what if Kalpa and I are not? We 
would be subjected to an eternity of misery........what if she nags 
like a clucking chicken?"

"Elves do not nag!"

" What if she.........what if she snores?"

Thranduil ran his hands over his face in exasperation. 
"Legolas......elves do not snore!"

The blond prince raised a skeptical eyebrow at his father. Thranduil 
looked away from his son, clearing his throat. "It is not my fault", he 
mumbled, "I have an elongated uvula.........it is very rare in elves."

The golden king cleared his throat once more, lifting his chin 
slightly. "In any case, it didn't seem to ever bother your mother."

"Is that why she used to climb into bed with us every night 
muttering curses and asking the Valar to strike her with sudden 
deafness?"

Thranduil glared at his son.

Legolas sighed and slumped his shoulders. "Father, please, do not 
make me do this."

Thranduil turned from his son and walked over to the window of his 
study.

For long moments there was silence.

Legolas shifted slightly, desperate for his father to say something, 
and yet, dreading whatever words would pour forth from the king of 
Mirkwood's mouth.

                                               ------------

Rivendell:

"Oh! Now *that* was a good one!", Elladan grinned, as, once again, 
Aragorn managed to trip Elrohir and send him sprawling to the 
ground, flinging his sword into the bushes.

Elrohir rose to his knees and scowled at his twin. "Just whose side 
are you on?"

"I do not yet know dear brother...", Elladan winked, "...ask me once 
we determine on the winner."

Elrohir gracefully stood, and, quite ungracefully, pouted at his 
younger twin.

"I'll remember this when it is your turn to spar with him." "My dear 
brother...", Aragorn grinned, placing his hand on Elrohir's shoulder, 
"...how many more times are you going to fall for the 'I need the 
practice' line?"

Elladan tried unsuccessfully to stifle his giggles by clamping a hand 
over his mouth. Unfortunately, this only added some rather 
undignified snorting to his mirth, which in turn infected Elrohir, who 
was finding it tremendously difficult to keep up the 'wounded' act.

As the three gave into peals of laughter, mostly directed at the 
rather unfortunate snorting that Elladan was now finding impossible 
to contain, Lord Elrond made his way to the part of the gardens 
they were in. His face was dark with concern, a roll of parchment 
held tightly in his left hand.

The raven-haired lord couldn't help but smile at the scene before 
him as he approached the three figures. His merriment quickly 
faded however, as the rustle of the parchment served to remind him 
of the news he was to convey to his foster son.

All three turned, wiping tears from their eyes, as they heard their 
father approach. Aragorn immediately became concerned at the 
look of worry on Elrond's face.

"Father, what is wrong?", Aragorn asked, as Elrond stopped in front 
of him.

"Estel, I........", Elrond turned, frowning, to Elladan who had failed in 
his desperate attempts to stifle a final escapee snort.

Aragorn and Elrohir immediately turned their faces toward the 
ground, lost in private battles to quash their own giggles.

"My apologies father.....", Elladan cleared his 
throat....."um........adenoids."

Elrond raised an eyebrow as his attention was turned to Elrohir who 
had voiced an involuntary squeak at his brother's excuse.

Aragorn chanced turning his back on the, mercifully, distracted 
elven lord. His shoulders shaking in barely controlled silent mirth.

The lord of Imladris studied his twin sons carefully, before returning 
his attention  to Aragorn, who was now facing him, cheeks sucked 
in, momentarily winning his battle of wills.

"Estel...", Elrond sighed, " I am afraid I am the bearer of bad news. 
Ealnoth has returned from your father's castle in Minas Tirith. It 
seems..............it seems your father has decided that you should 
wed and take your place officially as the crown prince of Gondor."

Aragorn's face fell, any mirth left in him dissolved completely at that 
moment.

"I'm sorry my son", Elrond offered, placing his hand against 
Aragorn's cheek.

Elrohir and Elladan moved forward, flanking their foster brother, 
each sympathetically placing a hand on his shoulders.

Aragorn straightened, a look of resolve adorned his features as he 
ran his hands through his shaggy mane, and met his foster father's 
gaze.

"Do not worry atar...", he smiled warmly at a very concerned Elrond, 
".....I knew this day would come. I had hoped to spend more time 
amongst the elves, and my elven family. But, I have always known 
of my true lineage, and I must accept the duty and obligations my 
title carries." Aragorn's hopes of soothing Elrond's worries were 
dashed whole-heartedly as the elf turned from him, an expression 
lingering between concern and abject horror colouring his features.

"Estel. Ealnoth....", Elrond sighed and turned once again to his 
foster son. ".....Ealnoth 'acquired' this information 
somewhat.......covertly. My reason for imparting this knowledge to 
you, before Arathorn has a chance to dispatch a messenger and 
armed escort, is a hope to persuade you to leave. To avert this 
course of action. I believe it is for your own good. I know for a fact 
that 'Lorien would welcome your help on it's northern borders to 
assist in the orc troubles they are currently experiencing. I could 
simply say that you left from a call of duty as your role as ranger 
demands."

Aragorn frowned at his foster father, confusion overtaking his 
senses.

"I do not understand. I thought that you would be behind my father 
on this."

"My dear Estel. I have watched you grow from a confused and 
frightened infant, to one of the most skilled fighters, rangers and 
healers I have ever come across. Your spirit is strong, your 
intelligence and kindness unique." Elrond smiled at the scarlet flush 
creeping over his foster son's features.

"Father!", Aragorn whined.

"Simply put, I do not agree with your sire in this matter. Yes, you 
are of age, and you will make a fine prince, and a skilled leader. 
But, I feel you are destined for greater things at this point in your 
life." Elrond paused, looked at the roll of parchment in his hand, 
then turned a guilty gaze to Aragorn. "Also...........far be it for me to 
judge on so shallow a subject but........", another deep sigh. 
"Ealnoth, as you know, is our finest artist. He has adorned the walls 
of Rivendell with the most startlingly accurate portraits of my family 
for generations." Elrond once again studied the roll of parchment in 
his hand. "He has made a sketch of your........chosen intended."

Aragorn took the proffered parchment from his foster father, and 
began to unroll it. "Atar, you of all people should know that beauty 
is only skin d.............oh!"

Elrond winced as his foster son stared, open-mouthed, at the 
sketch before him.

"Elbereth!", came the whispered cries of Elladan and Elrohir. Both, 
in unison, brought up a hand to cover their mouths. Aragorn 
opened is mouth several times in an attempt to speak. Each time 
only managing a barely audible croak.

"I'll get my cloak", he whispered shakily, thrusting the open 
parchment into Lord Elrond's hands before departing, hurriedly, 
towards the house.

Elrond sighed in relief, as he glanced at the parchment. Elladan 
and Elrohir moved to his side, flanking him as they had done 
Aragorn. All three frowned as they studied the sketch before them.

"Perhaps...", Elladan ventured, ".....it is the wrong way up."

This earned him an annoyed elbow in the ribs from his father.

Elrond turned his gaze back to the picture, stared at it thoughtfully, 
then turned it upside-down. All three raised their eyebrows, gasping 
silently.


Chapter2:


The sun shone brightly down on the forest, illuminating the golden-
haired elf strolling silently through the trees. His sullen thoughts and 
spirits calmed slightly by the soothing sounds of the ever-flowing 
Anduin.

He wore a green shirt, brown leather tunic and leggings, finished off 
with soft knee-high boots. His golden hair whipped lightly around 
the soft, yet well-defined, features of his face. He had left his hair 
unbraided, enjoying the feeling of freedom it gave him as his golden 
locks flowed unerringly down his back and over his shoulders. The 
morning rays of light filtering through the trees caused him to glow 
with an ethereal essence. Although his shoulders were straight, 
stance set tall, Legolas had his head bowed slightly. His sapphire 
eyes betrayed a turmoil of deep thought and sadness as he 
journeyed.

His father had made a decision. If Legolas refused to marry, then 
he was to be banished. He would not be allowed to return to the 
district of Mirkwood until he either agreed to marry the one his 
father had chosen, or engaged himself with a person of high family 
standing and respect.

With a heavy and frustrated heart, Legolas had packed a few 
essentials for his journey, readied the weapons he would need in 
case of troubles, and set off to 'Lorien. He had always found peace 
of mind there and hoped that a stay in the calming presence of the 
lady and lord of the golden woods, would give him a chance to think 
clearly. Where he would journey afterward, he had yet to decide.

He was considered to be one of the finest and most accurate 
archers in all of middle earth. He knew that the elves of 'Lorien 
were having difficulties with groups of orcs attempting to invade 
their borders, maybe they could use his help in that aspect.

Night fell, and Legolas decided to make camp in a clearing close to 
the river. He sat high in one of the surrounding tall trees, 
consuming a light meal before resting, when the sounds of 
numerous, heavy footsteps caught his attention. Definitely 
orc.........definitely heading this way.

Legolas quickly scanned the area below him, making sure he had 
left no trace of his presence on the ground. Satisfied, he settled 
back on the tree branch. His keen hearing had detected thirty-three 
orc. Not impossible odds for an elf, but he was weary from his 
travels, and decided to err on the side of caution.

As the orcs drew nearer, seemingly heading for the river, probably 
to replenish water supplies, his ears picked up a different sound. 
This one was familiar to him, causing a cold fist to tighten around 
his heart.

He could hear the orcs struggling with something.....someone. 
Muffled elvish curses we heard emanating from the captive, who 
was clearly giving the orcs as hard a time of it as possible.

Legolas' lips curled up in a disgusted snarl at the thought of these 
hideous creatures capturing one of his own kind, probably to use as 
food on their next stop. This filled the golden archer with a renewed 
strength as he stood on the branch, and readied his bow, waiting 
for the group to enter the clearing. Using his teeth, he sliced off a 
side feather on two of his arrows and notched them.

As he expected, the clearing began to fill with the group of orcs, 
dragging their unwilling meal with them. Legolas gasped slightly at 
the sight of the prisoner. 'A man. One who speaks.......in rather 
colourful, and altogether physically impossible metaphors.....in the 
elvish tongue.' Intrigued by this tall stranger, Legolas once again 
aimed his bow. If he could surprise them and kill a few, he might be 
able to jump down and slice the captive's ropes. By the look of the 
man, he was a warrior, his black tunic, leggings and cloak 
suggested he could even be a ranger. In any case, freeing the man 
to fight with him would even the odds considerably.

Legolas let loose his arrows, which immediately split from each 
other, embedding themselves in the skulls of the two orcs holding 
the captive. All hell broke loose as Legolas fired off arrow after 
arrow, a deadly volley that ended the twisted existence of fifteen of 
the startled creatures. To the archer's relief, the captive had turned 
and quickly spotted him, using the confusion to quietly slip to the 
tree the blonde elf was positioned in.

Legolas quickly jumped down to the man. Bringing the two short 
knifes from a holster on his back, he dispensed with the prisoner's 
bonds, and handed him his own long sword. The orcs descended 
upon them rapidly, giving Legolas no time to prepare his bow, so he 
decided to wade in with his knives.

Both consumed with battle lust, Aragorn and Legolas made short 
work of the dark group, gutting, beheading and slicing any that got 
in their way. The fight was soon over, the once peaceful and serene 
clearing was now full of the bodies of the twisted creations of 
Sauron's whim.

Aragorn picked his way through the carnage, searching for his own 
sword, which he eventually found in the clutches of a dead orc near 
the riverbank. He raised his eyes at the sound of soft, elven 
footsteps approaching, and caught his breath as he finally took the 
time to properly study the one who had rescued him. The elf was 
tall, almost as tall as he, slender, his well-defined muscles showing 
through the tightness of his tunic, impossibly long, tightly muscled 
legs encased in leather leggings that seemed to emphasize every 
delicate curve. His golden hair hung loose and long around his 
shoulders, framing a face of perfectly defined features, and the 
deepest, bluest eyes the ranger had ever encountered. As his gaze 
fell to the flushed cheeks and slightly parted full, pink lips, only one 
coherent word entered the ranger's mind....

'Beautiful.'

Aragorn found himself subjected to a similar scrutinizing gaze by 
those worried, sapphire orbs.

"Are you alright?"

The soft, melodic tones of the elf's voice brought an instant, 
comforting warmth to ranger's soul.

"I am well mellonamin, thanks to you. I owe you my life." Legolas 
smiled warmly at the handsome young man and shook his head 
slightly.

"You owe me nothing good sir. It was both my duty and honour to 
fight alongside one as swift and brave as you. I am Legolas, of the 
Mirkwood realm." Legolas held out his hand in greeting, Aragorn 
took it in his, relishing the feel of the soft skin.

"It is an honour to meet you Legolas, my name is Aragorn, son of 
Arathorn."

"Are you a ranger? Forgive me, but your skills and grace in battle 
hold you apart from any man I have ever encountered."

Aragorn chuckled slightly at the look of trepidation on the beautiful 
elf's face.

"I am not offended. I am indeed a ranger. Although somewhat 
diluted, elven blood does indeed run through my veins. I was raised 
from an early age by Lord Elrond in Imladris."

A look of realisation washed over the archer's features, his warm 
smile growing to an excited grin. "Of course, you are Estel. I have 
heard of you. It is indeed a pleasure to meet you at last."

Aragorn regarded the elf with a mixture of elation and guilt. "I am 
honoured that one such as yourself should know of me. I regret, I 
have not heard talk of you during my upbringing in Rivendell."

Legolas shrugged his shoulders slightly, his smile never faltering. "It 
has been almost a millenia since my last visit to Imladris, and, I am 
afraid, I have yet to achieve anything worth mentioning outside of 
my realm."

'Surely the very fact that middle earth has been blessed and graced 
by your presence is enough reason to sing of you from the highest 
tower', Aragorn thought to himself.

                                                       ----

After the post battle clear up, Legolas and Aragorn had made their 
way to a fresh, less polluted clearing by the river. Legolas pausing 
only to say a quick prayer for the souls of the fallen.

They had built a fire, and were currently sitting together at the edge 
of the camp, Aragorn leaning his back comfortably against the trunk 
of a large tree, engaged deep in conversation, and consuming a 
meal cooked by the ranger.

".....My mother was attacked while out walking the gardens with me. 
I was merely a toddler at the time. Some of my father's guards had 
been bought off by one of the many pretenders to the throne. Men 
who were joined, albeit, distantly by my father's bloodline. They 
murdered my mother, and would have killed me too if not for the 
intervention of soldiers still loyal to my father's rule. He feared 
greatly for my safety after that, and sent me to be raised under the 
care and tuition of Lord Elrond, knowing full well that his enemies 
could do nothing to me whilst I was under the protection of elves."

A deep sadness invaded Legolas' heart as he listened intently to 
the ranger's story. "I am so sorry for your loss. I too lost my mother 
when I was very young. It is a memory and a pain never forgotten." 
They locked eyes, both smiling slightly as they sensed the empathy 
within each other.

After a few minutes, Aragorn broke the silence. "So tell me fair 
Legolas, what brings you so far from your father's realm?"

Legolas lowered his eyes from the ranger's, but not before Aragorn 
caught a brief glimpse of the intense pain and sadness his question 
had caused. He was about to voice his apology when the elf spoke, 
softly, almost a whisper. "My father wished me to marry, I refuse. 
Now, I am banished from my realm unless I either agree to the 
union, or form a lucrative bond myself."

Even through the softness of his companion's voice, Aragorn felt 
the bitterness of his words. "I am sorry to hear that my friend. To be 
forced apart from your family is a pain I share. It would seem we 
have much in common, including our reasons for heading to the 
sanctuary of 'Lorien."

Legolas looked up at the ranger, surprise colouring his pale 
features. "You are escaping from an enforced betrothal?"

Aragorn smiled at the almost ecstatic lilt in the golden elf's voice, 
coming from an understanding of keeping company with a kindred 
spirit.

"Indeed. I had resolved myself to go through with the match and 
honour my duty. Lord Elrond........well, let's say, he was very 
persuasive in his efforts to steer me to the contrary."

Legolas' brow furrowed in confusion.

"I looked upon the form of my intended. It may seem shallow, but it 
succeeded in making my mind up as to which direction I should 
turn." Aragorn chuckled softly as the blond elf raised a quizzical 
golden eyebrow. He leaned closer to Legolas, a mischievous glint 
in his eyes. "Picture an orc in a dress, and you will come close."

Legolas turned his face from the ranger, blinking several times as 
the picture formed in his head. Wincing, he pushed his plate of food 
away, his appetite having run screaming from his body at the sight 
in his mind's eye. "I shall get no sleep tonight", he whispered, his 
face still open with shock.

Aragorn laughed quietly as the archer shuddered, chasing the 
disturbing vision from his mind.

Legolas turned to smile at the ranger, but frowned as he caught site 
of a small tear in Aragorn's tunic, the dark tinge of blood obscuring 
the skin underneath. "You are wounded."

Aragorn frowned and looked down at his tunic. "Tis nothing. I can 
tend to it later."

Legolas reached his hand out, probing the wound with his fingers, 
causing a soft hiss of pain to escape from the ranger's lips. The 
blond elf looked at his companion reproachfully. "It does not sound 
like *nothing*"

Aragorn huffed loudly, scowling at the very apparent amusement 
this caused in Legolas. "Fine!...", the ranger mumbled, "...just to 
keep you from nagging at me."
Legolas' smile widened, threatening to evolve into a giggle.

The archer busied himself gathering the necessary herbs and 
bandages from his pack, while Aragorn divested himself of his 
tunic, still mumbling complaints. "I am a skilled healer. I of all 
people should be able to tell if a wound requires immediate 
treatment or otherwise."

Still smiling, Legolas turned his attention back to the ranger, having 
found the healing ointment and herbs he needed. The blonde 
archer's breath caught in his throat as he regarded the man. His 
physique was certainly pleasing to the eye. Dark skin accentuating 
lean, well defined muscle. But it was the gathering of black hair on 
the ranger's chest that fascinated the elf.

Aragorn shifted slightly. He was beginning to feel self-conscious 
under the Legols' intent gaze. "What is wrong?", he ventured, 
snapping Legolas out of his apparent daze.

"Forgive me....", Legolas whispered, his cheeks and pointed ear 
tips now glowing a rosy red with the embarrassment of being 
caught openly staring. ".....it's just, well.....I have never seen an 
unclothed human before." Legolas tentatively reached a hand 
toward his companion's chest, stopping short of touching him, he 
raised his eyes questioningly to meet Aragorn's. "May I?"

The thought of Legolas' hands on his bare skin succeeded in 
rendering the ranger temporarily mute, so he settled for a nervous 
grin and a quick nod of his head in answer. Legolas gasped softly 
as he ran his fingers through the dark hair on his friend's chest.

He had experienced limited contact with the race of men, and had 
certainly never been this close to one of the edan. The hair was 
amazing to him. He had always thought of men as being a harsh 
race, tough, battle-hardened and solid. He didn't expect the hair on 
this mans body to be so......"Maksa"*, Legolas whispered, his lips 
curling in a soft smile.

He looked up at Aragorn with concern, as he felt the ranger's body 
shiver.

"I apologise, I didn't realise you were cold.....", he said hastily, ".....I 
will tend to your wound so you can dress."

Aragorn placed his hand over the elf's, halting his retreat. "Amin 
hiraetha* Legolas..", he said softly, "I cannot help the way my body 
reacts to your touch."

Legolas breathed out a deep shuddering sigh as the ranger brought 
up his hand, tracing the archer's soft full lips, with his calloused 
fingers. "May I?", he smiled.

Legolas closed his eyes and nodded his head, finding himself in the 
same predicament as Aragorn was earlier. Their lips met in a 
deliciously sweet kiss. Both moaned as they opened their mouths, 
tongues clashing frantically as the kiss became more passionate.

Without breaking the lip contact, Aragorn snaked his arms around 
Legolas' waist and pulled him on to his lap, so the blonde elf was 
straddling him in a kneeling position. They drank deeply of each 
other, Legolas curling his hands into the ranger's jet black hair, 
pulling him in , Aragorn sliding his hands down Legolas' back, 
coming to rest by cradling the elf's backside.

Aragorn swallowed the sweet moans emanating from his lover, 
causing low growls of pleasure to form in his own throat. Their lips 
parted, both breathing heavily with desire. Legolas whimpered, 
arching his neck to give Aragorn better access to the pale, smooth 
column of throat he was now consuming.

They parted briefly to hurriedly divest themselves of needless, 
hindering clothing, Legolas returning to Aragorn's lap, renewing the 
deep, satisfying kiss. Legolas shifted back slightly, bending his 
body, his ran his tongue hungrily over the ranger's chest.

Aragorn moaned loudly as Legolas flicked his tongue rapidly over 
one of his, now fully erect, nipples, teasing the other with forefinger 
and thumb. The beautiful archer slid further down Aragorn, kissing 
and licking his muscled stomach. Legolas shifted position, so he 
was in-between Aragorn's legs. He nibbled and licked at the insides 
of the ranger's thighs, the motion causing the top of his head to 
unintentionally rub against the man's balls, nearly undoing him 
completely.

Legolas made his way back up to Aragorn's stiff, weeping cock. He 
licked the moisture off of the head, relishing the salty taste. With 
one fluid movement, he took the hot shaft deep and fully into his 
mouth, placing his hands on Aragorn's hips to steady his moaning, 
writhing lover. Legolas began to pump Aragorn's cock with his 
mouth, hollowing his cheeks, sucking hard.

"Ai! Legolas.....tampa*! Tampa!", the ranger screamed. Aragorn 
feared he would come just from the sight of the beautiful elf 
crawling back up to straddle him, smiling seductively, his deep blue 
eyes heavily lidded with passion, golden hair wild and cascading 
almost to the floor.

They joined in another fiery kiss, grinding their cocks together, 
tasting each other's breath through their steady moans and sighs.

"I want you inside of me", Legolas whispered, running his tongue 
over the curve of Aragorn's ear.

"I need to taste you first", the ranger answered breathlessly.

With that, Aragorn slid his hands down to grip Legolas' thighs, just 
under his buttocks. Legolas moaned softly, his body shivering, as 
Aragorn lifted him, suckling the elf’s nipples and stroking his index 
fingers over Legolas' balls. The archer flattened his palms on the 
tree trunk, for support, as Aragorn continued the elf's ascent. The 
ranger licked and sucked his way down Legolas' body, until his 
lover was at the right height for him to bury his face in the blonde 
elf's crotch. Legolas arched his back, whimpering loudly as Aragorn 
sucked his cock down whole, still using his fingers to tease the 
archer's scrotum and balls.

"Ai Aragorn! Yuma tampa*! Amin anta lle*!" Legolas was gritting his 
teeth, trying to stop himself from screaming his ecstasy as his lover 
sucked mercilessly at his shaft.

Aragorn groaned loudly, Legolas' passionate moans and 
exclamations of love threatening to send him over the edge. 
Legolas nearly ripped the bark from the tree he was using as 
support, when a wave of unrelenting ecstasy threatened to wash 
him away.

Aragorn drank his lover dry, as if he were the last drop of water in 
the land. The beautiful archer slid his sweat-sheened body down, 
Aragorn opening his mouth so his bottom lipped was dragged over 
Legolas' body during his descent. The ranger knew he could never 
tire of tasting his new lover. Their eyes locked, dark and 
passionately, with each other.

"Sii'* Aragorn", Legolas whispered.

With a feral growl, Aragorn took hold of his lover's hips, and gently 
lowered him onto his aching cock.

The man bit Legolas' neck harshly, the tightness and warmth of the 
elf's entrance threatening to overwhelm him completely. Legolas 
began to slowly grind his hips up and down, arching his back and 
moaning in a hoarse whisper, as Aragorn's cock repeatedly and 
agonizingly came into contact with his prostate, sending waves of 
renewed pleasure coursing through his body.

Aragorn's desire increased to impossible heights as he took in the 
full view of the naked form of his beautiful lover grinding himself on 
his lap.

He raised his hips, keeping pace with Legolas, both moaning at the 
deeper fulfillment this brought. "Lle na vanima*", Aragorn shakily 
breathed, as the pace quickened.

"Amin naa tualle!*........Amin merna lle*!!!!" Legolas brought his 
body forward until his forehead was touching Aragorn's, their hair 
entwining in a beautifully contrasting dance of golden and raven 
black. "Amin lle* Aragorn", he breathed, locking eyes with the 
ranger.

"Amin ten'oio lle*" Aragorn sobbed as their mouths clashed, kissing 
feverishly, Legolas sucking the man's tongue in pace with their 
unified thrusting. Legolas' body clenched, his head thrown back, as 
he reached his second orgasm, crying Aragorn's name and 
drenching himself and his lover with his sweet elven seed. The 
mixed sensations of the elf's tightening body around him, and the 
raw passionate power of his orgasm, sent Aragorn over the edge. 
He brought Legolas to his lips in a furious kiss, the archer 
swallowing the ragged moan of the mans climax, as his body filled 
with the volcanic maturation of their lovemaking.

They broke apart, breathlessly, neither able or willing to suppress 
their satisfied and elated laughter.

Legolas climbed off of his lover's lap, and settled beside him, 
Aragorn lowered himself  so that he was laying flat on the grass, 
gathering Legolas to his chest, kissing his brow softly.

They snuggled together for a while in a comfortable silence, 
enjoying the sounds of each other’s slowing breathing and 
heartbeats.

" Well, my father did say to choose a partner of noble and worthy 
status", Legolas mumbled, as he nuzzled the crook of Aragorn's 
neck.

The ranger laughed softly, leaning into his lover's ministrations. "I 
believe your father would turn a yet to be discovered shade of 
purple if met me." He smiled, sliding his fingers underneath 
Legolas' chin, lifting his face to look into his deep blue eyes. "Or 
should I say, he *will*, *when* he meets me." Legolas smiled 
broadly, and locked Aragorn into another fervent kiss.

                                      ---------------------


Translations:

Maksa........soft
Amin hiraeta............I am sorry
Tampa............Stop
Uuma tampa........Do not stop
Amin anta lle........I need you
Sii'............Now
Lle na vanima.......you are beautiful
Amin naa tualle........I am your servant
Amin merna lle........I want you
Amin lle........I am yours
Amin ten'oio lle........I am forever yours