Title:	Coming Out
Author: the_mad_Elf_banger@yahoo.com.au
Pairing: Aragorn / Legolas
Rating:	NC-17
Summary: Aragorn and Legolas are 
lovers, Elrond gets a surprise.
Disclaimer: neither the sexy archer 
nor the dirty ranger are 
mine, Tolkien owns the 
lot.
Authors Note: Like it? Dislike it? 
Whatever, go ahead and 
tell me! 


Speech is in “..”, thoughts in *..*





Chapter 1



Riding along, wildly pursuing a group of Orcs along the 
river Bruinen leading from Rivendell, Aragorn looked ahead 
to the shape of his companion on the white steed.

Licking his lips at the sight of the Elf’s sexy behind in 
his line of vision, he drove his horse on until he was 
riding alongside him, all the while following his movements 
with greedy eyes, letting them travel up the slender back, 
over the golden hair cascading down it, until he reached 
the fair face, presenting him with the profile whilst 
riding on.

Suddenly he looked over, and Aragorn nearly fell off his 
horse when he saw the lust in those impossibly blue eyes. 
“Hear me, not only these Orcs are in for it soon,” Legolas 
called over to him, trying to make himself heard over the 
racket of the stomping ahead and their stallion’s 
galloping, “I will not even grant you the time to get off 
your horse if you do not hurry up a bit!”

Aragorn opened his mouth for an answer, but as he saw the 
look on the Elf’s face he shut it again, and smiled at the 
next sentence his companion called to him.

“Come on, I do not wish to wait a minute longer!” Legolas 
cried, and pressed his steed further over the knoll ahead, 
notching an arrow to his bow when reaching the top. With 
swift hands he released several arrows, fired with deadly 
precision, causing a wave of terror to pass through the 
Orcs.

Aragorn caught up with the ongoing battle just as Legolas 
leapt to the ground to continue in close combat. The man 
hurried up to him, and drew his sword slaying those foul 
creatures while making his way towards his Elf. When 
finally the ground around them was littered with corpses, 
he stopped to clean the blood off his sword, when out of 
the corner of his eye, he saw a shape charging at him.

Suddenly fearing they missed one, he turned to fend off the 
raid, but before he could raise his sword to his defense he 
was hit with such a force that he fell back, his attacker 
landing on him. His breath was pushed out of his lungs, and 
he felt hands pinning his arms to the ground beside his 
head.

Feeling those familiar hands he at once realized the 
creature atop him was everything but an Orc, too light and 
well-smelling and, when he opened his eyes, he saw his Elf 
looking irresistibly down at him under his long lashes.

“I told you I would come for you when this is over,” 
Legolas said, an alluring smile on his lips.

“Could I guess you meant it so literally?” Aragorn asked, 
justifying his resistance.

“Are you complaining?” the Elf asked, his smile widening. 
“I think I have just proved satisfactorily that I am 
absolutely capable of handling you, even without your 
agreement.”

Still holding the ranger’s arms down, Legolas leaned in and 
claimed his lips in a hot kiss, deliberately pressing his 
entire body against the man underneath him, letting him 
feel every inch of his growing arousal.

Although he could not move his arms, or any other part of 
his body for that matter, Aragorn felt absolutely 
comfortable in that position he felt himself trapped in. 
His Elf was not too heavy to enable him from breathing – 
that was rather caused by the sensation of his soft lips 
massaging his, and the feeling of the hardness rubbing 
against his thigh, exciting his own in return.

When Legolas pulled back he offered such an enchanting 
sight, that Aragorn felt that was enough to finally undo 
him – his trousers so tight over his straining arousal they 
seemed near ripping apart. But while he indulged in that 
sight before him, the nimble archer’s fingers had not been 
idle, and before he knew it, he was naked to the waist, his 
tunic opened and thrown aside carelessly with Legolas 
straddling his hips.

Realizing that his arms were free, he reached up to get rid 
of the Elf’s garments as well, while ever feeling their 
throbbing desires rubbing against the other.

From his position on his back he seemed to take ages to 
unlace Legolas’ tunic, whereas the Elf was more successful 
in ridding him from his restraining trousers, and pulled 
them down completely, taking his shoes along in the 
process. 

The Elf stood for a moment at the feet of his lover, 
regarding his naked form, and cast his half-opened tunic 
aside before kneeling down between the ranger’s legs. He 
ran his hands slowly up along the calves and knees over the 
inner thighs, bringing soft moans from his lover, and 
traced his fingers over the pelvic bone to pause on the 
hips, gently holding on to them while closing his eager 
mouth over the thick shaft straining upwards, already 
leaking somewhat from the tip.

Aragorn could not help but call out at the sensation 
Legolas’ warm mouth inspired with him, the impossible 
softness of his lips and the rhythmical sucking leaving him 
wreathing helplessly on the ground. He reached his hands 
out for the golden head of his lover, who maintained his 
efforts until Aragorn felt his release coming, and arched 
his back, pushing further into the Elf’s mouth. 

Legolas closed his eyes, listening to Aragorn cry out his 
name, taking him in as far as possible and waiting for him 
to reach his peak. Then a wave shook his lovers’ body, and 
hot seed filled the Elf’s mouth, who swallowed quickly not 
wanting any to spill to waste.

Panting, Aragorn stroked the Elf’s head tenderly, before 
his relaxing cock was released and Legolas rose and 
stretched his back like a cat. Lovingly Aragorn watched the 
beauty before him strip out of his leggings, letting his 
Elfhood spring forth in all its glory.

Legolas looked down at the man, sweat covered his body and 
his greedy eyes travelling all over his body, coming to 
rest on his arousal. Smiling wickedly, he let his hands 
wander along his smooth chest, taking hold of himself and 
stroking gently up and down the swelling length.

“Do you think you can handle all of this?” he whispered 
softly.

The man’s eyes widened with longing, and he spread his legs 
seductively. “I can do far better than that for you, my 
fair one.”

“You will have trouble walking home when I am finished with 
you,” Legolas smiled.

“If you are so sure of yourself, come and prove it!”

Aragorn lifted his hips from the ground rapidly in an 
unmistakable gesture, and the Elf closed the distance 
between them in two quick steps, and reclaimed his position 
between the ranger’s legs. Resting his weight on his arms 
Legolas moved his body further down along the tanned torso 
of the man underneath him, but pausing, said, “Wait, let me 
fetch some oil first–“

Aragorn rolled his eyes. “Legolas, forget about the oil.” 
He then took hold of Legolas’ hands, feeling the need of 
the Elf’s prick inside him without wanting to wait for 
preparation with his fingers.

Getting the hint, Legolas lowered himself until the tip of 
his arousal touched the soft entrance at the ranger’s lower 
back, who in return let go of his hands to move his fingers 
over his lover’s shoulders, until his arms crossed behind 
his neck, pressing their bodies together.

The man was beginning to harden again, and raised his hips 
upwards to let the Elf feel it too, not only rubbing his 
swelling cock against Legolas’ stomach, but simultaneously 
pressing his opening closer onto the lingering shaft before 
it.

Legolas locked their lips in a kiss, entering the ranger’s 
mouth with his tongue simultaneously with pushing into him 
with a single, slow move, and he let out a sigh of pleasure 
when feeling such unbearable tightness. Aragorn groaned at 
the sudden pain emerging through his body from that move, 
and again, as the Elf pulled back shortly after.

Afresh, Legolas pushed forward, agonizingly slow, but this 
time touching that special spot, causing Aragorn to cry out 
loud and strain for his lover’s touch.

Taking up a slow pace, Legolas moved in and out of his 
lover, making contact to Aragorn’s love spot with every 
thrust, then reached between them to take hold of his 
growing erection, and began stroking him synchronously with 
their movements.

“By the Valar, Legolas,” Aragorn panted, completely losing 
it, finding double pleasure in the hands of his Elf. 
Hearing that, Legolas increased their speed, thrusting more 
wildly into Aragorn until he felt his ejaculation on his 
hand and stomach, and finding his own release shortly 
afterwards in his lover.

Unsheathing his member, he rolled off Aragorn and knelt 
down beside him, soothingly stroking along his chest and 
hairy stomach. 

“Turn over, my love.”

Aragorn looked up, wide-eyed, “You cannot possibly –“

“I merely want to examine whether I have caused you too 
much damage, that’s all.”

“I assure you, everything if just fine with me,” the man 
retorted, but Legolas arched an eyebrow, and said, “I would 
you left such judgement to me.”

Aragorn laughed, sat up and stroked Legolas’ cheek gently, 
“Be iest lîn.”

He kissed his lips lightly, then turned and went down on 
hands and knees in front of him, presenting him with his 
backside, silently urging him to begin his examinations by 
giving a short sexy wiggle. Legolas softly ran his fingers 
along the curved shapes, and traced the cleavage between 
his cheeks until he reached the entrance he had penetrated 
just a moment before.

His keen Elven eyes could make out no too grave injury, or 
at least none visible on the outside. Nevertheless he was 
enthralled by the sight, and leaned forward to let his 
tongue retrace the trail his fingers had taken.

Aragorn jerked forward at this unknown feeling, completely 
taken aback. “Legolas, what the hell-?”

“Was that so bad?” he replied lightly.

“Bad? No, but-”

“Then leave me to it, would you?” 

Legolas held a firm grip on Aragorns hips, and pulled him 
back towards him to continue this recently found pleasure, 
gingerly probing with his tongue around the tight circle of 
muscle.

Aragorn did not flinch away this time, but closed his eyes 
to this new feeling, utterly different to the prior 
entering, even gentler as any finger could be in preparing 
him – but suddenly the Elf stopped.



Chapter 2



“Legolas?” the ranger whispered, and turning his head back, 
he saw his Elf kneeling behind him, hands still on his 
hips, but otherwise completely rigid.

“Orcs.”

The Elf spat the word out in disgust before he leapt to his 
feet to pick up his clothing. Aragorn followed suit, 
cursing at the interruption and trying to rid his mind of 
any disturbing thoughts of their recent actions while 
getting dressed.

“Where are they? And how many?” he asked, searching for his 
boots amongst the dead bodies.

“I hear 29, still near on two leagues away, though heading 
in our direction rapidly.”

Having dressed swiftly, Legolas collected some arrows from 
the corpses to refill his quiver, then called softly for 
their horses, which trotted up to them some moments later.

Carefully they led the way back from whence they came 
earlier that day, to meet the Orcs in a less open space and 
before they could see their fallen comrades and thus 
catching them somewhat unprepared. 

Entering a small gathering of trees they sent their horses 
away again and took up observation posts in the treetops. 
They did not have to wait much longer till Aragorn could 
also make out the sounds of many feet stomping along in a 
rush. Exchanging glances they silently agreed in beginning 
their ambush, and jumped down mere steps away from the 
leader of the pack. 

The huge Orc was so surprised with seeing the two of them 
fall from the skies, that he stopped dead in his tracks, 
sending those immediately behind him to land in a messy 
heap on the forest floor. The two hunters did not let that 
golden opportunity slip, and started their attack, sending 
limbs and heads falling to the ground, causing even more 
hubbub amongst their opponents.

The Orcs fiercely tried to win on them, and though at first 
highly surpassing them in numbers, they stood not a chance 
and fell one after the other under skillfully executed 
blows of the sword and swift hands leading bow and arrow 
with deadly precision.

Nearing the end however, Aragorn found himself fighting a 
very able adversary, and did his best to get rid of him 
while dodging the ferocious blows swung at him.

Just as another particularly foul looking Orc ran towards 
him to strike out with his scimitar at Aragorn’s unguarded 
back, Legolas reached back for an arrow to come to the aid 
of his friend and lover. Crying out in dismay, he noticed 
that he had used the entire contents of his quiver, and he 
let the now useless bow fall to the ground. Deftly 
unsheathing his daggers he sped towards the remaining 
fighters, and pushing himself between Aragorn and the Orc, 
he cut his throat with one mighty slash, but in a last 
helpless effort the Orc raised his weapon and slit deep 
into Legolas’ thigh.

At the same time Aragorn dealt his opponent the final coup-
de-grace, and turned to face his friend. Horrified, his 
gaze fell upon the gaping wound on the Elf’s leg, and he 
stepped up to him, absolutely irate at seeing this 
wonderful creature hurt.

“Who did that?” he barked, looking around furiously.

“He is dead, calm yourself,” the Elf answered, while 
letting his eyes wander around the floor for any signs of 
life amongst their foes.

“And how am I to do that?” Aragorn cried, “You’re hurt, 
bleeding like a skewered boar!”

Legolas looked up quickly at that last remark. “Thank you 
for that charming comparison, Aragorn. But, barring the 
poor state of my trousers I am fine, just as this one here 
is not.” At that, he pointed to the Orc at his feet.

“So it was him, then?” Aragorn spat, taking two large 
strides towards him and raising his sword above his head 
ready to strike.

Quickly grabbing Aragorn’s arm, Legolas cried, “Aragorn! 
What are you doing? He is dead, don’t you see? What is the 
matter with you?”

“Why me, what’s the matter with you?” the man shouted, 
slowly beginning to shake all over and letting his sword 
drop to the ground.

Legolas still held on to his arm, but remained silent, 
while looking at him intently, trying to remember having 
seen his lover so enraged before. Seeing him shake, he drew 
the man into an embrace, and feeling strong arms close 
around him tightly, realization slowly dawned on him.

Aragorn shut his eyes, and softly sighed while regaining 
his composure, feeling relief rush through him that the 
blow his Elf took was not fatal.

“You could have been killed-“ he began.

“You need not worry, my love,” Legolas whispered, stroking 
his back soothingly, “For I was not.”

“Aye, but-”

He was yet again interrupted by his Elf, saying, “Do not 
trouble yourself with what could have been.”

Aragorn sighed once more, and drew his face back along 
Legolas’ soft cheek, to bring their lips together in a soft 
kiss.

“Come then, and let me tend to your wound, before you loose 
too much blood.” he said, and then tore the seam off his 
tunic to bind it around Legolas’ thigh. Gently stroking 
over it when finished, Aragorn said, “Let’s go home.”



Chapter 3



When they reached Rivendell some hours later, they at once 
sent a servant for Elrond to inspect the wound and 
determine the best treatment for it.

Aragorn supported the wounded Elf on the way to his 
chambers, to help him undress for Elronds examination. But 
on entering the room, Legolas proved he had other plans for 
the moment, and pushed Aragorn against the door, shutting 
it in the process.

Kissing him passionately, Legolas banned all thoughts of 
the throbbing pain in his leg from his mind, and the man 
sighed at the sudden feeling of being trapped between the 
hard wooden door and the soft body of his lover.

Letting his hands wander to his Elf’s waist, he stroked up 
over his chest and reached for the front of his tunic. 
Unfastening the lacings he peeled the garment off the Elf's 
body while letting their tongues battle in sweet combat.

Feeling around the broad shoulders of his lover, Legolas 
sighed softly as he felt callused fingers stroke over his 
stomach underneath the shirt, and as those hands suddenly 
tightened their grip to change their positions leaving him 
leaning against the door, he had to break their kiss to 
draw breath.

Equally out of breath, Aragorn ceased to run his hands 
along Legolas’ taut stomach to take hold of the seam of the 
shirt, pulling it over the Elf's head, leaving him bare-
chested and absolutely irresistible. Bending down, he 
kissed a path down the shapely neck, and over his smooth 
chest, until he reached the top of his leggings.

Resting his head on the door behind him, Legolas savored 
Aragorns touch, and as the man carefully removed the 
bandage from around his thigh, he was utterly distracted 
with other thoughts he did not feel even the slightest 
twinge coming from the wound.

Kneeling on the floor before him, Aragorn brought his face 
close to the clearly visible bulge in the trousers, and 
rubbing his face against it, he felt the throbbing through 
the soft garment. Slowly he pulled the trousers down over 
the growing Elfhood, and, very cautiously, over the wound, 
which had stopped bleeding, but looked deep and 
excruciating.

Legolas slipped out of his boots, and stood for a while 
completely naked in front of his lover, who let his eyes 
wander up and down his body in awe, wondering how he could 
possibly bear the pains of such a wound without the 
slightest difficulty.

Smiling, the Elf stepped to the hat stand and reached for 
the dressing gown hanging from it, and closing it around 
himself he saw Aragorn’s face fall.

“Elrond,” he said, winking, “he is in the hallway outside.”

Sighing, the man rose from the floor, “He has chosen a very 
untimely moment, if you ask me.”

“Aye, but we could continue this as soon as he has left us 
again,” Legolas whispered, and moving towards him, opened 
his dressing gown and closed his arms around the ranger, 
covering him with the soft material and bringing their 
bodies in contact. “Can you wait that long, my love?”

“Legolas, you know I cannot refuse you anything. And 
refusing such an offer would be folly,” Aragorn answered, 
trailing his fingers over the impossibly soft skin of his 
lover’s middle.

The Elf smiled, and leaned in to kiss Aragorn, but at a 
short knock on the door, Aragorn quickly pulled back from 
their embrace, not wanting Elrond to see them in such a 
position.

Legolas raised an eyebrow at the sudden distress in the 
face of his lover, and closed the dressing gown, eyeing him 
closely. The man looked at him rather helplessly, and let 
his hands follow the Elf’s, stroking the garment closed.

As Elrond entered the room with a small bottle of ointment, 
he saw his son aiding his friend getting dressed, and could 
not help but smile at the two of them. They went out on so 
many missions together, and took so much care of each other 
that they reminded him of his twin sons, Elladan and 
Elrohir, like brothers, heedless of race or age.

“How do you feel, Legolas? The wound has not become 
infected, hopefully?” he asked.

“No, I believe it has not. At least it does not hurt,” the 
fair Elf answered, truly not feeling the pain created by 
the wound for the distractions of late.

“I bet it does,” Aragorn put in, trying to divert his 
lover’s attention to something else apart from himself, 
“You just don't want to say so. It looks awful by all 
means.”

“I know someone else who does too,” Legolas answered, 
glancing at him meaningfully, not responding to the man’s 
efforts, and still wondering why he had acted so abrasive.

Aragorn shrank back, and tried to look as if the Elf could 
not possibly be referring to him, despite all the blood and 
muck on his tunic, face, hands, etc.

“Well, let me have a look at it,” Elrond said, interrupting 
their squabbling. *Honestly, just like Elladan and 
Elrohir*, he thought.

Legolas hitched up the dressing gown, revealing a slender 
leg, immaculate but for the big slash on his thigh, and 
Elrond motioned for him to take a seat while he opened the 
bottle in his hands. “This is Athelas essence, and should 
aid you in recuperating quickly.”

The Lord of Rivendell sat down on the edge of the bed next 
to Legolas, poured some of the fluid onto his hands and 
precautiously spread it over the wound. Aragorn kept a 
close look on the procedure, ready to dart at his father 
should he notice even the smallest whince from his Elf, 
very much wanting to do the rubbing in himself, especially 
as he felt he should make up for his recent behavior.

Raising from the bed, Elrond said, “I shall see how your 
leg is in the morning, Legolas. Now you should rest.” He 
stepped towards Aragorn and laid a hand on his arm. “Come 
on, son. Let him get some sleep.”

To his horror the man felt himself being led towards the 
door by his father, who bid Legolas a good night. Too 
surprised to utter a single word, he looked at his Elf 
pleadingly, and the gazes of the two lovers met in 
understanding that needed no words.

***********************************************************
****************

As soon as he was in the hallway with Elrond, Aragorn 
forced himself to a jaw-splitting yawn. Smiling, Elrond 
said, “By the looks of things, you are not really awake, 
either. Perhaps you should match with your friend's evening 
arrangements?”

Trying hard not to laugh at the very fitting choice of 
words, he replied, “That sounds like a really good idea to 
me. Good night, father.”

***********************************************************
****************

After father and son had left, Legolas remained seated on 
the bed, pondering the strange demeanor of his lover. *He 
cannot, surely, dread Lord Elrond’s reaction to our 
relationship,* he thought, *Maybe he was just surprised by 
the abrupt knock on the door? Alas, I will have to ask him 
later.*

He let the dressing gown slip to the floor, and realizing 
that he would not find any reasonable explanation he put 
the matter off for the time being, and turned to lay 
himself in the middle of the large bed. Folding his arms 
behind his head he listened closely for steps outside his 
door, and only minutes later he heard a familiar footfall 
drawing near.

***********************************************************
****************

After saying good night to Elrond Aragorn turned and made 
for the direction of his own room, but stopped around the 
next corner. Listening whether his father was still in the 
hallway, or any other Elf for that matter, he remained 
still for a while.

As he was not able to make out any sound, he retraced his 
steps back to Legolas' chambers. Soundlessly he opened the 
door, and closed it likewise, finally directing his 
attention to the happenings inside the room. 

Before him on the floor lay the dressing gown Legolas had 
worn, and letting his eyes wander, he saw his beautiful Elf 
on the bed, completely nude, arms above his head, and his 
head stretched back exposing the exquisite shape of his 
neck.

Lazily Legolas turned his head, followed by his entire body 
until he lay on his side, propped up on one arm. The other 
he rested on his hip, and seductively stroked along it 
towards his leg.

“You truly offer an enchanting sight,” Aragorn breathed, 
moving closer to the bed and throwing his tunic on the 
floor.

Legolas smiled, and whispered back, “Under other 
circumstances I would too gladly return that compliment to 
you, though I fear ‘dirty’ does you better justice in your 
present state.”

The man fingered with the lacings on his undershirt, and 
sighed, “Have you ever heard of turn-offs, my dear Elf? 
Complaining about your lover's hygienic condition is surely 
one.”

“A bad stench is another. For you, my love, are attacking 
my delicate sense of smell.”

Aragorn stopped his moving closer, not believing what his 
ears registered. “Is this a jest?”

“Nay, ‘tis not. I merely wish for my bed to remain clean 
now I have the luxury of lying in one,” Legolas said, and 
pointed to a wash basin on the bedside table. "You will 
find all you need just over there."

The really very dirty ranger stepped around the bed, not 
taking his eyes off the Elf, who followed his every move 
while turning around on his other side not to miss 
anything. Aragorn flung his shirt into a corner and 
approached the basin, just as Legolas interrupted him.

“Would you kindly hand me over some wine ere getting 
yourself wet?”

Astonished, the man paused in his movement, and turned to 
face the bed, perplexed bursting out, “Will you not wait 
for me to finish?”

“In your filthy state that can take ages,” the Elf 
returned, and sighing, sunk back into the pillows, casting 
his eyes up towards the ceiling.

Incredulously shaking his head at such openly displayed 
insolence, Aragorn reached for one of two large bottles on 
the table next to him, and filled a glass with the dark red 
liquid.

Legolas remained motionless, paying no heed to his lover 
beside him, until a glass was held in his line of vision. 
“Here you are,” Aragorn said, and the Elf honored him with 
one of his most dashing smiles. “I thank you, my love,” he 
said, and holding his gaze, took a long draught from it.

Smiling back at him, Aragorn returned to the basin, and 
quickly splashed water into his face. Scrubbing away down 
his neck and shoulders, he noticed the water turning a 
rather dirty brown, and he wondered why he was always the 
one ending in such a mess.

Reaching for a towel, he turned towards his lover, and 
could not miss the empty glass in his hand. “You must have 
been very thirty, my fair one,” he said, smiling, while 
drying himself.

Legolas looked at the glass, to his amazement honestly 
quite empty. He stifled a yawn, even more amazed at 
himself, but did not stop to ponder that riddle further, 
and set the glass aside, watching the man before him 
rubbing the wetness off himself.

Aragorn threw the towel back over his shoulder sending it 
to land in the basin. “Satisfied?”

The Elf looked him up and down, and nodded in agreement. 
“Very good. You should consider having a wash more often, 
those layers of dirt hide too much of your alluring body.”

Intending to smile, he felt a yawn coming, and just managed 
to suppress it, cursing at himself, and not understanding 
his unusual behavior.

“Then you no longer fear me soiling your bed clothes?” the 
man asked, settling down on the bed, moving his face close 
to the Elf's.

“At the least not by some foul Orc blood sticking onto you-
” he started, but interrupted himself by yawning yet again.

Aragorn pulled back in bewilderment, not remembering ever 
have seen his Elf yawn before, not even in endless days of 
battle or pursue. “What is the matter? Are you bored?”

Suddenly it dawned on Legolas, and he asked, “Aragorn, from 
which bottle did you pour this wine?”

“Why, the large one with the handle,” he replied, not 
understanding what the wine had to do with his peculiar 
demeanor.

After another yawn, he said, “That, my love, is a sleeping 
potion. The other holds the wine.”

“A sleeping potion?” Aragorn parroted, quite shocked. “How 
could you not notice? I mean, it surely does not taste like 
wine?”

“Aye, it does. It is a special one, brewed by your father, 
as the usual potions have such a bitter taste to them,” the 
Elf answered, and after yawning yet again, “I am sorry. 
After all that trouble you went through with your bath-”

The man sighed, and lent back into the pillows. It was his 
own doings, so no good would come from complaining, but 
just the same he wondered at the remoteness of the usual 
Elven prudence in such an act, placing identical-smelling 
and identical-looking liquids unlabelled next to the other.

Legolas had finally fallen asleep, and lay breathing evenly 
beside him, with his eyes unfocused and his lips slightly 
parted. Aragorn kissed him tenderly, astonished at savoring 
wine, the taste still lingering on his lover’s lips.

The man contemplated whether he should pour himself a 
glass, but decided instead to rather watch the sleeping 
beauty for a while. Draping the sheet over both of them, he 
put his arm around him, and sighed happily as Legolas 
snuggled up close to his chest, after their sudden 
interruption nevertheless happy for his unbelievable luck 
to call this wonderful Elf his own.



Chapter 4



Waking in the morning, Aragorn found his Elf laying close 
beside him, his arm resting across his abdomen, gently 
playing with the hair on his chest.

“How long have you been awake?” he asked sleepily.

Legolas smiled, and petted the man’s well-muscled stomach. 
“A while.”

“And you just watched me sleeping?”

“Yes.”

Although the ranger had known the answer to his question, 
he had nonetheless expected Legolas to negate it, even if 
in playful denial, and was somewhat surprised by his honest 
response.

Searching in his eyes for some sign of a jest, he only 
found himself falling deeper for his Elf, and he turned to 
his side and hugged him close. Burying his face in the 
magnificently golden hair, he took in his fragrance while 
Legolas, relishing the tender touch of the man, closed his 
eyes, and returned the embrace.

Feeling his Elf’s body press against his, Aragorn 
remembered that although he was still wearing his trousers, 
Legolas was completely nude, and he let his hands stroke 
downwards to take advantage of the situation.

Pushing him back, the man came to rest atop of Legolas, and 
looking him deep in the eyes, he said, “I feel hungry this 
morn’. And, what’s more, I feel like Elf.”

“Do you indeed? Then we should best see what we can do for 
you, shall we?” Legolas breathed, looking up at him under 
his long lashes.

Aragorn kissed him gently while letting his hands roam over 
his torso down his sides, nibbling along the Elf’s jawbone 
and over his throat onto his chest. Moving further 
downwards, he stroked over the slender legs, and looked 
close to where the wound had been the day before. Now the 
skin showed no traces of any harm, and he kissed it 
tenderly, before guiding his attention to Legolas’ cock, 
looking absolutely appealing.

Firmly massaging Aragorn’s broad shoulders, Legolas asked, 
a playful smirk on his lips, “Is today’s offer to your 
liking?”

“Aye, ‘tis indeed.” he said, looking up at his Elf, “You 
honestly look appetizing.”

He closed one hand around the shaft, and began stroking it 
slowly, then lowering his head, licked around the tip. 
Tracing along the length with his tongue, he enjoyed the 
sight of it swelling with every caress, and then took him 
fully into his mouth until he felt him push against the 
back of his throat.

Closing his eyes, Legolas let his head fall back at the 
feeling of his lover’s stimulation, alternately licking, 
and scraping his teeth along his member.

Feeling Legolas’ hands tighten their hold on his shoulders 
while sucking him harder, the man slowly traced his lips 
over the tip, releasing him, and blowing gently over the 
straining hardness.

The Elf arched his back in delight and sighed loudly, his 
hands gripping even harder at Aragorn’s shoulders, “Ai, 
Aragorn!”

Wincing slightly at the pain in his shoulders, he wondered 
yet again how his Elf managed to bring forth such strength 
with his slim body, and let his tongue probe at the opening 
of his prick, causing Legolas only to thrust around under 
him more wildly.

“Aragorn!” he cried, pushing himself further off the bed, 
longing for release and feeling the blood pulse through his 
cock so quickly, he feared he would pass out ere that 
moment.

Seeing his Elf in such agonizing pleasure, he continued his 
efforts to satisfy him fully, and took him as far into his 
mouth as possible, burying his face in his golden pubic 
hair.

Finally Legolas reached his peak, and filled the ranger’s 
mouth with a wave of his semen, while bucking around under 
him and crying, “Aragorn! Ai, Aragorn!”

Aragorn savored the taste of sweetness his Elf shot down 
his throat, and letting go of his member licked his lips, 
looking up to see Legolas laying on his back, breathing 
heavily, at last freeing the man’s shoulders from his 
grasp.

“I think I could do with another feed of you later,” he 
said, smiling, and pushed himself upwards over the Elf, 
nuzzling his neck when their faces reached the same height.

Legolas closed his arms over the back of the ranger, when 
there was a short knock on the door. They looked at each 
other in astonishment, and Aragorn slipped off him, hastily 
draping the sheet over them, while Legolas bid the one 
outside the room to come in.

At that, a servant poked his head into the room. “Good 
morning Legolas. Aragorn.” He said, bowing, either not in 
the least surprised to find the two of them together, or 
just not showing it. “Would you like me to prepare a bath 
for you?”

Aragorn groaned inwardly at the question, but Legolas’ face 
lit up. “Aye, I would highly appreciate that, thank you 
very much.”

“Very well. It will be ready for you in the bathing chamber 
in 10 minutes.” Again, the servant bowed, and then closed 
the door.

“Come on, this will be fun,” Legolas said, sitting up and 
patting the ranger’s hand to get him moving. Jumping out of 
bed, he flitted around the room in search of his dressing 
gown he had thrown somewhere on the floor last night.

Aragorn slumped back into the pillows, but seeing no way 
out of his third bath in two days, got up also. He did not 
bother putting on anything else, seeing as their 
destination was mere steps down the corridor, and followed 
the Elf only wearing his trousers.

At the end of the hallway they saw four Elves filing out of 
a room with steam billowing out behind them. They greeted 
them and bowed their heads lightly, unsure which of them 
bore the more enchanting sight – the fair Elven prince in 
his soft dressing gown ending just underneath his knees, or 
Elrond’s son, strutting around in the half-nude.

They smiled back at the servants and entered the bathing 
chamber, a bright room with a large tub let into the floor 
in the center, steam rising from the water. They could not 
see, but knew from prior usage, that there were four seats 
along the side of the tub, to enable them to sit without 
trouble as the water was rather deep.

The wall opposite the door was a big window, with a view of 
the gardens and soft curtains covering them. On a ledge 
around one side of the tub were various bottles with 
lotions and herbs for greater bathing pleasure, and big 
fluffy towels were laid ready for them on stools beside it.

Legolas hung his dressing gown over a rack in the shape of 
a tree branch on the wall and swiftly lowered himself into 
the water, moving to the far side, facing Aragorn.

“My love, be honest. Are you aquaphobic?” he asked, 
winking. 

Rolling his eyes, the man stripped off his trousers and sat 
down on the edge of the tub before slipping into the water 
and settling against the side opposite his friend.

At once he felt his decision proper, for the water was hot, 
but not painfully so, and the herbs in it made it soft and 
the scent led him to believe they soothed his very soul. 
Resting his head on the rim he indulged the peacefulness he 
felt, and for a while they both sat soaking quietly.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Legolas undoing his braids 
with nimble fingers. He ducked under, and resurfacing 
stroked back his wet hair out of his face. He then reached 
for a flask of shampoo, and following a sudden inspiration, 
Aragorn said, “Let me do that for you.”

Raising an eyebrow, the Elf looked at him. “Very well, if 
you insist.”

Legolas moved over to him, and taking the bottle, the man 
kissed him quickly. “Aye, I do.”

He then poured a fair amount of the well-smelling liquid 
onto his palm, set the flask aside and rubbed his hands 
together before he brought them to the sides of the Elf’s 
head. Softly massaging around his scalp, he let his fingers 
feel the silky texture of the hair, careful that no soap 
could run into his eyes.

Smiling at the concentrated look on the man’s handsome 
face, Legolas stepped close to him and kissed him, softly 
at first, but then more vehemently. He reached around 
Aragorn’s middle and stroked slowly up and down his back, 
and searching for the man’s tongue with his own, sucked on 
it like his cock had been treated somewhat earlier.

Aragorn did his best to maintain his shampooing, but 
Legolas obviously had assigned other priorities, and 
feeling the arousing Elfhood pressing against his thigh, he 
moved his hands downwards to take hold of the firm Elven 
buttocks, squeezing the cheeks gently.

Legolas sighed as he felt fingers probing along his 
backside, and knew, possibly even before his partner did, 
what he intended to do next. Breaking their kiss, he 
slipped down and submerged into the water, rubbing his 
chest and face against the man’s body on the way down to 
bring his face on the same level with Aragorn’s lower 
regions.

At first the man wanted to protest that he was abandoned so 
suddenly, but then he felt his prick being enclosed by the 
Elf’s mouth, and breathed in sharply, wondering how in the 
name of Elbereth he managed to breathe and suck, and 
undoubtedly wash the soap out of his hair all at the same 
time.

Emerging to take a breath, Legolas stroked his hair back 
out of his face, indeed having rid of the soap. He smiled 
at the man, and kissed him, letting Aragorn taste himself 
on his lips.

The man embraced Legolas, pressing their arousals together 
and moved his hands over his shoulders, and his hair, 
which, quite unbelievably, felt even softer than before. 
Slowly leading the Elf backwards until his back leant 
against the wall of the tub he let his hands move further 
downwards to take hold of Legolas’ legs behind the knees.

Resting his arms on the rim of the tub, Legolas let Aragorn 
lift his legs upwards and crossed them behind his back, the 
man breaking the kiss while feeling with his fingers in the 
cleft in his buttocks.

As the man pushed a finger into the Elf’s tight opening, 
Legolas sighed, closing his eyes shortly at the feeling.

Inserting another finger, Aragorn asked, “How now? Would 
you like some more?”

“Aye, more,” the Elf breathed, and feeling yet another 
finger probing inside him, called out for him, “Aragorn!”

Taking back his hand, he laid both on the Elf’s hips, and 
pulled him towards himself and down onto his erect penis.

Entering his Elf, he felt it even hotter inside him than in 
the steaming water, and could not restrain himself so much 
as to handle him carefully. Wildly he thrust into him, 
moaning loudly and holding his hips firmly in place.

At the first thrust Legolas breathed in sharply, the pain 
surging trough his body on the verge of insufferableness, 
most obviously unperceived by his lover, yet not doomed to 
stay that way.

Reaching in between their bodies he awaited the next 
outwards movement, firmly took hold of Aragorn’s prick, and 
pulled him so far out of himself to only let the very tip 
remain inside his opening.

Surprised, Aragorn looked up to see his Elf frowning at 
him, “Legolas, what-” he started, his horniness giving his 
voice a husky edge.

Hearing the need in his voice, Legolas felt somewhat guilty 
for interrupting him, but nevertheless he exerted more 
pressure on the cock in his hand, to clarify he did not 
agree with his selfish actions and whispered, “You tell 
me.”

“Legolas, you-” he began again, realizing quickly what 
drove his Elf to those actions, but nevertheless felt the 
hand around him tighten some more.

“No, not I. You.”

“Please, Legolas,” he mouthed, feeling his cock growing 
even harder despite the pain.

The Elf loosened his grip somewhat, the throbbing member in 
his backside and his hand granting him such great pleasure 
that his own cock became impossibly thick in the process. 
He brought his lips to Aragorn’s, kissing him so softly the 
man barely felt the touch. “So that hurt, did it?” he 
whispered.

Aragorn looked into those incredibly blue eyes, knowing why 
he had been interrupted, and to make up for it, returned 
the kiss, and let his hands move slowly from the Elf’s hips 
over his sides up to his chest. Legolas sighed and leaned 
into his touch as Aragorn rubbed with his thumbs over the 
nipples, and he gently stroked the straining erection in 
his hand in return.

Letting go of one hardening nub, the man put his hand over 
the Elf’s, and gently opened the fingers, and as Legolas 
did not put up any resistance, pushed carefully further 
into the opening, the slow movement and tightness even more 
delightful than the former touch.

Legolas threw his head back in ecstasy as his lover touched 
his special spot, and resting his weight once again on his 
arms on the rim of the tub, lifted himself slowly upwards 
along the man’s shaft.

Moving his hands back to the Elf’s hips, Aragorn pulled him 
down again, their rhythmic movements gradually increasing, 
leaving the two of them panting together and crying out the 
other’s name.

Finally the man reached his orgasm, and filling the Elf 
with his semen, took hold of the hard member pressing 
against his stomach, stroking it until he felt his release 
in his hand.

Not until then did he pull back out of Legolas, and sinking 
his forehead against the Elf’s chest, embraced him, feeling 
muscular arms close around him also. The hands on his back 
moved upwards, and gently massaged the back of his neck, 
fingering with his hair falling onto his shoulders.

After a while Legolas asked softly, “Would you like me to 
wash your hair for you now?”

Smiling, he retorted, “If you can’t live with the stench, 
my dear Elf.”

“It is not the stench, more the grubby feel-”

“I get the message. Cleanse it if you like,” Aragorn said, 
shaking his head slowly.



Chapter 5



Elrond left his rooms for his every-morning wash, and 
headed towards the bathing chamber on that floor, at that 
moment still occupied by the two lovers, determining the 
perfect hair care for the ranger.

Lost in thought he reached for the door knob, 
subconsciously perceiving laughter and splashing, but not 
connecting it to the room he was about to enter, thus 
stopping surprised at the sight offered to him.

His son Aragorn rested with his back against Legolas, who 
busily shampooed his hair, obviously having used an entire 
bottle judging by the proportions of foam piled atop the 
man’s head, and floating in the water around them.

They both looked up, no less astonished as Elrond as he 
burst in on them, and quite embarrassed, Aragorn wiped some 
foam out of his face, where he had miraculously grown 
himself a fluffy white beard.

Legolas kept his usual calm, seeing no good in fretting 
about it, and continued his administrations to his lover’s 
scalp, massaging on and frothing the soap even higher. 
“Good morning, Elrond. Did you have a pleasant sleep?” he 
asked, charming as always.

“Good morning, you two. Thank you, Legolas, I did sleep 
well.” the Elf lord answered, trying not to show his unease 
at the situation, still standing in the doorway and 
clasping the door handle.

“Father, I believe you wanted something,” Aragorn started, 
“What can we do for you?”

Legolas chuckled softly. “Get out of his bath, for a 
start.”

Elrond lifted his hands in an assuaging gesture, “No, 
honestly. Take your time-”

Realizing that his Elf had guessed perfectly correct, 
Aragorn called after Elrond, who had made to leave, 
“Father, please! Wait!”

Elrond stopped, and wanted to protest, but was cut off by 
Legolas. “We will be out of here instantly, as this is your 
house, after all. I apologize for delaying your bath, but 
we will see to it that it is readied for you as soon as 
possible.”

The blond Elf raised, and moved around Aragorn to the rim 
of the tub, intending to pull himself out of the water. 
Elrond was totally shocked, and tried to dissuade him from 
that idea, wondering if all Mirkwood Elves were so 
unreserved, but before he managed to say a word, saw 
himself facing the nude Elf prince.

Legolas reached for one of the towels and began to dry 
himself off, sensing, though not quite understanding the 
other Elf’s discomfort, and not bothering to turn away, 
asked, “Aragorn? Are you coming?”

The man’s embarrassment was quickly replaced by an unusual 
mirth at his father’s unease, which, as unlikely he would 
have thought at first, seemed to surpass his own by far, 
and felt queerly obliged to join in the fun his Elf had 
begun with his unforeseen exposing of himself. “Aye,” he 
said, “I will be right with you,” and he ducked under to 
wash away the soap.

Then he pulled himself out of the tub, and stepping closer 
to Legolas as he would have needed to, picked up a towel 
from a stool beside him. For the moment just holding it 
without drying himself, he looked at his father to catch 
the expression on his face, and wondered how his former 
fear at being caught with his lover had been replaced by 
this new urge of unearthing the truth.

Elrond found he was unable to move as he watched first the 
Elf and then his son step out into the open before him, 
uncaring for his being there, or the open door he still 
stood in. With Legolas he had thought it a queer habit of 
his woodland kin, but he could not remember Aragorn ever 
having acted that way before. And although he had seen him 
naked before, as he was his son in every but the biological 
sense, that was when he had still been a young child. But 
now he was fully grown, a handsome and well-muscled man, 
and, compared to the Elven race, unbelievably hairy.

He always looked darker compared to the fair Elves, even in 
his usual attire, but what was otherwise concealed 
underneath his clothing now lay bare, showing forearms and 
legs covered in fine hair, and thus giving the impression 
of an even darker complexion. The hair on his chest was 
somewhat thicker, with a thin line trailing down over his 
stomach to his genitals.

All this he observed in a split-second, and shaking off 
those thoughts, he hoped his facial expression had not 
betrayed him to the two lovers – as sure as he at first was 
of them being connected only in a bond of friendship, at 
seeing them now he felt foolish at not having noticed the 
obvious before.

Quite on the contrary to Aragorn, Legolas did not mean to 
offend the Lord of Rivendell, and although it was not a 
common practice in his home realm to run around bare, 
nobody made a fuss about it, either. But seeing the 
unsuccessfully cached look on the face before him, changing 
from surprise to shock, and back again, as Aragorn followed 
him out of the tub to stand so close beside him they were 
nearly touching, he pondered how much Elrond had known of 
their connection subconsciously and never quite admitted to 
himself. Nevertheless he smiled at his lover’s choice of 
time for revelation, and his rather crude exhibition of 
their relationship.

“Would you like to join us for some breakfast whilst 
waiting?” Aragorn asked, finally unfolding the towel, but 
remaining fully exposed, deliberately beginning to rub-dry 
his hair.

Shaking his head imperceptibly and guiding his attention to 
the then and there, Elrond said, “I might do that, thank 
you. I shall let you two finish here and go ahead to the 
breakfast room.”

He quickly stepped into the corridor and shut the door 
behind him. Leaning against it for a short moment, he let 
his mind go over the past few minutes, wondering why he 
never before realized actually how close those two were. 
There had always been pats on shoulders, hugs and such, but 
mixed with playful teasing he never had thought their 
affection going in that direction, although their hands did 
tend to linger too long sometimes on places they should 
not...

Shaking his head at himself, he left his position at the 
door, and made for the breakfast room, hoping for no more 
unexpected surprises.

***********************************************************
****************

Legolas languidly dried his back, and smiling turned to 
face his lover. “I doubt that Elrond could have been more 
astonished had he come in merely a few moments earlier, 
thanks to your prudent way of explanation.”

Aragorn smiled back at him, “Do not ask me why I did that, 
I do not seem to be quite myself lately.”

“I assure you, physically you are as fit as ever,” said the 
Elf, and winked, “and as for your mental state, you will be 
much more at ease now that we will not have to keep up the 
veil of secrecy.”

“You then think it was the right decision to tell him?”

“Aye, I do. It will be so much more fun this way,” Legolas 
answered, and taking his towel at the ends slung it over 
Aragorn’s head, letting it rest on his middle, and pulled 
him towards himself. “There are so many places we now can 
visit, previously interdicted due to the publicly available 
location.”

Aragorn let his towel slip to the floor and laid his hands 
on the Elf’s hips, running them over the soft skin of his 
back up to his shoulders until he held him in a tight 
embrace. He kissed him softly on the lips, and whispered, 
“You cannot imagine how I am looking forward to that, my 
love.”

Dropping his towel also, Legolas closed his arms around the 
man, and whispered back, “Aye, believe me, that feeling is 
mutual.”

They kissed again, longer but just as softly, and albeit 
their former actions Legolas was feeling aroused again, 
owing to those special Elven qualities.

Standing so close together it was impossible for Aragorn to 
miss his partner’s condition, and he smiled at the 
impossibly short recovering period as he felt the Elf’s 
hardening member pressing against his thigh.

The man broke their kiss, and looked into those incredibly 
blue eyes directed at him. “You surely are a glutton, my 
fair one,” he said, smiling.

“Aye, and the object of preference is luckily nigh at 
hand,” Legolas said, while rubbing his hips seductively 
against his lover’s, and kissing him again.

Aragorn sighed into the Elf’s mouth, and although he felt 
fairly tired after all their activities at such early hour, 
he relished the taste and feel of the fair beauty in his 
arms. Running his arms farther up his back, he touched the 
wetness of the silken hair, and suddenly remembered the 
tub.

“Do you think the water is still warm?” he breathed while 
shortly interrupting their kiss.

Legolas opened his eyes, a light sparkling in them showing 
pure delight. “We can soon find out,” he said, and in a 
swift move, pushed his body quickly against Aragorn, 
holding firmly onto him.

Astonished, Aragorn clung onto him as well, feeling both of 
them loosing their balance and falling, and opened his 
mouth to call out.

Before he was able to utter a single sound, he felt 
Legolas’ lips closing over his again, and shortly after, 
they hit the surface of the water with a loud splash, 
sending most of the foam, along with a good share of the 
water flooding the room.

Surfacing and gasping for breath, Aragorn was once again 
reminded of the Elf’s superiority, for Legolas’ breath was 
not even quickened after their fall, and he ran nimble 
fingers all over his body, as if to feel every inch of him 
at once. The Elf’s lips had found a way to one of his 
nipples, and was sucking it while caressing his chest with 
his hands. 

Casting his eyes up to lock with Aragorn’s, he said, “I 
just love your hairy chest. Aye, I love you.”

Feeling his heart miss a beat, Aragorn pulled him towards 
himself letting Legolas’ head rest on said chest, and 
breathed into his ear, “I love you too, my fair one.”

***********************************************************
****************

In the meantime, Elrond had not only entered the long hall 
at the northern part of the house, but he had waited a 
while, finally started and then finished his breakfast, all 
the while thinking about the unexpected turn in his son’s 
love life.

After a seemingly endless train of thought, beginning at 
his incomprehension of the whole matter and naivete for not 
noticing earlier, he finally settled with the conclusion 
that, as it was not uncommon amongst Elves to choose a 
partner of the same sex, it would not make much difference 
for Aragorn, after living amongst them and being treated as 
one of them his entire life. And, besides, the prince of 
Mirkwood was surely no bad choice.

As neither of the two lovers came to join him at the table, 
he estimated that they probably had changed their minds, 
and had something brought to their rooms, and he raised to 
go back for his belated bath.

***********************************************************
****************

Aragorn lay on his back, in a pool of water on the floor, 
his arms wrapped around his Elf and sucking on one of his 
shapely ears, after having battled themselves out of the 
tub. Legolas rested atop him, breathing unmistakably harder 
under the man’s administrations on his ear, and searching 
with oil-slicked fingers for the man’s entrance.

***********************************************************
****************

Turning the last corner, Elrond listened, and stopped 
walking. Undoubtedly, he could make out loud breathing, 
some splashing, and looking down to the floor, saw water 
trickling out underneath the door.

The breathing was replaced by louder sighing and crying 
out, accompanied by new waves of water gushing out towards 
his feet. 

“Legolas!” - “Ai! Ai!”

He sighed and turned, suppressing the urge to tell his son 
to leave him to his favorite bathing chamber, as he did not 
want to barge in on them a second time, and more, at this 
particular moment. So he decided to settle for a substitute 
this time, and he went to search for a servant to prepare 
his bath in another room.


The End




Be iest lîn = According to your wish
	page 7