Title: Enslaving Legolas Authors: Makiko Igami (makikoigami@yahoo.de) & Nix Winter (duo@onepinkrose.com) Archive: http://www.yaoi.rulestheweb.com http://www.adultfanfiction.net under MakikoIgami http://www.efanfiction.net/authors.php?no=2916 Category: AU-ish, RPG Rating: As NC-17 as you can imagine. o.o; Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas Warnings: Slash, BDSM, PWP-ish Spoilers: None Summary: Caught in a Dwarven Sanctum, Legolas has to face his punishment under the custody of his best friend Aragorn. Slash, BDSM, PWP-ish... a simple bribe to both authors. ^_^ Disclaimer: I bet J.R.R. Tolkien would rotate in his grave if he knew what we did with his inventions... O.o; Ahem, so, no, we don't own them. Nix does own Tokala though... so go and buy the book! ^^; Notes & Comments: I... have this... need to see Legolas dominated by Aragorn ever since I watched TTT for the third time, I admit, and thus I bribed Nix with writing a nice BDSM-RPG to watch TTT and she came back and was like, "LET'S DO IT!" As enthusiastically as I was about the idea... so this story/rpg is written with our blood and sweat... *laughs* Chapter 1 It was the first month of summer. Aragorn had been sent to Mirkwood, carrying a letter from Elrond to Thranduil. It made him happy as he was going to see his old friend Legolas again. They had spent some time of the Human's youth together and become quite fond of each other, so whenever Aragorn got near Mirkwood he visited the Elven prince. Sometimes they’d even traveled together for a time, sharing each other's company in the darkness of the forest. But never had they been in trouble. Until now. Their current journey had brought them close to Iron Hills where some brave Dwarves lived and searched for gold and silver and other valuable metals. There they were found by Blorn, son of Horn and led to the Dwarves' leader Jinfur, son of Kofiur, deep underneath some hills. Everything was fine and good, until Legolas decided that a bath would be nice. Unfortunately he had chosen the spring where the Dwarves got their water. It was a sacred spring and thus he couldn't leave without being punished. Jinfur didn't look happy. In fact he looked quite furious as Legolas stood in front of him, not faltering the slightest as he glared at the small figure with the long black beard, being a few millennia older than him. Nevertheless, he had to go through the punishment. A whole month of being bound while under the control of someone of Jinfur's choice...Aragorn had seen the Elf's face pale at that exclamation and heard his protest until the Dwarf gave in that he would have the right to approve of his "Keeper". Everybody he knew, that he trusted, was miles away and he would never give himself into the custody of a Dwarf. There was antipathy between Elves and Dwarves that was as old as Middle-Earth. Aragorn understood nothing of it, but after some time of baiting he got annoyed and told Legolas that he would take care of him, if this was his choice. The Elf had looked at him seriously for quite a long time and then nodded. He asked Jinfur if it was okay that Aragorn was his "Keeper" for this month and the Dwarf - who was getting pretty annoyed by Legolas' bickering by that time - agreed all too happily. Thus, two very strong looking Dwarves took Legolas away by for "preparations," as was explained to Aragorn during the ritual feast they had held for this event. Also, they told him that this happened not often, once in a few hundred years. And always had it been an Elf who was foolish enough to take a bath in the sacred spring. The Dwarves laughed and patted him on the shoulder, relishing in their malicious joy about Legolas' foolishness. Aragorn knew it should have made him angry, but the ritual wine he was given made him feel rather dizzy and nervous. What did they expect him to do with Legolas once he entered the dungeon they brought him to? And if it was indeed what he thought they wanted him to do... would he be able to withstand it? Aragorn's expression went hard as his heart answered. What would Legolas think of him if he did it? What would he say if he betrayed the trust he was given? Legolas woke slowly from the preparations he'd been through, wiggled a bit and made a face as he remembered what they did to him. Skilled Dwarven hands had cleansed him inside and out... touched him in places he didn't want them to touch, but all with some kind of clinical indifference and he had been grateful for that. Also there had been wine...and he felt dizzy, just a little, not as bad as before...when he had asked what was going to happen to him and he was told that Aragorn will have him... but he couldn't be sure... he never trusted Dwarves. He sighed a little and started to move, slowly discovering that he's bound, legs wide, feet bare against warm stone... His sigh sounded like a soft moan around the gag in his mouth, head tilting back just a little, exposing long pale throat, moving his hair around which reflected the warm light of the fire... his fingers were moving, then his hands... as he realizes, fully realizes that his wrists are securely bound... 'Damn, what did they put into that wine?' Aragorn thought to himself as he stumbled forward. He headed towards the dungeon where they’d brought Legolas, feeling very dizzy all of a sudden. And hungry. But not for food…something else he couldn't place a finger on. He found the cell where he was told that Legolas was to be bound to a special frame. He stopped before entering, taking a deep breath, and wondered why his cheeks felt so hot all of a sudden. All he wanted was to sit there with Legolas; maybe talk to him until that month he was charged was over. But it struck him like thunder when he opened the door and saw the Elf hanging from some kind of board, pale arms spread wide to his sides, legs just spread a little, in some suggestive manner that made him hold his breath. What made him exhale in a huff though were the leather-clothes they had put on the Elf. He was wearing tight leather pants that hung low on his hips, a tight leather-ish sleeveless shirt that exposed the fair archer's arm muscles and the leather looked so shiny that Aragorn wasn't sure if it was really leather... or some kind of silk, that looked just very strong. Legolas heard the door open, heard the deep breath... Aragorn. Aragorn was to keep him company, help him fulfill the requirements of his penance. He did not know in what manner he was dressed, but the pants around his legs were tight, holding him close. He moved his arms, legs, testing the limits of his bonds, afraid that he'd been posed in a very sexual manner... and that it might shock the man he called friend, the man who was most dear to him. No amount of testing - struggling almost - could get him free though, and he pressed one burning cheek against his arm, hiding just a little. He feared his friend would be repulsed, would not want him... though he couldn't see the effect his struggles had on the bewitched Aragorn, how the way his hips rocked and moved laces stretching, tightening over the front of him and down both sides of his legs... as if he were a package to be opened and the contents savored... he could not know what reaction that produced. Aragorn thought that he had grown roots and that those kept him standing in the doorway, when all he wanted to do was to get closer to the bound Elf. He hardly noticed that his heartbeat and breathing rate had quickened and he almost dropped the bottle of wine and the loaf of bread he had found after this strange banquet that was held before he was allowed to go to Legolas. There had been some wine especially for him that nobody else drank and he suspected this to be the cause why he felt so dizzy. Though right now he wasn't sure if it wasn't Legolas appearance as well... 'How would it feel like to run a hand over this ivory skin...' he wondered idly and felt his lips becoming dry. That made him snap out of his daze-like state and he closed his eyes and took a step forward, walking over to the little chair and table that stood in one corner of the room. There he sat down the wine and the bread, before he walked over to the bound Elf... his Elf for a month, he reminded himself. "And here I thought Elves couldn't make mistakes," he said with a little grin as he stood in front of Legolas, taking off the blindfold. Legolas blinked, eyes adjusting to the fire-lit room. Aragorn, dark silky hair clean and neat, soft ripples that begged to be touched. He still had one cheek pressed to his arm for a moment though, afraid, not understanding why. Aragorn... the high cheeks, deadly serious eyes, now soft with pleasure and amusement. It was beautiful to Legolas... and he wanted to see pleasure on that face... very much... but Elves don't make mistakes...he couldn't have done this on purpose... and now... deeply embarrassed, he bit down on the gag holding his tongue, the wooden bar between his teeth and looked down, "Mmmmm." That was when he saw how he was dressed... and started to struggle at the bonds again... for this month, he belonged to Aragon... there was no shame to the penance, but he felt shy, timid in any case... knowing that Aragon was meant to fulfill the penance by touching, exploring, finding pleasure in him, for a full month... and he wanted this... but... yet... and he wondered if it were the wine he'd had... distantly wondered... if that was what made him pull back, made his mouth dry, his heart beat, his body respond just to the nearness of his friend. "Aaaaa." Again the Elf struggled, tried to get free from the bounds that held him in place... right where Aragorn wanted him. The man blinked for a moment as he realized that he just thought that. He was a little shocked, but somehow... He gave in and licked his lips as his hand reached out to touch a soft pale cheek gingerly. Slowly he turned Legolas' face, from where he hid it on his arm, so that he could look into those dark blue pools. He saw cheeks that were colored pink from embarrassment, the shame in eyes that looked down and was completely taken aback. "You want this gag removed, don't you?" he asked, his voice feeling hoarse all of a sudden. There was a question? This was not going how he'd thought it would before they'd started his preparations... going to sit by the fire and talk and rest for a month... Aragorn's touch on his cheek left a track of tingle across his skin. Aragorn couldn't want this? Couldn't want to touch him like this? The touch had also given him a very slight hint that his pants were going to become a tight bond sometime soon... if Aragorn touched him again...They were made the same, Elf and Man, hardnesses and entrances... but Legolas suddenly feared what he might say if his mouth were free... either to ask for freedom from his bonds, or to ask for more touch. The thought seeped in that if they'd done something to his wine, perhaps they might have to Aragorn's as well... and he might not be sure what to expect...except that he knew his friend would not harm him, not in rough passion or any other way. He pushed at the bar in his mouth with his tongue, showing that he wanted it out, and only managed to show a little of his tongue around the bar, pink licking at hard roundness... Aragorn studied the Elf's face as myriads of thoughts seemed to wash over the older one's mind in a heartbeat. He saw that Legolas pushed at the gag with his tongue, trying to show him that he wanted it out, but something in those emotions he had seen on the usually calm face made him only grin as he caressed the soft cheek with his thumb. "How about later?" he said and out of a sudden impulse he licked a small bead of sweat from the dark golden brow. Legolas' head leaned both into the caress and back a little as he moaned softly. Later? He bit the bar between his teeth and made a noise at the back of his throat, growling very softly. Perhaps part of his wine had been something to loosen his control, to turn even an Elf who'd seen many winters and lived many times the lives of a man, to free his emotions, to give him into Aragorn's control. The muscles of his arms flexed as he grabbed hold of the chains above the cuffs holding his wrists. Aragorn was surely only comforting him... he couldn't mean to... The sweat tasted of salt... and some sweet kind of soap... and somehow... it made his hunger rise for more. His hand rose to cup the other ivory cheek as his mouth moved on to lick some more sweat from his brows and together they steadied the Elf's face as he rustled with his chains, again trying to get free. But the little moan he had emitted made him feel like Legolas actually... liked being licked by him. That he couldn't move and was fully under Aragorn's control made the whole situation just more delicate. He wondered why he suddenly enjoyed lapping the sweat from his best friend's face. But why not accept the gift he was given? He stepped away to take a look at the hot cheeks and a blazing dark blue fire before he pressed his lips to the Elf's temple, moving a bit more to the right, inhaling deeply at the herbal scent of the pale blond hair, before he started to nibble softly at an elegantly pointed ear. It was the feeling of not being in control now, of that having all been given over to his best friend, most trusted ally, and yet completely unfamiliar as a lover, Aragorn. Panting, he tried to back away, to get a moment to collect his thoughts, to approach this in calmness. If he was to share pleasure with Aragorn, it should be orderly and neat and he whimpered helplessly as Aragorn's lips touched his temple, trying every angle to free himself from his bonds, twisting his wrists as Aragorn's breath was so close to his ear, the heat of his cheek cooling the burning blush on his own skin. "Aaaaaa," he said around the bar between his teeth, and he meant it to sound prohibitive, but all it did was reveal his pleasure, his uncontrolled emotions and desire and he wished he could hide, to close his legs at least, or to shift them so that Aragorn would not notice how the laces closing them bulged over the hardness of passion that betrayed him. They must not do this! Not without the calm and orderly passion that Elves did things! "Ummm." And again, it was only the sound of unwilling need... he would not admit it, how the thought of Aragorn being able to take control and do as he pleased was perhaps the only way to completely uninhibit him... His heart beat so loudly in his chest that Aragorn thought Legolas could hear it... but then he noticed that the Elf was making sounds of his own little... pleasure? Aragorn stirred and stopped his movements, backing away from the panting and flushed Elf, to take a look at what he had caused with his touches, besides exciting himself. He saw Legolas hanging loosely in his restraints, trying to catch his breath, hair of the color of straw hanging in small strands from the usually neatly combed little braids. His cheeks had the color strawberries and he thought that his lips would taste just like that if he removed the gag with his mouth...His thoughts trailed off as he spotted the small, but under the tight leather, clearly visible bulge. How was it possible that his own pants suddenly felt way too small? He licked his lips again, to catch the reminders of Legolas' sweat as he spotted a small dagger on the other side of the room, behind the Elf and made a mental note to use it later. Maybe this arrangement wasn't as strange as he thought... His ear felt so sensitive, so lost without Aragorn's kisses and lips, but he would not give in! It would go farther than this if he didn't protest... and he wanted it to! What would Aragorn think of him!? He watched Aragorn lick his lips, lick his own sweat from those lips. He bit the bar between his teeth and tried to straighten a little, searching Aragorn's face, eyes, looking for signs that the man did truly desire him? Daring him to desire him? It was hard to stand straight with his legs bound apart, but he did as best as he could, which only made his pants tighter. If Aragorn wanted him, he would have to overcome him, take him, and he dared the man to have the desire... If there had been a fire in Legolas' eyes when he had entered the room, it was now blazing and Aragorn couldn't quite make out what was the cause for it. He took a hold of the blindfold again, held it behind his back and moved closer to the Elf again. Having recovered a little from the sudden shock of desire and lust when he had mapped the plain texture of Elven skin with his tongue he felt much calmer now as he licked at Legolas' ear again, from the base to the tip of the pointed ear. Under his caress, he felt Legolas shudder and close his eyes and as quick as an Elf he brought the blindfold up and put it around those blazing eyes again. He fumbled with the gag and removed it from the immortal's mouth, just to seal it half a heartbeat later with his own, very dry lips. His heart made a leap and he thought it had missed a beat but then he felt it pounding against his chest, powerful and strong, but faster than usual. A bolt of desire flashed through him and with his slightly hazed mind he noticed that he was licking over Legolas' soft pink lips, finding a crevice in them and letting his tongue break them open as it wormed its way inside the Elf's mouth. Legolas did shiver as Aragorn's tongue traced his ear. Such intense sensation could bypass an Elf for the span of a Man's life, and then when it blossomed an Elf might not be ready for it. His legs went soft and he had to hold to the chains by his wrists to hold himself up. He wanted to call Aragorn's name, to plead, but he didn't know what for. The blindfold coming around his eyes nearly spooked him cutting the small belief he had in his ability to control this situation, himself. He started to struggle again, the front laces of his pants and that which was underneath rubbing against Aragorn's leg, quite unintentionally, but the more he struggled, the more they touched, slow pressure as he turned, trying to see out of the blindfold. Out came the gag-bar and then Aragorn's tongue on his lips and his legs went weak again. The man's mouth held his, licking and teasing. In the darkness, the kiss was all he felt, even the floor and the bonds on his wrists disappeared under the sensation of the kiss. If he'd had time to think about it, he'd wanted to open his lips for Aragorn for a long time, but just then, it was too intense and he didn't respond fast enough... Aragorn's passion, the tactics of his tongue opened the Elf's mouth for him. He found his own tongue to be too surprised to react with any calm or well thought out action; instead it rose to meet Aragorn's, his mouth opening as he tilted his head. The magic in the wine he'd been given would reassert itself in a moment, and he'd resist, try to hide out of shyness and pride, but in this moment, he floated in the kiss that was his whole world, float in the core of his feelings for Aragorn. Just fragments of thoughts in his dizziness, but he hoped Aragorn would pursue him in his confusion, pursue and pinion him, free him even as he possessed him. Catching the Elf's face with his right hand again, Aragorn tilted his head to the side, roaming deep in Legolas' mouth, sucking at the immortal's tongue and tried to reach every place inside the sweet mouth at once. Their lips were closed as he leaned in further, as tight as they could and it was hard to breathe with his nose pressed against the soft skin. Unconsciously he brought one leg forward, stepped between Legolas' spread, almost inviting thighs. A tingle went over his back as he felt the bulge of laces rub against him and it made him groan, feeling his own desire rise between his legs. He moved even more forward, pressing his body to the bound Elf in a manner as if he wanted to feel every inch of him at once. Leaning his one hand to the board, he buried the other in freshly washed pale strands, pulling Legolas even closer to him as he ravished the Elf's mouth in a manner he had never thought of being capable of. A corner of his mind, that wasn't as clouded as the others, screamed that this was wrong, that Legolas was his friend and trusted him not to do this, but it was silenced soon by a primal hunger, a desire so deep for the fair creature, bound and to his custody alone that it almost frightened Aragorn. But yet he wasn't driven by thoughts of fears but only desire. Light headed, Legolas returned the kiss as he could, though Aragorn overcame him, claiming his mouth. Heat, which felt as old as middle-Earth herself to Legolas washed through him, burning through him until he moaned into the kiss. He would disgrace himself in front of his friend with this intense passion... but it was Aragorn kissing him. There was little he could do with his face held in the hands of the king of men, but he did his best to welcome, to try to resist the primal fire burning in him. Aragorn tasted of leather and horses and power and victory, of something so unique to the man that Legolas knew that no matter how long he lived, it would forever linger sweetly to his tongue. Then Aragorn's leg pressed between his parted legs, and pressure, sensation, touched his enflamed hardness and a sudden panic hit him...Aragorn would surely feel the hardness under the leather, surely know that he desired this and so he tried to pull back, managing only to rock against the strong thigh. Aragorn's fingers wove into his hair and he felt himself pulled closer, pressed to the strong body of the man and the kiss intensified, taking his mouth, molding his body to his friend's, even as he tried to resist, struggled, chest and hips rubbing and rolling over Aragorn as he did... and he wondered... could Aragorn be bewitched? Bewitched with a loss of control? Aragon's passion would equal immortal passion...and Legolas tried to stop returning the kiss, tried to find some calm and rational place in his mind. Aragorn rather felt than heard Legolas moan into their kiss and somehow that encouraged him to move further, starting to rock his hips into the ones that struggled underneath him, rubbing against his thigh more unconsciously seductive than willingly as he assumed. The man suddenly felt a bolt of guilt shoot through him and he broke the kiss, but still rather reluctantly, backing away a little. That brought him face to face with the Elf and he was still holding his head with his right hand, fingers playing with strands like sunshine and he somehow regretted that he couldn't see the fire in those blindfolded eyes. He wanted to say "I'm sorry," but somehow the words didn't make their way onto his lips. His lips that tasted more of Legolas than of himself. He took a step back, giving the Elf some of the space he had just taken so freely without permission. One single word found its way to his lips and came free in a tiny whisper, barely audible. "Legolas..." To be continued... Title: Enslaving Legolas Authors: Makiko Igami (makikoigami@yahoo.de) & Nix Winter (duo@onepinkrose.com) Archive: http://www.yaoi.rulestheweb.com http://www.adultfanfiction.net under MakikoIgami http://www.efanfiction.net/authors.php?no=2916 Category: AU-ish, RPG Rating: As NC-17 as you can imagine. o.o; Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas Warnings: Slash, BDSM, PWP-ish Spoilers: None Summary: Caught in a Dwarven Sanctum, Legolas has to face his punishment under the custody of his best friend Aragorn. Slash, BDSM, PWP-ish... a simple bribe to both authors. ^_^ Disclaimer: I bet J.R.R. Tolkien would rotate in his grave if he knew what we did with his inventions... O.o; Ahem, so, no, we don't own them. Nix does own Tokala though... so go and buy the book! ^^; Notes&Comments: I... have this... need to see Legolas dominated by Aragorn ever since I watched TTT for the third time, I admit, and thus I bribed Nix with writing a nice BDSM-RPG to watch TTT and she came back and was like, "LET'S DO IT!" As enthusiatically as I was about the idea... so this story/rpg is written with our blood and sweat... *laughs* _____________________________________________________ Chapter 2 Lost, he hung from his bonds, confused more now than he had been...Aragorn didn't want him... rejected. No spell would be enough... One crystal tear slipped out from under the blindfold that soaked up the rest of them, sliding easily down his cheek. To explain the desires of immortals was beyond him now, to explain his desire for the man, his friend. When first he'd heard his sentence, given to a master for the master's pleasure for a full lunar cycle, he'd hated it, trembled and considered what honorable options might be open to him... and then... they'd allowed him to ask Aragorn to own him for that month... and it had seemed like a gift. Every touch he'd been given since waking had lifted him towards a passion that was not Elvish, not normal, and so addictive and desirable, frightening in its grip and he longed to have it back...He did not know how to say that to the warrior who was his equal friend, how to beg for just what Aragorn had been doing. In whispered Elvish, he did what he always did, leap into the battle, leap to what awaited him as he followed the path of his soul. "Aragorn, Master by my choice, I am not of your kind, but your touch has lingered in my dreams by the light of many moons. I will understand if you find me distasteful now, knowing that you are my master by my choice, the one man I desire to hold this power over me... and yet I am fearful and can not help my resistance. Does my fear and bondage repulse you?" He held his head high after offering what words he could offer. Blindfolded he could not see Aragon's emotions, disgust or desire and so he had to wait, bare arms shivering with anticipation, body still held wide in offering to the man he'd chosen for his Master. As the tear rolled down the ivory cheek, Aragorn started to shake. Shake from a disgust rising inside of him of what he had done to his friend, to his best friend who trusted him with his life, body and soul. And he was given to take all of it, if he wanted to, during this month that just had started. It was given to his responsibility to take care of the Elf in his bound state, or leave him as he was, helpless more than a newborn child. No, that wasn't right, reminded Aragorn himself. A newborn child wasn't able to talk. And talk Legolas did. In fact he sounded lost and hurt when he confessed that he had hungered for the Man's touch even before he was given to Aragorn, a free, immortal and unbound soul with the spirit of the wind. Those words, spoken in Elvish in this little room, they broke what little self-control and restraint his weakened mind still possessed. The man made a step forward, as silent as he could, wanting to startle his Elf as his hand reached out to cup the cheek with the tear, caressing the fluid away with this thumb. He looked at this little movement for a while, fascinated by its simplicity and tenderness before he gave the proud prince of Mirkwood the answer he deserved. "Legolas, you are anything but distasteful to me, fairest of all Elves I've laid my eyes upon. It was not your fear that made me hold back, but my own. For I am fearful to break what I am given, yet my heart desires it. I do not know why I feel like this, Legolas, but I desire you. I want you to be mine, mine only..." His voice became quieter now, as he studied the desirable features of Legolas' perfect face as yet they were partly hidden by the blindfold. Swallowing down his rising hunger, he continued in a whisper, "Legolas... Your bondage just makes it sweeter for me, for I can do what I like to you... but I fear to drive you away from me with my actions..." "To me," Legolas said, shivering... He'd admitted that he wanted Aragorn, heard that he was wanted in return, heard the hunger in Aragorn's voice...and he thought his fear would diminish, but it didn't... it intensified, making him shiver harder, his lips trembling against Aragorn's tender hand. Aragorn wanted him... feared to hurt him... and it broke through the layers of defense his heart had built across the centuries, breaking open emotion that he'd not shown since his youth. "Aragorn!" It came out as a strangled cry against the hand caressing his cheek. If his bondage made it sweeter, he wished he could tell how truly bound he was, by his need for Aragorn, by the fear of what was in his own heart and how long he would carry that love, and of the passion that would consume him, and the vulnerability he felt so intensely. There was fear that he would hurt Aragorn by his resistance, for he knew the fear holding him was more than he could have expected from himself. As in things magic, sometimes freedom came in unfamiliar paths and only if Aragorn's passion for him could over come them both, would freedom return. He struggled once again, to find some unfound way free of the bonds, to reach freedom without the risk. There was none... but his body arched and reached, brushing forward... and he was still terribly excited, passion still evident under the leather pants... his fear kept him from any idea how beautiful he might seem stretched between his bonds, arching and reaching for a freedom that only Aragorn could give him. Legolas shivered a little more under his touch, but yet he didn't back away from it, maybe even leaned closer to his hand, lips as soft as feathers touching a rough palm that was more accustomed to holding the hilt of a sword or dagger. Legolas seemed so soft... he was not really able to fathom it yet he craved for this softness. He seemed so ethereal, so beautiful, not from this earth, thought Aragorn, who had lived among Elves all his life and knew about their beauty. He heard the chains rustle, felt and saw him moving, trying to get free once again and yet it had the same result as before, making it only harder for the man to keep the tiny bit of self-control he had just regained. And then the Elf cried out his name. "Sshh..." said Aragorn and bent his head a little to seal Legolas' lips again, now gentle and tender. He was taking his time in contrast to their first kiss, which had only spoken of the Man's hunger for the Elf, although he wasn't really sure that the hunger was his. He wished it though, wished it with all his heart that he wasn't doing this because of some kind of drug that had been slipped into his wine. He pushed his concern aside and savored in this kiss that was so different from the first one. He tasted the salt of the single tear on those rosy lips and licked it away carefully, not forcing his way between these barriers of soft flesh but caressing them softly with his tongue. This time he wanted to give Legolas the chance to adapt to his touches, to show his consent to what he did to him. A little sign like this would be enough to calm his concern. Calm for a moment, at Aragorn's gentle “ssshhh”, and tender kiss, Legolas tried to return the kiss. He wished to with all his being. Trembling lips brushed at Aragorn's, catching his upper lip for a moment. He gave him his breath though, leaning closer and moaning softly into the kiss. It was a trembling kiss. Though Legolas trembled, he did return the kiss and that was what Aragorn needed to find the confidence to move on. He invited Legolas to let his tongue roam in his mouth by opening his lips, allowing him to have a little freedom by not pushing him right now. His feelings were in turmoil and all he really wanted to do was to free Legolas and himself of the restricting clothes they were given. e felt a little uncomfortable although his shirt and pants were made of soft leather and silk, something you didn't find usually. His breath was shallow but even, but he knew that this would change soon. Lightly he trailed a hand down the Elf's side, over soft leather, desperately searching for a gap in the fine craftsman's work until he find one and let two fingers slip underneath, tenderly caressing skin that was older by ages than his. How could one night, one chance given to him by a bound Legolas excite him so much? Legolas let his tongue slip into Aragorn's mouth, tenderly touching the surfaces that meet him: tongue, teeth, inside of his cheek, the seat of Aragorn's voice. There were no rules to this as normal lovers would have them, no set way to excite and tease to pleasure. All the skills Legolas had learned were for naught now, leaving him only the raw vulnerability of his longing for this man and the precious gift of invitation that overcame the powerful need to be offered. It was a gift given not once in a thousand years, the offer of such intimate knowing, and Legolas' tongue offered a bit of his soul in exchange, a part that had already been set aside for the man but had known no way to be given. With small flicks of his tongue, he tasted him, offered himself as sustenance against the curve of flesh and tooth that was uniquely Aragorn, even as Aragorn's questing hands raised the uncontrollable, unbidden fear in him again, hand sliding down his side... seeking flesh that was offered, but never so without defense before. The man's fingers slipped under his shirt, to touch, to awaken skin more familiar with dancing with the moon than with man. Warmth and calluses, need and heat rose in Legolas, in echo of the touch just starting to explore him. As lightening passing too close, need raced and braided around fear, radiating from Aragorn's touch to his mouth where the kiss broke with a cry, head arching back and down to his groin, which ached with bound passion that he pressed forward against Aragorn, helpless in his bonds, pinioned with emotions he couldn't contain. His body pressed towards Aragorn's touch, even as fresh tears slipped under the blindfold and he cried out in Elvish, Elvish old even to him, so primal it echoed the chase of moon and sun, a single word crying for release and for capture, "Dailiatra!" Aragorn had just started sucking on Legolas' tongue that roamed so sweetly in his mouth as he was able to slip a hand under the leather of shirt and pants when Legolas let out a cry of a word he didn't know. He guessed the meaning more than knew it. Leaving his hands where they were, on Legolas' cheek and waist, the man left a trail of kisses along a high cheekbone towards the ear. Again he pressed his body to Legolas. His hips rocked forward as his groin came in sudden contact with the bulge underneath the Elf's laces, coming in sensitive contact with his own, which was rapidly growing. Trapping the struggling Elf between his heavier body and the strange board he was bound to, he nipped at the pointed ear and whispered back in Elvish, "What your body desires...I'll give it to you...but when I decide it's time that you'll receive it." With those words spoken, he lapped one last time over Legolas' sensitive ear and then backed away, removing himself completely from their embrace, to uncork the bottle of wine he’d brought with him and take a sip for it. Also he wanted to remove his shirt as it was getting quite hot in the little dungeon. Legolas thrashed under the kisses, his skin too hot and the kisses only increased his thirst for Aragorn. Panting, he tilted away from Aragorn's kisses, and cried out, whimpering almost when Aragorn's tongue took possession of his ear. Pinned by Aragorn and the shortness of his chains, Legolas had very little range to move, and yet moved, pressing, almost thrusting against Aragorn's body. It was humiliating to need so intensely and yet have so little control. He would not submit to his need, to this overwhelming craving. The nip to his ear sent him over the edge and he gripped his chains, hands wrapped around the slender unbreakable silver and pulled. It was a cry of need, a challenge, hoarse and hungry: "Aragorn!" Those words from Aragorn... he would have what his body desired... in Aragorn's time... As soon as Aragorn's body no longer touched him, he leaned his head back, panting, trying to see under the edge of his blindfold. There was nothing he could see, though he heard the wine being poured and he knew himself to be the stag to Aragorn's hunt, the moon to Aragorn's sun, and the need in his body would be relieved only at Aragorn's will... but he vowed he'd be a powerful stag... and that the man would have to run to catch him. He pulled at the chains again, body tensing, straining at the clothes binding him, hiding him... daring Aragorn to give chase, to chase the moon and claim the light... hips rocking forward, trusting into the air, the bound blindfolded Elf waiting for Aragorn to master him, to fully possess him, to stoke the light of the moon until it was consumed by the sun. "Aragorn!" The man's heart beat in rhythm with Legolas moving against his restraints. It was a slightly steadier rhythm though just as fast. He knew he was watched as he poured the wine into one of the glasses that had been in the room before he entered and took his time watching how Legolas moved desperately against his restraints and saw how frustration took a hold of him, crying out his name in the end. With a thud he set down the glass and unbound the laces of his shirt, pushing silk off his sweaty shoulders and tossing it towards the general direction of the chair. He kept his eyes on Legolas as he strode behind the X-shaped board to retrieve the dagger he had seen earlier. But he didn't only find the blade; there but also a few levers and wheels that were connected to the metal frame behind the wooden X. Curious what they would cause he put the dagger behind his belt and reached out to push one of the levers. To his great surprise some wheels started moving on their own, reshaping the X so that Legolas right arm came down. He pushed the lever next to the first one and the Elf's left arm came down. Thus he was tempted to try out all of the possibilities of his new discovery but first he wanted to see how Legolas reacted to the sudden change of his position. Having his arms moved, pulled to a new position startled him and he stilled like a stag in the grass, still and waiting. He turned his head, one way and then the other, listening, and he slowly started to test his restraints again, finding them just as impossible to get out of... and now realizing that he could be repositioned, that his world had more variables than he'd counted, he panicked, bare arms tight and struggling against bonds that would no more free him than gravity would let a stag fly, but like that stag, he bolted. "What happens? Where are you?" He asked, unable to locate Aragorn by sound now, as he waited in the darkness, spread out and more ready than he knew. Aragorn tried out a wheel and saw that Legolas was tilted backwards along with the board. He kept silent for the moment as he wanted to startle the Elf once again with his sudden appearance close to him. Silently he decided that he didn't want to get Legolas into a horizontal position right now, he spun the wheel into the other direction and then tried out another wheel. This time, it spread the lower part of the X a bit more, moving those legs, as thin and powerful as those of a deer, a little further apart, just a small distance, not more than a child's hand span. He tried another lever and this made Legolas bend forwards. In his surprise he pulled back this one as well, but then decided that he would rather have the Elf at eye-level - although he could not see him - and not bent over... not yet at least...A sudden shudder that came from the thoughts about the possibilities this opened up for him went straight to his groin. So as soon as the blond mane was close to his face again he leaned forward and pressed his stubbled cheek to one that hadn't seen one of its own for a longer period of time the Man could fathom. He sneaked one arm through the gap of Legolas' arm and torso, placing it right onto his stomach. With it, he rubbed lightly over the soft leather while the other went to the hilt of the dagger. "I am right here..." he said, his voice more hoarse than ever. "I found some very useful things..." He pursed his lips and rubbed against the Elf's cheek. "I was just testing them..." he added and grinned a little, more to himself. The movements felt as if he were being examined, viewed and made him blush, excited him even more, until he ached for touch again, ached not only along the length of the shaft he'd learned to touch to find his own pleasure, and now imagined himself stroking his own fingers along the length... he ached where he couldn't touch, and farther back, around the middle of his body to an entrance that knew what might come, even if the Elf's thoughts had not gone there yet... tingling and waiting for touch there too... Prickly stubble against his skin and he pulled, jerked away and then back. Aragorn's scent was torture, excitement that he needed only nearness to deliver. He pressed back from the hand on his belly, against the frame behind him, touching his backside to unyielding frame. The need for touch lower than his belly had him arching, rocking to get away from the touch that was so slow, so teasing, encouraging it maybe... he was comforted to know that Aragorn was there... he needed him, wanted him, needed him to understand the environment they shared... Aragorn...and the Elf could not think more than that, held in timidity by the magic in his own preparation wine. "Please," he whispered, belly shifting below Aragorn's hand... at least the clothing offered some protection, some guard against ... against what he knew not how to express. Legolas struggling under his touch and against him made Aragorn's grin just a little bit broader and he brought up the dagger, not intending to hurt or cut the flawless skin, just to cool it a little as he pressed the broad side of it against his chin. Still careful that he didn't put a scratch on the ethereal beauty, he raised the Elf's chin, forcing him to expose his swan-like throat. When Legolas moved back from his hand he found that this was just an encouragement to hold him back as well and his fingers pressed deeper into the soft leather. He tilted his head so he could look at the pale face, which was now flushed with embarrassment. Aragorn idly wondered how he would have felt if he were bound to this X but then decided that it didn't matter, for it was Legolas in his arms and not the other way round. "Please what?" he asked, his voice low and playful. "What do you want me to do, my precious prince of Mirkwood?" Cool metal touched his chin and he gasped, drew breath and held it as Aragorn lifted his chin. Blindfolded he could not see, could not reassure himself and those fingers pulled him back towards the one who held him. Fear, magically induced even, overrode his pride and whimpered slightly, lifting his chin away from the blade. "Please," he asked, "Free me." In his fears he meant from the bonds, from the embarrassment and vulnerability that would come when his friend completed the ritual they were bound to, their union and his mastery of the Elf, but in his core, he meant for Aragorn to free him truly, to complete the ritual, to free him of the fear and of his silence about his feelings. There were more tears though, as his feelings overwhelmed him, drowning him in desire and embarrassment. His struggles were in vain, accomplishing nothing but the movement of his body... he could not close his legs or prevent whatever touches or pleasure other sensation that his rescuer/master might be lead by the heat of the ritual to giving him. Instinctively, he curled his hips under, knees trying to bend, fingers flexing. "I am a Prince," he said, softly, setting up a barrier to what he truly felt and needed, locking himself behind a façade to keep himself in pride and away from where he truly wished to give his heart and body. "I belong to Mirkwood." Aragorn lapped the new tears from Legolas' face, now immune to whatever signs of restraint the Elf would show. The bulge in his pants was already aching and he had to put up a good amount of self-restraint to not finish this little game that he didn't even really know the rules of, even though he started it. Legolas seemed to shrink while his neck seemed to grow longer and spoke, seemingly calm but his body revealed his uneasiness. It made Aragorn smile. "Yes, you are a prince..." he punctuated this with a playful bite at the Elf's earlobe. "As am I... but without a kingdom." He shrugged before he talked on. "You may belong to Mirkwood for a number of years I can not even try to understand, yet you are mine for a whole life of the moon. It will die and be reborn until I can set you free... my Prince." Slowly he had moved the dagger down while he spoke letting it move over the Elf's sternum down to the collar of his leather shirt until he reached the laces that meant the lock on the wrapping that hid the delicious pale chest. Usually Aragorn only saw it when they bathed... which happened quite seldom and when it had happened, it hadn't bothered the Human the slightest bit. But now he wanted to see this chest, wanted to expose it for his eyes only, to let them roam over pale planes and made linger over the one or the other dark nub... He put the dagger over the first knot and cut it open, quite swiftly and then moved on to the next one, a little lower. "You want to be free? Then you shouldn't have made this little mistake... You are mine... for this month." Fear. He didn't like it, but it seemed to like him quite well. The laces separated, one after another. The tight leather spread, leaving his chest to the warm air of chamber. He lifted his chin, feeling pride mingle with the fear. His Aragorn would not hurt him, this he knew and would not back down from, despite the symptoms of fear that his body would not let go of. "Aragorn," he whispered, forcing his body to relax as the blade slit the laces down his chest. "For the life of the moon, or the life of a man, I would be yours, but what my body and my mind will, this fear does impede. I cannot give what I would, when I am so bound, so into your hands I entrust my being." It was formal, poetic Elvish and it did nothing whatsoever to still the trembling in his body. "Are you pleased to have me? Have I angered you?" The man's touch, he craved as if his blood would boil without it, but the part of him that was as yet untouched by the fear spell craved more than touch...it craved his heart as well. Stopping at the middle of the shirt, Aragorn moved back to stand in front of Legolas. He openly stared at what he had revealed. He was so enthralled that he almost forgot to breathe. Little beads of sweat on skin like marble, looking like a statue of the person himself, rolled down until they were stopped by the extra skin of leather he just cut open. He could not see the slightly darker nubs he wanted to see, but in his hand he held the power to change that. Through his plans of how to reveal more of Legolas' skin slow and tastily he heard the Elf speak to him. He smiled at the words. "I see myself as the luckiest and happiest man on Earth to be the one you trust to take care of you... in this kind of situation..." He wet his lips and brought up the dagger again, aiming for the last few laces that somehow begged him to be cut open. So while he whispered the following words into Legolas' ear, the blade went to work between their bodies. "My body craves for you, Legolas, do you feel it?" He pressed his almost aching arousal that was trapped inside his pants against a trembling thigh. "My heart is only beating for you at this moment..." He trailed off as the dagger didn't find any resistance anymore, indicating that he had reached the bottom of the shirt. With one hand he put the dagger back behind his belt and then put the same hand on what was now unwrapped. Ribs under perfect skin felt so vulnerable to him, so easy to break with the right motions, but all he did now was trailing upwards with the lightest touch of his fingertips that felt so old compared to this ageless skin, calloused as they were. So at the same time as his fingers searched for and found the little nub he had been thinking of for quite a while now his lips moved over sweaty cheeks, catching the salty liquid, kissing softly until they found the lips they needed. He took control of the kiss once again, tasting and consuming, claiming the Elf's mouth as his once again. The fear sharpened his experience, making each detail stand out, every movement of Aragorn's tongue and the shocks of pleasure from his nipple as Aragorn played with it.... He was laid bare for his friend, and offering of pleasure and possession, legs covered, but spread, simply waiting to be unwrapped. Arms out wide, fingers touching nothing but air, it was again as if he floated, with Aragorn his only root to the ground. His chest lifted, trying to free itself from the intense sensation of Aragorn's fingers rolling and caressing it, but at the same time seeking out those fingers, daring them to give chase and demand possession of him. This was no punishment; it was a rebirth. He opened himself to Aragorn's kiss, letting the fear swallow him, believing that Aragorn would catch him in all ways... even as his chest moved, and his nipple slipped just a bit away from the fingers it belonged to. To be continued... ____________________________________________________ Wow, I have to admit, we were really overwhelmed with the amount of feedback we got. For those who may have wondered why we didn't update sooner... it is because Nix & I don't write as fast on this one as My-chan & I do on Tên Mûel. ^^; But I'll keep on updating this one. *nods*