Title: Sweat
Author: IgnobleBard (ignoblebard@hotmail.com)
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sweat.

The Elf was fascinated by it - the exchange of heat, the cooling of the body
through the release of fluid. There was something so... foreign about it that
Legolas found he could never see the sweat on the brow of the Men, Dwarf, or
Hobbits without his eyes tracking the path of the droplets as they slowly created
trails down cheek and nose.

With the ending of the battle before the Black Gate, Legolas knew his heart should
be rejoicing. He knew he should be shouting his joy at the victory even as the men
surrounding him were shouting and clapping each other on the back upon the
battlefield. Yet Legolas stood apart, watching the sweat drip from the Man's face
and feeling nothing so much as the urge to kiss the salty lips that were parted in
a dazzling white smile.

They rode back side by side, just as they had fought these past long months. The
Man and Elf together, brothers in arms, peoples from remarkably different cultures
who had forged a bond borne of fire through some of the largest, bloodiest battles
Middle Earth had ever seen.

Aragorn pressed his sleeve to his forehead, blotting away the moisture there,
weary but in grand spirits. The weight of his toils lifted, if only for a moment,
his sweat-streaked face had a beatific glow in the late afternoon sun.

Arriving upon the Field of Cormallen, the party broke up, Gandalf going to tend
the wounded Hobbits while Gimli, Merry, and Pippin filled their pipes for a
victory smoke. As Legolas turned his horse over to a groom, the new King of Gondor
motioned him to follow as he entered his pavilion. 

Legolas did so curiously and Aragorn turned to face him.

"This victory is a victory for both our peoples." he said. "You have shown
yourself a true and loyal companion and a warrior of great skill. The war may have
ended this day but there are cities and lives to be rebuilt. You and Gimli have
been by my side since the Fellowship was forged. I would like you both to be a
part of the new world to come. If you will stay on in Gondor for a time, I would
be most grateful."

Legolas tilted his head to one side as he thought, considering all the
possibilities open to him now that the quest was fulfilled. He knew not why but
the thought of leaving Aragorn made him almost melancholy. He made a small bow and
said, "For my part, I accept your offer. The sea-longing is upon me and I do not
know how long I can stave it off, but I will stay as long as my heart will allow,
and help you in any way you desire."

Aragorn smiled and inclined his head. "Thank you, my friend. It eases my burden to
know the Fellowship will not be broken for many months to come."

He poured himself a cup of water and Legolas watched him drink it down in two
gulps. Even out of the sunlight, the Man's brow glittered with the dew of his
exertions. Aragorn offered Legolas a drink and he accepted, sipping it as he
watched the man begin to remove his armor.

An aide stuck his head in the tent and asked Aragorn if he required assistance. He
told the man no and instructed him that he would like some time alone before
facing his people for the first time as King.

When Aragorn said he wanted to be alone, Legolas made to leave but was stayed as
the man placed a hand on his arm.

"Will you remain with me for awhile?"

"I will."

Aragorn stripped off the tunic that clung to his sweaty body and Legolas licked
his lips to see the glistening muscles of his friend's torso. How he wanted
Aragorn at this moment, this King of Men, in the ripeness of his victory and the
very prime of his powers.

Elves are not known for impulsive behavior. Living for countless centuries,
watching the changing of ages as Men mark the change of seasons, tends to give one
a sense of the larger frame of events. But Legolas had lived with this man, slept,
ate, and fought at his side, and he saw the frailty of life, the swiftness of it,
the small opportunities that time robbed from Men and from the Elves who shared
closeness with them.

He strode boldly up to Aragorn and seized him, taking his lips in a searing kiss
that left the king wide-eyed but not angry, no, not angry at all, for he made no
attempt to push him away.

Legolas now tasted the salt upon his lips, the sweat of this man, the dust of the
long road to Mordor and back - the taste of victory, the taste of potency.

He released Aragorn and the man looked at him completely taken aback, and yet...
was there something else in his eyes?

Aragorn gazed at him for a long moment. "What took you so long?" he rasped and he
grabbed Legolas and kissed him hard.

The Elf pushed him back upon the pallet that served as the bed and began to slowly
bathe the bedewed body with his tongue, savoring the gritty taste he had thirsted
for each step of the quest. He lapped the sweat from Aragorn's chest and belly,
pulling open the lacings of the man's leggings and tugging them over his clammy
hips. Aragorn writhed beneath him, his hands in the Elf's hair, fresh perspiration
filling his pores as the heat within him built to a feverish peak. Then Legolas
took him deep into his throat, drinking from the font of his slick phallus,
sucking away the moisture that clung to his flesh until Aragorn spilled himself,
thrusting his hips helplessly as Legolas drained him.

The Elf then stood and divested himself of his green and brown garments, falling
to his knees before Aragorn, his body cool as the blade of a sword, but his
arousal hot as the fire that forged the blade. He pushed Aragorn's legs up to his
chest and looked into his eyes, seeing desire fill them as paused at his entrance.

Legolas ran a hand through Aragorn's wet hair, slicking his hand with the man's
sweat, which he used to prepare himself. He then pushed in, teasing his way past
the opposing muscle with small gentle thrusts. When Aragorn began to bear down, he
went deeper, longer, until he was taking the man to his limit.

The air sang with soft, panting grunts as the man's pumping hips urged the Elf to
greater heights, and Legolas felt Aragorn's sweaty hand slide upon his belly as
the man took himself over the edge yet again. The sweat-drenched body beneath him
filled the Elf's senses with the fragrance of passion and Legolas inhaled deeply,
the heady scent reminding him of the salt spray of the sea, sending waves of
ecstasy through him as the tide of his climax broke within the king, 

Legolas collapsed onto the man, gently and ardently kissing the sweat from his
neck as they lay together, perfectly sated.  Legolas looked into the man's steel-
blue eyes, a smile playing upon his lips, and was met with Aragorn's familiar grin
as they celebrated the ageless victory of hope over time.


end