Title: Sweet Surrender
 
Author: Aelin
 
Rating: NC17, for....well, do I REALLY have to
go through why it's NC17??
 
Summary: Legolas and Aragorn are taking a quiet walk through
the woods, admiring the summer foliage. The adventure soon turns
to admiring some other things more beautiful.
 
Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Tolkien's.
 
Additional Disclaimer: I've made the love scenes as sweet, gentle, and 
as passionate as possible. NOT smut and definetly NOT all girly-girly.
For those of us who've experienced sex before, let us journey back
to that first wonderful night....;)
 
 
 
 
            Aragorn turned to his elven companion, green eyes bright with quiet joy. "The 
trees are mesmerizing this year, are they not?"
Legolas smiled. "Aye, they are." He lifted his face to the summer sun, closing his eyes in 
catlike contentment briefly. Aragorn was struck by how beautiful his countenance was at 
that moment. Or perhaps it had always been, and he had simply never noticed. At any 
rate, the elf had better open his eyes or he would trip.
       But as usual, Aragorn's thought claims were proven wrong. Just when it seemed 
Legolas would tumble headlong over a rather large tree root, he lifted his eyelids and 
stepped over it. The Ranger sighed in defeat.
Legolas turned. "What?"
"Nothing. I am only lamenting what rather pitifully passes for my balance and grace."
      The prince laughed. Aragorn thought he had never heard a sound so sweet in his life. 
It carried everything of nature in it, it seemed, and was full of quiet mirth. Easy, friend, a 
small voice nagged him. Stop admiring and start walking----
Whoops!
To his embarrassment, he stumbled over windfall and took three large, awkward strides 
before he could right himself again. Legolas gazed at him for a moment, lips curling up in 
what was unmistakably a smile. Quickly, he turned, but he could not restrain the small 
guffaw that burst past his lips. Aragorn gave a rueful smile.
"That is what I am referring to by my 'lack of grace' ."
"You poor, poor man," Legolas teased.
Aragorn raised his eyebrows. Indeed....
*
      The two made camp in a small glade, not even bothering to check for signs of malice 
or evil creatures. This section of forest was immune to invasions of the kind.
"Tea or mead?"
Legolas looked up at the man. "Mead," he smiled. "Always mead. How long have you 
know me, mellon? You should have figured this out by now."
Smiling once again, Aragorn turned and brought the mead to the elf. As he sipped it, he 
gazed up curiously at the sky. "It seems like rain," he frowned.
           No sooner had the words left his mouth than the heavens split open. With yells of 
surprise, the two made a dash for the nearest cave. Once inside, they collapsed against the 
wall, laughing hysterically. 
"Gods!" Aragorn choked. "I had a mind to bathe once I returned to my home, but not at 
this very moment!"
     His statement only brought more peals of laughter from the two. Aragorn's second 
round was interrrupted by a cough. Legolas immediately ceased to laugh and gazed at 
him closely. Another cough, and then a sneeze. He sighed.
"You are catching a cold."
"No, I am n...n...n...ah----CHOO!"
"Oh no?" Legolas moved to the man and quickly glanced at the floor. "Thank Illuvatar 
that the blankets are dry." He motioned to Aragorn. "Take your shirt off."
"I c...can't, it's s...s...stu...ah-CHOO!"
        Sighing, Legolas grasped the fabric and tugged. And tugged. And tugged. Finally, 
with one last yank, the tunic relinquished itself of its owner. Legolas threw it in a corner 
and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around the human and briskly rubbing him. "Here. 
This should take most of the....chill out...."
        His movements stopped as Aragorn touched the ties of his tunic. Gey-blue eyes 
locked with green. The Dunedain pulled slightly, and one knot came undone. Another 
slight pull, and the next knot came loose. One after the other he pulled gently, until the 
tunic slipped to the floor.
Neither moved.
        Then, with a hesitant movement, Legolas let his hand rest on Aragorn's cheek. The 
Ranger's soft beard tickled his palm. After a moment, he leaned forward, and softly, 
gently, uncertainly, pressed his lips against Aragorn's.
       The act was unexpected, yet not unwelcome. Unsure, Aragorn barely let his fingers 
graze the skin of the prince's arm, warm with the insulated heat from the cave. Outside, 
the rain beat down, which was the only sound for some minutes as the two kissed, 
cautiously exploring each other's mouth, just testing the waters. Finally, they broke away, 
and Legolas moved deeper into the recesses of the cave. Finding a spot, he gracefully 
crouched down and then sat, arms around his knees, looking at Aragorn. The man 
understood. Crossing over to the elf, he stood before him, eyes asking a silent question. 
Legolas nodded. At that, Aragorn loosed the ties that held up his breeches, and slowly let 
them fall.
            Legolas just gazed for some minutes. Then, in a quiet voice, he said, "You are 
beautiful."
Aragorn found himself blushing. How many women had said that line to him before? It 
should not arouse this kind of reaction. Yet it was no mortal that was stating this fact this 
time, but an elf. An elf that should be told this by a mortal, not an elf telling a mortal.
But the prince didn't notice, or if he did, he didn't mind. 
"Come here?"
       It was not a statement, but a question. A question that was unsure and yet wanting. 
Without a word, Aragorn did come over, kneeling beside the elf; staring into his eyes. 
Legolas laid back on the blankets, and the Ranger eased himself across the elf, trying not 
to hurt him. The prince shifted a little under the added weight, but did not protest. Unsure 
what to do next, now that they were both unclothed and ready, Aragorn gave a helpless 
half-smile. Legolas smiled softly back and spoke.
"You should know that have never done this before."
"With anyone?" Aragorn asked, looking surprised.
"Nay, of course not with anyone," Legolas laughed. "With a male."
"Is it....uncommon?"
"Uncommon? Nay, but it is rare to hear of it spoken, at the very least."
"....Oh."
         With that out of the way, Legolas caught the man's thick black curls in his fingers 
and brushed his lips across his. "But I would like to learn."
Aragorn gave a shy smile, eager, but a little nervous. Legolas smiled back at him softly. 
"Let me make this easier for you."
      With a gentleness that surprised the Dunedain coming from so skilled and deadly an 
archer, he took Aragorn in his hand and began to stroke him. Aragorn stiffened at once---
-physically and figuratively. Gods, but the elf was better than any woman he had ever 
lain with. He grew hard and hot, rigid as rock.
       Legolas watched the man and noted how he was. Which, needless to say, happened 
to be quite tense. Every now and then he twitched spasmodically.
After some moments Legolas stopped, and Aragorn breathed a visble sigh of relief, 
giving a half-smile. "Is this a foreboding of what is to come?"
      The prince made no answer, but said quietly, "Would you not now begin wih me what 
I have started with you?"
Aragorn still seemed hesitant. "Is....is it true," he began, "that elves are sensitive around 
the throat and tips of the ears?"
      Legolas remained silent. Evidently Aragorn was going to have to find out for himself. 
Leaning down, he lightly swiped his tongue along the smooth white column of Legolas's 
throat. The being in question gave a small gasp, arching into him. Apparently, they were 
very sensitive. Aragorn moved up and uncertainly nibbled the tip of one elegantly pointed 
ear. Legolas gave a shuddering sigh, a barely visible sheen of sweat in the hollow of his 
throat. Shyly curious, the man slipped the very tip of his tongue inside his ear. The elf 
twisted underneath him, mewing in pitiful, helpless pleasure. Laughing to himself, 
Aragorn drew away. Legolas sighed deeply.
"Cursed human. Must you discover my every weakness?"
Aragorn smiled. "It is my main objective. And besides, you started this."
"I---" Legolas began to protest.
     Aragorn did not let him finish. Instead, he leaned down and pressed his lips to the elf's 
in a passionate kiss. Their tongues met and entwined, each leading the other in a frenzied 
dance of new-discovered love. In the midst of it, Aragorn slid his hand down to Legolas's 
manhood and traced a finger lightly over the sensitive tip. Legolas bucked, expelling a 
muffled exclamation of surprise into Aragorn's mouth. Aragorn kissed him softer, 
murmuring in the High Tongue, "Hush, love."
"I don't....you can't....why do you....please...."
      Incoherent phrases tumbled from the elf's lips as Aragorn worked him, head tossing 
from side to side, lost in a delirious dream of sensations. On the brink of tears, about to 
cry for pleasure, he  suddenly felt Aragorn withdraw. Opening his eyes, half in relief and 
half in curiousity, he saw the Dunedain's bright eyes and immediately knew. Aragorn did 
not even half to ask, but he did anyway, in almost a whisper.
"May I be inside you?"
"....Yes."
      Easy, oh so easy, Aragorn slipped into the prince's secret place. Legolas flung his 
head back against the pile of blankets, utterly defeated.
"Ai...."
It was simply no use anymore resisting. He was bound. Chained. Caught like a hunted 
animal. Aragorn had him now, and from the feel of it, he did not plan to let him go 
anytime soon.
"Mmm...."
A quiet affirmation of pleasure escaped him. The skill, the courtesy, and the gentleness 
with which Aragorn made love to him undid him completely. 
     Suddenly he gave a cry and darted up---as well as he could with Aragorn there, 
anyway. The man ceased for a moment, concern etched across his features. "Have I hurt 
you?"
"No, oh gods no...." Legolas shut his eyes tightly and clutched the man by the back of the 
head, hands twining and untwining in his hair. Aragorn had found the spot that made him 
lose all control---the extremely sensitive spot that made all elves's lovemaking so 
pleasureable. Apparently Aragorn knew it. Indeed, he could feel a slight stirring in the elf 
that heralded something.
"Are you---" he began breathlessly.
"Yes, yes! Ai, Illuvatar, yes!"
     With a low cry, Aragorn spilled into the elf. Legolas mewed as a cat will when it is 
wanting attention and came not a minute after. For a moment the two simply rode each 
other, lost in the last few seconds of their climax. Then Legolas collapsed to the floor of 
the cave, and with another cry, Aragorn followed suit.
        At last, slowly, Legolas raised an arm and curled it about the trembling man's body, 
stroking his hair. Utterly spent, Aragorn could only breathe, desperately trying to get air 
into his lungs. Legolas let him rest, speaking soothing words of love in the Grey Tongue. 
Limply, Aragorn wrapped his arms about the elf's waist and laid his head on his chest, 
sleepily listening to his heart slow its tortured rhythm and return to normal. 
"Le hannon, meleth nin," Legolas murmured.
     Aragorn could not speak for weariness. He simply moved as close to the elf as was 
possible and closed his eyes. Legolas began to sing, a song that told of love found and 
kept, dreams realized, and desires fulfilled. As he listened, Aragorn dropped off.
       Legolas glanced out of the cave's entrance. The rain had stopped and the sun had 
come out again, bright and full of promise, just like their future together.
With that comforting thought, Legolas, too, slid into a peaceful sleep.
 
THE END