***************** 
Title: Dragon Fever 
Author: Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com 
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn; Legolas/Elwen; also Legolas/Smaug.  
Rating: NC-17 
Summary: Legolas tells Aragorn a story about a trip he once made to  
Esgaroth (Lake-town) with his lover, Elwen, a Rivendell elf.  But  
something is rotten in Esgaroth and Legolas is forced to strike an unusual  
bargain.   
A mix of adventure, romance, humor, angst, and hot sex.  
Disclaimer: The characters, settings, and languages used in this work  
are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and  
possibly New Line Cinema, except for Elwen and other original characters who  
belong to this author.  I make no money from this, more’s the pity,  
considering the number of hours burning the midnight oil. 
 
Archive: LOM yes. Other sites, please ask permission.  
 
Feedback: Greatly appreciated. Like it?  Tell me!  Give me incentive to  
write more. 
Author’s Note: This is actually both a prequel and a sequel to  
“Ohtarnil: A Warrior Love.”  www.libraryofmoria.com/legolasaragorn/ohtarnil.txt 
Chapter 1 is a sequel and takes place shortly after the Fellowship  
leaves Lothlórien.  However, most of the story takes place 73 years earlier  
when Legolas first becomes involved with my fictional character, Elwen.   
Warnings: Mild BDSM in a few chapters. Some non-consensual  
situations.(Chapters so marked.) 
 
Many thanks to beta Dhvana for advice, consultation, and moral support and to Caz also for beta 
reading. 
                                    
**************** 
              
Chapter 1 - Brief Solace 
 
Feb. 24, 3019 in the Third Age of Middle Earth  
 
Aragorn bent over, examining the ground for tracks. They were looking  
for traces of a path that would lead to the portage way around the  
rapids of Sarn Gebir. Legolas stood behind him, leaning lightly on his bow. 
 
"You know it’s quite distracting when you bend over like that," Legolas  
said, with a smile.  
 
"Then, don’t stand behind me, elf," Aragorn growled. He straightened  
up. "Let’s try climbing this ridge. I’ll wager we’ll see the trail from  
up there."  
 
They threaded their way through a maze of limestone boulders and clumps  
of thick bushes. The land was silent, except for the occasional harsh  
croak of a raven. Their footsteps, even soundless as an elf and a ranger  
could make them, still crunched loudly in Legolas’s ears. The elf  
turned his head this way and that, scrying for danger. He sensed small  
pinpricks of warning, but they were still far distant.  
 
Much stronger he sensed Aragorn’s fear and doubt. He longed to reach  
out to him, take him in his arms. But Aragorn seemed determined to keep  
to himself. After those glorious two days of lovemaking in the hidden  
talan of Vilyamar in Lothlórien, Aragorn had not once touched him.  
Legolas knew Aragorn did not wish to reveal their relationship to the rest of  
the Fellowship. That, as well as the tension within the group, troubled  
Legolas. But, he had decided, his role was to follow Aragorn’s lead,  
unquestioningly. He took on that role when he had pledged to become  
ohtarnil* to Aragorn at Vilyamar.  
 
An ohtarnil was a warrior bound to another by an oath of love. Legolas  
wondered when the elves first had developed this tradition? Love and  
war were such opposite concepts. During a war, the opportunities for  
lovemaking were scant, as all energy seemed focused on preventing death, or  
dealing it out. But perhaps the elves of the Elder Days were wise after  
all, seasoned from the war with Morgoth, of whom the dark lord Sauron  
was but a servant. Perhaps, in the midst of brutality, one needed a  
respite, a tender touch, the knowledge that there were things worth  
fighting and dying for.  
 
What he wouldn’t give for days of peace, where he could linger under  
the trees, stroking Estel, taking time to leisurely make love to him!  
Ironically, Legolas knew, if days of peace came to pass, he would lose  
Aragorn to another. The expression of his love was only possible while all  
the world lay in deadly peril; and while they were in peril, he could  
not express his love. He sighed heavily.  
 
Aragorn stopped and looked back at him. "What’s wrong, Legolas?" he  
asked. 
 
"Nothing, why do you ask?"  
 
"I heard you sigh." 
 
"You hear naught but the wind’s fleeting lament, my captain," Legolas  
said, coming close to him. Aragorn brushed the back of his hand gently  
along Legolas’s cheek, a look of infinite tenderness in his eyes. The  
elf felt his heart sing at his touch. Was that all he could hope for? An  
occasional gentle touch, when no one was looking? Aragorn turned and  
continued up the slope. They struggled through a small thicket, finally  
freeing themselves from the clinging branches, and burst onto the ridge  
top.  
 
Legolas shaded his eyes, scanning the landscape for evidence of the  
path. On their left, he could see the great Anduin river, with white spots  
revealing the turbulence of the Sarn Gebir rapids. On the right, the  
land widened to a flat, boulder-strewn wilderness. Not much cover here,  
Legolas thought. We shouldn’t stay too long in this exposed spot. 
 
"There," the elven prince exclaimed. "Look, Aragorn!" Far below,  
roughly following the line of the river, they could see a thin line devoid of  
trees. 
 
"I see it, now," Aragorn said. "How lucky! We’ve only this ridge to  
climb. It’s not far from where the boats are, at all. Let’s find the best  
way down to it." 
 
He seemed lighter, as if it could relax briefly, now that this small  
hurdle had been surmounted. They both began rapidly descending the ridge  
down to the path. 
 
"Yes, but I still expect it’ll be difficult carrying the boats up  
here," said the elf, taking short, rapid steps down the steep slope. "We’ve  
some hours hard work ahead of us." 
 
They reached the path. It was fairly wide and well-worn. A good track.  
 
"We can follow this back and see where the shortest route to our boats  
lies," Legolas said. 
 
"My thought, exactly," said Aragorn. He strode down the path. Legolas  
trailed behind him. "I heard that remark, by the way, about how  
distracting my backside was," Aragorn turned to look at him. "Therefore, you  
had better lead." 
 
Legolas stopped, smiled slowly. "Why? Are you better able to handle the  
distraction *my* rear would provide?" 
 
"If you think your rear is so comely that it would cause me to think  
unseemly thoughts, then . . . you are right." Aragorn laughed. He looked  
into the elf’s azure eyes for a long minute.  
 
"Estel," Legolas said, "I confess that these last two fortnights,  
constantly in your presence, and no opportunity to sate my hunger for you,  
has been a strange kind of torture. But I will obey your will in these  
matters." Legolas turned to go. Aragorn laid a hand on his arm. 
 
"Indeed," Aragorn said softly, "you think I haven’t felt it. I hunger  
for you every second of every day." Suddenly he swept the elf into his  
arms and kissed him passionately. Legolas initially surprised, returned  
the kiss, opening his mouth to Aragorn’s rough lips. The elf felt his  
blood heat up, and a quickening in his loins, as Aragorn began kissing  
his face, frantically, then returning to his mouth.  
 
"Ohtarnil, my love," Aragorn whispered. "We have the briefest of  
respites right now. I know not what will come tomorrow; I fear grief and  
doom. I would have the warriors’ comfort that you spoke of when we made our  
pledge to each other at Vilyamar." 
 
They both sank to their knees in a deep drift of dead leaves by the  
side of the path. "Right here, my captain?" Legolas asked.  
 
"Are we in danger? What do your elvish senses tell you?" Aragorn said,  
looking around. 
 
"That, for the present, we are in no danger from orcs. But you are in  
danger of being ravished by an elf!" Legolas pulled Aragorn’s pack off  
his back, then pushed him to the ground and sat on him. He pulled his  
bow, quiver, and pack off over his arm and tossed them to the side.  
 
Then he bent and kissed Aragorn tenderly, the kiss deepening, as they  
gave in to their desire. As they kissed, the elf rocked his hips into  
the man’s groin. The ranger moaned and reached up to pull Legolas closer.  
 
"We don’t have time to do this properly," whispered the elf. "But it  
will still feel good." He rolled off Aragorn and then pulled aside the  
two flaps of the ranger’s leather jerkin and untied the laces on his  
breeches. He reached around the rough linen of the loincloth and located  
the man’s stiffening cock, which he pulled free from the material. He  
stroked it gently to its full length, then engulfed it in his mouth, and  
began moving up and down. Aragorn’s large erection pressed on the back  
of his throat. He curled his tongue lovingly around it. 
 
"Oh, gods, I’ve missed your sweet mouth," Aragorn groaned. "But stop,  
for a moment." He grabbed Legolas’s legs and pulled him around so that  
his hips were at Aragorn’s head. "I want to give you the same pleasure."  
The ranger also pushed past the layers of clothes to withdraw the elf’s  
member. Then he put his hands behind Legolas’s rear and drew him close  
so that he could take him into his mouth. Legolas emitted a low cry  
when he felt the wet heat closing around him.  
 
They lay on their sides, occupied with giving pleasure. Aragorn pumped  
his hips, pushing himself rhythmically into Legolas’s mouth. The elf  
took him in deeply, sucking and tonguing the ranger’s throbbing organ,  
and gently caressing his balls. Finally, Aragorn let the elf slip out of  
his mouth, the elf’s erection grazing his cheek. He thrust harder and  
then gave a deep, guttural moan, as his seed surged into the elf’s  
throat. Legolas swallowed several times, and then licked the ranger’s  
softening organ gently. Aragorn shuddered, and closing his hand around the  
elf’s rock-hard member, he lay quiet a moment.  
 
"By the Valar, you do that so well," the ranger sighed. "I have missed  
that. Now it’s your turn." He claimed Legolas once again, moving his  
mouth hard and fast, while Legolas writhed and thrashed in the dry leaves  
until he, too, culminated with a breathy cry. His heart pounded as a  
wave of pleasure pulsed through his body.  
 
They lay still for a time. Then both fumbled at their pants, putting  
their clothes back in order. Legolas laid his head on Aragorn’s stomach  
with a sigh, feeling relaxed and content for the first time in weeks. He  
looked up at the trees soaring high above, seeming to lean in toward  
each other, their bare branches interlaced with patches of blue sky. This  
sheltered place, facing south, was a little warmer than the bare hills  
up above. He could smell the sap running, see the tiny buds of green  
leaves breaking free of their winter prison.  
 
"Aragorn," he exclaimed, "spring is coming!"  
 
"Yes, but to what hope, I do not know," Aragorn said. He reached down  
and threaded his fingers in Legolas’s silky hair. "Thank you, lirimaer,*  
for that brief moment of pleasure. You don’t know how I treasure these  
moments. They are my solace when we are traveling. I steer my boat,  
occasionally look back, catch a glimpse of your face, and I remember our  
two passionate nights in Lothlórien. It eases my soul." 
 
"I *do* know," Legolas replied. "As I do the same. I draw on the  
library of my life’s experience and relive them in my head as we go. It is  
almost as good as actual experience. But not quite." He reached up and  
stroked Aragorn’s face. Aragorn caught his hand and kissed the palm.  
 
"We’d best go back and get started on the portage. Gods, I curse every  
step that takes me closer to Mordor," Aragorn said.  
 
Legolas sat up and turned to look at the ranger still lying in the dry  
leaves. "Don’t let it trouble you right now," Legolas said. "You don’t  
know what tomorrow may bring. Let the Valar guide your path. But for  
now, perhaps I can tell you a story as we walk that may divert you, maybe  
even more than the sight of my arse." Legolas grinned.  
 
"You’re on," Aragorn said and got to his feet. "Come friend," he held a  
hand out to Legolas and helped him up. "What is the story about?"  
 
"Passion, greed, dragons, the folly of men. All the good stuff," said  
Legolas. "Our river trip has brought it to mind. It was 73 years ago.  
Five years after the fall of the dragon, Smaug, and in the summer when I  
first met my lover, Elwen." Aragorn draped his arm over the elf’s  
shoulders as they walked up the portage trail back to the rest of the  
Fellowship. 
 
"Go on," Aragorn said. 
 
******************* 
 
*ohtar - warrior; nil - lover or friend in Quenya 
 
*lirimaer - lovely one 
 
********************* 
 
- TBC -


****************** 
Title: Dragon Fever by Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com 
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn; Legolas/Elwen; also Legolas/Smaug.  
Overall rating: NC17.  This chapter: R 
For Disclaimers, etc. see Chapter 1 
************************ 
 
Chapter 2 - The Dragon’s Curse 
 
Late August, 2946 in the Third Age of Middle Earth 
 
******* 
 
"Are you ready for a ride, Elwen?" Legolas asked. 
 
"Anytime you are," his companion replied. Elwen turned and looked back  
at Legolas with a grin. His jet black hair blew wildly in the wind.  
Legolas noticed that a strand of it caught and lingered against Elwen’s  
mouth.  
 
"Let me get into position," Legolas said, and dug his paddle into the  
swiftly flowing current of the Forest River. The bottom of the wooden  
canoe began to vibrate, feeling as if a whole school of small fishes were  
moving just underneath it. The sound of roaring water increased as they  
shot forward into the rapids. The tops of the green waves were tipped  
with white foam, like aging dwarves’ beards. Legolas steered them  
purposefully toward the roughest water. Ahead the river roared around a 
wide curve in the cliff face.  
 
"Here we go," Legolas yelled gleefully, as the boat picked up speed,  
and then bounced forward, hitting hard between bounces. Elwen shipped 
his paddle and hung onto the sides. Legolas steered the boat skillfully  
around a series of boulders. Several large waves curled in place near the  
rocks ahead. The blond elf nosed the canoe into the arc of the wave,  
leaned hard into the turn, and surfed down its curving face. The spray  
drenched them both.  
 
"Aiiii, yaaaah!" Legolas and Elwen howled like wargs.  
 
********** 
 
Talagan, King Thranduil’s seneschal, paddled his canoe on the far side  
of the river where the water was quieter. He mournfully watched his two  
charges nearly overturn their boat as they whipped around the bend of  
the river. He knew shouting a warning would be useless, as he had been  
doing it all day. Corraling the headstrong prince was a full-time job.  
 
"Look at those two," he said to Thrin, his bowman. "You’d think they  
were on a holiday. If they flip that boat, we could lose half our  
supplies." 
 
"What’re you going to do?" Thrin shrugged. "He’s the prince. He  
outranks us." 
 
"He’s supposed to obey me. I know the King told him that before we  
left." Talagan frowned and squinted at the late afternoon sun. Prince  
Legolas and his dark-haired companion were almost out of sight, but he 
could still hear their delighted shouts even over the steady roar of the  
river. 
 
"Ah, Talagan, let them have some fun," Thrin said. "Legolas has been  
itching to get out from under his father’s control all summer." 
 
"You’re not the one who will face King Thranduil’s wrath if something  
happens," Talagan said. He distinctly remembered his last audience with  
the king before they left.  
 
Thranduil was seated at the table in his library. Scrolls of parchment  
littered the table. He was reading and signing documents. "Come in,  
Talagan." He beckoned to his chief administrator without lifting his eyes  
to look at him. Sunlight streamed in from a round tunneled window  
carved in the living rock high up the wall. It illuminated the thick  
fingerlike formations that hung from the ceiling, the last drips of water 
that once trembled on their ends, now frozen forever in stone. Dustmotes  
danced in the sunbeam surrounding King Thranduil’s leonine head of 
blond hair. He glanced up, sapphire-blue eyes piercing Talagan.  
 
"I trust the trade agreement with Esgaroth was prepared to your liking,  
my lord?" Talagan said. 
 
"As always, your work is quite satisfactory." The king paused and  
tapped his lips with the quill. "Talagan, don’t you think it odd that it has  
taken the people of Esgaroth so long to rebuild after the fall of the  
dragon, even after all our help?"  
 
"Perhaps men aren’t as industrious as elves," Talagan ventured.  
 
The king sighed and threw his quill down on the table. "Trade  
agreements! Reports on numbers of wine barrels or bolts of cloth shipped! 
Fah! This is the part of being a king that I find the most tedious. I am glad  
you are here to smooth the way for me. But you must get weary of  
administrative tasks yourself." 
 
"My lord?" Talagan inquired. He knew the king well enough to know that  
he was about to be asked to do something not in line with the usual  
duties of sitting at a desk copying documents, supplying the king with  
reports, or settling endless household squabbles. He much preferred  
working on his remedies and consulting the stars.  
 
"I needed someone to take the agreement back to Esgaroth and make some  
final adjustments. Legolas has requested the errand. I have decided to  
grant his wish, as he seems restless, and it’s time he was taking more  
responsibility." The king tapped the table with long fingers. Talagan  
thought, not for the first time, how much he looked like his younger  
son, Legolas. Like and yet not so; where Legolas’s face was kind,  
Thranduil’s was cold. He was a king secure in his strength, and not to be  
trifled with. Talagan awaited his pleasure. 
 
"I want you to go with him to Esgaroth, Talagan," the king said. "Keep  
him out of trouble, which he has a way of finding. And I believe that  
new companion of his, that Elwen from Elrond’s household, is going on  
this trip also. I have no authority over him and cannot say no, but I  
sense," and he looked carefully at Talagan, "that Elwen has taken an  
interest in my son beyond mere friendship. I do not believe it has gone  
anywhere yet, and I want it to stay that way. Have I made myself  
understood?" 
 
"Perfectly, my lord." Talagan bowed. "When do I start?" 
 
"Tomorrow," the king said, and he went back to frowning at his scrolls.  
 
But, as Talagan now watched Legolas and Elwen cavorting through the  
rapids, he had a feeling that he was not going to escape Thranduil’s wrath  
this time.  
 
******** 
 
Now that they were through the roughest water, Elwen pulled his paddle  
off the floor of the canoe and dipped it back in the water. What a  
great day this had been! He felt so alive when he was with Legolas! He  
turned to look at the prince who was leaning back with his eyes closed,  
enjoying the sun on his face. Elwen felt a familiar jolt in his groin,  
sensed every time he gazed at the high cheekbones, strong jawline, and  
straight dark brows of Legolas’s fair face. The prince’s beauty was  
remarkable even among elves, the fairest folk of Middle Earth.  
 
Elwen had fallen for that face, and equally comely body, from the  
moment he laid eyes on the elf two months ago. Elrond had sent Elwen as 
part of a delegation from Imladris to enjoy the summer games Thranduil 
had instituted to keep his warriors sharp. Elwen began watching one  
particularly lovely archer with interest, admiring his grace and technique, 
and cheering as loudly as anyone when he beat out all his rivals to take  
the prize for greatest skill with a bow. He had gone to congratulate the  
winner, shook his hand, looked into his jewel-blue eyes, and at that  
moment, Elwen realized that his heart was no longer his. It was only  
later that he learned who the beautiful young archer was. 
 
Elwen had managed to attract Legolas’s attention at the banquet that  
night in an informal music competition. The Imladris elf had a talent for  
playing the fiddle and singing. Legolas had asked him to sit with him  
afterward, and in the course of the conversation, requested that Elwen  
tutor him in music. Elwen agreed, in return for archery lessons. They  
had been together every day since, even though the rest of Elwen’s party  
had already departed for Imladris.  
 
As Elwen had come to know Legolas, his infatuation only deepened. The  
prince was remarkable: quick, intelligent, compelling. Legolas  
constantly challenged him to risk more, attempt new feats, whether it was  
guessing riddles, fencing, or shooting rapids on the Forest River. Elwen 
knew he would follow Legolas down a dragon’s throat.  
 
Lately, Elwen’s dreams, both waking and sleeping, were of tasting  
Legolas’s curved lips, slipping his hands down the prince’s muscular 
body, burying himself deep within him. The dark-haired elf had made 
some discreet inquiries among the palace staff and had learned only that 
the prince’s most recent love affair had been with an elf-woman from 
Lórien. Unsure of Legolas’s inclinations, Elwen was unwilling to declare 
his love and risk losing the prince’s companionship.  
 
He thought, how much longer can I keep this secret? It burns my soul!  
If only Legolas would give me a sign, the slightest sign that he would  
be receptive to a physical relationship. . . . Elwen sighed, and dug  
vigorously at the water with his paddle. Soon. It must be soon, as I can’t  
delay going back to Imladris too much longer. 
 
******** 
 
The river widened and flattened out. Legolas glanced back to see  
Talagan and Thrin far behind. 
 
He grinned. "Guess we’ve outrun my father’s watchdogs." 
 
"They’re just following orders. Maybe you ought to play along more,"  
suggested Elwen. 
 
"Forget it. I’m an adult and Father treats me like an elfling. I will  
do as I please," Legolas said, a bit haughtily. "And besides, it’s  
rather fun making Talagan nervous." 
 
The river curved around eastward, gathered speed again, and then  
suddenly they were flung into a an immense oval lake, shaped like a spear  
point. The current continued to sweep them along. Legolas shaded his 
eyes with his long hand, looked to the south, and could just make out the  
dam where the lake water poured over the spillway into a roaring falls  
below. The air shook with the sound. To the north, he could see the  
rotting pilings of the old town of Esgaroth, destroyed five years ago when  
the dying dragon had fallen on it.  
 
"Elwen," Legolas said suddenly, "let’s go see what has become of old  
Smaug, eh? Last time I was here, I was involved in the battle and had no  
chance to see where the nasty old worm fell. They say he had a belly  
encrusted with jewels. Maybe we’ll see some." 
 
"Given the market for dragon bones, and particularly the teeth, I’d be  
surprised if the Lakemen hadn’t salvaged all of it, including the  
jewels," Elwen said. "I’ll wager none of the worm is left." 
 
"Why? What do they use the bones and teeth for?" asked Legolas. 
 
"Valar’s wisdom, don’t you know?" Elwen said. "They make a powerful  
medicine when ground into a powder. They say it can cure almost 
anything. And of course, it would be extremely scarce these days, 
wouldn’t it, owing to the general lack of dragons, and the difficulty of 
killing one, even if one could be found. Any remains of old Smaug would 
be worth more than their weight in gold." 
 
"Let’s see, anyway. I’m even more curious now," Legolas said, paddling  
swiftly toward the remnants of the town that, five years earlier, had  
been a thriving community built on piles out onto the lake. Soon they  
could clearly see the ends of burnt timbers sticking out of the water  
like rotted old teeth. Only one small section of the pier had survived,  
still with the remains of several burnt houses perched on top. They  
glided through the timbers and peered down into the deep blue water.  
 
Elwen bent low over the gunnel, his hair, glinting with blue  
highlights, cascaded down his back. For a brief moment, Legolas 
imagined the feel of that silky hair caressing his thighs as Elwen took him 
into his mouth. He smiled. These thoughts were becoming more frequent. 
Then, he sensed something new, of an unpleasant lurking nature. 
 
"Legolas," Elwen warned, "this place feels strange to me, like some  
foul, brooding thing. I don’t like it."  
 
"I feel it also," Legolas said. "Wait a minute. I think I see  
something. Yes, just there, huge leg bones, a rib cage and a backbone, and  
there, out into deeper water, perhaps the skull." Legolas thought he might  
try diving in to get a closer look. He started to draw off his jerkin.  
 
Suddenly, the prince felt a sense of overwhelming evil wash over him.  
He was intensely sick to his stomach. As he doubled over, clutching his  
abdomen, he heard a deep, hissing voice. 
 
"Such a brave, little elf," it said. "So cocky, as you come to look  
upon my ruin, with such thoughts of the pleasures of the flesh! Know that  
if you dare come closer, you will cause the death of your loved one and  
you will die with that knowledge in your heart." The voice laughed,  
ending on a high, wheezing note. An icy fear gripped him.  
 
Legolas heard retching sounds, managed to look up, and saw Elwen  
hanging over the side of the boat, violently ill. The dark-haired elf raised  
his head long enough to gasp, "Legolas, got to leave. Now!"  
 
With great difficulty, Legolas reached for the paddle. He was dizzy  
with an intense headache and he feared he would be as sick as Elwen any  
minute. He dug the paddle into the water, threw his whole shoulder into  
the stroke, then another stroke, and another. As he put more distance  
between them and the dragon carcass, the sickness began to lessen. Elwen  
finally sat up and began paddling as if a host of orcs were after them.  
They only slowed when the ruined town was far in the distance and their  
heads had cleared. 
 
"By the Valar," Elwen groaned, "that was terrible. I never want to feel  
like that again. Now we know why the Lakemen haven’t salvaged the  
bones." He grabbed a water skin and rinsed his mouth out, spitting into the  
lake.  
 
"It seems the nasty old worm has had a last laugh on his killers,"  
Legolas said. "Imagine their frustration at having a fortune buried under  
them and unable to touch it."  
 
Then Legolas saw Thrin and Talagan coming steadily toward them. They  
had made a wide berth around the ruined town. They reached them and  
pulled alongside. Talagan had a grim smile on his face.  
 
"I gather you two miscreants had a taste of Smaug’s Curse," he said. "I  
could have warned you, if you hadn’t run off." 
 
"What do you mean, if we hadn’t run off, Talagan? You were just too  
slow," teased Legolas. "What do you have in that boat weighing you down  
so? Perhaps you sampled too many cakes during the feast days last week." 
 
"Impertinent," sputtered Talagan. Thrin hid a smile behind his hand.  
 
"Shall we go on to Esgaroth?" Legolas said. "You may lead the way,  
Talagan." The prince made a deferential flourish with his hand. The  
seneschal clicked his tongue in annoyance and then paddled away. As 
soon as his back was turned, Legolas and Elwen were smiling at each 
other, their unpleasant experience with Smaug’s bones forgotten. 
 
*********** 
 
Esgaroth had been rebuilt around a bend of the shoreline and out of  
sight of the old town. As there was no longer any need for the town to be  
built in the lake as a protection from the dragon, it had been  
relocated onto the shore. A long wooden pier jutted out into the water, 
along which a variety of boats and rafts were moored. The Lakemen relied 
on the water commerce coming down the River Running from the Lonely  
Mountain, now inhabited by Dain and a host of busy dwarves; and from 
the newly rebuilt town of Dale; and from the Elven kingdom. Men farmed 
vast fields nearby, including the Dorwinion vineyards where the grapes 
were grown to create the sweet and potent wine so loved by King 
Thranduil. These were also traded at Esgaroth. The town, so long 
devastated, was finally prospering again in the wake of the dragon’s 
demise.  
 
A bell rang in a tower on the pier as they approached. Soon a half  
dozen canoes shot into the water, paddled by youngsters. As they  
approached, Legolas heard their high pitched voices, crying excitedly, 
"Elves! Elves from Mirkwood!"  
 
**************** 
 
- TBC - 


Title: Dragon Fever by Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com 
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn; Legolas/Elwen; also Legolas/Smaug.  
Overall rating: NC17.  This chapter: PG13 
For Disclaimers, etc. see Chapter 1 
****************************************** 
 
Chapter 3 - The Dragon’s Bane Inn  
 
Meril sat on the pier next to her older sister Nissa. Business at their  
inn had been slow of late, so their brother, Goran, had sent them to  
drum up some customers. But Meril didn’t mind at all. It was so much  
better to be outside, feeling the wind in her hair, with the possibility of  
meeting interesting strangers, than being cooped up in the inn, serving  
drinks, cleaning, or making beds. Here she could dream of leaving  
Esgaroth, of paddling her canoe to distant lands. Suddenly she grabbed her  
sister’s arm. "Oh Nissa," she said, "‘tis our lucky day. Look what’s  
coming!" They both stood up and watched Legolas and his party mooring  
their canoes to the dock.  
 
Nissa caught her breath. "Elves! Four of them. Three blond and look, a  
dark-haired one! Oh gods, Meril, they’re lovely."  
 
"Elves are always attractive, but by the Valar, look at that one!"  
Meril said, pointing at Legolas. "He’s gorgeous. Like a god." Her heart  
soared just to look at him. He and the raven-haired elf were so tall,  
taller, she figured, than any of the men at Esgaroth.  
 
Nissa shook her head, "Nay, I prefer the dark-haired one. I’ve never  
seen one with hair so black before. He must be a different type. So  
handsome! I’m in love." She laughed and fluttered her hand against her  
chest. 
 
"As if they’d even be interested in the likes of us," sighed Meril.  
"when they probably have lovely elf-maidens waiting at home." 
 
"Maybe not, and maybe they like variety. I’ve heard that elves and  
humans mix sometimes," Nissa said. "Gods, they’re coming this way."  
 
"Come on, Nissa, they may not know it yet, but these elves are  
definitely staying at the Dragon’s Bane," Meril said.  
 
************ 
 
The elves had climbed up a ladder onto the dock and were looking  
around. "Talagan, you and Thrin should stay with the boats, while Elwen 
and I find a place to stay," Legolas said.  
 
"I’d recommend The Stork’s Nest. It’s located near the market place."  
said Talagan, "It’s quite comfortable and the fare is reasonable."  
 
"Good afternoon, sirs. I couldn’t help overhearing," called a young  
woman, "would ye be looking for a place to stay the night?"  
 
They turned at the sound of her voice. Legolas saw two girls standing  
next to each other. They looked about seventeen or eighteen. The one who  
had spoken was taller and slim, with reddish blond hair, and blue eyes.  
The other was a bit heavier, and had dark brown hair, and hazel eyes.  
Both of them had their hair plaited in long braids. They were pretty, in  
the ephemeral manner of young human females, with pink cheeks, bright  
eyes, and moist lips. Legolas had observed that, all too soon, such  
attractiveness faded to a brown sameness as they became overwhelmed 
with the toil and sorrows of the mortal life.  
 
Legolas walked over to the young women. He bowed slightly. "Ladies," 
he said. "Do you have a recommendation for a lodging, then? We are new 
to this town since it was rebuilt."  
 
The taller girl blushed deeply. "My family owns The Dragon’s Bane,  
which I can truthfully say is the finest inn at New Esgaroth. It is also  
located near the market place, closer than The Stork’s Nest, and we are  
well known for our spiced wine and fruit pies. And our father is the  
head of the Merchant’s Guild, so ya will be in the most advantageous 
place to trade your goods, if that is yer purpose." 
 
"You hear that, Talagan? Willing to try something new?" Legolas called.  
 
"As m’lord wishes," Talagan said grumpily. Legolas looked at Elwen, 
who was grinning. 
 
"He said ‘m’lord?’" whispered the shorter girl, grabbing the other  
girl’s arm.  
 
"We’ll go and see if the Inn is everything the lady promises," Legolas  
said. "If so, we’ll come back to help carry our supplies." He and Elwen  
shouldered packs and then turned to the girls. "Ladies, lead on." he  
said. He couldn’t understand why the shorter one suppressed a giggle and  
the taller one hit her in the shoulder.  
 
"What are your names?" Elwen asked, as they followed the girls through  
a series of narrow, busy streets.  
 
"I am Meril," the taller girl said, "and this my sister, Nissa." 
 
"Meril," said Legolas. "Elvish for rose." 
 
"Aye," Meril blushed again. "My mother loved the elvish language. But  
she died birthing me. My name was almost the last thing she said." 
 
"It was well bestowed," Legolas said gravely. "I have always liked  
roses. The ones in my father’s garden are truly magnificent in the  
springtime."  
 
Meril looked at him sidelong. "And what might ye be called?" she asked. 
 
"I am Legolas, which is green leaf, and my companion here is Elwen, the  
drunken star." 
 
"My friend takes liberties." Elwen said, "The meaning is whirling star,  
but can also mean giddy, not drunk." He gave Legolas a slight shove. 
 
"I can see that ye are old friends." Meril laughed. "And here we are."  
 
They had reached a large open square filled with stalls and vendors  
selling a variety of goods. The streets were crowded with Lakemen, 
people from other regions, and a large party of dwarves. Around the 
perimeter of the square, two-story houses, built of wood with straw-
thatched roofs, were packed close together. Legolas and Elwen were 
standing outside one of the largest houses. It had a sign swinging from the 
upper story on which was painted a golden fire-breathing dragon; its 
toothy mouth appeared to be eating the words, The Dragon’s Bane. 
 
Meril pushed open the heavy oak door and they went inside. To Legolas,  
the place smelled of sap from freshly cut wood, mixed with the smell of  
bread baking, and spiced wine. He inhaled deeply. Then he noticed Meril  
smiling at him. To the left was a large desk with a ledger sitting on  
it. They could hear men’s laughter in the next room and the clink of  
glasses. Meril stepped up behind the desk and opened the ledger. "Would 
ya like to register?" she asked. 
 
"I would like to see the rooms first," Legolas said. "If you don’t  
mind." 
 
A young man entered the room. He was slender, well-built, and  
attractive, with coppery brown hair shorn off at the shoulders, and a 
closely cropped beard. But he had a hard, calculating expression that 
marred his good looks. He stopped, his mouth popping open for a 
moment. Then he seemed to recover his composure and glided toward 
them. "Ah, good, Meril and Nissa. We have guests?" 
 
"Aye, Goran. This is Legolas and Elwen of Mirkwood," Meril said.  
 
Both elves inclined their heads. "My pardon, good lady," said Elwen,  
"but I am not of Mirkwood, but rather from Imladris, which is also called  
Rivendell." 
 
"I have not heard of that place," said Goran. "But ye are welcome  
here." He smiled broadly and his eyes flicked up and down Legolas.  
 
"I was just going to show them a room, so they could decide if they  
want to stay here," said Meril.  
 
"I will do that," Goran said hastily. "Ya can watch the desk. This way,  
my good elves." 
 
*********** 
 
Meril and Nissa watched them go up the stairs. "Uh oh," Meril said. "I  
think our brother is smitten too." 
 
"Shh," said Nissa, "that kind of talk is dangerous." 
 
"Ya know as well as I that Goran’s tastes don’t run to women," said  
Meril. "I hope he behaves himself." 
 
"Aye, let’s hope so. We both know the penalty for engaging in . . . in  
*that* sort of behavior," said Nissa. "I don’t think even father could  
protect him if he’s caught again. Ya remember how he almost got caught  
last time with that boy from Dale. If ya hadn’t covered for him . . .  
well, I fear what might have happened. Do ya think he’d try anything  
with our elves?" 
 
"I wouldn’t worry. Legolas and Elwen look quite capable of taking care  
of themselves. They move like swordsmen." Meril sighed.  
 
 
 
"Meril, did ya see Elwen’s eyes?" Nissa cooed. "He has violet eyes.  
Violet! And such long, black eyelashes. I’ve never seen anyone like him." 
 
"Aye, they’re both quite beautiful. And that other elf, the one with  
the sour expression on his face, he called Legolas, my lord," said Meril.  
"I wonder if Legolas is royalty? I must find out. I want to know  
everything about him." 
 
"Meril, ya know the festival is tomorrow night. Maybe we can get them  
to go with us," said Nissa. 
 
They grabbed each other’s arms and burst into laughter.
************************* 
 
- TBC - 
************************ 
Title: Dragon Fever by Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com 
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn; Legolas/Elwen; also Legolas/Smaug.  
Overall rating: NC17.  This chapter: NC-17 
For Disclaimers, etc. see Chapter 1 
************************ 
 
Chapter 4 - Elwen’s Admission (NC-17) 
 
Goran led Legolas and Elwen upstairs, chattering about the good  
location of the inn, how close to the market; how good their food was; 
how airy the rooms were. At the end of the hall, he opened a door on the 
right hand side. The room had high beamed ceilings and freshly 
whitewashed walls. As they entered, they could see two low beds, side by 
side, against the wall. A wardrobe and a small table, with a basin and ewer 
sitting atop it, stood next to the beds. On the far end of the room was a  
fireplace. On the opposite side, was a heavy wooden table, and three  
overstuffed leather chairs. Near the table, there was an alcove covered 
with a long set of curtains. Goran went over to it and threw them open,  
revealing a window seat in the recess, and a many-paned window that  
overlooked a garden.  
 
"This looks fine," said Legolas. "What about the other room?" They went  
to the other side of the corridor and Goran opened the door. This room  
looked out onto an alley along the side of the Inn. "Talagan and Thrin  
can have this one, and we’ll take the other one," Legolas said. 
 
"Very good, sir," said Goran. They went back across the hall. This room  
was quieter, more remote from the noise of the street. 
 
"Can a bath be brought up here?" asked Legolas.  
 
"Aye, of course, with hot water," Goran smiled, "I can see to it,  
myself." Legolas detected an unusual interest in his voice. The prince  
looked steadily into the young man’s eyes. Goran shifted his gaze away. 
 
"Please do so," Legolas said. "It’s been a long trip."  
 
"I’ll leave ya to unpack," said Goran. "If ya need something, pull that  
bell rope." And bowing slightly, he left. 
 
Legolas and Elwen both dropped their canvas bags. Legolas sat in one of  
the leather chairs and flung a leg over the armrest. "Ah, this is  
fine," he said. He looked up at Elwen, who was regarding him intently. 
"It’s good to be here with you, my friend," Legolas said. For a minute 
their glances locked and Legolas sensed tension between them. He knew 
Elwen felt affection for him. Lately, he had thought it might be something  
more, and he found himself warming to the idea. 
 
Elwen came over to the chair and clapped Legolas on the shoulder. "I  
cannot tell you how much I’ve enjoyed the last two months," he said.  
"It’s a pity that I’ll have to leave soon after we return from this trip." 
 
"Then we’ll have to make the time count," Legolas said. He could feel  
Elwen’s hand tremble. The prince looked up at the Elwen’s face and  
realized that he found the dark-haired elf beautiful. Legolas allowed his  
gaze to linger on the angular cheekbones, his strong, straight nose,  
arched brows, his full, expressive lips, long, black hair. Then he glanced  
down to the broad shoulders, that tapered to a slender waist, and long  
legs. He had seen Elwen naked on several occasions. The sight had  
pleased him at the time, but the memory of it now stirred him.  
 
Legolas stood, facing Elwen. He reached up and brushed a thin braided  
lock of raven hair away from his face. He heard Elwen’s quick intake of  
breath, and that, too, pleased him. For an instant, he imagined  
touching his mouth to those luscious lips. Legolas didn’t know why he 
didn’t act on the impulse. But perhaps it was not wise to change the  
relationship, he thought. He knew his father’s feelings on the subject.  
 
"Well," Legolas said, "we shouldn’t keep Talagan waiting any longer.  
He’ll be fuming as it is. Let’s go help bring in our supplies." As  
Legolas moved past him, he heard Elwen sigh.  
 
************ 
 
Several hours later, Legolas leaned his head back on the lip of a metal  
tub that Goran had brought to their room. The hot water steamed  
pleasantly against his skin. He contemplated a glass of dark red wine in his  
hand. Elwen sat on a chair, kicking one leg idly, and also drinking some  
wine. Talagan was in the other chair, scrolls of parchment laid out on  
the table. Thrin sat on the window seat fashioning little pieces of  
paper into birds.  
 
Legolas was more annoyed than usual with Talagan, as the seneschal had  
been extremely displeased with the room arrangement, suggesting that  
Elwen room with Thrin. He had only backed off when Legolas had glared 
at him, and asked, in his most Thranduil-like tone, why Talagan wished to  
make this change. Then, for some reason, Talagan had insisted on being  
present while Legolas bathed.  
 
"I’m quite familiar with the trade agreement, Talagan," Legolas said in  
exasperation. "I went over it with Father before we left. And I know  
that you know it intimately, as you wrote it." 
 
"I set up a meeting with members of the Guild tomorrow morning, m’lord,  
and I want you to be prepared."  
 
"It was my understanding that the Guild had already accepted this in  
principle," Legolas said, "and we both know that the terms are quite fair  
considering that, for the past five years, we have helped support this  
town while they rebuilt." 
 
"You’ll find, my prince, that there is often a wide gap between the  
principle and the letter," Talagan said, "and that recipients of charity  
aren’t always grateful." 
 
"Talagan, I have supreme trust in your ability to advise me." Legolas  
gave him a charming smile and took another gulp of wine. "And now,  
Elwen, I’ll turn the bath over to you, before the water cools off any more."  
He set the wine down on the floor, and then stood up, the water rushing  
off him. "Can you hand me that towel, Talagan?" 
 
The seneschal picked up a towel laying on the table, walked over, and  
handed it to Legolas. The prince stepped unselfconsciously out of the  
tub. Talagan tried to avert his eyes, but couldn’t help glancing at the  
prince’s well-knit body. It occurred to Talagan that it would take a  
supreme act of will for anyone to reject that beauty should the prince  
decide to gift it. Then he looked sharply at Elwen. The dark-haired elf  
had already moved over to the fireplace and was taking off his clothes  
and dropping them on the floor. He shrugged out of his tunic, revealing a  
silky, fair skin, strong chest, and taut nipples. His black hair swung  
down like a curtain as he bent to take off his boots.  
 
Talagan licked his lips nervously, feeling extremely uncomfortable. "Uh  
Thrin, I think we should go downstairs to the common room. Prince  
Legolas, I will expect you there *very* shortly."  
 
They left, Thrin grinning at them as he closed the door. 
 
"From the way he acts, you’d think there was something going on between  
us," Legolas said. 
 
"And of course nothing is, is it, Legolas?" Elwen said. He pulled off  
his leggings, and stood completely naked, looking at the prince with a  
slight smile. It was Legolas’s turn to take a quick breath. He began to  
towel himself off, rather slowly and deliberately. He leaned over and  
dried his wet hair. Elwen stood still for a few moments. The prince  
straightened up, looking into Elwen’s eyes. Legolas could feel a crackling  
energy line between them. It prickled and danced over his skin. 
 
Then, Elwen closed the gap between them, striding over, and gently  
placing his hand over Legolas’s heart. He took a deep breath. "Legolas, I  
am drawn to you . . . in every way. I think we could be good together."  
He paused. "There, I’ve said it, what we’ve both known for a while now.  
The next move is up to you."  
 
Legolas’s head reeled with the close presence of the dark-haired elf.  
His scent was intoxicating. He dropped the towel. Slowly, he also put  
his hand on Elwen’s chest. "Your heart beats quickly, my friend." 
 
"As does yours, prince," Elwen said.  
 
"Perhaps my heart knows something my head does not. I always thought I  
would go back to my lover in Lórien," Legolas said. 
 
"Yet you have not, and the years are passing. You chose to spend the  
summer with me and here I am." Elwen smiled.  
 
"And then, there’s my father, who would disapprove entirely. He doesn’t  
countenance this sort of relationship, and he expects me to make a  
suitable marriage some day," said Legolas. 
 
"Perhaps your relationships should be your choice and not your  
father’s," Elwen suggested. 
 
Ai, there he’d hit it, Legolas thought. He moved his hand across  
Elwen’s chest, over the curve of his pectoral muscle, then down, gently  
touching one of his nipples. The dark-haired elf closed his eyes briefly,  
his lips parted.  
 
"I find you hard to resist," Legolas sighed. 
 
"Then, do not resist," Elwen whispered, enunciating each word.  
 
Legolas looked into the elf’s sensuous, half-lidded violet eyes and  
felt an overwhelming desire for him. He knew that what he did next would  
change his life forever, and he knew he shouldn’t do it. But he couldn’t  
stop himself. He leaned forward, tilted his head, and gently touched  
his lips to Elwen’s.  
 
The first touch was somewhat awkward, like a tentative brushing of  
butterfly wings. The dark-haired elf’s lips were soft, supple. Elwen  
sighed, opening his mouth slightly. Their lips moved together, learning the  
best fit, until the joining felt natural. Legolas tasted Elwen’s  
wine-sweet mouth and a honey glow pulsed through his body. They both 
moved forward, pressing their warm bodies together, wrapping their arms 
about each other. The prince’s loins tingled with heat as he pressed against  
the other elf’s erection. 
 
"You feel so good," Legolas murmured, breaking from the kiss to stroke  
Elwen’s silky hair. 
 
"Legolas, my love, I have longed for this moment," Elwen sighed. "You  
will not be sorry. I shall take you to realms of pleasure beyond  
anything you can imagine now."  
 
"That’s quite . . . a challenge . . . as I have a good . . .  
imagination," Legolas teased, taking Elwen’s lips in short, juicy kisses. 
Elwen responded by opening his mouth wider, and sliding his tongue into  
Legolas’s mouth, while he moved his hips hard against the prince, sending 
a jolt of lightning through the prince’s cock.  
 
"Oh gods, I want you," Legolas breathed into Elwen’s mouth. 
 
Just then there was a knock on the door. Legolas and Elwen moved apart,  
both flushed and breathing hard. 
 
"Who is it?" Legolas called. 
 
"Goran."  
 
Legolas reached down, picked up the towel, and wrapped it around his  
waist. It didn’t quite hide his erection. Elwen stepped into the tub and  
settled far down in the hot water. The prince walked over to the door  
and opened it, with a jerk. 
 
"What is it, Goran?" he said abruptly. 
 
Goran looked at him, opened his mouth in surprise, shut it. His eyes  
darted away, then came back to stare at the prince. "I, I beg yer  
lordship’s pardon," he stammered. "I haven’t interrupted . . . no, of course  
not. I mean. . ." 
 
"Forgive me, Goran," Legolas said more politely. "I was just getting  
dressed for dinner and not expecting visitors. How can I help you?" 
 
"Your companion, Talagan, bid me tell ya to that he is expecting ya  
shortly. My father, head of the Merchant’s Guild, has arrived and would  
like to meet ya." 
 
"You can tell Talagan to remove that plug he’s got stuffed up his  
arse," Legolas said crossly. There was a sound of laughter from the tub. 
 
"Beg pardon?" Goran said, "but I don’t think I can relay that message."  
The laughter grew louder. 
 
"You may tell him I will be there as soon as I am decent," Legolas  
said. He shut the door. Then he looked toward Elwen. "So sorry," he said,  
"but I have obligations." 
 
"Go ahead. I’ll finish my bath, and catch up," Elwen said, still  
chuckling.  
 
Legolas walked over to the tub, leaned down, and kissed him again. "Can  
I expect to resume where we left off, later this evening?" 
 
"You can expect nothing less," Elwen said, beaming at him. Legolas went  
over to the waxed canvas bags containing their clothes, rummaged  
through one, and selected some leggings, a green silk tunic and a brown  
leather jerkin. He drew them on, brushed his hair, replaited the braid at  
the back of his head, slipped on his boots, and fastened his knife belt  
around his waist. 
 
"I don’t think you’ll need the knife, Legolas," Elwen said. 
 
"I’ve worn it so long, I’d feel naked without it," Legolas replied.  
"I’ll see you downstairs." 
 
**********  
 
Goran stood in the hallway for a few minutes dazzled by the sight he  
had just seen. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a tumble with that one, he  
thought. He imagined coming into the prince’s room that night, and  
slipping into bed to spoon behind the elf, running his hands over that  
slender, well-defined chest, and down the curve of his loin muscles, to  
stroke the elf’s organ while probing wet fingers into his opening. Goran  
felt himself harden at the thought. But how could it be accomplished? The  
other elf was staying with him, so coming into the room at night was  
out. There must be another way. And he didn’t know if Legolas was  
interested in males, although he’d heard that elves were often open to that  
kind of relationship.  
 
This required some thought. He smoothed his chestnut-colored goatee  
with two fingers, first one side, then the other. Then he went downstairs  
to join the others in the common room.  
 
- TBC –

************************************************* 
Dragon Fever by Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com 
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn; Legolas/Elwen, L/others  
Overall rating: NC17.  This chapter: PG13 
For Disclaimers, etc. see Chapter 1 
**************************************************
Chapter 5 - Dart Games
Legolas stepped into the common room and closed the door behind 
him. Meril was behind a wide wooden bar, filling several steins from a 
tap, the foam spilling over the tops. She looked up and smiled beautifully 
at the elf. He returned the favor. About a dozen lake-dwellers, some 
smoking long-stemmed pipes, were seated at tables scattered through the 
room. There was a steady thrum of conversation, clinking glasses, an 
occasional shout of laughter. In the far corner, Legolas saw Talagan and 
Thrin sitting with several other men, including Goran. As he walked 
toward them, he noticed some men throwing darts at a round board.
"Good evening," Legolas said.
"Ah, Prince Legolas, there you are, at last," Talagan said, narrowing his 
eyes for a second as he appraised his charge. "I would like to present, 
Audun, who is head of the Merchant’s Guild, and also head of the Town 
Council." A great bear of a man rose and reached across the table to shake 
Legolas’s hand. His shoulder-length hair was streaked with grey, as was 
his full beard. His eyes were like deep coals; his shoulders and gut 
massive. "And this is Thorvald, also on the Council, and a healer." 
Legolas inclined his head at the man with black hair and a long, crooked 
nose, "and I believe you’ve met Audun’s son, Goran," Talagan continued.
"Yes, of course," Legolas said, nodding at him. 
Goran half rose and looked at Legolas with a crafty smile on his young 
face. He ran a finger down his closely-cropped goatee.
"Ya honor us with yer presence, Prince," Audun said, in a deep 
commanding voice. "Pray, sit. What will ya have to drink?"
"Red wine, Dorwinion vintage," said Legolas, drawing out the chair and 
sitting between Talagan and Goran, and across from Audun. 
"Aye, I remember yer father liked that as well," Audun said. "Quite a 
potent wine, eh? Ya wood elves know how to ferment a fair potion. 
Meril," he called. She was there in an instant, wiping her hands on her 
apron. 
"Prince Legolas will have the Dorwinion red wine we just got in. Bring 
the bottle and enough glasses for all." 
"Aye, father." She looked at Legolas with shining eyes and left. She 
returned shortly with a bottle, glasses, and a corkscrew. She opened the 
bottle expertly, poured some for Legolas, and then for the others. 
Legolas picked up the elegantly shaped blue bottle with the name on the 
label both in the common tongue and in elvish. "Year 2910, not bad for 
grapes, as I recall. The following year we had the dreadful cold winter and 
the grapes did not grow well. Our wine suffered for several years." He 
took a sip of the wine and rolled it about his mouth. 
"Ya recall?" Meril said incredulously. "I thought ya were only a little older 
than me!"
"Don’ forget, daughter, that elves do not suffer the same curse as us mere 
mortals," Audun growled. 
"I am perhaps forty times your age, Meril," Legolas smiled, "but don’t 
hold that against me."
"No," Meril blushed, "forgive me, ah . . . *Prince* Legolas."
"And Legolas will do fine," the prince said, still holding her gaze. 
Audun looked from one to the other. "Perhaps, daughter, ya’d like to come 
sit with us," he said. 
Meril’s face grew radiant. "Could I? Let me just check on our other 
guests."
"Aye, and tell Nissa, we’d like dinner soon," said Audun. Meril left.
Audun leaned across the table to look at Legolas. "Pretty thing, isn’t she?"
"Yes, she is." Legolas stiffened a bit, and looked at Talagan, who betrayed 
no _expression.
"So, Prince," Audun said, taking a gulp of wine. "Our agreement gives the 
elves quite an advantage. No tariffs on foodstuffs imported from the 
farmlands for the next seven years, including the grapes to make this wine, 
while we pay full price on the finished goods."
"The agreement says for the next decade," Legolas said, "And we don’t 
ask for repayment for the considerable amount of support we gave to 
rebuilding this town. I don’t think you want an itemized list." He set his 
hands flat on the table, leaned forward, and gave Audun a steely look. 
Talagan nodded, his face beaming approval for the first time since this trip 
began. Yes, this was now Thranduil’s son.
Audun shifted uneasily and glanced at Thorvald, who merely scowled. "I 
thought we agreed on seven years."
"Page two, top paragraph. You may look it up," Legolas said. He leaned 
back in his chair and drained his glass. Then he smiled disarmingly, "But 
Audun, surely business can wait until tomorrow."
"Quite right, Prince. And here come both my daughters with dinner," 
Audun said gruffly. 
Goran looked at the prince with a mixture of respect and amusement. 
Anyone who could take his father down a peg was a worthy adversary. He 
gets more delicious by the minute, he thought. He brushed his leg against 
Legolas’s under the table. The prince moved away.
Nissa and Meril brought a tray filled with bowls of stew, plates of bread, 
butter, and cheese, and several more bottles of wine, which they swiftly 
set around. 
"Girls, come eat with us," Audun said. "Goran, move your chair and let 
Meril sit next to the Prince. I’m sure he likes the company of pretty girls." 
At that moment Elwen showed up, looking resplendent in black leggings, 
a billowy sleeved red silk tunic, covered with a sleeveless black jerkin that 
was laced across the chest. His shining black hair was elaborately braided 
and fell to the middle of his back. He radiated a fresh, masculine energy. 
Nissa leaned next to Meril and whispered in her ear, "I’m going to faint." 
Meril nodded and bit her knuckle.
Legolas smiled sweetly at Elwen. The prince said, "I’d like to introduce, 
my friend Elwen, an elf from Imladris, a realm west of the Misty 
Mountains." They all shook hands, and Elwen dragged up a chair from 
another table, and plopped it down between Talagan and Legolas. Talagan 
moved aside with a slight scowl. They fell to eating in earnest. 
"The food is excellent," Legolas said. "You run a fine inn, Audun." 
"Aye, it’s been hard these past years, since the dragon fell. We are only 
now getting back on our feet," rumbled Audun. 
"Were you there that night?" asked Elwen.
"Aye," said Goran. "We all were. I remember it clearly. I was nigh in one 
of the boats when Bard brought him down. He fell like a burning star. 
Then the lake rose in a huge wave that swamped all the boats. I nearly 
drowned. A horrible night."
Audun and Thorvald were nodding. "And the dreaded worm still has 
cursed us," Thorvald said, speaking for the first time, his voice thin and 
whispery. "No one can recover the treasure that rots from his breast."
"Yes, we felt it," Elwen said. They all turned to look at him. "Legolas and 
I, on our way here, we paddled too close." He shuddered. "Never do I 
want to feel that again."
"And there is no device to counteract it?" asked Legolas.
"Believe me, Prince, we’ve tried," Thorvald said. "I’ve managed to 
concoct some drugs that deaden the effect, but then they render the 
recipient too confused to function properly."
"Perhaps we could consult with our healers," said Legolas, wiping his 
mouth with a napkin. "Actually Talagan here has quite a skill in those 
arts." 
"You are too kind, Prince Legolas," said Talagan, "I only dabble in the 
healing arts. We have other healers, much more able."
"Tell me, Elwen," Nissa cut in suddenly, "how did ya happen to come to 
Mirkwood since ya live so far away?"
"I came for Thranduil’s summer games, a spectacle worth making a long 
journey to see," Elwen smiled.
"Yes, and he entertained us later with his fiddle playing," said Legolas, 
gently knocking his knee into Elwen’s under the table. He remembered 
how enchanted he had been when he first heard Elwen play. Now the 
dark-haired elf’s close presence was more than enchanting, it thrilled the 
prince in a way that he had seldom felt before. 
"Perhaps you’ll play for us tomorrow night?" Meril broke in. She stood up 
and poured more wine for everyone. "We have a summer festival in the 
great hall tomorrow," she continued. "Would ye go with us? Wouldn’t that 
be acceptable, father?"
"Ye are all quite welcome," Audun sighed, pushing back from the table. 
Legolas looked at Elwen, who nodded. "We’d be honored to come." the 
prince said. 
"Legolas, do ya have a sport, then?" asked Meril.
"Yes, I have some small skill as a archer," Legolas said. Elwen grinned; 
Talagan made a slight snorting sound; and Thrin rolled his eyes.
"Would ya like to try your hand at a dart game?" Meril asked. Legolas 
looked up. The others who had been playing had long since left.
"I’d be honored," he said. They got up and Meril retrieved a handful of 
three darts. The board was mounted about eight feet away. 
"Rules of this game," Meril said, "hit the numbers in sequence, 1, 2, 3, and 
so on. Last round is 19, 20, and then the bullseye. One point for hitting the 
number in the outer ring, two for the inner ring." Meril skillfully threw the 
darts at the board and hit 1, 2, in the inner ring, then 17. "Fishscales! I 
missed the 3, but I still got four points," Meril said. 
"That is quite presentable," said Legolas. He took the darts and weighed 
one in his hand. Then he threw them one by one. 1, 2, 3. Each one hit the 
outer ring. 
"Three," said Meril. "I’m ahead." They continued playing. Each round, 
Legolas’s score trailed Meril’s by a point or two. Until the last round, 
which Meril won by one point.
"I beat ya Prince . . . ah, I mean, Legolas," Meril cried in delight. 
"Perhaps it’s the wine," Legolas smiled, "and I haven’t played this game in 
ages."
Goran stood up. "I would challenge ya to a game," he said. "Do ya like to 
wager, prince?" 
"Uh oh, Legolas, watch out," said Meril, "Goran is quite a good player."
Legolas regarded him for a moment with an amused _expression. "I might 
be persuaded to play. What’s your bet?"
"Another bottle of wine," Goran said. 
Legolas looked around. "Anyone else? You, Elwen?"
Elwen threw up his hands, "Not me, Prince. I’m content to watch you get 
your arse kicked." He winked at Legolas.
Both Audun and Thorvald leaned back in their chairs. "Are ya going to 
take him on, Prince Legolas?" Audun said. 
Legolas handed Goran the darts. "Challenger gets first throw," he said. 
Goran threw the darts, hitting two of his targets in the inner ring, and the 
third target in the outer. 
"Good throw," Legolas said. He hit one in the inner ring, and two in the 
outer ring. 
"Ah, one point less," Goran chortled. "Meril would ya keep score?" Meril 
got a bit of paper and a pencil. 
They continued playing. Some rounds, Legolas was just ahead; some, 
several points behind. Soon, everyone in the common room had gathered 
round, with the Lakemen cheering on Goran, and the elves for Legolas. 
Meril and Nissa cheered for both. The players had rolled up their sleeves 
and were flushed with excitement. Nissa moved next to Elwen and sat 
with her arm alongside his. Finally, Goran and Legolas were tied.
"This is the final round. Ready to lose elf?" Goran said. "This time, in 
addition, to the wine, we play for the honor of our races."
"Have at him, Legolas," yelled Elwen, "defend the honor of the elves!"
Legolas’s mouth curved into a half smile. "Ready to lose your honor, 
Goran?" 
Goran took careful aim with each dart and placed 19 on the inner ring, 20 
on the outer, and the last one in the outer bullseye ring. "Beat that, elf," he 
said, going to the board and jerking the darts out. Audun and the other 
Lakemen were hammering the table. 
Legolas took the darts from Goran. Then with a hand that moved faster 
than sight, he placed each one with a resounding smack, 19, 20, both on 
the inner ring, and the last one directly in the bullseye. The metal tip 
buried itself deep in the cork, feathers flying. Legolas’s lips twisted 
upwards in triumph. His eyes flashed. The Lakemen groaned. The elves 
cheered and clapped wildly. Nissa jumped up and kissed Elwen on the 
cheek, and Elwen looked at her in surprise. 
"Ya were leading me on, the whole time," Goran said sulkily to Legolas.
"First rule of a warrior. Never underestimate your opponent," Legolas 
said. "I might’ve let you win the wine, but the honor of the elves, never!"
"Up for a rematch?" Goran said. 
"Ah, Goran, he beat ya fair," said Audun. "Better get his wine." He pushed 
his vast girth up from the table. "I’m calling it a night. I’ll see ye in the 
mornin’." Everyone got up and began filing out of the room. 
*****************
Audun and Thorvald stepped out into the street. "This agreement is 
starting to gall me," Audun said. "Thranduil forced this down our throats 
last time he was here. I thought he had slipped when he sent his youngest 
son to come finalize it, but this one is no fool. What do we do?"
Thorvald cleared his throat and spoke in his strange, scratchy voice. "We 
have done very well for ourselves by skimming the food, supplies, and 
timber from the elves and selling it off to the Bardings in Dale in exchange 
for dragon gold. This has come to an end, as Thranduil feels we have had 
sufficient time to rebuild." 
Audun grunted, "Tell me something I don’t know. I hope these elves don’t 
notice all the work left undone. We hoped to control all the trade passing 
through here, and place whatever tariffs we pleased. There is no reason not 
to. We are in the key location. Thranduil has anticipated this. Curse him! 
If I had the courage, I would refuse to sign."
"Then we’d have the wood elves’ wrath on our heads," said Thorvald. 
"That would be unwise."
"We also risk the wrath of Dain, King under the Mountain," Audun said. 
"They have  sent a delegation to request special consideration in exchange 
for providing free labor to help in the rebuilding. We will hardly be in a 
strong bargaining position if they hear that the wood elves have negotiated 
exclusion from tariffs for a decade. The Bardings have also talked of 
release from tariffs, claiming kinship! We can’t extend these favors to 
everyone; we’ll be penniless. We are between dragon fire’s and warg’s 
teeth. Ai, I am mad with this!" He brought both arms up and let them fall 
heavily to his side.
"Audun, I have a thought. Is Dain’s delegation still in town?" Thorvald 
said.
"Aye, we are to meet with them day after tomorrow." Audun said. "Right 
now, I know not what I’ll say to them."
"Perhaps we should invite them to meet with the Prince of Mirkwood." 
"Thorvald, you’re mad. All will be revealed!"
"Not necessarily," said Thorvald. "The elves and dwarves were never on 
the best of terms and the enmity from the battle five years ago, after 
Smaug’s death, has never been wholly assuaged. I believe we can turn 
these two traditional enemies against one another. Stir that stew, and we 
may make them ready to fight each other, and then enlist our aid in the 
cause. We could profit on both ends again." 
"Either that or we have both sides coming for us," Audun said. "We are in 
a delicate situation."
"Perhaps we can bait this prince. He is young, for an elf, and maybe he is 
hot-headed as well."
"Nay, I watched him play tonight," said Audun. "He never once lost 
control, but rather was cool as a mountain stream, right up to the moment 
that he bested Goran." 
"Ya saw the flash of fire, though, when the honor of the elves was the 
stake. That one is proud and cocky. Let us delay the signing of this treaty, 
invite the dwarves to meet with us for dinner before the festival tomorrow 
night, and feel the situation out." Thorvald then smiled widely. "I could, 
ah, make certain suggestions to each side before that meeting, suggestions 
that could alter this outcome in our favor."
Audun clapped his hand on Thorvald’s back. "My friend, yer the cleverest 
man I know. I’ll speak to Thranduil’s seneschal tomorrow morning and ya 
talk to the dwarves. Let’s go to your house now and work out exactly what 
to say."
- TBC -
************************ 
Dragon Fever by Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com 
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn; Legolas/Elwen, L/others  
Overall rating: NC17.  This chapter: R 
For Disclaimers, etc. see Chapter 1 
************************ 
 
Chaper 6 - In the Wine Cellar  
 
Nissa and Meril began clearing the tables. The elves thanked their  
hosts and filed out of the room. Thrin and Talagan headed upstairs. 
 
"Would ya like to come down to the cellar and choose your bottle,  
Prince?" Goran said to Legolas.  
 
"Fine," Legolas said. "I’ll be right there. No hard feelings?"  
 
"None at all," Goran said and held out his hand, which the prince took.  
Legolas and Elwen left the room.  
 
Goran chugged the last of his wine, and swayed slightly, wiping his  
mouth on his sleeve. 
 
"Goran," Meril warned, "ya be careful what ya do, now." 
 
"And what’s tha supposed to imply, sis?" Goran said.  
 
"Nothing." She came over and straightened Goran’s collar. "It’s just  
that I care about ya. Wouldn’t want anything to happen." 
 
"Ya don’t know what a torture my life is, sometimes," Goran whispered  
to her. "I’ll go get the prince his bottle. But he did cheat, ya know." 
 
"Nay, he didn’t," Meril said. "He just didn’t let on how good he really  
was. I think he planned every throw." Goran took another swig of the  
wine, then walked out of the smoky room. He headed down the hall and  
paused, as he could see Legolas and Elwen at the foot of the stairs. They  
seemed to be standing unnaturally close. Legolas had his hand on the  
dark-haired elf’s arm.  
 
I wonder about this pretty boy companion of the prince’s, Goran  
thought. What if he is more than just a friend? 
 
"I’ll see you shortly," he heard Legolas say, then the prince turned  
and looked at Goran. The man walked toward the elf, clearing his throat. 
 
"Come with me, Prince Legolas, and ya can pick out your own prize,"  
Goran said.  
 
Legolas followed him back through the kitchen and pantry to a door that  
opened on a narrow stairwell. Goran took a lamp from the wall and held  
it before him as he went, somewhat unsteadily, down the stairs. Goran’s  
and Legolas’s shadows stretched and retracted, sliding along the  
roughly-hewn cellar walls. At the bottom of the stairs, the small floor 
space was crowded, from floor to ceiling, with wine racks in parallel rows.  
The racks were only partially filled.  
 
"We don’t have much of a selection yet," Goran said, running his finger  
along the labels. "Ya shoulda seen our cellar before the dragon! Wines  
from all over, some hundreds of years old." He looked up at Legolas.  
"That must seem but a small time to ya."  
 
Legolas shook his head. "Time moves strangely for us. Sometimes  
swiftly, for the seasons seem to pass like the beating of a butterfly’s 
wings; and sometimes as slowly as the trees age in the forest. For like the  
trees, we change little, and the world hastens around us, like the  
butterflies."  
 
"I cannot judge as I’ve only been in the world twenty-five years," said  
Goran. "But I think sometimes it is like that for us men, too. Here,  
choose your poison, Prince." 
 
Legolas bent over to examine a bottle. His tunic rode up, revealing the  
tops of his shapely thighs encased in the tight leggings. Goran looked  
his fill. He was slightly drunk, and had to restrain himself from  
reaching out and caressing Legolas’s rear. Gods, he thought, this is too  
tempting. How can I keep him here? 
 
"Let’s try that one," Goran said. "I have some glasses and a corkscrew  
here." He went to a cabinet. 
 
"I should be retiring to my room. I’m tired from my journey," Legolas  
said. 
 
"I have heard the elves have iron constitutions and can march for days  
without rest," Goran said. "Is this not true of ya, Prince? Please  
indulge me in a drink, so I can show I bear ya no ill will for besting me  
in the game." 
 
"All right," Legolas relented. Goran grinned and opened the bottle. It  
made a sharp, gurgling sound as he poured the wine into the glasses. 
 
"To your health," said Goran raising his glass. 
 
"To yours and your family’s," said Legolas and took a sip. "Yes, this  
is better than what we had at dinner." He sat down on the stairs and  
Goran sank down next to him. The man noticed that the prince’s cheeks 
were slightly flushed. He wondered if the wine was affecting him. If so, all  
the better, he thought.  
 
"It’s a potent wine," Goran said. "Do wood elves get drunk?" 
 
"Gods, yes," Legolas said. "I remember, when I was much younger, the  
dwarf king, Nain II came to visit with a delegation of dignitaries. My  
father drank about four bottles of this vintage, then he began bragging  
about my skill with a bow. He bet Nain that I could hit any object in  
the room. The dwarf foolishly agreed to the bet, and my father set an  
apple on Nain’s head. You know, nothing improves your aim like 
knowing that, if you miss, you’ll start a war."  
 
"I assume you did not miss," said Goran, chuckling softly. "Yer father  
sounds like mine. A tough taskmaster. Hard to live with."  
 
"Ah, you’ve no idea," said Legolas, shaking his head.  
 
"My father has been rather disappointed in me," Goran sighed, "ever  
since," he paused and looked back up the stairs, then lowered his voice to  
a whisper. "Since he discovered that, uh, I don’t fancy women all that  
much. Tell me, prince, do ya find it the same with yourself?"  
 
Legolas arched an eyebrow. "That is a somewhat delicate question to ask  
on short acquaintance," he said. "But I will say that I find myself  
drawn to beauty, of both body and soul intertwined, and care less about  
the particular housing that spirit takes." 
 
"‘Tis a shame men are not so," grunted Goran. "I live in fear what  
might happen if . . ." 
 
"If what?" Legolas asked. 
 
Goran looked at him sidelong. "D’ya know what the penalty is here for  
engaging in forbidden love?" Legolas shook his head.  
 
"Death, by drowning." 
 
"That seems excessively harsh for so small an offense," Legolas  
wondered.  
 
Goran looked at the lithe form sprawled so near to him on the stairs,  
the delicate face shaped in harsh angles in the dancing lamp light. His  
groin began to burn. If only I could capture this lovely being, hold  
him slave to my desires, he thought. He practically admitted he would not  
be repulsed by such acts.  
 
Legolas thought he heard a heavy, scraping sound in the wall, as of a  
large creature moving. He looked in that direction and could see the  
outline of a door in the wall, behind one of the wine racks. Then, he felt  
a wave of sickness, just as he had felt that morning in the canoe  
floating over Smaug's bones. He shook his head to clear it. Maybe, he'd 
had too much of his father's wine. 
 
"Did you hear that, Goran?" Legolas asked. 
 
"Hear what?" Goran said.   
 
 
 
"I guess not. Well, this has been an, an *enlightening* chat, Goran,"  
Legolas said. "And I thank you for the wine." The prince set down his  
empty glass and started to get up. 
 
It’s now or never, Goran thought drunkenly, and he half stood up, then  
fell onto the prince, pinning him against the stairs. He pressed his  
lips hard against the elf’s.  
 
Immediately, Legolas jerked his face sideways, away from Goran. The elf  
shrugged one shoulder forcefully outward, and then down, sliding out of  
the man’s grasp.  He popped Goran hard on the chest with the flat of  
one hand.  
 
"I would have ya, Prince," Goran snarled, trying to kiss the elf again,  
and moving his hips against the prince's groin. 
 
"Do you seek death, then?" Legolas said menacingly, "if not at the  
hands of your own people, then at mine. I choose my own partners, Goran. 
Do not persist in this suit." At that moment, Goran felt a sharp stick in  
his back. He arched away from it, crying out in pain, as the point  
snicked through his tunic to the skin. He felt a trickle of hot fluid down  
his back.  
 
"I’d advise you not to move," Legolas said. The elf raised his arm  
slightly, and out of the corner of his eye, Goran could see the cold glint  
of metal. "Now back away from me, slowly," Legolas commanded. Goran 
sat back on his haunches at the foot of the stairs. Legolas flipped the  
knife around in his hand and held it pointed toward Goran. The elf drew  
his legs up under him, crouched like a cat, ready to spring.  
 
"Forgive me, Prince. It was an unworthy impulse, born of too much  
drink, nothing more," Goran murmured, his eyes lowered.  
 
"Don’t come near me again, or I might not be so merciful." Legolas  
stood up slowly, then came down one step, and bent to pick up the  
half-empty bottle. "And I believe, I won this," he said. He walked 
backward up several steps, the knife held ready in one hand, and the wine 
bottle in the other. Then, as Goran made no move, he turned and began to 
climb. 
 
"Prince," called Goran. Legolas looked back at him, grimly. "Ya won’t  
tell aught of this, will ya?" Goran said, sounding pitiful. 
 
Legolas curled his lip. "You ask for mercy, then?" His eyes narrowed.  
"I have no desire to see you put to death and no need to tell any of  
your people. Just stay away from me!" He sheathed his knife, then fled  
lightly up the stairs.
************************************** 
 
-TBC-
************************ 
Dragon Fever by Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com 
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn; Legolas/Elwen, L/others  
Overall rating: NC-17.  This chapter: NC-17 
For Disclaimers, etc. see Chapter 1 
************************ 
 
Chapter 7 - First Night  
 
Elwen paced nervously back and forth across the room, wondering at  
Legolas’s delay. What if he had changed his mind and thought better of  
their relationship? I’m not sure I could bear that, he thought.  
 
He had just decided to go out and look for him, when Legolas opened the  
door. The prince slipped in, shut it hard behind him, then turned the  
key. His body was tense; his face looked like a storm cloud. Elwen  
sprang over to him. "What’s the matter?" he asked. 
 
Legolas set the wine bottle down on the table with a thump. "That  
human, that Goran!" he spluttered.  
 
"What did he do?" Elwen asked.  
 
"He attacked me." 
 
"He did what?" Elwen said, astonished. "Are you hurt?" 
 
"Only my pride. I didn’t see it coming," Legolas said. "That can be a  
fatal mistake." 
 
"By the Valar, where is he?" Elwen said, angrily.  
 
"Licking his wounds." Legolas laughed. "I believe I gave worse than I  
got. He tried to kiss me." 
 
"It’s only that you are irresistible," Elwen said, smiling. "I can  
understand his desire, as I have felt it myself." He rubbed strong hands  
over the prince’s shoulders. "Don’t be angry anymore. It has passed."  
Legolas looked up at Elwen and his face softened.  
 
Elwen said, "Come, take off your boots, and sit with me. We can finish  
this hard-won bottle." 
 
Legolas pulled his jerkin off over his head and bent to draw off his  
boots. Elwen sat in a leather chair and poured the rest of the wine into  
their glasses. Legolas dropped into the chair next to him and picked up  
his glass with a sigh.  
 
"I did enjoy the look on Goran’s face when you nailed that bullseye,"  
said Elwen. "But after I came upstairs Talagan bid me tell you to be  
more careful and not antagonize the Lakemen." 
 
"*I* shouldn’t! What about them antagonizing me? I suddenly feel uneasy  
in this place." Legolas shook his head. 
 
"We’ll conclude your business swiftly and then go back to Mirkwood,"  
Elwen said. 
 
"Yes, and then you’re gone, aren’t you?"  
 
"Soon, yes, I’m afraid so," Elwen said.  
 
"Elwen, I wonder when I’ll find a place where I truly belong. I’m not  
comfortable in my father’s house, nor here. I am only truly happy when  
wandering wild paths. Shall my heart ever rest?" 
 
"Legolas, I would that your heart would rest wherever I am," Elwen  
said. He reached over and picked up Legolas’s hand, interlacing his 
fingers with the prince’s. "Do you still desire me?" Elwen asked. 
 
Legolas brought Elwen’s hand to his lips. "I watched you with desire  
all evening. I want no one but you," he said.  
 
Elwen’s pulse quickened. Now, it could happen, all his heart’s desire.  
He rose, dipped a long finger in the wine glass, then brought it to  
Legolas’s lips. The prince opened his mouth, and Elwen slipped his finger  
inside, stroking it on the prince’s warm tongue. Legolas began sucking  
gently on Elwen’s finger, as the dark-haired elf drew it back across  
the prince’s lips. 
 
Carefully holding the glass, the Imladris elf straddled the prince,  
slowly lowering his weight onto Legolas’s lap. Elwen dipped his finger a  
second time. This time he painted the wine over Legolas’s lips.  
 
"The shape of your lips is very comely, prince," Elwen said, "fashioned  
like the bow you wield so well." He looked into Legolas’s beautiful  
face, lips moist with the red liquid. Legolas gave him a dazzling smile  
and parted his lips, laving a pointed tongue across them. A shudder of  
desire thrilled though the Imladris elf. Elwen bent down and softly  
gathered the prince’s mouth to his, kissing off the wine. 
 
The prince responded slowly, then with increasing fervor. The  
dark-haired elf moaned as he reveled in the taste and feel of Legolas’s 
mouth. Yes, this was what he had longed for these last months, to make 
love to this golden being. Bless the Valar for this moment.  
 
Elwen closed his eyes, feeling Legolas kissing his cheek, the prince’s  
lips traveling over to his sensitive ears, licking and nipping at them,  
causing Elwen to gasp and shiver in delight. Legolas moved down to his  
neck, marking his flesh with a series of bites, each bordering between  
pain and pleasure. Elwen threw his head back to bare his neck to his  
lover’s teeth.  
 
"Ah, I love that," Elwen sighed. 
 
"I will explore all your sensitive places, tonight, elf," Legolas  
whispered against his neck.  
 
"You must tell me what you like," breathed Elwen, "so I know in future  
the touches you like best." 
 
"I like your mouth," Legolas said, and kissed him again so hard that  
they both finally had to pull away to catch a breath.  
 
Elwen reached down and tugged at Legolas’s tunic. "I find our clothes  
confining. I want to feel your naked body against mine, as it was  
earlier this evening."  
 
Legolas grinned. "Take them off me then."  
 
Elwen pulled at the offending cloth. "You’re sitting on it. Get up,"  
said Elwen. Legolas shook his head, with a teasing expression. Elwen dug  
his fingers into the prince’s ribs.  
 
Legolas jumped with a yelp. "That tickles!" 
 
"So, the deadly prince has a weakness!" Elwen smiled. He set about  
tickling Legolas until the prince rolled off the chair in laughter. He  
landed with a thump, with Elwen on top of him. 
 
"Shh," said Elwen, clapping a hand over the prince’s mouth. "We don’t  
want visitors." Legolas was still laughing softly as he pushed Elwen’s  
hand away. Elwen was desperate to feel Legolas’s naked skin against his.  
The Imladris elf tugged at the prince’s tunic; finally, jerking it over  
Legolas’s head, pulling it inside out. Elwen sat on the prince’s  
stomach and stared for a long moment at the prince’s creamy-skinned 
beauty; his broad shoulders, the hard, clearly delineated muscles of his 
chest and abdomen, the tender ovals of his rosy pink nipples. Then Elwen  
pulled his own jerkin over his head and flung off the tunic underneath. His  
black hair cascaded down over his chest. Elwen shook it out of his  
eyes. 
 
"The red of your tunic set off your hair, beautifully," Legolas said.  
"But I like better the contrast between that and your skin." He reached  
up and stroked the hair hanging over Elwen’s chest, then moved it aside  
and twisted one of Elwen’s hardened nipples, a jolt of pain and  
pleasure shot through the Imladris elf. 
 
"Ow, do you like your love-making rough, then?" Elwen rubbed his hips  
into the prince’s groin. 
 
"I like it in every way, elf of Imladris. But this floor is not  
conducive to enjoyment," Legolas said.  
 
Elwen got up and sat on one of the twin beds. Legolas leapt off the  
floor and threw himself on the dark-haired elf. Elwen went down under 
him. The bed moved slightly against the wall. 
 
"So, now it’s my turn to take the lead," Legolas smiled wickedly. "And  
you must submit to my will." 
 
"I’ve wanted nothing else since I met you," Elwen sighed. Legolas bent  
and kissed him hard. Elwen opened his mouth, and the prince sent a  
questing tongue inside to meet and dance with Elwen’s tongue. Legolas bit  
Elwen’s lip gently, then he began to move down, biting along Elwen’s  
neck. The dark haired elf moaned. 
 
"A weak spot, as noted before," Legolas said.  
 
"Valar, yes, it is," said Elwen. Legolas continued down his chest to  
suck on one of Elwen’s stiffened nipples, brushing the hard nub rapidly  
with his tongue.  
 
Elwen thrashed one hand against the bed. "Ah, another," Legolas teased.  
"And I bet I know a third." He turned and ran his hand over the bulge  
in the elf’s leggings, cupping and stroking the firm flesh within.  
 
"It doesn’t take too much wisdom to guess that one," gasped Elwen. He  
reached over and found the same bulge in the prince’s leggings. "Time to  
lose the last of your garments," Elwen said, breathing hard. He grasped  
Legolas by the waist and turned him onto his back, then bent and  
rapidly unlaced the prince's ties, pulling his leggings down over his legs  
and off. Legolas's cock, released from the cloth, sprang forth, stiff,  
and yearning. "Let me look at you," said Elwen, sitting back on his  
haunches, "Oh, you are charming all over, lirimaer."  
 
"I would see you also," Legolas said. He undid Elwen’s ties, pulled his  
leggings off and tossed them across the room. "Oh, yes," Legolas  
murmured, looking down at his lover. The prince gently wrapped his hand  
around Elwen’s cock and slid his hand up and down its length. "You have 
a generous rod, love, I think I shall be sore tomorrow," Legolas said.  
 
In answer, Elwen pushed the prince back against the bed and began  
kissing and licking his abdomen, then he bit the point of Legolas’s hip. 
The prince gasped.  
 
"A weak spot of yours," Elwen said. He continued his pathway, burying  
his nose in the golden hair around the root of his goal and deeply  
inhaling Legolas’s green-earth scent, then nipping along his soft inner  
thighs. Then he suddenly took the prince’s entire length into his mouth,  
welcoming the feel, the texture, the way it filled his mouth. Legolas  
uttered a shuddering moan. Yes, Elwen thought, and you’ll feel more than  
that by the time I’m done with you.  
 
Elwen skillfully rocked his mouth up and down, first slowly, then  
gaining in speed, then stopped abruptly, pulling his mouth off Legolas’s  
erection. How he loved seeing Legolas thrust his hips up in the air, his  
member straining to reach his mouth again. The dark-haired elf then bit  
the prince gently up and down the entire length of his shaft. He pulled  
the foreskin back and flicked his tongue rapidly on the soft tip, which  
now wept a few drops of clear, sweet fluid. Legolas cried out softly. 
 
"Ah, nectar," Elwen murmured, lapping greedily, filling his senses with  
the delicious taste of his lover. Then he opened his mouth wide and  
took Legolas’s length down his throat, moving rapidly while he caressed  
the prince’s shaft with his tongue.  
 
"Too much, you undo me," Legolas gasped, half sitting up. "I will come  
any minute, if you keep that up." 
 
"I thought that was the idea." Elwen ceased his motions and crawled up  
to lie on top of the golden-haired elf.  
 
Legolas was breathing hard. "I just like to prolong the pleasure," he  
said, putting his arms around the dark-haired elf. "You have a talented  
mouth. Should I ask where you acquired that skill?"  
 
"I have had my share of lovers. None like you, though," Elwen said, as  
he blew gently across Legolas’s ear. The prince shivered. He reached  
down and stroked Elwen’s round buttocks, softly, then harder, pulling  
them apart. Elwen’s cock slid by his, the shafts rubbing harshly.  
 
"Too dry," Elwen said. He rolled off the bed and rummaged through his  
bags. Finally, he said, "Here it is! I brought it just in case there was  
such an occasion."  
 
He came back to the bed and showed Legolas a ceramic vial with a cork  
stopper. Then he pulled out the cork with his teeth, and poured a little  
of the fluid into his hands, which he rubbed together. Elwen reached  
down and stroked it over his cock, then moved over to Legolas and slid  
his hand over his abdomen and then down to his erection.  
 
"It tingles," Legolas said delightedly. 
 
"Special recipe, my love, all for you. Now tell me what you want." 
 
"I want you to take me," Legolas said. He raised his knees and parted  
his thighs in invitation. 
 
"Exactly what I would have asked for," Elwen said in delight. He moved  
up between Legolas’s legs and slid his oil-slick body along his chest,  
until he lay full length on the prince. Then he gently kissed Legolas’s  
eyes, his nose, his chin. He began nibbling and pulling at the pointed  
tips of the prince’s tender ears with his teeth. The prince laughed and  
writhed under him. "Something *you* like," Elwen smiled.  
 
Legolas turned over on his stomach and handed Elwen the oil. "Be easy.  
I haven’t done this in a while," the prince said. 
 
Elwen moved down, kissing Legolas’s back, then over his smooth  
buttocks, licking, biting, and kissing, experiencing a thrill each time he 
made the prince groan. The Imladris elf sat up and poured more oil over 
his hands, then continued stroking Legolas’s buttocks, making the skin  
shiny, drawing his finger down the crack and finally inserting it into his  
tight opening. He rested it there for a bit, then moved it back and  
forth, stretching and preparing him. Then he slid in a second finger, and  
felt Legolas contract around him. The prince moaned. 
 
"Does it hurt, love," Elwen asked anxiously. 
 
"Valar, it both hurts and pleasures me! Keep going. Much deeper you’ll  
find my pleasure center." 
 
Elwen slid three fingers inside and probed deeply. Suddenly, Legolas  
pushed himself back on Elwen’s hand and sat up. "Oh, yes!" he cried.  
Elwen began to vibrate his hand gently. 
 
"Oh gods, that feels good," he cried. "You are uncanny!" Elwen  
continued moving his fingers within the prince, while he reached around 
and began to stroke Legolas’s cock with an oil soaked hand. The double 
assault made the prince’s head reel. He breathed rapidly, emitting 
incoherent cries. Then, when he had reached a peak of pleasure, and was 
about to spend his seed, Elwen stopped.  
 
"Oh, don’t stop, my love," Legolas begged, "keep going. Ah, you’ll  
drive me mad."  
 
"I want you to plead with me," Elwen said. "Beg for the instrument of  
your deliverance." 
 
"Gods, Elwen, if you don’t finish me, now, I swear I’ll kill you,"  
Legolas panted. 
 
"That didn’t sound like pleading, but it’ll do." Elwen grinned. "Lie on  
your back." 
 
The dark-haired elf kissed Legolas again. This time he fastened his  
mouth to his lover’s, thrusting his tongue deep within, devouring his  
lips. Their loins pushed and rubbed and ached against each other, yearning  
to become joined just as their mouths were. Elwen longed for that  
joining, wanted their passion to burn him into one with his beloved.  
 
Elwen moved between the prince’s thighs and then Legolas felt the  
insistent pressure of the Imladris elf’s cock that suddenly breached the  
ring of muscle and pushed completely into him. It felt like being impaled  
on a shaft of fire. "Unhhhh," Legolas cried out. 
 
"Hush, love, we’re not alone, here. Are you all right?" Elwen asked.  
 
"Oh, you’re so big, you burn me!" Legolas moaned.  
 
"Should I withdraw?" asked Elwen. 
 
"No, take me, elf," Legolas said harshly. "Hard! Do it now!"  
 
Legolas grasped Elwen’s waist with his knees and pulled him deeper.  
Elwen rapidly rammed into him. He was stroking Legolas’s sensitive 
gland with every thrust and the prince’s pain evolved into euphoria. 
 
"Oh, gods, yes, that’s sweet," the blond elf cried in ecstasy. "Harder!  
Do you like that?" 
 
"Oh, yes. I’m going to come inside you, Prince! I’m going to fill you  
with my need, my longing for you! I’ll take you so hard, you’ll never  
forget me!" cried Elwen.  
 
Legolas looked into his lover’s passion-flushed face, his brilliant  
amethyst eyes, his pupils wide with desire, the bloom of sweat making his  
face and chest shiny. Why did I wait so long for this, the prince  
wondered. Elwen’s balls banged up against his buttocks. Legolas flung his  
legs farther apart. His head roared. He watched as Elwen reached down 
and grasped the prince’s cock tightly in his hand. A few strokes pushed  
Legolas over the edge. He arched his back and came so hard, he saw lights  
dance in the air before his eyes. He gave a great cry, as his semen  
pumped out of him, spilling onto Elwen’s hand and his stomach. Oh, such  
pleasure! Nothing compared to it!  
 
Elwen proceeded to thrust even harder, knocking Legolas’s head up  
against the wall. The prince felt the dark-haired elf grab his hips, his  
nails raking over Legolas’s tender skin, and then Elwen, in turn, emitted  
a strangled cry. Legolas felt a burning flood as Elwen gave a final  
deep thrust.  
 
The dark-haired elf moved a few strokes more and finally came to a  
stop. He slumped forward onto Legolas’s chest. They remained joined,  
neither moving for a long time. There was only the sound of labored  
breathing.  
 
Then Elwen rolled off him, pulled him into his arms, running his hands  
over Legolas’s buttocks affectionately. "I could do that forever. You  
have a luscious arse, elf of Mirkwood," he said. The dark-haired elf  
stroked his back and kissed his brow, both of them basking in a glorious  
warmth. The prince still felt the tingling after effect of Elwen’s  
thrusting, and he knew he would be feeling it more in the morning. 
 
The blond prince looked at the radiant face of his lover. He stroked  
Elwen's ruddy cheek, the color heightened by his white skin and dark  
hair. What passion was in this beautiful being! Perhaps, he could love this  
one, truly love him forever. It was a new thought for the prince. 
 
"Maybe, I’ll keep you, at least for a while," Legolas murmured, kissing  
him gently.  
 
Elwen felt a rush of happiness. "Will you keep me longer, if I do that  
to you again?" he asked, with a sly smile. 
 
Legolas pulled back to look at him and his eyes crinkled with mischief.  
"Melethron-nîn, just give me some time to recover, and then I shall  
ride *you.* I’ll wager you’ll be sorer than I in the morning." 
 
* * * * * * * * * 
 
Goran looked up at the ceiling of his room, half in annoyance, half in  
lust. His lodging was directly under the prince’s. He could hear the  
faint creaking of bed joints knocking against the wall in an unmistakable  
rhythm. Then he heard muffled groans. He spit on his hand and caressed  
his cock in time with the sound. Eventually, he heard a soft drawn out  
ahhhh. The bed creaked even more rapidly, there was a thud against the  
wall, and then he heard another moan of contentment. The creaking  
ceased. Goran's breath caught in his throat, he bucked his hips hard, and  
his hand became wet with his seed.  
 
So, Prince, ya reject *me,* but make love to the dark-haired elf, he  
thought. This is not over between us. 
************************************************** 
 
 
-TBC-

************************************** 
Dragon Fever by Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com 
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn; Legolas/Elwen, L/Smaug  
Overall rating: NC17.  This chapter: NC-17 
For Disclaimers, etc. see Chapter 1 
Warning: Some het content 
************************************** 
 
Chapter 8 - Dragon’s Breath  
 
In the middle of the night, Thorvald roused Audun, the Head of the  
Laketown Council, from his bed. "Many apologies, Audun, but there’s a  
report of strange happenings down on the lake. I believe ya need to see for  
yourself." 
 
Audun rose muttering and threw on a heavy cloak. He followed Thorvald  
out the door of the Dragon’s Bane Inn. He noticed he was walking in a  
fine mist that resembled smoke. It drifted up around the inn to the  
second story, coiling around it like a huge serpent. They waded through it,  
down the deserted streets, past dark houses, out to the pier. From  
there they could see the mist rising off the lake from the direction of the  
ruins of the old town of Esgaroth. It twisted and boiled up from the  
water. Shreds of it drifted past them with a slight hissing sound.  
 
"What in the name of all the gods is that?" Audun whispered. 
 
"I don’t know, but it’s coming from the direction where the cursed worm  
fell," Thorvald said.  
 
"Set a guard," Audun commanded. "Alert me if anything more happens.  
Perhaps it’s just a strange exhalation of the lake." 
 
"If so, it seems to have sought out your inn." Thorvald stroked his  
chin thoughtfully. 
 
Audun grunted and retreated his steps, seeking the warmth of his bed. 
 
* * * * * * * * 
 
Legolas stirred. He thought he’d heard something in his sleep. The  
prince tightened his arm around Elwen, feeling the Rivendell elf’s warm  
chest slowly rising and falling. Sighing, he settled back into a dream. 
 
Surrounded by a heavy mist, his hair hung damp against his back. Drops  
condensed against his naked skin. As he crept forward in  
warrior-readiness, half-seen objects appeared and then faded back into the 
silver air. A heavy wheezing sound. "Elbereth Gilthoniel," Legolas 
muttered. 
 
"So, here isss the little archer princccce. He fancies he can ward  
*me*."  
 
Who said that? Legolas looked around quickly. The watery air coiled  
itself round the prince, condensing into a denser substance. He felt it  
like a cold, rough tongue, licking up his calves, wrapping around his  
waist, another loop tickling around his chest. It rumbled, like a vast,  
purring cat. Legolas ran his hands over his wet body, trying to rid  
himself of the sensation. 
 
"Yes," said the wheezing, hissing voice, "Awakened from slumber I was  
by the lascivious thoughts of two elves. My own thought has drifted to  
yours and feasted on your lust. You and your companion have provided 
me with much vicarious pleasure this night, such as I have not felt in  
many ages of the world." 
 
"Who are you?" Legolas called. 
 
"Can you not guess, princeling? You felt me yesterday and yesterday is  
when I first perceived your desire for the other elf." 
 
"Smaug," Legolas said in horror. Two glowing yellow eyes appeared out  
of the mist, and the scaly coils materialized, tightening about the elf.  
 
"Correction, tender elf . . . Smaug the Magnificent! I was great and  
powerful and none dared oppose me!" Smaug laughed softly. "I amassed a  
mountain of precious things that I used for a bed. I have killed and  
eaten the mightiest warriors and driven their people like cattle. I have  
tasted many a lovely elf like yourself." 
 
"No more, worm," Legolas scoffed. "I have seen your bones laid low at  
the bottom of the lake." 
 
 
 
"Yessss, an archer of Esgaroth brought me down, curse him and all his  
kind! Brought low in the midst of my glory. If I were still hot, I would  
hunt down and devour every one of them, including you, elf.  But, I  
have enjoyed your coupling so much," the cold tongue flicked low over 
his belly and across his thighs, "I think I would eat you slowly." The air  
vibrated in deep, rumbling laughter.  
 
"Thank you for showing such consideration," Legolas said. "Now, do you  
think you could slither back into your watery grave? I have a hard day  
of negotiating with the Lakemen tomorrow." 
 
"The Lakemen." Smaug’s ghastly head materialized around the gleaming  
eyes. "You may find that they don’t have your best interests at heart,  
Prince. Yes, I feel their plotting from afar. You might ask Audun where  
all his dragon gold came from." 
 
"Smaug, why should I believe you? Dragons are known to be liars." 
 
"Liars!" Smaug’s eyes lit up crimson, darkened mist erupted from  
tendrilled nostrils. He drew a sharp claw under the prince’s chin. "Just  
remember, Prince, I do not love the Lakemen, and, at present, I have no  
quarrel with you. In fact, I’m feeling rather well disposed toward you."  
The tongue flicked between his legs and probed his buttocks. "You may  
wish a favor of me sometime soon, I expect." 
 
"I have heard that favors from dragons do not come without a price,"  
Legolas said, moving uncomfortably in the dragon’s grip. 
 
"A price, yes, always," Smaug hissed. 
 
"Be off with you, worm!" Legolas attempted to push away Smaug’s 
roving tongue. 
 
"Then, I’ll leave you to your rest and see what other mischief I can  
cause." The dragon grinned hideously, his mouth full of glittering,  
serrated teeth. Then he coughed, a sick, hacking sound. Legolas had the  
sensation of a scaly creature uncoiling itself from around his body. The  
mist dissipated.  
 
Legolas jolted awake and looked around the darkened room. A sulfurous  
smell lingered in the air. What a strange dream, he thought. He rolled  
over several times trying to brush off the scaly sensation, then he  
pulled the blanket more closely around himself and Elwen.  
 
********** 
 
Goran lay thrashing in his bed. Then he found himself climbing the  
stairs up to the cursed prince’s room. The key appeared in his hand and he  
opened the door. He could make out the shadowy forms of two figures  
lying on the bed. The man crept over and looked down. The prince was  
spooned behind the other one with his arm wrapped around the Imladris 
elf’s chest.  
 
How sweet, thought Goran, bitterly. I should turn ya in. It would give  
me pleasure to watch ya drown in each other’s arms.  
 
Goran discovered he was naked. Then he was lying behind the prince  
feeling his erection pressed up against the elf’s buttocks. The dark-haired  
elf was gone. Goran swiftly penetrated Legolas. Gods, what a sensation!  
The elf was hot and tight. Everything he’d imagined. Goran began to  
move, when a smooth, warm body slid into the bed behind him. Goran felt 
a tongue caressing his ear. A hard shaft pushed up against his opening  
and then pierced him. Such an intense and pleasurable sensation of  
fullness! It was almost more than he could bear.  
 
The dark-haired elf spoke. "Goran, have you ever been the meat between  
two pieces of elvish waybread?" The words alone were enough to send 
him over the edge as he came hard within the prince. He felt the elf behind  
him also moving to completion.  
 
"Beware, Goran," he wheezed. "I will have my way with you, whenever I  
wish. I shall devour you!"  
 
Goran shivered and opened his eyes to find himself in his bed, the  
sheets wet with his sweat and semen. A cold breeze blew in the room. 
What was that smell? A striking flint and tinder?  
 
********** 
 
Meril was in the kitchen, wiping off a dish. She despaired as she  
imagined long empty years ahead, engaged in this same action. A misty 
breeze blew the kitchen door open. She slowly turned and walked through 
it.  
 
She was in the midst of a glorious flower garden, of many colors. Above  
was a brilliant blue sky with immense clouds shaped like sailing ships.  
She entered a high green hedge that formed a maze. Coming around the  
corner, she beheld Prince Legolas, his long cape blowing in the breeze.  
He held a rose. As she came forward, he turned and looked at her kindly,  
the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing her soul. He said something in  
elvish.  
 
"I don’t understand," she said.  
 
He offered her the rose. "An elvish rose for a human beauty," he said  
in the common tongue, his voice soft and sweet. She accepted it and put  
it to her nose. The smell unexpected, an odor of sea salt, mixed with a  
sulfur note. 
 
"Thank you," she murmured. He tilted his head to press his lips against  
hers. Meril shivered with longing. She kissed back shyly, and then he  
took her in his arms and kissed her hard and deep. The prince dropped to  
the ground with her.  
 
They rolled over and she lay on his chest, her legs drawn up, kissing  
his lips, then his face. She felt him pull her skirts up and run his  
hand along her outer thigh and then stroke over her rear. She began crying  
and trembling.  
 
"I won’t hurt you," he whispered. "I just want to make love to you." He  
smiled, dimples appearing at the corners of his lips, and her heart  
melted. 
 
He pulled her dress off in one slow, fluid motion. She felt the rough  
cloth sliding over her body. Then he rolled her over and lay on top of  
her, biting her neck while stroking a hand over her breast. A vibrant  
glow spread throughout her belly. 
 
She felt him within her, filling her with his hard need. She moaned,  
wanting him so badly. He leaned forward and claimed her mouth as he put  
his hands beneath her hips, rocking her deeper. She felt herself on the  
crest of a warm wave that rolled her over and over, into a giddy  
frenzy.  
 
Meril suddenly sat up in bed, her whole body tingling. Gods, what a  
dream! She’d never experienced one so vivid. Her face felt hot and moist.  
A cold air current threaded past her and there was a faint burning  
smell. Meril got up to close the window and discovered that it was already  
shut. Shivering, she crawled back in bed.  
 
* * * * * *  
 
Talagan sat at his desk copying the trade agreement onto parchment. But  
the words kept disappearing. He felt panic as he knew the king would be  
coming any moment and would expect it finished. A wind appeared and  
papers swirled about his room. He ran trying to pick them up. He heard the  
king’s voice roar, "Talagan!" and the door flew open.  
 
"My lord, forgive me," Talagan said.  
 
Then Talagan felt the king’s lips crushing against his as he was  
knocked to the floor. The king ripped the seneschal’s tunic and leggings 
open and then penetrated him with a single thrust. The pain and pleasure  
overwhelmed him. Talagan cried out in anguish. But in his heart he’d  
always desired this. The shame was unbearable  
 
"You have failed me. Look at my son!" Thranduil said, pulling away from  
him. Talagan turned to look. A vast lake stretched behind him. Legolas  
and Elwen were sitting naked in their canoe, arms wrapped about each  
other, kissing passionately.  
 
But Legolas slowly fell backward out of the boat, his arms tied behind  
him. He struggled to keep his head above the water. Talagan reached out  
to help him, but the prince sank under the surface. Such a feeling of  
desolation! Smoke boiled up from the water with a smell of brimstone.  
 
Talagan came to consciousness in a cold sweat, his heart thumping. 
**************************** 
 
-TBC- 

Dragon Fever by Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com 
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn; Legolas/Elwen, L/Smaug  
Overall rating: NC-17.  This chapter: R 
For Disclaimers, etc. see Chapter 1 
******************************************************* 
 
Chapter 9 - Morning After  
 
Legolas awoke in the grey dawn and groaned, his whole body sore. He  
reached out and noticed Elwen’s absence. The dark-haired elf was up,  
crouched over the bathtub, testing the water. 
 
"I feel every bit of my seven hundred and thirty-six years," Legolas  
said. "What a night!" 
 
"The water is stone cold, as expected," Elwen said. "And seven hundred  
years is young yet. Wait ‘til you’ve been around eight hundred and  
twenty." He stood, looking thoughtful. "I suppose I could get the fire  
going and see about heating some of this up." 
 
"Why bother? Just ring Goran and ask him for it." 
 
"You’re sure?" 
 
"I don’t think he’ll try anything again, if that’s what you mean,"  
Legolas grinned. 
 
"It would probably be better though, if we were dressed, don’t you  
think?" Elwen laughed. He went to the bags and withdrew two robes. He 
threw one at Legolas. The material was navy silk, elaborately embroidered  
with leaves. Legolas stood up and slid it over his head. Elwen put on a  
similar robe, then pulled the bell, and they waited.  
 
In about ten minutes, there was a knock on the door. Legolas opened it  
and Goran was standing there, looking sleepy. "Yer up early, what do ya  
want, Prince?" he asked in a surly tone. 
 
"Breakfast, and hot water for the tub," Legolas said. "As soon as  
possible." 
 
Goran peered in the room, glancing at Elwen. "Worked up a sweat last  
night, did ya?" he said. 
 
Elwen looked at him coldly. Goran went over to the tub. "Here, help me  
dump this," he said. The man went to the window, opened it, then walked  
back over to the tub and picked up one end. Elwen picked up the other  
and they carried it, sloshing water, over to the window and dumped it  
out. They brought it back, and Goran stood up, wiping his brow. 
 
"Yer a lot of trouble, Prince Legolas," he said. "Without proper  
recompense for it." 
 
"We are paying you and our money is as good as anyone else’s," Legolas  
said, scowling at him. "Hurry up." 
 
************ 
 
Goran went to the head of the stairs and then leaned against the  
banister. The sight of the two elves that had figured so pleasantly in his  
dream last night was both exciting and irritating. Finally, he took a  
deep breath and headed downstairs to the kitchen where he began heating 
up a large kettle of water over the fire. Meril came in as he was putting  
biscuits in the oven and setting tea cups out on a tray. The cups  
clattered as he tossed them angrily.  
 
"Ya seem in a bad mood this mornin’," Meril said. 
 
"It’s that Prince. He’s asked for yet another bath. I never heard of  
anyone bathing so often," Goran scowled. 
 
"Perhaps elves just like to be clean," Meril said, dreamily. 
 
"Humph," Goran said. He threw a tea pot on the tray and poured hot  
water into it. "Here, take this up to your precious elves." 
 
Meril’s cheeks colored. "Ah, no, I’d really rather not," she said. 
 
"Why, what’s the matter with ya?" 
 
"I’d rather not say." Meril twisted her apron in her fingers. "I just  
don’t think I could face him this mornin’." 
 
Goran looked at her curiously. "You’re smitten with him," he said,  
curling his lip. 
 
"As ya are," Meril challenged.  
 
"Well, ya can forget it," Goran smiled unpleasantly. "He’s buckin’ the  
pretty, foreign elf." 
 
"No, I can’t believe that! How do ya know?" Meril said in dismay. 
 
"I could hear ‘em from my room las’ night."  
 
"You’re just lusting after him yourself," Meril cried, "Yer so  
perverse! I’ll not believe your lies, Goran."  
 
"Ya think I’m perverse, do ya, Meril?" Goran was turning red. "I’ll  
have ya know, I’ve gotten beyond that aberration. So, why don’t ya 
believe me?"  
 
"I, ah, just feel it," Meril said. "He’s so masculine." 
 
"Do you think I’m not!" Goran growled. "I believe I pass for a man, in  
all the ways that count." 
 
"Nay, I didn’t say ya didn’t," Meril said soothingly.  
 
He smiled slowly at her. "Well, keep yer illusions then, sis." Nissa  
came into the room. She was humming. 
 
"At least ya seem happy this morning," Meril said. "Unlike Goran here." 
 
Nissa came close to her and laid her hand on Meril’s arm. "Oh, I had  
such a lovely dream last night. About Elwen." Then she looked down,  
embarrassed. "It was rather, uh, passionate." 
 
Merill looked at her hard and Goran looked at both of them. "I had a  
dream like that as well," Meril said. "Though I blush to tell it." 
 
"And I," said Goran.  
 
"Don’t ye think this a bit strange?" Meril said. "Oh, look, Goran, the  
bath water is steaming. Do ya need help to take it up?" 
 
************** 
 
Legolas lowered himself into the hot water with a sigh. "Ah, by the  
grinning gods, I should never have made that challenge to you last night,"  
he said. "Being ridden twice in one night when I wasn’t used to it . . ." 
 
"Yes, well I think you gave as good as you got," Elwen groaned. "I can  
barely walk."  
 
"I guess we both lost our bet then," Legolas laughed. 
 
"Say rather we both won," Elwen said, "and a good thing it is, too,  
that elves heal quickly, as I intend to take you again this evening, as  
many times as possible." 
 
Legolas held out his arms. "Come on in, love, while it’s still hot and  
soothing."  
 
Elwen pulled the robe off over his head, and slid into the tub behind  
Legolas, his back rasping hard against the metal. He folded his arms  
about the prince’s chest and tried to figure out where to put his feet. He  
finally wound his legs around Legolas’s waist and dropped his feet in  
between the prince’s drawn up legs.  
 
"Hey, watch where you’re kicking!" Legolas said. 
 
"There’s barely enough room in here for one, let alone two, six foot  
tall elves," Elwen complained, blowing a lock of the prince’s golden hair  
away from his face.  
 
"Next time we need to find accommodations with larger tubs," Legolas  
said. "Ow! You *do* know that’s a rather tender spot." 
 
"Yes, I’m well aware of how tender it is." Elwen smiled against the  
back of Legolas’s head. He lipped the prince’s neck, then stuck his tongue  
behind his ear. Legolas jumped violently and a dollop of water sloshed  
onto the floor.  
 
"Ai," shouted Elwen. "You put your elbow in my ribs!" 
 
"You tongued another ticklish spot!" complained Legolas. 
 
"Good, I’m making a catalog of your weaknesses, elf of Mirkwood. Soon,  
I’ll have you totally under my power," Elwen said.  
 
"You forget that I have a similar list for you," Legolas said. "So,  
it’s a stand-off. Where’s the soap?" 
 
Elwen began chuckling. "It’s behind me, beyond my power to retrieve. By  
the Valar, this is ridiculous. I’m getting out." He made an effort to  
unfold his legs from around the prince. He began laughing even harder.  
"Alas, I am stuck," he said. 
 
"You can’t be," Legolas made an attempt to get up. The tub began to  
tip. 
 
"Stop, stop," cried Elwen, "we’ll end up dumping the whole lot and  
that’ll surely please Goran." 
 
Just then there was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" Legolas tried to  
say seriously, but both he and Elwen were vibrating with mirth. 
 
"Talagan, Prince. Let me in." 
 
"I would if I could," Legolas called, "but we appear to be stuck."  
Elwen burst into musical laughter. 
 
There was a moment of silence outside the door. Elwen wiped tears from  
his eyes with one knuckle and attempted to collect himself. 
 
"When you two are done fooling around, I want a word with you, Prince,"  
came the deadly serious reply. 
 
"Right you are, Talagan," Legolas replied loudly. Then he turned his  
head sideways. "I guess I’m in trouble," he chuckled. "We better figure  
out this puzzle. Now, if you put your leg over my head . . ."  
 
************* 
 
The two elves managed to extricate themselves from the tub, dressed,  
and were in the midst of breakfast when Talagan entered the room with a  
scowl.  
 
"Good morning, Talagan," Legolas said innocently, "I am sorry we were  
indisposed earlier. You see, we had an unfortunate accident with the tub  
. . ." 
 
"I’m in no mood for your levity, Prince," Talagan interrupted. "I need  
to talk with you . . . alone." 
 
"Um, I think I’ll take a walk and see more of the town. If you’ll  
excuse me, Prince, Seneschal," Elwen said. He made a courtly bow to 
each of them and left the room. 
 
"Well, what do you have to say that can’t be said in front of Elwen,"  
Legolas said coldly. 
 
"My prince, we are on a serious endeavor here and you are treating it  
far too lightly," Talagan said. He came and sat in a chair at the table. 
 
"I will be serious enough when the time comes. But when not on duty, I  
have a mind to enjoy myself," Legolas said angrily. "You have known me  
all my life, Talagan. Don’t you know I’ll do what’s necessary for the  
good of my people? Have I ever failed to come through in a pinch?" 
 
Talagan’s face relaxed a bit. "No," he said. "But I was charged with  
responsibility for your conduct, and to see that this agreement is  
finalized smoothly, and now I fear there are unforeseen complications. I 
came to tell you that Audun has moved the meeting to tomorrow morning. 
A delegation of dwarves has come from King Dain. Audun told me, in  
confidence, that they are angered that the Lakemen are dealing with the 
elves and have come to demand we be excluded from any trade 
agreements." He got up and paced. "I feared something like this would 
happen. The dwarves have always been greedy. I’m afraid the old enmity 
is stirring again." 
 
"This seems rather sudden." Legolas frowned. "Did they just appear and  
make demands this morning? And did Audun not have any forewarning of  
this?" 
 
"I know not, Prince. We have, however, been invited to dinner tonight  
with the dwarves so Audun can attempt to mediate."  
 
Legolas shook his head. "I don’t feel right about this, Talagan. You  
know, I had a dream last night." 
 
"A dream, what about?" Talagan suddenly was tense. 
 
"About, well, no matter. It was very strange. But in it I learned that  
the Lakemen may be plotting against us. I believe now that it was  
prescience. We must be careful tonight." He dunked his honeyed biscuit in  
his tea and took a large bite. 
 
"Very good, my lord. Now, I do have one other concern," Talagan said,  
hesitantly.  
 
"Yes." 
 
"Uh, I am unsure how to broach this, so I will just be blunt. I suspect  
that you and Elwen have developed an inappropriate relationship. Am I  
right?" 
 
"I hardly see that it is your affair, Talagan," Legolas said. "Am I not  
free to pursue my own ‘relationships’?" 
 
"To an extent. But you are a prince and therefore have royal duties and  
obligations. Your father made a point of reminding me of that before I  
left and of charging me with your conduct. He did not wish you to make  
a liaison with the Imladris elf." Talagan leaned forward in his chair  
and looked searchingly into Legolas’s eyes. 
 
The prince sat up straight, his face working to control his anger. "My  
father has no right to order my life," he said. "I am the youngest and  
not the heir to the throne. My so-called relationships matter to no one  
but me!" 
 
"They matter to him, Prince, and I am merely your father’s faithful  
servant, bound to carry out his wishes." 
 
"Are you afraid of him, Talagan?" Legolas asked. 
 
Talagan hesitated, then he said, "yes."  
 
Legolas got up and threw open the curtains of the window. Bright  
sunlight streamed in. "Well, there we have something in common, 
Seneschal," he said softly. "All my life, I have sought to please him and I 
have never succeeded. He has never approved of any lover I’ve had. It’s 
time I found my courage and made my own choice." He turned back to 
look at Talagan. "And I have chosen to love Elwen." 
 
Talagan shook his head. "I feared this would happen. Your father’s  
wrath will fall upon my head, I’m afraid, as well as on yours." 
 
"Talagan, dear friend," Legolas came close to him and put an arm around  
his shoulder. "We, neither of us, need tell him."  
 
"I am incapable of lying to him if he asks," Talagan said, with a  
rueful smile. 
 
"Have you actually witnessed any inappropriate behavior on my part?"  
Legolas said, smiling winningly. He moved around to Talagan’s other side  
and whispered in his ear. "And I have not admitted any physical  
relationship, have I? I’ve only admitted to affection. As far as you know, it  
is unrequited."  
 
"We’ll see, Prince Legolas." Talagan’s face relaxed into a soft smile.  
"You do seem happy and I have always wanted that for you."  
 
"Now, it appears that I have the day off," Legolas said. "Do I have  
your leave to go out and enjoy myself? Or would you prefer that I sit  
inside with a scowl on my face all day?" 
 
"Try and stay out of trouble," Talagan sighed. "I just ask that you be  
ready for dinner tonight with your wits sharp." He cuffed Legolas  
lightly on the head. 
 
"Fear not, dear Talagan," Legolas said. "You and I together are  
formidable adversaries." Legolas stood up, fastened his cloak about his  
shoulders, and left. 
 
Talagan sat shaking his head. Ever the charmer, he thought. Like his  
father, and yet not so. With some more training, he would make a good  
king. Our people would follow him, not out of fear, but out of love. A  
pity he’ll never have the chance. Well, I think I’ll go out myself and  
find out what the Lakemen know about the present mood of the dwarves. 
******************************* 
 
-TBC-
************************************************************
* 
Dragon Fever by Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com 
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn; Legolas/Elwen, L/Smaug  
Overall rating: NC-17.  This chapter: NC-17 
For Disclaimers, etc. see Chapter 1 
************************************************************ 
 
Chapter 10 - In the Market Place  
 
Elwen wandered about the bustling Esgaroth market place, filling his  
senses with the sights and smells. There was a breeze off the lake and  
the day was warm with a magnificent blue sky. The air smelled of wood  
smoke mixed with a pungent odor of fish. Vendors called out to him from  
all sides to come and try their wares.  
 
He stopped by a fruit stand and a grey-haired woman said to him, "It’s  
easy to see you're of elf-kind, but I have not seen your like before.  
Take this as a small token of the Lakemen’s gratitude for your help in  
the years after the dragon’s fall."  She handed him a green apple. He  
thanked her and took a tart, juicy bite. He closed his eyes and smiled,  
lost in the thought of kissing the prince’s mouth.  
 
The woman said, "Ya have the air of a man in love. Who’s the lucky  
lass?" 
 
"You are mistaken, madam," he said. "I am merely enjoying your  
delicious apple." He bowed, then continued down the street, breathing the 
air deeply. He thought, yes, I’m in love, deliriously in love. I want to  
shout it to the heavens! My greatest wish has come true, Legolas has  
become my lover. Oh, but he is magnificent! Every movement he makes, 
every word that escapes his lips, pains me with desire. If I could just bottle  
this moment, the way I feel now, and carry it with me for all eternity,  
I could never want for anything else. But I must be careful. Not appear  
out of control or I shall lose him. As before, he must come to me of  
his own will, every step of the way.  
 
Elwen became aware that he was being watched. He turned and saw 
Legolas standing several stalls away. The wind blew his dark green cloak 
so that it billowed behind him, and he had a slight smile on his fair face.  
Elwen’s heart soared at the sight. Then the prince strode forward and  
laid his hand on Elwen’s arm. 
 
"What brings an elf of Imladris to this far part of the world?" Legolas  
asked loudly. Then in a lowered voice, he said, "I’ve been tracking you  
for a quarter hour and you’ve not noticed. I began to wonder what could  
possibly be distracting you so." 
 
"What, Legolas, I never thought I’d run into you, old friend," Elwen  
also said loudly. He clapped him hard on the back. Then he whispered,  
"It’s only that I’m still sore from my long ride last night. I blame you  
for this sorrow." 
 
"Yes, well, be prepared for another hard ride tonight," Legolas said  
softly, his eyes crinkling in amusement. They began to walk slowly down  
through the maze of vendor’s stalls, some open to the air, some canopied  
against weather. People looked up and followed the passing elves with  
their eyes, many with awestruck expressions. Elwen noticed that Legolas  
was oblivious to his effect on people. 
 
"Have you concluded your business with your seneschal, then?" Elwen  
asked softly. 
 
"Yes, I’ll tell you more, later. But we parted understanding each  
other, I think." Legolas looked straight ahead as he spoke. They passed by 
a vendor hawking smoked fish. Legolas paused and pointed. 
 
"This, Elwen, is the one product that the Lakemen make for themselves."  
They passed by other vendors. "Here the commerce of the region, all  
comes together," the prince continued. "Over here, from the Mirkwood  
elves: fine woven fabrics, cured skins, wine, glassware, bows; there from  
the dwarves of Erebor: iron tools and fittings, armor, jewelry; this  
booth from the farmers in the lake region: wheat and barley, fruit, and  
wine-grapes; there fish from Esgaroth; smoked meats from the huntsmen 
that live against the borders of southeastern Mirkwood. It all comes here.  
And we are all dependent on the smooth operation of this trade. What an  
opportunity, don’t you think, for someone to try to control it to his  
advantage?" 
 
Elwen nodded and spoke softly, "Then, are things not going as smoothly  
as you’d thought with the agreement?" 
 
"Well see." Legolas paused at a large booth displaying chain mail,  
breast plates, swords, and knives. The prince picked up a long knife and  
slid it out of its scabbard. He looked down its length and then pressed  
his thumb on the edge. The hilt was decorated in an ornate filigree. "A  
good piece," Legolas said. "The work of the dwarves of Erebor."  
 
A dwarf stood up from a stool and came over to them. He wore the  
characteristic braided beard, forked and tucked into his belt. He seemed  
young, as his hair and beard were a solid brown with no trace of white. 
 
"I see ya know your blades, Master Elf. It is fine work, for sure. My  
uncle Oin makes them. Would ya be interested in that knife?" the dwarf  
asked in a rough, booming voice.  
 
"Perhaps," Legolas said. "How goes the work of the dwarves at the  
Lonely Mountain? I have not been here since the Battle of Five Armies 
five years ago, but I’m sure you’ve made great strides in repairing the  
dragon’s damage." 
 
"Oh yes," enthused the dwarf. "If you saw the mountain now, ya wouldn’t  
recognize it. We’ve been busy, Master Elf, rebuilding. We’ve cleared  
out the great hall, repaired the bridges, and road. We’ve filled it with  
light again. Soon, it’ll be even more magnificent than the time before  
the dragon. Though, I daresay, it’ll be quite a while before the worm’s  
nasty stench has been completely cleared away. Fah!" 
 
"And the Lakemen have done a good job rebuilding this town, wouldn’t  
you say," Legolas said, looking around. "The trade almost seems back to  
normal." 
 
"Yes, we stand to do well here, as the roads improve, and the orcs are  
now fewer, due to the Battle." He lowered his voice. "This town  
wouldn’t be here without the generosity of the dwarves. We’ve been 
providing labor and supplies for the rebuilding, ya know." 
 
"Indeed?" Legolas arched one eyebrow and looked at Elwen. "And who 
are you dealing with here?" 
 
"Why the Guild, of course," the dwarf said. Then he looked at them.  
"Yer the second elf this morning who has come around asking questions.  
Now, are ya going ta buy that knife?" 
 
"It depends," Legolas said. "What are you asking?" 
 
"Two gold sovereigns," the dwarf said. 
 
"Too much," Legolas replied. "I’ll offer you one." 
 
"Ya can’t buy a finer knife, Master Elf. One and a half." 
 
"One and a quarter, final offer," Legolas said with a smile. 
 
"Done, then," grumbled the dwarf.  
 
Legolas fished the money from the pouch on his belt and took the knife.  
They walked on down the street. Legolas handed the knife to Elwen, who  
looked at it carefully.  
 
"Fine piece, for a good price," Elwen said. He handed it back. 
 
"No, keep it," Legolas said.  
 
"What?" 
 
"It’s yours. I notice you don’t carry one, and you never know when  
someone is going to try and kiss you without your leave." He turned and  
grinned at Elwen. 
 
"Yes, it would come in handy if a certain prince tried anything," Elwen  
laughed, then he said seriously, "‘Tis a fine gift. I thank you,  
friend." He threaded the scabbard onto his belt. 
 
"Come on, let’s buy some lunch," Legolas said, striding forward rapidly  
so Elwen had to take a couple of long steps to keep up. 
 
************* 
 
Audun and his son Goran sat in the common room at the Dragon’s Bane  
Inn. Nissa had brought them some stewed quail and a loaf of bread. Audun  
looked up as Thorvald came into the room. 
 
"Come, sit and eat," Audun said, pulling out a chair.  
 
"I have some news," Thorvald said, settling down into the chair.  
"Reports of several elves asking questions in the market place. Potentially  
embarrassing questions." He pulled a wing off one of the quail and began  
to devour it. 
 
"Curse them. We should a known they might look for tidings themselves.  
Do ya know what they’ve found out?" Audun asked. 
 
"Not exactly. We daren’t question people too closely or it would look  
suspicious," Thorvald said around a mouthful. 
 
"We need one of our own tailing them. Goran, ya get out there and  
follow them," Audun said. "Report back everyone they talk to. Try to get  
close enough to hear what they’re sa