This is my first LOTR Fanfic! I hope you guys like it, I tried my best! I warn you, more is to come! ;)
I do not own any of this, and I make no money of this story. All the characters belong to Tolkien.
WARNING: This is SLASH, between Aragorn and Legolas. Some more might occur later, with Elrond and Glorfindel. I don't know yet.
Dawn creeps over the horizon. The mountains surrounding the once dark land of Mordor are alive and shimmering in the late July sun. I am standing on the balcony. The Royal balcony. Why? Because I want to. He does not mind, and neither do I. It is beautiful, the dawn. The glowing sun, the blue sky, and the lush fields. Only fifteen years ago, it was dark land, filled with shadows. Now, after the war, and in time for the first reunion of the Fellowship, it is green, and rebuilt. Minas Tirith is a city of stone, and yet I, a wood-elf, have found it pleasant to live here, it is almost as easy as in my real home.
Turning around to face the Royal bedchamber, I notice the King is still asleep. Although it is early, he stirs, and I know he is about to wake. I walk back inside, and lie down beside him, pulling the sheets back over me. The bed is soft, the pillows plump, and the sheets cool. There is no heat left, nothing to betray everything that happened last night. Aragorn, King of Gondor, stirs again, and moans softly as the shroud of dreams falls of him. He turns onto his side, facing away from me. I raise myself onto one elbow, my other arm slipping around his broad chest. His eyelids flutter, noticing my touch, and he yawns.
"...Las?"
"Good morrow, sleepyhead." I say with a smirk.
"Go away. I'm tired." He grumbles, as he attempts to pull the covers over his head.
"It is dawn. Why sleep more?" I ask him, placing my nose on the back of his head, my face nestling in his dark curls. He smells like heaven.
Aragorn turns to face me. "Because we spent half the night awake, and I'm not as tireless as some Elves. Matter of fact, I'm not an Elf at all."
I fall back into the pillows, and whisper in his ear, "Well, you seem pretty awake. Not tired at all, matter of fact."
Before I notice it, there is a pillow in my face, and my lover rolls on top of me.
"Prepare to die, Elf." He says through his smile, as he pulls the pillow back off my face. His grey eyes twinkle, as they do often when we are alone.
I push him off, but too hard. He rolls over, once, twice, and falls over the edge, hitting his head against the floor. He curses, loudly. I gasp, it is not what I meant to do. As Aragorn groans, I roll over to the edge of the bed, and look over the edge. He lies on his back, on the hard marble floor.
"It's sad, don't you think, that at the first reunion of our Fellowship, the Prince of Mirkwood must be executed, after almost murdering the King of Gondor." My love says, as he grins up at me.
He stands up, rubs the back of his head, and pounces on me. He is heavy, all muscle, and pins me down against the covers.
"You're going to pay for this, darling." He says, with an evil smile.
He leans forward, and brushes his lips over mine, and then moves them towards my left ear. I gasp. He wouldn't, would he?
He does.
His lips sweep over my ear, the sensitive skin already feeling pain at the light contact. His elbows pin my arms down, and I cannot move properly, not enough to get away. His hand moves to my right ear, and starts rubbing the tip at the same moment his mouth closes around my left. The pain is excruciating. His teeth bite into my earlobe while his fingers massage the top of my other ear, a brash movement. I bite my lip, trying not to scream, and draw blood. Aragorn adjusts his position, his free hand now holding my neck, in what is almost a choke hold. His legs stroke against mine, his hips rubbing against the bottom of my stomach, for I am just taller than him. All I can move, is my feet and my eyes.
His tongue slips out from between his teeth, and mimics the movements of his right hand. The latter leaves my ear alone; all that is left is a painful throbbing. Instead, his fingers twirl in my hair, locating one of my braids. He begins to unravel it, as his tongue leaves my ear and his teeth return, this time to the point of my ear. He bites down hard, making my eyes tear.
"Please, Aragorn. Stop. Please stop." I whimper, finally finding my voice and throwing away all dignity I had left.
The pain is causing not only my ears to throb, but also my head, and even his breathing near my ear becomes painful.
"As you wish, love. I hope you've learned your lesson about pushing me off my own bed." He whispers into my ear.
My eyes are shut tight as he adjusts himself and releases my limbs. He still rests on top of me, but he is less heavy, having shifted his weight.
"It was an accident, Ara. I didn't mean to." I say softly, barely audible.
"I know, darling. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted that harshly." He says, a bit too loudly for my still throbbing ears.
I whimper, as his hands move behind my head, and continue to untangle the few braids that are left. He is a sweet man, and an amazing King, but he is rough. Very rough.
His lips brush over mine again, and one of his feet rubs against my calf. He whispers softly, words of love with no meaning but that he is sorry. One of his hands leaves my hair and brushes over my forehead. It rests there, and as I open my eyes I notice his knit brows, his worried eyes.
"I'll be alright, Aragorn. It just hurts."
"I know, Legolas. But still, your face is very red, and so are your ears. I think I may have gone too far this time. My apologies." He replies, his worried features close to my face.
I groan, and he rolls off me, his hand still behind my neck, his other moving to his own head.
"You know, as rough as you are, Aragorn, you truly are the perfect Consort for the future King of Mirkwood."
"What! I, your Consort! No, my dear friend, I'm afraid you are mine! Have been for the past fifteen years, if I may add!" He splutters, not feigning his shock.
"You owe me this, love, for the treatment of my ears. You put me through such torture once a week, at least. And Mirkwood would like their land back. My family used to rule all the land, from Ered Mithrin to the South of Gondor. We will rule together, and be invincible!" I reply, turning onto my side to face him, and bringing my lips in full contact with his. Kissing tends to diminish my headaches.
He breaks free, and tries to push me back into the pillows. His eyes, previously slightly shadowed from sleep, are now bright, and filled with lust. I hold my place, and grin, as he struggles to roll me onto my back.
"Las! Please!" He whines. When he sees I will not let him win this battle, he pretends to pout.
"I do believe it's my turn now, Your Majesty." I say in reply, one of my hands grabbing the nape of his neck and the other sliding under his chest.
As I embrace him, he slips back against the down pillows, his grey eyes begging me to kiss him. I lean in, and let my lips glide over his, a soft sigh escaping his mouth. I caress his mouth, moving my lips slowly, rhythmically with the birds that sing outside the window. He would not notice, of course. Humans are, after all, far to ignorant of such 'trivial' things.
My lover's hands slide over my back, down towards my buttocks. He rests one hand just above, and the other keeps moving down, cupping my ass gently. As I open my eyes briefly, I see his own, pleading with me to intensify the kiss. I move one hand over his waist, the other through his curly hair. Before my tongue even reaches his lips, he opens his mouth, allowing me access to his sweet, moist cave.
As our tongues massage each other's, the hand which was on my ass moves under the cloth of my breeches, and carefully tugs them down. Aragorn does the same to his own breeches, and before we know it, we are engulfed by passion.
I finally break the kiss, and nudge his legs open with my knee. They part easily, as the King of Gondor smiles at me. He pulls my head down towards his, but instead of kissing me, he nuzzles my neck instead. He kisses me lightly, his hands moving through my now quite messy hair.
As my hand wraps itself around his stiff member, he moans slightly, nudging me onwards. I enter him, softly, smoothly. Another moan escapes his lips. Humans are so noisy. I see his eyes open again, and roll my own.
"Stop it, love. Just keep going."
"As you wish, my King."
I start moving my hips, to the same rhythm I had moved my lips earlier. At the same time as my thrusts, I stroke his length, moans escaping him again and again. I can feel my body heating up, and know that my own release must be near. It's faster than usual, possibly because I have so little left after last night.
I thrust one last time, deeply, and harder than before. I throw my head back, as I find myself in full ecstasy. I pull out, and my lover stares at me, pleads with me to continue stroking him. I shake my head, and a disappointed look appears in his eyes. I grin down on him, and slide down the length of his body.
As I take him into my mouth, he groans yet again. And again I roll my eyes.
"Oh, Legolas! Please! Please!" Aragorn cries, as my tongue caresses his member. I bob my head slightly, being rewarded (or is it punished?) with more groans from my mate. I keep my lips wrapped around him until he, too, finds his release.
Swallowing, I come back up, kissing him tenderly on his collarbone. His hands stroke through my hair, and one comes to rest on my back, on an old scar.
"You never told me how you got this..." he whispers, musing with my hair, before I silence him with a last deep, tender, kiss.
To be continued...