A/N : I had a few ideas for some of Legolas' past romantic exploits

A/N : I had a few ideas for some of Legolas' past romantic exploits. He must have had quite a few centuries worth of experience, so any interesting ideas, please contribute!

Chapter 1

Aragorn reached forward and touched his toes, grimacing as the joints in his back

creaked and cracked ominously like the twigs beneath his feet.

Loath though Aragorn was to admit it, he needed the rest badly. Three days since the release of Boromir at the Falls of Rauros, and yet the orcs that bore Merry and Pippin away showed no sign of slowing. Against Legolas' urging to continue running through the night, he had insisted that missing the trail in the darkness would cost them even more time, and so what remained of the fellowship had stopped for the night.

The fire crackled fitfully nearby, sputtering in the draught evening. The fields that surrounded Rohan were hot and sunny by day, and cold by night. Some distance away, Legolas lay on the ground, eyes closed – not in fatigue, but in thought.

Aragorn moved closer to the Elf, feeling and odd stirring in his emotions. The firelight danced in his golden hair, and created dark shadows on his fair skin. Arwen's name came to mind for a moment, but her beauty was different; an ethereal, otherworldly beauty that reminded Aragorn of moonlight on the river and shadows lit with stars.

Unconsciously, Aragorn reached out and stroked Legolas' hair, before coming to with a start. He made to withdraw his hand quickly, but Legolas reached out and caught his hand in his own, eyes still closed.

"Don't stop, Aragorn," he said calmly.

Heart beating and confusion in his mind, Aragorn ran both his hands through the fine golden locks, then placed his fingers on the Elf's temple and rubbed them gently.

For awhile both the friends remained silent, Aragorn stewing in his own doubts and misgivings.

Legolas broke the silence with a chuckle. "You always knew how to pamper, Aragorn."

"I…" Aragorn could think of nothing to say, and settled with a heavy sigh instead. The fate of the hobbits weighed heavily in his mind.

Suddenly, Legolas pulled Aragorn down by the top of his tunic and caught his lips in a kiss, and turned over. Flat on his back, too stunned to do anything except inhale the wild, woody scent of the Elven prince, Aragorn struggled, then relaxed, and then leaned into the kiss.

It was a chaste kiss, and Legolas tapered it off before long, sitting upright. Aragorn was breathless and cross eyed with surprise.

"Legolas!" he managed to gasp after finding his own tongue.

Legolas smiled, then broke into laughter, a light sound akin to a merry brook rushing over the riverbed.

"What's so funny?" Aragorn growled, a crease marring his brows. He realized, with sudden guilt, that he had not pulled away from the kiss. Legolas continued to laugh in an almost infuriating manner.

"Legolas, you are my dearest friend, closer than a brother, but - "

"Nay, Aragorn…read no more into the action. As your heart belongs to Arwen Undomiel, so mine belongs with the sea…but at times even we of the firstborn get lonely, and sate our desires as we can," said Legolas evenly.

Aragorn shook his head, but relief was evident in his eyes. "You were lucky Gimli wasn't around," he said.

"Ah, the dwarf has made it a matter of honour to return with a meal on his back, to prove his worth as a hunter. His dwarven pride would not concede defeat to my greater hunting prowess, and he offered to catch dinner tonight," Legolas said, eyes bright with mirth, "with that unwieldy stone cutter he calls an axe!"

"So you had everything arranged!" Aragorn snorted.

"Aye, and a very interesting experience it was…one of my more amusing, in fact."

"Was I not your first?"

"My, my. Do I detect jealousy? My dear human, I have walked Middle Earth for close to three thousand of your mortal years, there is little that I – wait, do you mean to say that other than Arwen and I, you have never experienced another?" something sulky and childish in Aragorn's question made Legolas change midrift and stare incredulously at the him.

Silence.

"Aragorn! Eighty years is the lifespan of a normal human being, I would have expected more from you! For one who has kept up with a dwarf, I would say, "hardy are the race of Elendil"; now I would say "sanctimonious are the race of Elendil!"

"My duties have hardly allowed for frivolous flings by brothels or -"

"Brothels!" Legolas sniffed. "A barbarous human invention for the corrupt and the immoral."

"Tell me, then," Aragorn said, sitting in front of his friend.

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me about your experiences," he pressed.

Legolas raised his eyebrows, then grinned. "Really? Which one? I have had quite a few…"

"The first one, then," Aragorn said, grinning as well.

"Ah, the first…" Legolas' eyes half closed as he delved deep into his memory. He found it, and the joy was evident in his eyes as he recalled it. For a moment, he was the Legolas of centuries ago – he looked as he always had, but was more passionate, impetuous,

untempered by wisdom and sorrow.

"Listen up, mortal, and you may learn something," he said, and Aragorn moved closer eagerly to listen to the story.

End of chapter 1!

Hope you enjoyed it! As I said earlier, all ideas are welcome. Also, I'm having a few problems with the internet browser….please bear with the awful paragraphing! Sorry!