A Night in the Hammock
By juliet's rose
Disclaimer: If I owned either of these characters, I'd know how to ride horses bareback across Gondor or speak Elvish. Alas, but no. They belong to the Professor.
A/N: Obviously, many people have probably given up hope that I'd ever continue this story. I have one thing to say to that. "There is always hope." (TTT, Aragorn) God, I love that line. Anyways...here we go. I really don't know if I will continue this fic at all, but if I get a good response (over 6 reviews for this chapter), then it will be more likely. R&R!
Chapter 3: Of a Song and (More) Hammocks!
Arwen awoke to a shaft of moonlight surrounding her. The sky was velvety black lit only by the luminous moon. She got up, careful not to wake the sleeping Aragorn, and ambled over to the bluff overlooking Rivendell.
Could she ever leave this place? Ever not ride through the forests and splash in the streams? And yet...how could she not leave Rivendell, not follow her love when the time came? Arwen tried to clear her mind, to make it as smooth and still as a mountain lake, but to no avail. She knew where Estel's destiny lay, and she could only hope that—"Oh!" Arwen gasped as a warm hand encircled her from behind. Another hand came up to caress her hand, stroking it lovingly and draping the shimmering raven length of it over her shoulder.
"Awake so early?" Arwen shuddered with pleasure. That voice never failed to warm her.
"Perhaps...or maybe you are simply awake late..." Arwen smiled at Aragorn, leaning back into his arms while he continued.
"I seem to remember that we were both up late, due to some particular 'actions' on the part of one elf maiden who found it funny to dump her Ranger on the ground, no?"
Arwen giggled lightly. "While we're discussing ourselves in the third person, I will add that that particular Ranger seemed to have no objections..." Arwen turned around to face Aragorn, circling her arms around his neck. A thought entered her head. Would he do it, if she asked? Perhaps...well, there was no harm in finding out.
"Aragorn, will you sing to me?"
Aragorn half-smiled, surprised. He never sang for anyone...not out of any embarrassment, or shyness, but because it was a private side of him that no one had yet to witness. He considered the luminous elf in front of him. If he were to sing to anyone in his life, it would be her.
He stepped away from her and then reached out to grasp her hand, bending to brush his lips against her moonlit skin, all the while keeping eye contact.
"If milady desires a song, I shall do my best to entertain her."
Arwen smiled widely and led Aragorn back to their little grove, by the hammock. She lowered herself carefully into the hammock and crossed her hands behind her head, looking up at Aragorn with an expectant smile.
He started to clear his throat, before realizing that he was towering above her. Not liking the difference in their heights, he knelt down next to the hammock, his face a few inches from hers, and began his song.
Arwen gaped at Aragorn. Oh yes, he could sing. His rugged appearance and gruff voice melted away as the music flowed out of him. And not only could he sing, but he was singing the Lay of Luthien, which always moved her to tears.
When Aragorn finished Arwen just lay there, tears pricking the corners of her eyes while she gazed at him through a haze of love. Aragorn let out a breath he'd been holding. She had liked his singing. That meant a lot to him, especially because she'd been the first person he shared his music with.
Arwen raised her head slightly, imploring her love to lie next to her in the hammock. Aragorn caught her glance and smiled slightly, knowing full well that he would end up on the ground again if he attempted to lie next to Arwen. But her eyes were too beautiful for him to stand, and he, ever so slowly, laid down next to her.
For a moment everything seemed to work alright, and he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. However, Arwen had something else in mind and, using her body weight, flipped the hammock over, landing straight on top of Aragorn once more. The man grinned sheepishly, and was opening his mouth to say something when Arwen's soft lips pressed down on his, melding and twisting in and out of his mouth and teeth. Aragorn groaned inside his throat, his hands smoothing themselves over Arwen's shoulders, down, over the small of her back, down...
Arwen sighed with happiness as Aragorn responded to her kiss, running his hands over her back and down to her bottom, where he pressed her up against him. She deepened the already passionate kiss, running her hands over his face and through his hair, reveling in the pleasure that this one man could bring her.
Aragorn was certainly enjoying this moonlight embrace, but certain parts of him began to feel a little uncomfortable. He wished he had changed into looser fitting trousers before leaving dinner. Arwen sensed his discomfort and sat up, bringing him with her. She now sat straddling him, her hands making heated circles under his shirt. Aragorn's mouth moved to her ear as she bent her head back in pleasure, her hands grasping at his hair, his shirt.
Aragorn bit back at moan himself as Arwen writhed under his lips. He began to wonder if he could possibly be more aroused than he already was. When Arwen's trailing hands reached his pants, he growled softly. Yes, he could get more aroused....
Arwen lay beside Aragorn as the sun came up. Their cloaks over the soft grass made an ideal bed, as Aragorn had declined to take his chances with the hammock. Arwen sighed for the hundredth time, this time with content. Could things get any better?
Disclaimer: If I owned either of these characters, I'd know how to ride horses bareback across Gondor or speak Elvish. Alas, but no. They belong to the Professor.
A/N: Obviously, many people have probably given up hope that I'd ever continue this story. I have one thing to say to that. "There is always hope." (TTT, Aragorn) God, I love that line. Anyways...here we go. I really don't know if I will continue this fic at all, but if I get a good response (over 6 reviews for this chapter), then it will be more likely. R&R!
Chapter 3: Of a Song and (More) Hammocks!
Arwen awoke to a shaft of moonlight surrounding her. The sky was velvety black lit only by the luminous moon. She got up, careful not to wake the sleeping Aragorn, and ambled over to the bluff overlooking Rivendell.
Could she ever leave this place? Ever not ride through the forests and splash in the streams? And yet...how could she not leave Rivendell, not follow her love when the time came? Arwen tried to clear her mind, to make it as smooth and still as a mountain lake, but to no avail. She knew where Estel's destiny lay, and she could only hope that—"Oh!" Arwen gasped as a warm hand encircled her from behind. Another hand came up to caress her hand, stroking it lovingly and draping the shimmering raven length of it over her shoulder.
"Awake so early?" Arwen shuddered with pleasure. That voice never failed to warm her.
"Perhaps...or maybe you are simply awake late..." Arwen smiled at Aragorn, leaning back into his arms while he continued.
"I seem to remember that we were both up late, due to some particular 'actions' on the part of one elf maiden who found it funny to dump her Ranger on the ground, no?"
Arwen giggled lightly. "While we're discussing ourselves in the third person, I will add that that particular Ranger seemed to have no objections..." Arwen turned around to face Aragorn, circling her arms around his neck. A thought entered her head. Would he do it, if she asked? Perhaps...well, there was no harm in finding out.
"Aragorn, will you sing to me?"
Aragorn half-smiled, surprised. He never sang for anyone...not out of any embarrassment, or shyness, but because it was a private side of him that no one had yet to witness. He considered the luminous elf in front of him. If he were to sing to anyone in his life, it would be her.
He stepped away from her and then reached out to grasp her hand, bending to brush his lips against her moonlit skin, all the while keeping eye contact.
"If milady desires a song, I shall do my best to entertain her."
Arwen smiled widely and led Aragorn back to their little grove, by the hammock. She lowered herself carefully into the hammock and crossed her hands behind her head, looking up at Aragorn with an expectant smile.
He started to clear his throat, before realizing that he was towering above her. Not liking the difference in their heights, he knelt down next to the hammock, his face a few inches from hers, and began his song.
Arwen gaped at Aragorn. Oh yes, he could sing. His rugged appearance and gruff voice melted away as the music flowed out of him. And not only could he sing, but he was singing the Lay of Luthien, which always moved her to tears.
When Aragorn finished Arwen just lay there, tears pricking the corners of her eyes while she gazed at him through a haze of love. Aragorn let out a breath he'd been holding. She had liked his singing. That meant a lot to him, especially because she'd been the first person he shared his music with.
Arwen raised her head slightly, imploring her love to lie next to her in the hammock. Aragorn caught her glance and smiled slightly, knowing full well that he would end up on the ground again if he attempted to lie next to Arwen. But her eyes were too beautiful for him to stand, and he, ever so slowly, laid down next to her.
For a moment everything seemed to work alright, and he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. However, Arwen had something else in mind and, using her body weight, flipped the hammock over, landing straight on top of Aragorn once more. The man grinned sheepishly, and was opening his mouth to say something when Arwen's soft lips pressed down on his, melding and twisting in and out of his mouth and teeth. Aragorn groaned inside his throat, his hands smoothing themselves over Arwen's shoulders, down, over the small of her back, down...
Arwen sighed with happiness as Aragorn responded to her kiss, running his hands over her back and down to her bottom, where he pressed her up against him. She deepened the already passionate kiss, running her hands over his face and through his hair, reveling in the pleasure that this one man could bring her.
Aragorn was certainly enjoying this moonlight embrace, but certain parts of him began to feel a little uncomfortable. He wished he had changed into looser fitting trousers before leaving dinner. Arwen sensed his discomfort and sat up, bringing him with her. She now sat straddling him, her hands making heated circles under his shirt. Aragorn's mouth moved to her ear as she bent her head back in pleasure, her hands grasping at his hair, his shirt.
Aragorn bit back at moan himself as Arwen writhed under his lips. He began to wonder if he could possibly be more aroused than he already was. When Arwen's trailing hands reached his pants, he growled softly. Yes, he could get more aroused....
Arwen lay beside Aragorn as the sun came up. Their cloaks over the soft grass made an ideal bed, as Aragorn had declined to take his chances with the hammock. Arwen sighed for the hundredth time, this time with content. Could things get any better?