Name : Suspended in Time
Author : Swilite
Rating : R
Disclaimer : The only Aragorn I own is my action figure. Sadly, I don't even own a Legolas action figure. I need therapy.
Summary : Legolas reflects on his relationship with Aragorn.
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To hear the music I was listening to while I wrote this fic, go here :
www:(dot)elflady(dot)com/legolasgreenleaf/multimedia/troyclips.htm
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I cannot help but smile as I watch you, your unruly hair lying in disobedient waves beside your face and strewn carelessly across the pillow. Your face is flushed and your dark lashes rest upon your cheeks. I know not how long I have been watching you sleep, for right now I wish never to leave this moment. In dreams, you appear ageless, the lines of the years disappear from your peaceful face, and I am able to believe that it is not a man that I lie beside, but rather a god.
I feel a familiar hardness press against my thigh and know, without a doubt, that in dreams you are reliving the events of last night. Your breathing hitches and I smile, pressing the lightest of kisses against your parted lips. Even in sleep, you cannot ignore the action, and your mouth comes alive under my lips, opening willingly and closing gently around my tongue.
The kiss lasts for seconds only, and when I withdraw you are no closer to consciousness then you were previously.
I wish not to know that amount of years in which we have been friends, for to put a number on such a cause only brings me to realize how long has passed, which in turn brings a bout of sorrow as I recall the youth you once were, the first time we made love.
You made the same sounds then as you do now, those beautiful moans and pleas falling from your lips as I move inside you, touching you in a way no other has. You are shameless in your attempts to encourage me, baring yourself wantonly before me, aware that I cannot resist the sight of your willing submissiveness.
Yet it is not your submissiveness that brings me to you each night, for I view you not as an inferior, but rather as an equal. If truth be told, I thank the Valar daily for giving me your affections when there are so many others who seek them. I am not the first elf to lust over you, and though I am the Prince of Mirkwood there are certainly other who could offer you more then I. Yet is it my affection that you desire, and my body that you crave. But never was our relationship entirely physical, for in your arms I can attain a sense of tranquility and compassion I am unable to find elsewhere. I know, and the feeling is mutual, that what remains between us is profound emotional security, one I would not trade for all the wealth on Arda.
I smile as I recall the days we have spent together, the emotional journey we have undertook side by side. I have stood by you while you grew from a boy into a man, aided you along the journey that was inevitable. I feel a sharp pain when I think of how much you have aged, and my fingers trace the outline of your face, every scar and line forever etched into my memory. Your weathered skin feels like velvet under my hand as I run my fingers along the familiar curves of your cheekbones and the dips of your temples, methodically tracing the contours of your face. The image you create is a familiar one, and one I shall never tire of seeing.
The first time I was privileged to such a spectacle you were a young man, hardly out of your youth. I remember vividly the day we first met, for the look upon your face back then is the same one I receive even now, full of desire, intrigue, and unabashed worship. I felt likewise towards you, and the sole thing that has changed between us since is the addition of a respect so surpassing it goes beyond what I can explain.
Back then I believed you to be beyond my reach, for even though I did not doubt you craved me in the same manner I desired you, I felt obligated to respect the ties between your family and mine. I felt that it would be inappropriate to seek my pleasures from Lord Elrond's adoptive son, and so I kept my distance, dismissing it only in my fantasies. Imagine my surprise when it was you sought me out! You came to my room late at night, even though you were afraid that I would turn you away.
But I did not. Back then our coupling could hardly have been called love making, for there was none of the tenderness we now exhibit, simply primal lust. I claimed you roughly while you writhed in my embrace, pinned vertical by my chest against your own and the solid wall against which I claimed you.
Over the years, as our relationship developed into something much more profound, our sex changed as well. When I claim you now it is with all the tenderness and compassion that you deserve, moving in all the possible ways that bring you the most pleasure. Now, when you cry my name, the thrill of the word upon your lips causes me to tremble, my flesh tingling with the proclamation of the proclamation of love that cry carries along with it.
In the same manner my flesh tingles when I feel your lips upon it, mouthing my neck and chest, driving me mad with need. I already know where you will pause, my hips, my nipples, and my navel, but that does nothing to subdue the sheer ecstasy I experience. Perhaps knowing what will come only makes me more impatient, which in turn leads me to writhe with wanton abandon as your mouth caresses my body.
You stir, drawing my attention away from my thoughts and to the present. I drop one hand to the column of flesh between your legs and your body arches ever so slightly. A quiet moan falls from your lips, and when my hand circles your organ and slides slowly upwards your eyes flutter open.
We lock gazes, and your hazy eyes silent beg me to continue even though your voice does not. I can see that sleep still clings to you, and that you are not completely cognizant yet as your lashes bat against your cheeks, trying to chase away the dreams that have blurred into a pleasant reality.
I lean forwards until my face is before your own and blow gently, causing your eyes to close. I wish for you to remain in the hazy state you still reside within, and you seem to comply as you relax your neck and your head falls back into the pillow. Your eyes remain closed, and your breathing evens ever so slightly when you cease to fight your body.
My hand moves again and your legs spread, a quiet moan bidding me to continue. I do not refuse you, for to see you smile so is pleasurable for me. Though warmth pools in my loin as I watch my slim fingers rise and fall, it is not enough to distract me, and I continue my ministrations upon your body until you come with a gasp, my name hanging in the air.
Only then do I bow my head, kissing you thoroughly. You respond immediately, caressing my tongue with your own when it slides into your mouth, your lips working against my own as I tip your head back, inhaling your intoxicating scent. The taste you leave upon my lips leaves me hungering for more, and I press my mouth more firmly against yours. One of your hands comes to rest at the back of my head, twining in my hair. My tongue plunders your mouth, and your moan of content vibrates against my lips.
I feel your tongue against my own, encouraging me to continue. Your lips melt against me and wish that this night would never end, for to be here with you is all I could ever ask for.
When I withdraw, your eyes are still closed and your lips parted. You remain still, savoring the moment, then your lids flutter and your eyes lock with my own. You smile and I return the gesture, feeling one of your arms slip around my waist. You nuzzle your head into my neck and I can feel your breath on my skin. Your belly is wet, stained with seed, but I care not as one of your legs slip between my own, entangling our limbs. You give a small sigh and I close my eyes, draping one arm over your shoulders.
The gentle rising and falling of your chest and your warm breath against my neck lulls me to sleep, and though I wish for this moment to remain suspended in time, I feel no sorrow at it's passing. A small smile appears on my face before my lids fall to half mast and I am claimed by the realm of elven dreams.
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Please review, I like to know when my work is appreciated.
Author : Swilite
Rating : R
Disclaimer : The only Aragorn I own is my action figure. Sadly, I don't even own a Legolas action figure. I need therapy.
Summary : Legolas reflects on his relationship with Aragorn.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
www:(dot)elflady(dot)com/legolasgreenleaf/multimedia/troyclips.htm
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I cannot help but smile as I watch you, your unruly hair lying in disobedient waves beside your face and strewn carelessly across the pillow. Your face is flushed and your dark lashes rest upon your cheeks. I know not how long I have been watching you sleep, for right now I wish never to leave this moment. In dreams, you appear ageless, the lines of the years disappear from your peaceful face, and I am able to believe that it is not a man that I lie beside, but rather a god.
I feel a familiar hardness press against my thigh and know, without a doubt, that in dreams you are reliving the events of last night. Your breathing hitches and I smile, pressing the lightest of kisses against your parted lips. Even in sleep, you cannot ignore the action, and your mouth comes alive under my lips, opening willingly and closing gently around my tongue.
The kiss lasts for seconds only, and when I withdraw you are no closer to consciousness then you were previously.
I wish not to know that amount of years in which we have been friends, for to put a number on such a cause only brings me to realize how long has passed, which in turn brings a bout of sorrow as I recall the youth you once were, the first time we made love.
You made the same sounds then as you do now, those beautiful moans and pleas falling from your lips as I move inside you, touching you in a way no other has. You are shameless in your attempts to encourage me, baring yourself wantonly before me, aware that I cannot resist the sight of your willing submissiveness.
Yet it is not your submissiveness that brings me to you each night, for I view you not as an inferior, but rather as an equal. If truth be told, I thank the Valar daily for giving me your affections when there are so many others who seek them. I am not the first elf to lust over you, and though I am the Prince of Mirkwood there are certainly other who could offer you more then I. Yet is it my affection that you desire, and my body that you crave. But never was our relationship entirely physical, for in your arms I can attain a sense of tranquility and compassion I am unable to find elsewhere. I know, and the feeling is mutual, that what remains between us is profound emotional security, one I would not trade for all the wealth on Arda.
I smile as I recall the days we have spent together, the emotional journey we have undertook side by side. I have stood by you while you grew from a boy into a man, aided you along the journey that was inevitable. I feel a sharp pain when I think of how much you have aged, and my fingers trace the outline of your face, every scar and line forever etched into my memory. Your weathered skin feels like velvet under my hand as I run my fingers along the familiar curves of your cheekbones and the dips of your temples, methodically tracing the contours of your face. The image you create is a familiar one, and one I shall never tire of seeing.
The first time I was privileged to such a spectacle you were a young man, hardly out of your youth. I remember vividly the day we first met, for the look upon your face back then is the same one I receive even now, full of desire, intrigue, and unabashed worship. I felt likewise towards you, and the sole thing that has changed between us since is the addition of a respect so surpassing it goes beyond what I can explain.
Back then I believed you to be beyond my reach, for even though I did not doubt you craved me in the same manner I desired you, I felt obligated to respect the ties between your family and mine. I felt that it would be inappropriate to seek my pleasures from Lord Elrond's adoptive son, and so I kept my distance, dismissing it only in my fantasies. Imagine my surprise when it was you sought me out! You came to my room late at night, even though you were afraid that I would turn you away.
But I did not. Back then our coupling could hardly have been called love making, for there was none of the tenderness we now exhibit, simply primal lust. I claimed you roughly while you writhed in my embrace, pinned vertical by my chest against your own and the solid wall against which I claimed you.
Over the years, as our relationship developed into something much more profound, our sex changed as well. When I claim you now it is with all the tenderness and compassion that you deserve, moving in all the possible ways that bring you the most pleasure. Now, when you cry my name, the thrill of the word upon your lips causes me to tremble, my flesh tingling with the proclamation of the proclamation of love that cry carries along with it.
In the same manner my flesh tingles when I feel your lips upon it, mouthing my neck and chest, driving me mad with need. I already know where you will pause, my hips, my nipples, and my navel, but that does nothing to subdue the sheer ecstasy I experience. Perhaps knowing what will come only makes me more impatient, which in turn leads me to writhe with wanton abandon as your mouth caresses my body.
You stir, drawing my attention away from my thoughts and to the present. I drop one hand to the column of flesh between your legs and your body arches ever so slightly. A quiet moan falls from your lips, and when my hand circles your organ and slides slowly upwards your eyes flutter open.
We lock gazes, and your hazy eyes silent beg me to continue even though your voice does not. I can see that sleep still clings to you, and that you are not completely cognizant yet as your lashes bat against your cheeks, trying to chase away the dreams that have blurred into a pleasant reality.
I lean forwards until my face is before your own and blow gently, causing your eyes to close. I wish for you to remain in the hazy state you still reside within, and you seem to comply as you relax your neck and your head falls back into the pillow. Your eyes remain closed, and your breathing evens ever so slightly when you cease to fight your body.
My hand moves again and your legs spread, a quiet moan bidding me to continue. I do not refuse you, for to see you smile so is pleasurable for me. Though warmth pools in my loin as I watch my slim fingers rise and fall, it is not enough to distract me, and I continue my ministrations upon your body until you come with a gasp, my name hanging in the air.
Only then do I bow my head, kissing you thoroughly. You respond immediately, caressing my tongue with your own when it slides into your mouth, your lips working against my own as I tip your head back, inhaling your intoxicating scent. The taste you leave upon my lips leaves me hungering for more, and I press my mouth more firmly against yours. One of your hands comes to rest at the back of my head, twining in my hair. My tongue plunders your mouth, and your moan of content vibrates against my lips.
I feel your tongue against my own, encouraging me to continue. Your lips melt against me and wish that this night would never end, for to be here with you is all I could ever ask for.
When I withdraw, your eyes are still closed and your lips parted. You remain still, savoring the moment, then your lids flutter and your eyes lock with my own. You smile and I return the gesture, feeling one of your arms slip around my waist. You nuzzle your head into my neck and I can feel your breath on my skin. Your belly is wet, stained with seed, but I care not as one of your legs slip between my own, entangling our limbs. You give a small sigh and I close my eyes, draping one arm over your shoulders.
The gentle rising and falling of your chest and your warm breath against my neck lulls me to sleep, and though I wish for this moment to remain suspended in time, I feel no sorrow at it's passing. A small smile appears on my face before my lids fall to half mast and I am claimed by the realm of elven dreams.
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