a/n: wholly super long wait!  But good news and bad.  I have a computer now to work at my leisure, but I do not have ready access to the net.  Mainly being because my new comp is actually very old. lol  But, the main problem was writing, not posting so I'll make due and with the help of Apollo and every other available God that wouldn't mind, I won't have a break so long again.  And now a recap:

Battle of Helm's Deep is over, and now with powers finally released and everyone wholly intact, the broken Fellowship and riders of Rohan are heading to Isengard to reign in Saruman.  Now the warriors break for the night just outside of Isengard in the plains...

---

Dusk deepened, a smattering of cold stars glaring week light.  The clusters of men slowly broke apart most milling about and dragging their feet as though afraid to lay alone in the growing dark.  The same reluctance affected the mismatched group of the Fellowship.  Goku and Vegeta pulled away from the group several feet, Goku sprawled across the ground one arm draped across Vegeta's thighs; the saiyajin prince leaning against a rock with arms crossed over his chest, eyes darting about and daring anyone to make a crude remark at their position.

Gimli was frowning, pipe clenched in his teeth--no smoke curled from it though, his pipe weed all lost to Aragorn days ago.  He was frustrated to unimaginable proportions.  Legolas sat at the exact opposite of the Namek, he kept peeking up through his hair to gaze at the alien with an unreadable face.  Piccolo had his eyes closed, hovering three feet from the ground, Gimli only guessed he was 'meditating.'  Throwing his hands to the air, Gimli pocketed his pipe and flopped onto his side, giving into his body's craving for sleep hoping he'd have answers to push the two together at dawn's light.

As silence reigned, Trunks stood, rubbing feeling back into his legs while studiously ignoring the looks he was receiving.  Eyeing the forest edge and feeling the pressure of his bladder, Trunks stepped over the sprawled legs and sleeping bodies.  Nearly beyond everyone, a sudden root caught on his toe and the demi flailed for balance before gravity dumped him onto a hard lap.  Strong hands grabbed him before he fell further and Trunks looked up from his seat to see the semi-surprised and mildly amused face of Piccolo.

"You alright, kid?"  Piccolo's voice was low and rumbling.  Trunks nodded slowly, standing from the Namek's space and smiling sheepishly.  Piccolo stood along with him--three sets of jealous elfin eyes watched them carefully.

"Where are you going?"  Trunks paused outside the line of trees, watching Piccolo walk off.

Piccolo peered over his shoulder.  "Getting out of the line of fire."  He grinned as Trunks laughed.  "Just finding a tree and some peace."

As Trunks returned and settled down to sleep, an odd fog lifted from the north.  A small murmur moved through those still awake.  Trunks stared up into the sky with head pillowed in his hands.  As the fog rolled in deeper, not even the two warm and pliable bodies contoured to his sides could stave off the chill along his spine.

Men twitched in their sleep before coming awake in cold sweat.  The pinpoint light of the stars were blotted from the sky and campfires slowly drowned to bare flickers.  From somewhere near, Legolas woke and blinked into the haze of sky wondering what had broken his slumber.  As he lay contemplating giving up and sleeping, a low whimpering moan made him pause.  Cautiously he sat up and looked around the others.  Goku lay drooling on the earth next to Vegeta who looked regal even in his sleep.  Gimli was curled into a ball, his face pressed into the soil; beside him Trunks and the twins were twined together.  With a frown, Legolas rose to his knees, peering beyond the piddling flame of the fire and into the darkness.  Hovering under a mallorn tree with bullets of sweat dripping from his angular face, Piccolo sat panting.

Moving with the agility, grace and speed known only of the elves, Legolas found himself leaping across prone bodies low burning fires and piles of strewn equipment.  He fell to his knees in front of the Namek, resting his palms flat across the alien's thighs, his eyes wide and dilated as he stared up into a flushed green face.

"Piccolo?"  Legolas' voice was low and troubled.  The Namek flinched, but he didn't break from his stupor.  Legolas stood, checking to see if anyone was watching and cupped Piccolo's face in his long fingers.  "Wake up, Master Namek."  He held his breath.

There was a tick of a jade cheek, full lips pulled into a grimace and with a sharp exhale of breath, fathomless ebony eyes snapped open.  Piccolo gaped like a drowning make taking back his breath.  Legolas watched him closely, unconsciously stroking the Namek's cheek with his fingertips as he waited for his friend's eyes to focus.

As his breath slowed to normal, Piccolo came to his senses and the comforting stroke of a cool palm relaxed him more than he cared to admit.  "What are you doing?"  Calmed ebony eyes searched a pale face.

Strong fingers paused and Piccolo saw the uncertainty flicker across the elf's beautiful features.  The hand fell from his cheek and Piccolo captured his wrist to keep him from fleeing.  "Why are you over here?  I thought you were sleeping."  He spoke with his head lowered, antennae swaying across his face.

A light breath caught in Legolas' throat though his eyes betrayed nothing of the roiling in his stomach.  "Your rest was troubled."  Legolas felt his heart beat faster as time passed and Piccolo had yet to release his hand.  It was not the first contact he'd ever had with the Namek and exceedingly the most innocent, but something decidedly significant--especially after the stressful see-sawing they had been through.

A laviscious grin spread across Piccolo's face so suddenly Legolas felt at first a bit thrown before struggling not to return it.  "You worried about me?"  Piccolo's voice was bordering sarcasm.

Legolas ignored the tone of the comment and nodded, his face serious enough to make the smug look fall from Piccolo's face.  Emerald lips tipped into a light frown.  "You shouldn't."  Piccolo's voice was very quiet, his fingers tightening minimally around the elf's hand.

Legolas narrowed his brilliant eyes.  "You nearly died."  He was proud of his voice for not wavering.

The Namek's large hand tightened again.  "But I didn't."  Legolas couldn't hold the steely gaze of Piccolo.  It was true, Piccolo hadn't died but he had been very close to it.

"Here."  Piccolo held his free hand out to him and Legolas took it after little hesitation.  Piccolo closed his fingers around that hand as well and pulled the elf onto his lap with a quick tug.

Demanding his heart to quiet, Legolas stared wide-eyed up at Piccolo and tried not to fidget at the compromising position he was now in--hands trapped, straddling an alien a foot taller and half a back wider, not to mention hovering from the earth so that the tips of his boots barely scuffed the soil.

Piccolo cocked his head to the side, releasing one of the elf's hands to trail his fingers through Legolas' honey-wheat hair.  His large palm came to rest at the back of the elf's head and he pulled Legolas' ear to his chest.  Beyond the soft fabric of the tunic, warmth and marbleized muscles Legolas could hear the strong steady beat of the Namek's heart as well as the deep easy breath that filled his lungs.

"Trunks did far more than save my life.  He let loose all the power that I told you of."  Piccolo's voice was rumbling and even deeper with his ear pressed to his chest.  As he sat in silence for a moment, Legolas felt a wave of heat ripple along his skin.  It did not grow any hotter, but the strength rolled across in growing waves.  It felt how Legolas imagined leaves caught in an updraft must feel--powerless and fragile, yet oddly protected and comforted in the intensity.

Slowly the pulses diminished and Legolas wasn't aware he had been trembling until the hand in his hair moved to his back and held him tightly.  Quietly, Piccolo spoke into his hair.  "I'd show you more but I'd only wake Goku and Vegeta."  Legolas' eyes widened--that there could be more of that energy made his head swim.

With a shiver, Legolas burrowed into the Namek's chest--feeling Piccolo tense up a short moment before relaxing--and sighed as his hair was combed through again.  Turning his face up, Legolas stared openly into Piccolo's oddly passive face.  With one hand still clasped between them, Legolas raised his free hand and traced the outlines of Piccolo's face, smiling to himself as the Namek closed his eyes and grunted.

Thin fingers trailed down a cheekbone, finger pads catching on the outer edge of a full upper lip and traced to the corner before following the curve of a jade lower lip.  Tripped from a sharp chin and skirted along the Namek's jaw.

Legolas shifted backward to allow his hand easier access.  He paused with hand hovering, suddenly unsure of himself before he took a shallow breath and tickled his fingertips down a thick chorded neck and over a sharp collarbone.  Fingers waggled in the air over the pale pink of the Namek's shoulder before settling in a crease in the muscle and running skillfully along each ridge.

The texture of the skin was foreign, thick and leathery but soft and highly elastic.  Legolas watched his hand move back up the powerful arm and across the great expanse of chest before following its path with his lips and tongue.

Piccolo snapped from his dream-state as soon as petal-soft lips pressed against his neck.  A slow burn sparked in his stomach and when the tip of the elf's right ear ghosted past his face he latched lightly onto it with his teeth and curled his tongue along the edge.

Legolas stiffened and the hand still holding Piccolo's clutched tight enough to grind the bones together.  Satisfied with his reaction, Piccolo released his ear and nipped the tip before nuzzling the side of Legolas' face until he tilted his head back and Piccolo could nip and lave the pale column of the elf's neck.

A sound only described as a growl rumbled in Legolas' chest, Piccolo could feel the vibrations under his lips and answered with a deep rumble of his own.

It took less than ten minutes to pull at collar ties and loosen tunics before they were dumped to the ground.  It may have been easier had Legolas stood but neither were complaining at being pressed together and wriggling to free themselves of their vestments.

Piccolo gripped a handful of flaxen hair and wrenched Legolas' neck back, bruising their lips in a fevered kiss where an elfin tongue quickly drew submissive to the violet intruder.  Calloused hands pet and stroked at heated flesh.  A pause as Legolas laughed at Piccolo's lack of nipples until the Namek made him forget with a sharp grinding of his hips.

Actions grew more frenzied as heat flared and spread, Piccolo catching Legolas' hand as the elf began to prepare himself.  "No."

Legolas paused, eyes clouded with lust and flushed face marred with confusion.  Piccolo settled to the ground, pulling the elf atop him as he lay.  He cupped the beautiful face in his large hands and turned the elf's head so that he spoke into his ear, "I can heal in seconds and I don't think I can wait long enough for you."

There was recognition in the statement and Legolas nodded.  "And I don't want to hurt you."  The last spoken quietly, as though Piccolo were ashamed.

Crystalline eyes caught ebony and Legolas felt his heart swell at the admittion.  He threw himself across Piccolo's chest and kissed the Namek with all the passion and emotion in him.  When he broke free they both were panting.  He slowly teased his way down; licking, nipping and even biting hard enough to bruise on highly sensitive spots.  Piccolo grunted and growled his warnings; Legolas grinned at him before continuing on and stopped at the alien's arousal.

It was blatantly obvious that nothing about the towering Namek was small.

Knowing full well the size of the Namek would not sit at all comfortably in his jaws, Legolas settled for several languid licks and a light bite that earned him another warning growl.

By now, Piccolo was not the only with a weeping erection and crumbling resolve.  Legolas settled between Piccolo's thick thighs and groaned as the tip of his arousal pressed at the Namek's entrance.  He looked up through sweat soaked locks, uncomfortable with proceeding without preparation.  Piccolo smirked at him.

Clearing his mind--which was easy to do--Legolas pressed slowly in, arms shaking at the sheer bliss of heat and encasement.  After fully seated, Legolas kissed Piccolo's chest and dared rest on one arm to run his thumb across Piccolo's lips.  He was rewarded with a nip at his thumb and a rock of narrow hips.

He pulled out shakily, it had been some time since he had last laid with a man, and even then all those prior had not held his adoration like this Namek had.

The pace was fast and hard, both biting their tongues--often Legolas biting Piccolo--to keep from crying aloud for the hundreds of troops around them.  With a final slam, Legolas shuddered and spilled himself within his Namekien lover, Piccolo having released moments before.

They lay entangled until their breath returned to normal before Legolas hauled himself up Piccolo's length and rained feather-light kisses across his face.  Piccolo raked his fingers through the elf's damp hair and conjured on a fresh set of clothes for the both of them.  Legolas sat up slightly and looked down at himself.  Piccolo chuffed out a laugh and Legolas shook his head before resting again.

"I would you know."  Piccolo spoke softly into the night.

Puzzled, Legolas quirked an eyebrow.  "You would what?"

A crooked grin spread across Piccolo's face.  "I would kill Gimli if he cut your hair."  Legolas gave an exasperated snort but settled back in the Namek's embrace with a large smile.

The eerie fog moved on and away as they lay in comfortable silence.  Neither believing what had just transpired had truly happened even though the evidence was around them--torn tunics, broken ties and the teasing scent of sex.

The noise of many anxious men ruined their peaceful bubble of contentment.  Reluctantly, Legolas stood, gazing down on Piccolo with an unreadable expression.  The Namek stood as well, ignoring the twinge of his backside and rummaged through his ruined tunic for a water bladder.

Together, they noiselessly made their way back to their ring of friends.  Piccolo paused next to the demi-sandwich and snorted before following his elf--how odd and yet nice that sounded--to a clear spot beside the dying fire.

Piccolo tossed a hunk of wood from their pile into the embers and lit it with a burst of ki.  It had been some time since he had been able to do that as well.

Legolas sat lightly down beside him and settled close enough for their knees to touch before he lay back to sleep.  The others stirred and resettled, uneasy with the ambience of the atmosphere.

Piccolo drifted back to his meditative mind with the crackling of the fire; a slender hand crawled up his back before settling to the ground again with a fistful of tunic clutched in a tight grip.  Piccolo smirked, sending a small bubble of ki down the clinging hand and stopped when Legolas gasped and tightened his hold.  The elf curled around Piccolo's side, shifted and set his head on Piccolo's thigh.  Piccolo ran his fingers through long pale hair and meditated to the purring of the elf on his lap.

---

Bulma stepped out of Trunks' time machine, a stretch of parchment and charcoal stick clutched in one hand.  With a deep sigh, the scientist stretched and set her work on the tabletop.  She had denied herself rest for most of the day again.  The voices had stopped torturing her, but her imagination still ran wild.  She always had hated waiting for news from the front.

Elrond peeked his head through the door to make sure Bulma was fine--she had been almost eerily quiet the entire day.  He was relieved to see her sitting at a table sipping a glass of tea with a half-eaten plum in her opposite hand.  He was retreating when she looked up and smiled at him.

"Hi.  Come sit with me, I could use a break." Bulma beamed, sweeping off a chair for him.

Elrond returned her smile and shook his robes as he sat.  "How is your work coming along?"

Shrugging, Bulma flipped along the parchment.  "Better with something to follow."  She looked up at him again, a smudge of charcoal along her cheek.

"How is Arwen?"  Bulma looked up through her lashes.

Elrond furrowed his brows.  "She is well."

"No, I mean how is she?"  Bulma arched a delicate eyebrow.  Arwen had not spoken to her for a couple of days and whenever she saw the beautiful noble lady her eyes were red rimmed and she was always distracted.

A soft sigh fell from Elrond's lips.  "She is upset.  Angry with me, angry with her brothers..."  He ran a long-fingered hand through his hair.  He looked up at Bulma waiting for her outburst but the azure vixen only blinked at him.  "She misses Estel terribly, but she does not see what I do."

Bulma set her drink down and leaned back in her chair, arms crossing over her chest.  Elrond watched as her face set into hard lines and had he been one of the many who knew the woman well, he would have made his excuses and left.  "And what do you see?"  Elrond opened his mouth to speak but Bulma cut him off.  "It surely couldn't be your daughter's happiness."

"I beg your pardon?"  The elfin Lord straightened in his chair.

"The way I see it, mister, is that you have empty nest syndrome.  You know Arwen wants to be with Aragorn, but you can't see her as an adult to make her own decisions."  Bulma narrowed her eyes dangerously.  "She loves him, Elrond."

"She only thinks she does."

A gasp was Elrond's early warning before Bulma stood and posed before him with hands on her hips.  "Now look here, mister!  You may think you know what's best for you daughter but you cannot tell her who to love!"  Bulma huffed, leaning over Elrond, her blue eyes blazing.  Elrond began to speak but Bulma covered his mouth with her hand.  When she spoke her voice was soft.  "You do not choose who to love.  It chooses for itself."

Elrond's smooth hands came up from his lap.  One took the lady's palm from his mouth, the other wiped the soot from her creamy cheek.  He nodded his head lightly.  "I know."

He stood from his chair and looked down at the blue haired woman.  Elrond closed his eyes and sighed as he released Bulma's hands.  Elrond got to the door before he turned back, his face set and Bulma smiled at him.  "I'll talk to her."

---

Dawn was still a quarter hour away and Trunks lay awake.  From the sounds around the rest of the camp many men were suffering from his insomnia; though the remainder were hardly doing more than snoozing in the uncomfortable atmosphere.

One of the twins at his side shivered before burrowing a little farther into his side.  As carefully as he could without disturbing either elves, Trunks snaked an arm out to his satchel and tugged his jacket free from the straps.

A light grumble came from Elrohir and Trunks froze until the Perenhil quieted.  He smiled at the top of the dark crown as he flopped the jacket open and spread it as well as he could around the three of them.

As he relaxed back against the ground, Trunks checked on the twins.  Both seemed to be eagerly warming beneath the violet stained leather.  A pair of grey eyes peeked from beneath raven locks.  Trunks blinked, unsure of whether Elrohir was actually gazing at him or still sleeping.  He got his answer a moment later when a smile--hidden by the collar of the jacket--crinkled the corners of Elrohir's twinkling grey eyes.

"You should be sleeping."  Trunks murmured.

Elrohir nodded, shuffling closer.  Trunks smiled secretly as the elf's arm curled tighter around his waist.  "The whole camp will be awake soon.  We'll be moving on by first light."

Elladan stirred and blinked.  "Time to go?"

Trunks turned his head and grinned.  "Not yet."

With a satisfied grunt, Elladan nestled back into his spot, burying his face in the crook of Trunks neck.  The demi felt his heart clench before beating a little faster.  Both twins seemed to feel his discomfort and grinned cheekily at each other.  As Trunks began to attempt to wriggle free of them, arms tightened their hold and pinned him to the earth between them.

"Someone is going to see--"

Elladan looked at him with innocent eyes, "See what, Ernil?  We are only huddling for warmth."

Elrohir picked up on his brother's trail of thought and nodded.  "Do you find our position compromising?"

Mirai frowned, trying to think of a reply that wouldn't sound rude or anger either twin.  He hadn't a chance to even try when a hand wound its way under his shirt.  With wide eyes, Trunks looked between the identical innocent faces and forced himself not to sputter.

"Is something the matter, Trunks?"  Elladan asked, head cocked slightly to the side.  Another hand soon followed the first and Mirai could feel the blush prickle his cheeks.

Elrohir blinked owlish eyes at him, "Yes, you seem a bit flushed."

One of the hands trailed slowly down, fingertips brushing against the waistband of his pants.  Mirai stiffened, prepared to either remove himself from the devious elves or completely submit.  A dark shadow fell across them and the hands quickly retreated to their owners.

"You have the worst timing foster brother."  Elladan pouted, rolling away from the trio and sitting up.

Aragorn grinned down at them.  "I only serve to ruin your fun.  What else are younger brothers for?"  Elladan rolled his eyes but smiled anyway.  Aragorn cocked an eyebrow and gave Trunks a once-over.  "I trust they have not molested you?"

Elrohir stretched and sat up as well, pouting.  "Had you kept to yourself a moment longer we may have had the chance."

Trunks flushed crimson, dumbfounded at the conversation he was hearing.  Aragorn shook his head, playing off his brother's comments.  "It is time to rise and make ready, we leave in a quarter hour."

Both twins nodded, already gathering up their things.  Trunks was the last to sit up, turning his jacket around and pulling it on properly.  He gazed up around in the slowly lightening sky, ignoring the hollow feeling in his stomach as he bit into a piece of lambas. 

He felt more than saw his father wake, Vegeta's ki rising quickly as consciousness came to him.  Trunk was fine enough to stay where he was until everyone moved, but a sound so rare and entirely surprising made him jump up and turn to the group behind him. 

Vegeta was laughing.