The Love Of Elves
Part 8

Posted: September 2003
Author: Ellon Melethril, a.k.a. Lemur and Maeve

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~Fire and Water~

Pillowy fingertips grazed small patterns into the stubbled skin of Aragorn's face and neck. His eyes flickered shut from the sensation and he shuddered faintly.

Brushing a few dark strands of hair from her moist skin, Aragorn cradled her cheek and brought her to his lips. He tasted sweetness again, this time mingled with a tinge of warm mountain breeze. He nearly smiled at the thought that he could easily distinguish one Elf from the other now solely by the taste of their lips.

His tongue pressed past Arwen's lips, stroking the delicate flesh of her mouth, deepening the kiss; it was scorching, both sating and yet unfulfilling, as though with every moment he only craved her more. The thought of Legolas, and how he had been so desirous of the other Elf so as to forgo his own pleasure, came back to him. He shivered heatedly.

Already, he was helpless under her touch. With only her eyes and her lips, she had woven the same spell over his heart and mind and Legolas had woven over his body. Was this some rare gift of the Elves, he wondered?

His lips never left her skin, tasting and savouring every perfect inch of her, even as his hands brushed over the thin, wet material of the dress that still clung to her, thirsting for the contact of her bare skin.

His hand circled her waist as its twin brushed lower, finding the hem of her garment and lifting it to bring her body in complete nude contact with his. To his surprise, another pair of hands joined his effort; Legolas took hold of the silvern dress and easily lifted it off the perfectly-sculpted body of the female Elf.

Aragorn caught his breath as he beheld her, nude and resplendent, moon-kissed skin glowing moistly. The mist-filled air had created an aura around her lovely form, as though the evening star that was her namesake still shone just as brightly from her core. If possible, her beauty seemed increased threefold tonight.

"A'maelamin," he whispered, lifting trembling hands to her face. Her skin was cool and smooth as he brushed his fingers against it, until they slipped over the warmer flesh of her ears. His thumbs grazed the sensitive tips before he buried his hands in the ebony curtain of her hair.

Arwen smiled lovingly at him, turning her face just enough to kiss at the inside of his arm. "Harananim," she said.

His hands still sheathed in her silken locks, Aragorn gently pulled her to him and kissed her, tenderly at first. He had lain with her many times before, but tonight he could not help but feel inexperienced, awkward even, in a sensation echoing his first intimate encounter with Legolas. And now with Arwen, it was as though all their nights together had ceased to exist. This was once again their first time together. He kissed her, urgently, needing now more than ever to feel her against him, her body, her heat, her love...

Aragorn held her onto his lap, his arms enfolding her tightly to his chest. His beloved, his beauty. Worthy or not, he knew he would die if he were to lose her.

"Amin mela lle, my King," she said.

His lips returned to her, caressing her cheek, her neck, gracing it with warm kisses and taking great care not to mark her pale skin. His hand brushed over her ivory neck and traveled lower, until one of her generous breasts filled his palm. Aragorn stilled his lips and pressed his forehead against her shoulder; the thrumming of her heart could be felt all the way into his hand and he took a moment to savour the sensation.

He tasted the sweetness of her skin, as though he thirsted for it. His mouth found her breast, and he bathed the tender skin with the warmth of his mouth before finding a small pink nipple and capturing it within his lips, drawing a sigh from the female Elf. He caressed it with just the tip of his tongue, delighting in the feel of her skin.

Tendrils of gleaming black hair clung to Arwen's skin, pasted against her shoulders and the swells of her chest, soft and supple under his hand as he slid it down her body, over the smooth tapered waist and curvy hip.

Aragorn's fingers explored between her legs, grazing the silken heat that was so very familiar to him, yet so very precious. She opened under his touch like the delicate petals of a flower. A delicate flower that thrived in moonlight. Gently he stroked her, finding and caressing the sensitive little bud hidden almost within her, feeling it throb in time with her heartbeat.

"Tulo yassene amin," she whispered huskily. Smooth, graceful legs wrapped around his waist. Aragorn sighed and closed his eyes as he felt her reach down to curl her fingers around him, and soon her hand was replaced by heated velvet of her body. She lowered herself down on him, and their hips met soundlessly but for Arwen's shivering breath.

Mist—or was it all sweat?—trickled in rivulets down Aragorn's back. He began a slow undulating rhythm against her, within her. Sighs of pleasure turned into elvish whispers of endearment as he sped up his thrusts, caressing her most intimate self.

Spreading his hands over the silkenness of her back, Aragorn carefully lifted her and shifted their bodies until Arwen lay beneath him, stretched out on the soft ground. Streams of black hair haloed her head as she smiled lovingly at him, deceptively strong hands pulling her husband down to her.

Their lips met as he entered her again, pale thighs wrapping around his waist as their bodies pushed together, melted together. Their breaths were shaky as they kissed.

Wet strands of hair fell into Aragorn's eyes and he blinked away pearls of water, raining into his face with every thrust. So suddenly that his rhythm turned erratic for a brief instant, cool hands spread over and caressed his back, sliding over flexing muscles and tensed arms. With much grace and stealth, Legolas's hands were soon replaced by his lips, teasing and tasting. A delicate brushing of silk against his skin made Aragorn shiver; slowing his pace ever so slightly, he craned his neck and caught a glimpse of blond hair spilling over his shoulder.

Arwen also shifted, and smiled. She parted her lips, breaking the wordless silence. "Legolas..."

The fingers that had been deliberately tantalizing Aragorn's arms skimmed down over the Man's flesh and found Arwen's palely glowing skin. A loving caress swept up over her trembling body, reaching up to trace the upswept tip of her ear.

The pale column of her neck arched at the touch and she shuddered. The raven-haired Elf's body rippled suddenly as she reached the peak of her pleasure and she tightened around Aragorn, so suddenly and powerfully than he groaned at the sensation and stilled the movement of his hips.

When she opened her dazzling eyes again, she and Legolas exchanged a knowing look and the archer moved behind Aragorn again.

Mind and body clouded with passion, Aragorn barely registered Legolas's movements when suddenly strong arms were sliding around his chest, roaming over tensed muscles and teasing over sensitive nipples. Nimble fingers brushed the hair away from the back of his neck, soon replaced again by those same warm, demanding lips.

"Au', melamin…" Arwen whispered, snaking her hands down to Aragorn's hips, urging him into movement again.

Aragorn pressed into her again, his trembling arms threatening to give out as he supported his body over hers. A familiar and growing throb was collecting between his legs and he knew he would not last much longer. Arwen's neck suddenly arched as she climaxed again, this time taking him with her.

Release suddenly claimed him, and he moaned harshly as bursts of heated pleasure shook him, surging from where their bodies were connected to spread up his spine and fully unfurl in his chest.

Legolas's arms left his chest and, with a long, steadying breath, Aragorn bent down to kiss his Lady as he gently withdrew from her. She broke the kiss with a smile and slid out from under his body, and Aragorn did not resist when her gentle hands pushed him down onto the mossy ground.

The forest ground was cool against Aragorn's back as he allowed himself to fully collapse upon it, his body still weak from climax, but his strength recovering.

He wearily opened his eyes after a few moments at the feeling of movement above him, and was greeted with the sight of a blond Elf grinning down at him, blue eyes sparkling and golden hair spilling in slight disarray to either side of his face.

"Has our King been spent so quickly?"

Aragorn closed his eyes again and smiled. But then something tickled at his nose and he swept a lazy hand at it. When the tickling resumed, this time against his ear, he jerked his head aside, opening his eyes. Legolas, still grinning, held one of the delicate silvery leaves he had been playing with earlier, and was now teasing his ear with it.

Determined to wipe that smirk off the Elf's face, Aragorn swiftly snatched the silver leaf from Legolas's fingers and pushed himself up to grasp his friend's waist, tackling him to the ground, effectively pinning the slender archer beneath his body. The Elf's arousal was trapped beneath Aragorn's thigh, throbbing warmly.

"Ai! He has feigned weakness!" Legolas cried, feebly struggling under Aragorn's weight.

Arwen's shoulders quivered with a soft trilling laugh. "It would appear the balance of power has shifted, Legolas." Still nude and lovely, she had seated herself nearby, content to observe for the moment.

A lovely smile broke the Elf's lips, and a soft laugh joined Arwen's. "I could not hope for a better captor, my Lady."

Aragorn lowered his face, sporting the most menacing glare he could manage under the circumstances. "You laugh at me, Elf? Have you forgotten who is in power here?"

"I laugh because the captor believes he has gained the advantage," Legolas said, smiling sweetly.

And before Aragorn could even take another breath, Legolas had swung his legs up and flipped the Man back onto the ground, smiling triumphantly.

"However, it would appear my captor grew overconfident," Legolas said in mock seriousness.

With a sigh, Aragorn thudded his head back upon the ground and calmly placed his hands beneath it. "Then I shall concede defeat."

"And for such a gracious act, the captive shall be rewarded."

With a dainty laugh, Arwen rolled her eyes and gracefully crossed her arms over her naked chest. "Do warriors often discuss so much before a battle? It is a wonder either of you have a victory to your names."

"Ah, but strategy is the most essential part of any battle, my Lady," Legolas said, trailing a finger over the fine hair of Aragorn's chest.

"Indeed? I believed you to be the kind of warrior to favor action, Legolas."

"I shall surprise you yet, dearest Arwen."

*****

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