The Love Of Elves
Part 9

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

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~A Short Rest~

Legolas swooped down to claim Aragorn's lips in a gentle, tender kiss, sliding his tongue into the Man's mouth only briefly, licking his top lip with a teasing swipe.

Aragorn fought a moan when Legolas broke the kiss, reaching out to where most of their clothing now lay until he fumbled through the pockets of his breeches. He produced a small vial of darkly-colored oil, and was already working on removing the small wooden cork as he shuffled back next to where Aragorn lay on the ground, eyeing him warily. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension at the thought of what the Elf had in mind.

Legolas laughed softly at the Man's suspicious gaze, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Fear not, Aragorn. I believe you will find this quite enjoyable."

He removed the tiny cork and the strong scent of lavender graced the air around them. Legolas poured some of the sweetly-scented oil in the palm of his hand, rubbing it between his fingers and allowing it
to warm before pressing his oil-slicked hands to Aragorn's chest, just above his stomach. He began to knead the hard muscles, and Aragorn couldn't fight the urge to moan at the sudden, electric contact. His eyes widened as he watched Legolas work the oil into his skin, massaging with a slowness that was maddeningly both relaxing, and arousing.

Hands that had been strengthened to perfection by the handling of a bow now pressed into the muscles of his chest, soothing away aches Aragorn was not even aware he had. Despite himself, his eyes slid shut and his lips parted in a sigh.

Arwen leaned down to kiss and lick at his neck, as Legolas continued his ministrations. His skin felt alive and enflamed wherever the Elf's hands rubbed against him, and he could not contain a loud gasp as fingertips made excruciating contact with his nipples, his back arching like a bow. His eyes shot open and he felt a warm puff of breath against his neck, as Arwen seemed to be laughing softly at his reaction.

"You enjoy that?" she asked, raising her smiling face.

Aragorn shuddered in response, weakly lifting his head and watching through hooded eyes as Legolas poured more of the dark purple oil into his hands. It was still scented of lavender, but there was an underlying sweetness to the scent that Aragorn had not noticed before.

"Drùisola," Legolas said, smiling as he indicated the vial. "It awakens the senses, heightens pleasure. `Tis an elvish herb, and dare I say, a secret well-kept from Men, even yourself, it would seem."

"It seems I am discovering many secrets of the Elves on this night," Aragorn said, his head falling back to the ground with a soft thud as Legolas resumed the massage, nimble hands working and soothing every muscle. Soon Arwen joined his efforts, tracing oily motifs unto his skin.

Soon the Man had closed his eyes, savouring the feel of both Elves' hands upon him. A tiny breeze brushed the hair from his forehead, making him shiver ever so slightly as it gently swept against his
oversensitive skin.

Aragorn was soon stunned out of his peaceful trance by a slippery hand coiling around his sleeping member. It grew to full arousal within seconds, hard and aching thanks to the drùisola herb in the oil. Legolas gently stroked the full length up and down a few times before releasing it, causing Aragorn to groan in frustration.

The blond archer leaned down, blowing cool breath on Aragorn's straining arousal, which only served to double the Man's aching desire. Smiling wickedly, the Elf slid his body upward against Aragorn, the special oil igniting the most deliciously intense friction between their chests.

Before Aragorn had the chance to voice his desire again, his lips were swallowed in a long, warming kiss.

Legolas took his hand, placing the purple vial in his palm. His voice was low. "I would like for you to make love to me, Aragorn."

The full reality of what he was asking sunk it, and despite himself, Aragorn looked to Arwen. It was perhaps a bit late and even somewhat laughable to seek her permission now, but...he needed, somehow, to see her give her consent. When their eyes met, she smiled in encouragement and reached over to caress his shoulder.

Steeling himself, Aragorn tipped the vial into his palm. The lavender-scented oil was cool as it spilled against his fingers. He waited until it warmed a bit, then reached down tentatively felt behind the Elf's arched organ. He found the tiny opening but hesitated to venture inside, fearful of harming the seemingly delicate flesh. But then Legolas lowered himself, until Aragorn's finger breached him just barely. "I will not break," he murmured.

Holding his breath as though steeling himself for pain that would not be his own, Aragorn carefully inserted one oil-slicked finger all the way, listening intently as the Elf's breathing quickened. Assured there was not a trace of pain in his friend's lovely face, he ventured forth another finger. A shaky sigh of pleasure was his response, which soon turned into a surprised yelp as he unexpectedly struck something sensitive deep inside Legolas's body, causing his body to jerk in pleasure.

"Quel, Aragorn, vor…" Legolas moaned, curling his hand around Aragorn's arm as the Man's fingers continued to work their way inside him.

He continued pushing his fingers within the Elf, slowly at first, then faster as he satisfied himself that Legolas's moans were of pleasure and not pain.

Taking the vial away from Aragorn's hand, the Elf poured some of the sweet purple oil into his own palm, reaching down to stroke it tightly against the Man's length.

The special herb made the sensations almost too much to bear. Closing his eyes tightly, Aragorn forced himself to concentrate and hold back as he motioned for Legolas to lower himself a bit more, and then more, until the Elf's body fully sheathed the hard member and he settled on the Man's lap with a groan of relief.

It was a sight he would have thought unsettling before tonight. But now, the sight of his swollen and gleaming arousal disappearing within Legolas's body was nothing short of entrancingly erotic.

Every minute sensation was increased tenfold. The heat of Legolas's body was almost burning in its intensity, his heartbeat fluttering against hypersensitive flesh. With a long sigh, Aragorn curved his fingers around Legolas's hips, closing his eyes against the sensations.

Legolas echoed his sigh and smiled. "You are well?" he teased, dragging his fingers up the Man's chest. One finger found a nipple, caressing it lightly.

Not trusting his voice with anything other than incoherent sounds of pleasure, Aragorn nodded erratically. He placed his hands against the splayed thighs, feeling the firm tightening of muscle as Legolas pushed himself up, then slid back down with a breathy gasp. Aragorn held him down, shifting his own hips until he thrust upward again, changing the angle of his entry. As he did, a deep flush spread over Legolas's pale skin and a low moan drifted past his lips.

The Elf's thighs tensed as he lifted himself up again, pulling himself almost completely free in a move that wrenched a shattering moan from Aragorn's lips.

"Elbereth! Legolas..." Aragorn moaned. His fingers dug into Legolas's hips, trying to urge a faster rhythm. His feet pressed into the soft ground as he pushed himself up, driving himself into the Elf with growing force whenever a groan of encouragement sounded. His legs ached from the effort but he could not stop.

His hand still coated with the precious oil, Aragorn curled his fingers around the Elf's straining arousal, smearing pearly-clear fluid across the head, drawing another lovely whimper.

Aragorn skirted on the edge of release for what seemed like ages, sweat and oil making his body damp and warm.

Suddenly the Elf cried out, one long sweet note, and his body contracted violently around Aragorn's. White pearls of liquid burst from the tip of his burning organ, coating Aragorn's hand and chest.

Aragorn was then pushed over the edge. His back arched violently, with such force he lifted Legolas' body along with him. Fire, burning, threatened to consume him wholly as powerful bursts of liquid heat surged from him, to fill the inside of Legolas's body.

For the second time that night, Aragorn collapsed back upon the cool, mossy ground. His heart thrummed wildly in his ears and his hazed senses dimly took notice that Legolas had pulled away from him.

Mist from the waterfall tingled against his skin, moist from sweat and lavender oil, still tender and sensitive from the elven herb. A cool breeze swept through the air, parting the treetops high above his head for a moment, revealing the cloudless and bejeweled night sky.

*****

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