Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Taming Legolas ❯ Snared ( Chapter 2 )

Just a quick note of thanks to Iocane for beta-ing this part for me and to Irena for giving me a 'yay, go ahead' <g>. Without both these lovely people, I would never have gotten this fic this far.

And to all the readers who keep saying *more*! Thank-you for your encouragement. Even though this part has been re-worked to dove-tail with the next part, I hope you all still enjoy. CD

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Chapter 2 - Snared

"Yes." The word rocked him. Legolas wished he could burrow deeper into the Dunédan, hiding his trepidation from their view. Memories, like Crebain, fluttered through his mind darkly and without purpose sending scattered images of his journey to Imladris and his attendance at Council, and later still, his attendance in these very rooms.

Fast and far at the bidding of his Father, Legolas had ridden, to bring the ill tidings of Smeagol's escape to Mithrandir. Straight into the night and up again before Anor graced the sky; he and his companions had raced, sure in the knowledge that their mission urgent, and that rest would come upon the completion of their King's bidding. Exhausted, the young Prince and his entourage had arrived within Imladris and been bid, almost immediately to attend the Council Lord Elrond had called to discuss the darkness growing upon Middle Earth. And after the meeting, Legolas had been made too restless by the summons of Estel to seek repose.

'Twas difficult to think clearly with so little rest even by the measure of Elves, and with the heavy odor of their night's debauchery yet tainting the breeze. Even more difficult still to bring his rebellious mind to task with Estel's arms tight wrapped about him and the smell of the Man like a rare spice wrapping around his mind and leaving him panting for more.

He had said yes, that thought stood out limned sharply in the light of his dismay. His answer, yet echoing in his ears, the Elf found hard to believe.

Legolas had had every intention of refusal. Of this he was sure. Or so he thought. Legolas bit his lower lip hard, to keep further words from flying unbidden past his traitorous lips. Would that he had remained quiet. Would that he had said no. Legolas fought to bring his scattered thoughts under control.

It was apparent his reply startled Aragorn as much as he. Legolas could feel the tremor race within the Dunédan and kept the wonder of that bound close to his heart.

Arwen nodded her approval, "Turn him for me, Estel. I would see our Prince more fully while you prove to him your love and mastery."

Weakly, Legolas wondered at himself as he reluctantly allowed Aragorn to turn him within the circle of the arms that held him captive. Too soon for his comfort, he found himself with his back pressed against Aragorn in the fullness of the Dunédan's masculine glory.

With a tenderness that caused Legolas's heart to clench painfully, Aragorn moved the mane of Legolas's hair aside, stroking it forward in a tousled mass of gold across one shoulder. Aragorn moved his lips with gentle caress against his neck, a tingle of desire darting straight to the Elf's yearning sex. Legolas found himself clenching and unclenching his fists nervously, unsure as to what would come to pass now that he had agreed.

One of the Man's large hands splayed against his heaving abdomen, pulling him back tight against Aragorn's body and easily restraining Legolas's arms. The Man's throbbing erection made itself known as a burning brand between the Mirkwood Prince's legs. Legolas released a gasp to hover on the morning air that seemed to be heating as if it were summer instead of just barely slid into spring.

Almost automatically, the young Prince widened his stance; at once making his body more accessible to the Man that held him. Legolas murmured restlessly testing Aragorn's hold, before relaxing against the Man. Estel had asked and he had given his permission. Nothing would happen here that he did not want. Even so, a chill shiver of uneasiness wandered unbidden through the Elf and his overlarge eyes stared nervously about the room.

He could not meet the Evenstar's dark gaze as it moved over his body. She seemed to feed upon his face, his lips, and her eyes wandered ceaselessly over his chest and the nipples he could feel tightened and peaked there, begging for a touch.

To lust after another with no love between them was foreign to Legolas. He had oft admired the beauty of Nissi and Neri alike, for Elves were beautiful creatures, yet never had he desired to lay with them. For all his long years, his lovers numbered fewer than the fingers upon one hand and to each he had gifted some small portion of himself.

The Prince knew that many Elves amused themselves in light frolicsome passions, yet, being his Father's son, Legolas had known from an early age that his duty forbade him such excesses. It had been an easy thing to put from him, the Sindarin Elf throwing himself into his other studies and becoming a Master Archer and skilled in the Arts of the Hunt and those of War.

Now he found himself stripped of his protections by the simple touch of a Man and the burning gaze of his Lady and he quailed to know these things about himself and sought to push them back into the darker recesses of his thoughts. He fisted his hands incessantly, shaking his head in an attempt to get the tangled mass of his hair out of his face. It was a minor irritant, for he never wore it over his shoulder thusly.

Yet, he could not distract himself so easily. He could feel the Lady's desire as an almost tangible caress as she surveyed his partially disrobed state. The thinness of his leggings and the swiftly dampening material from his arousal left him feeling more exposed than if he stood naked in his Father's Council Chambers.

To be the focus of Arwen's desirous gaze left Legolas awash with uncertainty. He felt his heart stutter and jump and he found it hard to swallow. Quite suddenly, the study of the floor was fascinating. His body thrummed with anticipation.

"Saes... " A whisper crept unbidden from Legolas's lips as he twisted in Estel's hold. To wait thusly with no knowledge of his fate was almost more than he could endure.

He wished to beg to be set free, he wished to beg forgiveness. He needed to tell Arwen he had had no plans to challenge her for possession of Estel. He wished to ask for Estel's touch. Confusion and passion overwhelmed him, the very waiting for whatever the twain should decide to do with him near overbearing.

"Touch him." Her soft command slammed an arrow of desire throughout the Prince of Mirkwood. And Legolas sagged against Estel. The sweat damp curls of the Man's chest tickled intriguingly against the Elf's overheated back.

A soft noise caught in Legolas's throat as he felt Aragorn's callused hand sweep over his chest in answer to Arwen's command. The Man's fingers stopped to play with one nipple and Legolas let his head fall back against Aragorn's shoulder, hair fallen like sunlight across the Man's tawny flesh. Legolas was unable to resist pushing his chest forward into the light teasing touch, indeed, could not remember why he should not.

Clear and seductive, Arwen's whisper tantalized, "Do you like this, Legolas? Do you enjoy Estel's touches?"

A bitten off murmur of pleasure hovered in the air between them. Legolas felt Arwen drawing closer still and he trembled with trepidation even as he rejoiced in the Man's tender caress.

As Legolas leaned backward, Aragorn could not but help lightly nuzzle against the pointed ear so near to his lips. Bolts of pleasure like summer lightning flashed brightly through his quivering flesh and Legolas made a small sound in his throat.

As Aragorn's hand roved freely over the lightly flushed flesh of the Elf, the Man whispered dark promises into that pointed ear. "You are beyond beautiful in your surrender."

"I. Do. Not. S-surrender." Legolas gasped out.

Aragorn laughed quietly. "I would expect no less, pen-rhovan. But you shall. To both myself and Arwen." The Dunédan spoke confidently, as he allowed his work-roughened hand to move over Legolas's body and wander down to cup the arousal hidden behind cloth made nearly transparent by the sweet juices leaking needfully from the Legolas's swollen member.

"Ai... Estel, you torment me!"

"Not nearly enough, not yet." Deep and commanding, Aragorn growled as he kneaded the cloth-covered flesh. Legolas cried aloud and thrust his hips reflexively into the Man's demanding grip.

Arwen's soft sound of approval seared him and he fought with himself trying to still his movements. Trying to remember what path he had taken to wander so lost that he had become a trifle with which Estel could play to please her. Shame colored his face, yet his arousal was undiminished, pulsing in savage pleasure at Aragorn's manipulations and seeming to delight in the Lady Arwen's unabashed regard.

"Know this, deny it though you may--you belong to me. It has always been thus from the first moment I set eyes upon you. I will accept no other's scent upon you. To me and me alone are you bound. From the moment of your claiming, it was so."

Dragging what little remained of thought into his head, Legolas murmured, "And your Lady, Estel?"

"You are determined to fight for every moment gained, are you not?" A soft snort of amusement ruffled Legolas's hair before Aragorn nipped lightly at the delicate point of the Elf's ear. "'Tis a three-ing we have, a'maelamin, you will belong to her, as surely as you belong to me."

"I cannot be owned. I am a Prince--" Legolas panted unable to continue as Aragorn gave the flesh in his palm a teasing caress, whilst the hand upon his chest tweaked one of his nipples roughly, causing the Elf to yelp as twin arrows of pain and pleasure shot through his shivering body.

Dropping his voice lower, Aragorn's whisper threaded with desire, "I care not who you are beyond these walls, pen-rhovan-nin. Here, here and alone, you are ours to do with as we please. Here, you will give yourself to us. Here you will answer my command and do her bidding, as I wish it. In here, until you need it no longer, all your choices are removed. This you have agreed to in giving yourself to me." Aragorn tangled his hand in the long gold sweep of Legolas's hair baring the Elf's neck and pulling Legolas's head sideways.

Legolas whimpered softly, the conflagration of his body burning hotter than the spring greeting bonfire. Pulling in an helpless breath, Legolas shook at the images Aragorn painted for him. His body hummed at Aragorn's lightest touch. And desire so dangerous swept through him and he was shamed to find that he wished only to surrender to the Man fully.

With a delicate touch, Aragorn laved Legolas's long slender neck, passion dark eyes flicking to Arwen as he brought his mouth to the spot where his tongue had been but moments ago.

Legolas startled when he felt delicate fingers trace his lips, he turned his head from Arwen, then, her touch both pained and tantalized. His heart thundered within the captivity of his chest. His body betrayed him with delight.

And though Arwen no longer touched him, he could feel the memory of her touch and licked his tongue hesitantly over his lips, tasting the slight tang of her scent. The heat of a blush stole across his high cheeks and he feared that he would not be able to do this thing that they wanted of him. His body burned beneath the hands that held him. He pushed back against Aragorn's arousal wantonly. To love and to desire, at once one and different things.

"Saes--Elbereth, please--" Legolas pled, unsure what he wanted. Only that he burned. Burned deep and bright and pulsating and the Lady's dark eyes added fuel to the fire and Aragorn's touches threatened to overwhelm him and lose him.

Inside, he was a confusing maelstrom of need and want, desire and pride. He knew not whither to turn. He had no knowledge of passion like this. He had no protection against his own desires.

He desired Estel, but he must needs accept Arwen. Arwen had said it was no great burden, yet all his long life he had accepted that there was only one for each being, only one true love to which they could hold--and his had been usurped before he had had an inkling of his loss.

And it had been a loss, great and deep and barren his future had loomed without the Dunédan by his side. Yet, it had been a loss he had been determined to accept for Estel's happiness. But now! Now, he could accept. And in accepting gain that which he had thought beyond him forever. Yet the acceptance came at such price!

"Do it, beloved. Mark him." Arwen's voice had grown breathy.

Teeth pressed against his neck and pain erupted behind his eyes, Legolas gave a surprised shout and squirmed in Aragorn's hold, his arms coming up as if to push away an unseen attacker, his fingers clawed weakly against open air. The heat of Aragorn's erection branded the Elf as surely as the Dunédan marked him with his mouth.

Pleasure quickly followed the pain as Aragorn tenderly laved the bruise upon Legolas's neck, even as the Man toyed with the Elf's erection, sliding the damp silken material of Legolas's leggings around and down the length of the Elf's shaft in a grip calculated to tantalize.

"Sweet--Elbereth!" Legolas gasp of pleasure sounded loudly in his ears, and he found himself fighting the urge to drop to all fours and command Aragorn to take him, to take him swiftly and hard. To purge the aching in his loins, to bring them both to completion and to leave Legolas so exhausted that all doubt and fear would be erased from his mind.

"Do you take pleasure in my mark upon your flesh, Sweet Elf? Even now, it blossoms dark upon your fair skin. All may see it and know that you are taken. Would it please you if I announced to all and sundry that you were mine?"

Legolas shivered, mewling in soft response. He could not help but twist and turn within Aragorn's grasp, desiring to be touched, needing to be touched, and wishing to feel the Man's lips upon his mouth, upon his body. Taking him.

Aragorn continued to taunt Legolas quietly as the Man's hands moved ceaselessly upon the Elf. Legolas twisted and let loose a small cry when the Man's clever fingers lightly circled then roughly pinched his nipples, each in turn. He found himself rubbing catlike against the erection burning against him--into him--so unyieldingly.

A fervent longing to be possessed burned without relief through Legolas and he whimpered as Aragorn removed his hand from the Elf's needful erection. Legolas gave an involuntary thrust of his hips crying out at the loss. "No! Estel!"

"Beautiful. You are so very beautiful, Legolas. You are a joy to behold in your passion."

Embarrassed beyond speaking by the flaunting abandonment of his body, Legolas turned his face against Aragorn's neck, closing his eyes tightly. As if in the darkness, he would be free of all painful perplexity. As if he could deny his surrender, his willingness to do anything, to be anything just for the hope of Estel's touch.

Arwen's nearness was too much. She hovered too near, as if she waited but the right moment to lay claim to his body, as well. It seared him with painful intensity. He could not handle this. With Aragorn's touch gone from his body, he was painfully aware of his disheveled state.

Just as he knew he must needs flee, his body tensing in anticipation of his flight, Aragorn grasped the Elf's slender hips in hard hands and pulled Legolas tight against the Man's body.

"You cannot run, now, little Elf. I gave you your opportunity and you refused it. I will not allow you to gainsay your word."

Arwen moved away from him with a soft swish of robes. Legolas would have fallen in his relief, but for Aragorn's strong grip.

Legolas could hear the bed creak and the Lady gave an amused chuckle. "Do not deny me such pleasure, sweet prince. Open your eyes and look upon me. I wish to see your face fully as you are claimed by him who loves you so."

"Ai... I cannot. Please... " Legolas could feel the shameful color touching his cheeks, his ears burning as he was put on display for Arwen. Still, there was an unbidden thrill twisting darkly within him at her words and a long slow answering throb in his heated flesh.

"Open your eyes, melethron-nin. Do as the Lady bids you." Aragorn slid his hand across Legolas's belly and down to his groin, once again cupping the Elf's heavy sex in a demanding hand. When Legolas did not move, Aragorn gave the arousal within his hand a warning squeeze and Legolas's eyes flew open.

Arwen sat upon the bed, her cheeks flushed as assuredly as Legolas's, her bosom heaving. Her robe draped open exposing one white shoulder and rounded breast. Her hand was stroking along her long slender throat, sliding seductively down the soft swell of breast to fondle her nipple to hardness. Her other hand had drifted beneath her robes, the movement of cloth leaving little doubt as to what she was doing.

Swallowing with difficulty, fire surged through him at her wanton display of lust and pleasure. Surely he could not be so moved, he loved her not, yet she was beauteous in her wildness.

"Do you not find pleasure in what you see?" Her husky sweet voice brought his eyes back abruptly to her face. Her eyes gleamed like stars in the night, sleepy with pleasure, her pale cheeks spotted with color, her head thrown back so that she glanced at him through shuttered lashes. She was painful to behold.

"Sweet Elbereth... " Legolas moaned.

She raised one pale leg to the bed and shifting just that small amount, exposing herself for Legolas's captive approval, her fingers fondling the lightly furred mound between her thighs. A quiet gasp escaped her, her smile wicked and teasing as her hand worked. "I imagine you touching me, Legolas. I can feel your eyes. Your innocent surrender is all the more potent in your rebellion. You quite take my breath away. I can be patient for the dream to be reality. It will be a pleasure to aid Estel in taming you to our touches. Wild bird, indeed."

Her wicked words flayed his flesh. Legolas felt a wild recklessness rear its rebellious head within him, and he sought to pull from Aragorn. To leave these rooms, and leave quickly before he did surrender. Before he gave in to their entreaties, it was not within him to do this. He would deny this. He could fight this. He would find Lord Elrond and ask to be replaced, he would cite his Father's need of him within the reaches of Mirkwood and youthful over zealousness for his pledge to the Ringbearer.

Still, Legolas could not break his gaze from her lascivious exhibit. And the line of Arwen's throat, pulse beating visibly beneath the pale thin flesh and her heaving bosom arrested his thoughts. He felt as though he were caught, pinned helpless within amber, unable to break away from the viewing of so private a moment.

Elves were not abashed in their sexuality, yet Legolas had never seen any flaunt themselves so openly. In his Father's Realm, things were not done so blatantly. There was much ritual to a joining, and loveplay was ever kept quiet and hidden within the reaches of home and Wood.

With a wicked wink at the stunned Sindarin Elf, Arwen commanded in a breathless voice, "Show him to me fully, my love. Let me see what he seeks to deny us."

Her command sent a bolt as painful and bright as a lightning strike blasting through Legolas. "Estel...?" Legolas did not know for what he was pleading, but he felt Aragorn's arm tighten about him, as if to thwart any attempt at fleeing.

The Man's callused hand swept unmercifully across Legolas's chest. Roughened fingers plucked at one of Legolas's nipples, keeping the Elf's need surging with the power of a storm tossed forest, whilst the Man slowly pushed the soft material down the elf's slender hips.

Legolas wanted to sob with his want. Frustration and desire warred within him; he wished desperately to flee. To hide in the deepest cavern within Mirkwood and remain until the next age. Panic arced through him as he felt the elven cloth pulled down over his erection and left rolled low about his hips framing the tight drawn orbs that rose high between his thighs. There could be no denial his body's approbation of all that was transpiring.

His erection gave an enthusiastic leap as the warming morning breeze kissed the glistening head of his sex. He whimpered, face ablaze. He could not understand himself anymore. Mayhap, did not want to. He did not wish to question his obedience to Estel nor Estel's to Arwen, for he was unsure he wished to know the answer.

Aragorn placed his palm beneath Legolas's genitals, lifting the smooth hairless sacs until they pressed tightly against his organ, holding both up for the Lady's viewing. Arwen's soft sigh at Aragorn's casual display of Legolas's most private parts drifted upon the teasing breeze.

Embarrassed beyond speaking, Legolas once again turned his face away. At Aragorn's touch, Legolas's organ danced like a cat acknowledging its master.

Darkly, Aragorn commanded, "No one may touch you here. Your pleasure is mine to give or not as it pleases me. Do you understand?"

When Legolas refused to respond, Aragorn gave the swollen flesh in his hand a swift rough stroke from root to tip, thumb sliding through the liquid coating the glistening crown. "Answer me, little Elf."

His legs weak, Legolas collapsed against the furred body behind him. Again, Aragorn chuckled deeply, sending puffs of moist warm air tickling the small hairs at the nape of Legolas's neck. "Ai, Estel...I cannot answer. Do not make me."

At his plea, Legolas could hear Arwen's quiet gasps of pleasure increase. The Elf's stomach flipped and rolled, his heart thudding erratically behind the barrier of his chest. Shame and a strange joy moved through him that he could affect the Elven Lady so.

Aragorn hugged Legolas tighter to his body, a brief roll of the Man's hips teasing his swollen member along the narrow crevice that hid the entrance to Legolas's body. Thick as a fog filled night, his voice rolled like a caress over the Elf's body. "I think that is what you wish. You desire to serve me. To heed my commands. You want no choice. It rushes through you with the fleetness of a strong wind, I can feel you tremble at my words."

Again, Aragorn stroked the rigid flesh in his palm. Clutching at Aragorn's thighs as if to anchor himself, Legolas felt the calluses of that hand glide across the soft flesh of his erection and cried out in helpless ecstasy as he sought greater contact. "Saes..."

"Have you forgotten already, lirimaer? Will we needs do this each time? Why do you resist? You know your desire burns hotter than the forges of Aule. Your need surges through you."

Arwen's voice drifted as on a dream, "Surrender yourself to him, Legolas. It is what lies hidden in your heart. You have seen it, even as we. It does you no good to fight your own needs."

Tears pricked beneath his closed eyes as surely as her words pricked his spirit. He could not deny the desire driven turmoil and confusion within him. He did not wish to watch her knowing eyes, nor did he wish to view the curl of Aragorn's knowing smile as he handled him.

"Stroke him, gently, my love. I do not wish him to spend himself too soon."

Immediately the Man gentled his hold upon Legolas, heedless of Legolas's incoherent protests. Feather light touches drifted along the shaft of the Elf's hard organ. Long slow strokes, pulling the flesh of Legolas's foreskin over the weeping crown of his arousal and pinching it closed until the Elf gasped and thrust and squirmed to escape his torment. Aragorn's swift touches and gentle taunts kept him twisting on the edge of painful pleasure, his sex aching for sweet release.

Legolas let loose a needy sob. "Do not plague me so!"

"Shhh. Shhh... melethron-ne. You have but to say the words to earn your release." Aragorn allowed his thumb to tease the head of Legolas's organ smearing the warm liquid around the head, fingers stroking around the taut foreskin teasingly.

"I... " A shudder moved through the Elf, it felt as though a star throbbed within Legolas's loins, threatening to explode into a thousand pieces and him with it. He writhed against Aragorn, twisting and turning in his grip, small pleading sounds escaping his lips firmed against sound. "Saes... "

Blood thrummed through his ears, and though he knew that Arwen watched avidly as she pleasured herself, he found he could no longer draw breath enough to care.

He felt stifled, suffocating, hot, he arched against Aragorn pleadingly, hoping to drive the Man beyond his endurance, hoping that Aragorn would forgo his taunting demands and merely take him like a beast in rutting season. Wanton in his desire, he thrashed and wriggled against Aragorn, the Man's heated member a newly forged spear pressing hotly against the hidden entrance to Legolas's body. The Elf pushed back desperately seeking to pierce himself on the pulsing shaft.

A low, seductive laugh rasped by Legolas's pointed ear. "It is not so easy as that, mellon-ne."

And the Elf could not credit the Man's control, so great was his own need. Yearning twisted through him with the violence of a storm, leaving him shaken and sundered as Aragorn teased his opening, the tip of the Man's hot organ pressed tight against his body, only to pull back before breaching him. A muffled sob escaped Legolas. "I shall hate you all my years!"

Aragorn rumbled warningly, "That is three, lirimaer. Truly, you wish to be punished anew." Scraping his teeth against the lobe of Legolas's ear, Aragorn at once roughly pinched the nipple between his fingers and tightened his grasp upon Legolas's rigid flesh. "Answer me, melme. To whom do you belong?"

With a breathless cry of surrender, his voice quavering with his want, Legolas murmured answer was lost.

"I did not hear you."

"Im-boe le-si! Boe-li! Saes! Estel!"

Pooling heat resided in his groin and surged upward, and Legolas thrust desperately against the hand holding him, feeling his release swell. Aragorn swiftly moved his hand and restrained the rising tide with a cruel pinch of thumb and finger at the root. Legolas cried out his dismay.

"I have sworn it to you! What more can you ask? You know that I am yours. Yours alone. Do with me as you please, but finish this! Or let me... "

Legolas reached towards the ache between his legs, teeth gritted as his fingers barely brushed the heated flesh before Aragorn knocked his hand away. "Your pleasure is mine, mine alone to give or deny. That is what you have agreed to, pen-rhovan, and I will hold you to that."

And again, the Man closed his fist but lightly and teased his organ unmercifully, bringing the rush of release to its apex time and again, forcing soft cries and painful yelps from the Elf each time he was denied his completion.

In wild abandon, Legolas bucked and stretched, rubbed and moaned, his want and desire scorching through him as Anor touched the Wilderlands in summer. Ruthlessly Aragorn held back Legolas's final release, until the elf pled shamelessly. Legolas lost his ability to think, to speak; he was the fulcrum of a summer tempest, ball lightning flaring, fire gathering in his loins and blazing out, inarticulate sounds mewling helplessly from his throat, his hands clawing helplessly at Aragorn's thighs.

Arwen's soft cries of completion wound through his pleasure induced haze sharpening his desire as he struggled with his own passion swept body. This moment in time, he would give all that he was just to have Aragorn claim him once more and the knowledge spread through him with the undeniable force of the ending of an age and he could have wept at the loss of his innocence.

He barely heard in his torment, Arwen's quiet voice grant him mercy. "Bring him to completion for me, Estel. Let me see the joy of his surrender in your hand."

In answer to her words, the Dunédan fisted Legolas's arousal, licking his ear and nuzzling the long pale neck. Aragorn commanded him through the hazy maelstrom of pain and pleasure, "Open your eyes, little Elf. You have forgotten yourself. Give the Lady your pleasure. Let her see you helpless in my hand. Let me feel you spend yourself, pen-rhovan-nin.

So saying Aragorn bit Legolas's neck sharply upon his earlier mark, even as he closed his fist tightly about Legolas's aching member. The Elf arched away from the flare of pain into the heat of pleasure.

Flames rose up and consumed Legolas, no warning touch gainsayed the explosion surging throughout his body. Helplessness washed through him as wave upon wave of arousal and desire crashed over him. His seed spilled in uncontrolled pulses across Aragorn's closed fist, leaving him shaken and trembling.

A savage cry winged its way from Legolas's panting lips as Aragorn continued to pull upon his flesh until it became a pained pleasure. He slumped back against the Man, weakness quivering in his limbs. He could yet feel Aragorn's hardness pressing between his legs, and in the fog of release he understood that all was not finished.

Aragorn's arms wrapped tightly about Legolas, holding the Elf upright against his lightly furred body. Soft words spoken only between lovers whispered into Legolas's upswept ear as the Elf stared dazedly about. Tremors yet wracked the slender body and his breath was harsh in a room both too large and suddenly too small to contain all that had transpired.

Standing, Arwen crossed the room to where Elf and Man stood in frozen tableau. Aragorn's arms tightened briefly, defensively over his Elf, before relaxing his hold somewhat, watching his betrothed expectantly.

Legolas allowed his head to fall back limply against Aragorn's shoulder, dimly he wondered when she had finished disrobing and what more could be done to him that had not already been enacted.

Musk filled scents twined with her gentle perfume and the smell of Legolas's release hung heavy upon the air, as though the breeze could not remove the evidence of their insanity. For insanity, it was. Legolas was certain of that much as he warily watched the Lady of Rivendell's approach.

Gently, though Arwen touched questing fingers upon his sweat-dewed chest; he could not help but flinch.

"Why do you fight this still? You abhor as much as you love it. Whose thoughts have shaped your fears?" She traced his parted lips with her fingertips, "I do not understand why you yet hesitate. There is no shame in your surrender, my prince. None here seek to harm you. You do not have to be the strongest in the room. You do not have to be your Father's son within these walls."

Her words were like scourges, lashing at Legolas and he sought to avoid her gaze, fearful that she would read all that lay hidden yet within him. "Look at me, Legolas. What is it that you fear?"

Light was like her raiment and her eyes were the darkness of hidden knowledge and power. Her love clothed her in a glory too hurtful to behold and he felt his breath catch painfully in his chest. He could not look away. She had given all that she was, all that she could be, for her love. It consumed her and anointed her and her face was filled with the light of Varda.

He sensed her Grandmother's presence and power within her, the like a simple Elf of the Sindar could never hope to understand or wield, and could not help but remember that the arms which held him were hers to command.

Frightened, his thoughts returned like migrating birds to their northern homes in the summer lands to her words of three-ing and joining and he pondered their merit and meaning for the first time. In the dimness of passion's embrace, he recalled Aragorn saying that he belonged to her, as well as to the Dunédan. He was unsure if he had her strength--to give of himself so freely.

Would his love not condemn him to estrangement from all that he had held dear all his years? Would not his Father and brothers turn their faces from him? Could he walk, knowing, away from the Blessed Lands for this love whose flames threatened to burn him to ashes in the heat of their passion? How could he live knowing his life to be twined so fully with Arwen and Aragorn that his Doom depended upon their happiness? And to know that when their years had surpassed them and both Man and Nissi lay cold in the grave, could he accept the grief that would lay heavy and unyielding upon his heart, surrendering to torment and tears until he could join them? Could he give this? Fear shadowed his eyes and he stared at her with the certainty of a wild bird caught in a snare.

Lightly running her fingers from his heart to his groin, she dabbled the tips about his flaccid sex, her eyes never leaving his face, her smile all encompassing. With intent look from which Legolas could not drag his gaze, she lifted her slender fingers covered with the Sindarin Elf's seed and licked at them delicately, as if savoring a confection brought at great peril from over the Sundering Seas. Her soft breath caressed the Prince's throat; "I know that which you fear." Lifting gracefully on her toes, she lifted her lips to Legolas.

Frozen, the Prince of Mirkwood stared at her, not sure this was a step he could take. Wondering wherein things had become so confusing. Thoughts of simpler times came to him and though his body quivered as if in hasty need of retreat, he made no move to escape from Aragorn's arms, which encircled him still.

Aragorn providing both warning and safety in a world that made little sense to the Silvan raised Legolas. Too late, by far, his Father's words to be wary the Noldor, for their customs were not those of the Sindar.

He started as Aragorn spoke, the amusement in the husky tones irritating. "Kiss her, melme. 'Tis not polite to keep a Lady waiting."

Another broken sob escaped him as he understood, how could he not? For he was already entangled in unbreakable bonds and had been unaware and delighting in his ignorance until Aragorn and Arwen between them had lifted the veil from his eyes. He could no longer claim to be blind and unknowing. To deny it now would be to doom all of them to sorrow.

Diffidently, Legolas allowed his lips to part and accepted the kiss Arwen pressed tenderly against his lips. He could taste the wild tang of his essence upon her tongue as she gently claimed his mouth.

With skill and tenderness, she explored him, her tongue entreating his to tangle and play with hers. She held her body away from him as if she thought full contact would send him flying from these rooms, and some small corner of Legolas's mind acknowledged that she had guessed rightly.

Aragorn nipped lightly at his jaw, his roughened hands passing over Legolas's chest and belly in slow soothing circles. When Legolas sought to retreat from the kiss, the Lady followed him, her lips pressing increasingly demandingly upon his, he reached to push her gently from him and his hands were claimed by Aragorn in a light, but unyielding grasp.

There was something both terrifying and freeing in being controlled so completely by Aragorn. Legolas relaxed completely into the Dunédan's hold, accepting the Man's control over his body, even as he accepted Arwen's caresses.

Arwen released him from her kiss, her fingers smoothing tangled braids and sweat-dampened hair behind his ears. She cupped his face in both her hands and regarded him gravely, as if seeking an answer to a question he had not yet heard. Her smile was gentle, like new fallen rain upon the budding of the trees.

Captivated in spite of all his misgivings, Legolas held his breath, waiting for the answer she was seeking. "Lirimaer. I see why Estel's heart is torn. If I had known you first, it would have been a difficult task knowing my own heart." She placed soft kisses along his cheek and jaw, nipping delicately at his neck. "Sometimes, we must face the void, whether we wish or no. It is no shame to need help, mellon-ne. You know your heart, hiding will not ease your pain."

Chaotic thought returned to him once more, as his breathing subsided and his heart ceased trying to flee his chest. Legolas became restive between the two lovers and sought to pull from Estel's grip.

A hiss escaped the Prince as Aragorn thrust between Legolas's legs, nudging the heavy sacs that swayed between Legolas's slim-muscled thighs with the damp crown of his arousal, a rigid reminder of the Man's unsatisfied needs.

"Not yet, Legolas. You have forgotten something." Smiling sweetly, Arwen trailed her fingers across Legolas's throat as if reluctant to lose her connection to the youthful Silvan Elf. She briefly circled one of his nipples with her hand, watching the rose colored patch tighten and crinkle beneath her fingertips. "So very eager to please. So much in need of Aragorn's strong command. You do enjoy this, do you not, pen-rhovan?"

Unable to deny what was obvious to all, Legolas made token protest, unable to keep the emotion from threading through his silvered tones, "Do not call me that."

"No?" Arwen arched a delicate brow, seemingly amused at his words. She looked up at Legolas again, "Do not leave Estel in pain, pen-rhovan. He has pleased you well, would it not be meet to return the favour?" She let her hand fall to her side, stepping far enough away that Aragorn was able to turn the Elf within his embrace.

The Man captured Legolas's lips in a bruising kiss, crushing the lithe body to him, his tongue demanding and gaining entrance. He lay claim to Legolas's lips as a conqueror, the same way he lay claim to Legolas's body, allowing no room for protest or denial. One large hand grasped Legolas's buttocks and pulled him tight against Aragorn's groin, fingers teasing along the shadowed crevasse, his other hand tangled into the long golden tresses, pulling Legolas forcefully into the kiss as he covered the bow-shaped lips with hungry kisses, as if he could devour the Elf.

Arwen's breath caught at the raw display of power and dominance. Aragorn pulled Legolas away from his lips only when their lungs were screaming for lack of air. His ravenous gaze pinned the Elf, so that Legolas stood tremulous within his grasp, the Man's sex leaking wetly against the Elf's belly. Legolas licked his kiss-swollen lips, eyes grown huge, the kiss fanning awake the flames of passion's need within him. A single kiss from Aragorn and he was aflame!

He burned for the Dunédan. Burned for his touch. Was afire for one word, one glance. His body trembled and betrayed him whenever Aragorn was near.

Never could he have enough of this Man. The thought that he could still lose all this with careless word or gesture was as fraught with dread as that of committing himself to both Estel and the Evenstar. He did not know how close he and Arwen would be--could be. He did not know if for Aragorn, he was willing to accept much more than the caress of the Lady. Yet, he had done so already, so was that not his answer?

Aragorn placed his palms on Legolas's shoulders guiding the Elf down to his knees with gentle pressure.

Legolas folded gracefully to the floor, his long hair swaying in a sensual tease between his shoulders as he knelt back on his heels. Kneeling at Aragorn's feet, the Elf was besieged with conflicting desires. At once, he wished to rise and give challenge, to square his shoulders and lift his head proudly and deny Estel's power over him.

And there was a hidden part, brought to the fore by all that had transpired, that wished to take delight in groveling before the Man, rubbing his face across the Man's groin and genitals like a great cat in heat. He felt his sex grow heavier, still, with the images of his debasement before Aragorn and heat washed across his face.

Legolas stared up the tall, well-muscled body of the Dunédan, his breath fairly stolen by the regal bearing and the dark fiery gaze directed at him.

The Wood Elf took a moment to devour the beauty of the Man. Though he had seen Aragorn naked before, never had he felt his ease to stare so boldly. Where Legolas was slender muscled, Aragorn was broad. Where the Elf was smooth, the Man was furred. Nipples the color of rare Rhovanion Chocolates peeked from whorls of dark hair that decorated the Man's broad chest, a path led from his pectorals down to his navel.

Legolas allowed his eyes to hungrily follow that dark trail, until level with the Man's arousal standing rigid from its bed of dark curls. Aragorn's sex was like the Man, broad and powerful, strong and demanding. Love's dew was glistening in strands from the single eye adorning the plum colored head.

Swallowing sharply, Legolas inhaled, the mingled scent of sweat and sex and something so subtly Aragorn that it caused his head to spin and Legolas's erection throbbed with long slow delight as he knelt at the Man's feet.

There was something so subservient, so different in his attendance upon Aragorn than upon other lovers, it made Legolas's heart beat erratically. He reached a hand to fondle the fur-covered sacs riding high between the heavily muscled thighs. A wondering smile fleeing across his face as Aragorn gasped at the fragile contact.

"Do not use your hands, Legolas."

Starting, Legolas flushed. He knew not how he had forgotten that Arwen was yet in the room. She must have gained her skill of quiet approach and command from her Father.

"Put your hands behind your back, sweet prince." Her voice was calmer than it should be. Legolas could not fathom how she remained so calm when he himself were ready to scream.

"Do it, melme. Do as she commands." Aragorn's voice was harsh with desperation and hard fought control, his eyes glittered like twin flames, the heat of which threatened to burn Legolas to ash and leave nothing.

Their words caused Legolas to harden further and his arousal danced lightly upon his thigh in eager anticipation. He flushed at his own lewd display, as he placed his hands behind him, very much reminiscent of last e'en. Memories of lying across the Dunédan's lap, helplessly exposed and vulnerable returned to him tenfold sending a rush of heat pulsing through his body like hot summer winds and a long answering throb like the beat of drums beneath deep in the caverns of Arda sang through his groin.

He gulped air as he felt something soft being wound about his arms. Glancing over his shoulder in alarm, he found Arwen twisting the sash from her robe about his wrists.

Arwen merely shook her head, "Do not fear, pen-rhovan. I do not seek to bind you. Merely to remind you when in passion's sweet remiss that you may not use your hands." True to her word, she but lightly tied the silk band.

Another ripple passed through Legolas, as he tested the bit of ribbon and found enough give that should he put his mind to it, he could twist free. His body was a separate wild beast from his mind, his arousal seeming fond of the idea of her command. A stray thought scattered through his mind, and he wondered greatly if Aragorn perceived some dark thrill in obeying his betrothed.

Legolas leaned his forehead against Aragorn's leg, long strands of blond hair hiding his face. Deeply the Wood Elf inhaled, though the fog of desire that created did not cool the heat of his loins as he struggled to bring his body under his command.

He was unused to this fire, burning so hotly, so brightly within his flesh. Never had he thought to revel in submission. Never had he thought to submit to anyone. It was alien to him. And the very strangeness brought with it an illicit tingle of fear that was as a scourge to his excitement fanning the flames of his passion into a frenzy. Legolas groaned softly, rubbing his head against Aragorn's leg.

Cool fingers stroked the hair back from his face and took hold of his chin, tugging him with gentle demand towards Aragorn's rigid shaft. "Sup," came Arwen's cool-voiced command, and Legolas briefly thought that mayhap, should Arwen be given command of Men and Elves, Sauron would be in much distress.

In brief rebellion, Legolas pulled his chin from betwixt her fingers. If he were to do this thing, and he knew that he could not--would not--deny himself now, then he would do it under some measure of his control. He twisted his hands reflexively against the soft cloth upon his wrists and resisted pulling his arms free as he leaned forward, nuzzling against the tight furred orbs pulled taut beneath the weeping shaft of Aragorn's sex.

Delight hummed through him as he heard Aragorn's needful cry, and Legolas nosed through the soft fur decorating Aragorn's sacs until tremors shook the Man. Legolas pulled back to give swift glance and found his blood thundering through his veins as Aragorn tangled both hands in the Elf's hair pulling Legolas almost off balance.

The Man's voice was harsh as broken glass in his demand, "Do not tease me." Straight and piercing as an arrow, the Man's shaft pointed from his belly, the evidence of the Dunédan's desire for the Mirkwood Prince leaking from it's purpled tip.

At the painful urging of Aragorn's hands curled talon-like into his scalp, Legolas parted his lips, licking along the throbbing vein coursing the underside of Aragorn's heavy erection.

"By Elbereth... " Aragorn breathed raggedly, his head thrown back and his body trembling with each long lick of Legolas's tongue. He clenched his hands repeatedly in the soft strands of hair twisted through his fingers, slitted eyes locked on the Elf.

Raw wonder seized Legolas as he laved the length of Aragorn's shaft worshipping each individual centimeter of the Man's maleness. Legolas had thought only he was caught in this spell, yet Estel was as wrung as he. The power he held at this moment surprised and overwhelmed him and the Elf Prince thought that he could find release from just this act alone.

"Legolas..." Sharp warning wrung through the syllables of his name and Legolas rubbed his face against the hot silken texture of the Man's arousal, leaning back a little to lick delicately at the head tasting the bitter essence drooling there. A loud incoherent growl broke from Aragorn's throat.

Legolas could not resist a small smile of triumph as the tremors increased visibly throughout Aragorn's body. He opened his mouth wider and allowed Aragorn to pull him roughly onto the Man's straining member.

This was different, Legolas felt off balance with his hands behind his back, his head being controlled by Aragorn as the Man held him steady, rocking his sex back and forth into the Elf's mouth.

The Elf had never been so thoroughly used before. He had always maintained the command and decorum required of his station. He had never allowed himself to lose control with any lover, nor to be so fully under their power. It was both frightening and exhilarating sending paradoxical demands for surrender and confrontation singing through him in ever increasing frenzy.

Legolas felt his mouth stretch to accommodate the girth of the Man. Aragorn thrust with barely controlled strength into the Wood Elf's mouth. Legolas could feel the tip of Aragorn's penis tickling the back of his throat.

Choking, Legolas struggled briefly against Aragorn's firm hold as he fought to open his throat to the intruder. He swallowed convulsively around the huge object, larger and wider than most elven members, as Aragorn's sex slid down his throat until his lips circled the root. Breathing was difficult and Aragorn loosed his hold enough that Legolas could slide back down the shaft and inhale quickly before being filled again.

His moans twisted through the air to join the low, deep guttural sounds rushing from Aragorn's throat and Legolas nosed into the hair at the base of the Man's sex, working his throat muscles and humming.

Unexpectedly, Legolas found himself pushed away, he gasped for breath, tongue running around his bruised and swollen lips as he stared at the wild-eyed Man dazedly and unsure. Aragorn shuddered like a horse run overlong, taking in deep heaving breaths as he fought for obvious control.

To Be Continued

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GLOSSARY

A'maelamin - beloved

Aule - The Ainur whose gift was in making (The Silmarillion)

Im-boe li-si - I need you now

Ithil - the moon of Middle Earth, Anor - the sun of Middle Earth

Lirimaer - lovely one

Melethron-ne - my love

Melethron-nin - loved one

Mellon-nin - my friend

Melme - love

Nissi - she-elf, female elf (Morgoth's Ring)

Pen-rhovan - wild one

Silvan/Sylvan - those tribes of Elves who were not of the Eldar, though less noble and wise in spirit than the Eldar, they were still good. The Silvan Elves dwelt in forests and mountain reaches, and in the Third Age most of them lived in various kingdoms such as Lórien and the Woodland Realm which was ruled by the Eldar, although some wandered in the wilderness of Middle Earth. (Abbreviated notes taken directly from "The Complete Guide to Middle-Earth by Robert Foster)

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I hope you all are enjoying the ride. I know I am having fun with this. That's half the battle. The other half is knowing that you like it, too. ^_^ CD