Title: Wicked Game

Author: Askani'daughter / Eruntalince (newloverboys@yahoo.com)

Website: http://www.loverboys-blue.com/

Rating: NC-17

Pairing / Main characters: Aragorn/Legolas

Series/Sequel: complete

Summary: Legolas wants to play a wicked game with the King of Gondor. And Aragorn is just in the mood to accept the invitation...

Disclaimer: Legolas and Aragorn belong to Tolkien. But they never got any action from him, so they came to me. And I took care of their problem.

Archive/Distribution: Sure, whatever. Just ask.

Date: Feb 2002

Warning: Pointless smut. Slash smut, no less. Translation: GAY GUY SEX ALERT!! If you don't like it, then make an about face and forward march the hell outta here.

Notes: This is for poor Marina, who is suffering from studying Political Science. As I once had to take this utterly boring and pointless course, I took pity on her. Here's your poor, frustrated Aragorn, being distracted by a seductive, fey Legolas. Very distracted. Her challenge was just what I needed to spur on my smut bunnies. Oh, yeah, and this has nothing to do with the "No Ordinary Love" series. Set after Return of the King. Yeah, pointless smut has its place in my- er, heart, too. :) And this is *not* a PWP. It's a PWDNNSP. "Plot?? We don't need no stinking plot!!" I make no pretense of any sort of story, nor is it supposed to be touching or anything like that. It's mooky Aragorn/Legolas smut, if you like that sort of thing.

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Wicked Game

By Askani'daughter

 

I, the King of Gondor, request that-

No good.

I , Aragorn, son of Arathorn-

Wait. He was King of Gondor. That wasn't his name anymore. What his name now?

I, King Elessar Tele-cout-haha-whatever.

Fuck, he had so many names now he couldn't remember how to spell his own last name at the moment. Or maybe that was just because of his state of mind.

I, King Elessar of Gondor, ask that you please give-

What the hell did he think this was? A tea party? This was a foreign trade agreement, dammit!!

Please send rice.

That would never work.

Look, you sons of bitches, we need your fucking rice, so send it over, or I'll have Legolas put arrows through your assholes.

So diplomacy wasn't his greatest skill. At least he could play checkers like nobody's business.

Trade ya for your rice?

Shit, why did his foreign trade minister have to be on holiday at this critical moment?

Will work for rice.

Who the fuck wanted the rice anyway? Aragorn didn't even like rice, and yet he had been trying to write a foreign trade agreement for it for over three- no, make that four- hours. It was enough to drive any insane man sane.

Aragorn brought the quill pen closer to his face, and inspected the tip, wondering if it was sharp enough that he could slit his wrists with it. But, it had ink on it, and Aragorn had enough of a sense of style to know that slitting one's wrists with a quill pen was not exactly very kingly.

He grabbed at the jeweled dagger on his belt, since Anduril was too far away. He pulled it out and bared his arm. He wasn't really going to kill himself, but if maybe he cut himself a bit, he could play it up and get out of writing the damn trade agreement until the foreign trade minister came back. Aragorn couldn't decide if he wanted to wring the bastard's neck for going on holiday, or give him a raise for all the moments like Aragorn's own that the man must have gone through. Aragorn girded his loins, so to speak, and set the dagger against his flesh, preparing to cut.

"I do not pretend to understand all the ways of Men, but does slitting one's wrist over a bit of parchment seem to be something of an extreme gesture?"

Aragorn was mildly startled, and cursed himself for losing enough focus not to notice the Elf slipping into his study. And there were only two Elves that Aragorn could name that were good enough to be able to sneak up on him, regardless of his concentration. And Arwen was visiting one of the villages on some public relations outing.

"Good evening, Legolas. And yes, it might be a bit extreme, but if you had spent the past four hours of your life trying to write a foreign trade agreement that's insidious nature can only be rivaled by the One Ring, you would rip those pretty little braids behind your pretty little ears out and hang yourself with them. I know if I had such braids, I would be dangling before my fireplace by them."

"Do you not like writing trade agreements, then?"

Aragorn resisted the urge to jump up from his table and throttle the beautiful blond Elf standing before him. He forced a smile onto his face instead, and said, "Yes, Legolas, I do not like writing trade agreements."

"I have never seen you so frustrated in all the years I've known you, Aragorn," Legolas said gently. He was the only person Aragorn knew that refused to call him by any other name than his birth name. Not even his wife and Queen, Arwen, called him Aragorn. Aragorn appreciated Legolas' usage of his one true name, apart from the dozens of others that had been given to him.

"Ah, but not even Sauron and the One Ring were not as frustrating as writing a trade agreement. I would rather dally with an Orc woman than continue as I am," Aragorn sighed.

A delicate golden eyebrow arched on Legolas' sculpted features. "Should I go find you one, then?" he asked, a fey smile threatening to spread across his face.

Aragorn growled and tried to go back to writing. "I said that in jest, Legolas. Well, half in jest. Do you know of any clean and willing Orc maidens I may distract myself with?" he asked with a heavy sigh, hoping the Elf would go away. It was becoming increasingly hard to concentrate on being diplomatic with Legolas' dizzying cologne on. He smelled of honeysuckle.

"No, but I know of a clean and willing Elf you may distract yourself with," Legolas purred out in his musical voice, resting a hand on Aragorn's, stilling the scratchings of the quill pen.

Aragorn shot his head up, a black eyebrow arching at the smiling Elf. "Arwen's at a village...she won't be back for several days..." he said, resisting the urge to smile back.

Legolas' fey smile only widened. "Exactly my point, Aragorn," he replied.

Aragorn once again repressed the urge to smile. It was on old game between them.

"Shouldn't you be off gallivanting around with Gimli?" Aragorn asked as nonchalantly as he could, shaking Legolas' hand off of his.

Legolas walked around behind him, and put his hands on Aragorn's shoulders, gently massaging them. "I just returned from one of our travels. I enjoy his company, but there are certain desires that Gimli cannot fulfill, or rather, I wouldn't want him to fulfill," Legolas said lightly, working out the tenseness in Aragorn's shoulders.

Aragorn let out a deep sigh, leaning into the touch and closing his eyes. He had to admit, those slim, Elven hands on his shoulders felt wonderful, and were definitely distracting him from his duties. Which he decided wasn’t a bad thing.

Legolas' hands suddenly stopped their ministrations, and then disappeared from Aragorn's shoulders. Aragorn made a strange sort of grunt that their loss, opening his eyes again.

"I came back to visit with you, my love..." Legolas whispered into his ear, his breath hot, tantalizing.

Aragorn moaned inaudibly, closing his eyes. How many years had he and Legolas been lovers? Before Aragorn even met and fell in love with Arwen. The beautiful Elven archer had made an impression of him, even as a youth. How he loved Legolas, even as he loved Arwen

"I am glad you finally returned. I long for you when you are gone," Aragorn said softly. He loved Arwen, but he loved Legolas just as much. Aragorn knew he could not let the fact that he loved another known to Arwen. It would break her heart, for she would not understand how he could love two people equally.

"As I long for you. But I cannot stay for too long, or people will suspect," Legolas said in a heavy voice that gave hint to his great age, despite the fact he looked young enough to be Aragorn's son.

Legolas understood that Arwen was a woman, the only love that Aragorn could have before the close-minded Men of Gondor. He also understood that Arwen would not understand Aragorn's dual love for both Arwen and Legolas. Long had they been lovers, but few knew of their true relationship.

"I know," Aragorn said sadly.

Legolas seemed to be studying him, even though Aragorn had not turned to look at the blond beauty. "You seem tense," he asked, threading his hands lightly through Aragorn's shaggy black hair.

"My damned foreign minister has gone on holiday, and left me with the job of trying to construct an agreement for rice from Harandor...South Gondor...I hate rice..."

Legolas started to massage Aragorn's scalp. "Poor Aragorn. Trying to play politics for a food you don't even fancy," he said.

"Being a king is definitely not as grand as one would think," Aragorn sighed, his body reacting easily to Legolas' gentle touch.

Legolas paused his ministrations. "I know. If you wish me to stop, and let you work, I shall," he said.

"If I wished for you to stop, Elf, I would have already said so," Aragorn responded, a bit haughtily. The rice could wait.

"Hmm. You forget, oh King of Men, when once you were but a youth taking archery lessons from me," Legolas said with amusement at Aragorn's tone. He removed his hands from Aragorn's head, leaving the king aching for his touch.

"I do not forget, youngest Prince of Mirkwood. I remember you quite clearly," Aragorn smiled fondly, remembering bright days spent hanging from trees as Legolas leapt from branch to branch, laughing and playing with young Aragorn, even as he taught him how to use a bow.

"I remember when you would watch me bathe."

Aragorn started. "You...knew...I spied on you...?" he asked a little sheepishly.

"Of course. You were but a adolescent, and I could not help but hear you sneak up to watch me, Aragorn."

Aragorn was silent, thinking this over. He had been seventeen before he had worked up the nerve to approach Legolas with his feelings and desires. To his surprise and pleasure, the Elf had accepted, seeming to return the love and desire equally.

Legolas' lips were suddenly pressed against Aragorn's ear again, breathing hot breath across his lobe. Aragorn's breath stilted as he was pulled from his thoughts.

"Would you like to play a game, Aragorn, son of Arathorn?"

"A game? What sort of game?"

"I think you know what sort of game."

"What are the rules?"

"I'll tell you as we go along."

"What is the object of the game?"

"You know that answer as well."

"Fey."

"Yes, I am. Do you wish to play or not?"

"If you are offering me the object of the game, I'd rather skip the game itself and move on to the object."

"Patience, Aragorn. I am an Elf. I do not like to rush things. If you wish for the object of the game, then you must play the game itself."

"You will not concede?"

"The object will be so much sweeter after having played my game. Will you play with me, then?

"...Yes..."

"Excellent."

And with that last word, Legolas was gone, as swiftly and as silently as a summer breeze. Aragorn stood, all thoughts of his trade agreement flown from his mind as he tried to figure out where the Elf had gone.

Aragorn sighed. "Legolas...?" he called.

Nothing. Not even the sound of footsteps, but with an Elf, there wouldn't be any.

Aragorn smiled a bit. He might as well play the game, even though he'd rather have Legolas already in bed at this moment. Anything was better than what he had been doing, and playing...games...with Legolas was something he always enjoyed doing. He walked out of the study, and looked down the hallway.

An arrow slammed into the door Aragorn had just opened, nearly taking his nose with it. Aragorn jumped a bit, as it had been a few years since he'd been in battle. He looked at the arrow, instantly recognizing it as one of Legolas'. It carried on it a note.

Aragorn ripped the note off, wondering what the chamberlain would think when he found an arrow stuck in Aragorn's study door. He studied the delicate Elven script, translating it to the human tongue as he read.

If you want me, little ranger, then come and get me.

A taunt. And a hint. Where to find Legolas? He referred to Aragorn as a little ranger. He had not been little in many a year, though not so long ago for Legolas. And he was a king now, not a ranger. And Legolas wanted him to chase after him. Aragorn put a hand to his chin, noting as he did so that now that he was king he should probably shave more often, but he often forgot.

An idea struck Aragorn and he removed the crown on his head and hung it off the arrow on his door. Let the chamberlain wonder at that. Aragorn walked stealthily out to his garden, his years as king not softening his skills as a ranger one bit. As the Elves had taught him, he walked unseen, and unheard.

And arrived in the pretty garden he had built for Arwen in the courtyard of his castle. Aragorn smiled as he entered, for he loved the garden as much as she. It was like a small piece of Rivendell in Gondor, as ethereal and fey as Elves themselves. Flowers of all varieties hung from trees, and the trees themselves were as lovely as any flower. The color and magic in the garden was palpable.

But where was Legolas?

Aragorn almost started to look amongst the thick foliage, when he remembered he was looking for Legolas, an Elf. The King of Gondor looked up and scanned the tree branches, looking for any sign of the blond archer.

After several minutes he finally spied the beautiful Elf sitting in a tree, smiling at Aragorn coyly. Aragorn took a step towards Legolas, and the Elf hopped down with unnatural grace and ran away, quicker than Aragorn could hope to be. Aragorn sighed, but his eyes caught on where Legolas had landed when he jumped off.

There was an arrangement of flowers. Aragorn bent down, examining them. The flowers were entwined in such a way only a skilled ranger could understand the secret code they were placed in.

I am waiting for you, Dunedan.

Aragorn sighed again. Elf games. He mulled over the message as he left his garden. Legolas was getting far too cryptic for his tastes, and he wished he could have just pulled the Elf into his bed, instead of playing a game that would waste his time.

Bed. Bedroom. Sitting room. Waiting room. Dunedan. Kings of men. His throne room!

Aragorn smiled at his own cleverness, and walked briskly to his throne room, hoping Legolas would not wish to continue this game, for Aragorn was not feeling particularly patient at the moment. He walked slowly and carefully into his throne room, human eyes straining for a glimpse of an Elf.

It turned out it was unnecessary, as Legolas was sitting on Aragorn's throne, playing with one of Aragorn's show crowns. Aragorn smirked, wondering what the chamberlain would say to an Elf sitting on a Man's throne, and trying on his crowns.

"Did you wish for a title in the lands of Men? I could make you a Duke, if you wished," Aragorn purred as he strode in. Legolas looked up at him and flashed him another coy smile.

"And what does a Duke do, my liege lord?" he asked, sarcastically using his title.

"I'm not sure, really. Mostly try to gain my favor with sweet words, and false oaths. They think they're very important," Aragorn shrugged, standing before his throne, and looking down at the slim Elf, who twirled Aragorn's best crown on his index finger.

"Men come up with such useless positions of authority. It sounds remarkably dull, especially since I already have your favor," Legolas smiled.

"What makes you believe you have my favor?" Aragorn asked with a smirk.

Legolas stood up and put his arms around Aragorn's shoulder, and placed a kiss on the king's lips. The intensity of the kiss bloomed as soon as their lips met, passion infusing warmth through Aragorn's body, and he became hungry, devouring Legolas' mouth greedily.

And then Legolas spun away from him, laughing. Aragorn growled as the Elf escaped his grip. Legolas jumped on the king's throne, smiling at Aragorn, who looked highly irritated.

"That makes me believe I have your favor, Aragorn. I'm not done playing with you yet. I am hungry," Legolas smiled and leaped backwards from the throne, and dashed for a window before Aragorn could catch him. He was gone in the blink of an eye. Aragorn snarled under his breath.

Aragorn very much wanted to tie Legolas to one spot. Which lead to other thoughts of that nature, and Aragorn found himself considering all the things he could do with a bound and gagged Legolas. Well, maybe not gagged. He had uses for that lovely mouth.

Based on Legolas' final statement, Aragorn walked quickly to the kitchen, after grabbing some silk scarves from one of the maid servants on his way. He tied them together as he walked, smirking in anticipation.

He reached the kitchen and found the chef standing outside, looking very put out. She bowed low to Aragorn upon seeing him. "King Elessar!! There is an Elf in my kitchen!! And he's eating all the chocolate sauce!!" she cried.

"I shall take care of it. Go back to bed, and don't concern yourself with my Elf. I shall punish him," Aragorn smiled.

The woman blinked at the odd expression on Aragorn's face, her eyes resting on the silk scarves entwined in his hands. Apparently, she decided she didn't want to know, and turned and left, casting a few glances back down the hallway. Aragorn waited until she was gone before entering his kitchen.

Legolas had the bowl of chocolate sauce in his hands, and was coating his finger with the sweet, gooey substance, and when Aragorn walked in Legolas smiled and stuck his finger in his mouth, making a show of sucking the chocolate sauce off his finger, and licking it clean. Aragorn felt his lower body flush with heat.

Legolas dipped his finger into the chocolate sauce again and held out his chocolate-covered finger to Aragorn. "Would you like a taste?" he purred out seductively.

Aragorn licked his lips, and approached the Elf carefully, in case Legolas decided to run away again. But the Elf’s finger was still proffered to the handsome brunet, and he had a seductive smile on his lips.

Aragorn grabbed the delicate hand, and slowly slid the chocolate-covered finger in his mouth. Legolas' smile deepened, and his smooth face flushed with heat. Aragorn sucked the chocolate sauce off Legolas' finger, swirling his tongue against the smooth pads of Legolas' finger. Legolas licked his lips as well, smiling in pleasure, his eyes dancing with desire.

Aragorn removed the finger from his mouth, licking it completely clean as held onto Legolas' hand, smiling back. "Enjoying yourself, little Elf?" Aragorn asked, making a point of the fact that he was a few inches taller than Legolas.

"Immensely," Legolas smiled. He still had chocolate sauce on his lips.

Before the Elf could even blink, Aragorn had him trussed up in the silk scarves and thrown Legolas over his shoulder. "I tire of your games, Legolas. You are dirty and need a bath," he said casually, carrying his tied-up, squirming Elf up to his bedroom. There were few people walking around the castle this time of night, and Aragorn was skilled enough to avoid the few that roamed the halls. Legolas squirmed and struggled, but he made no noise, thusly not calling any attention to them.

Aragorn dumped the Elf on his bed, and then gathered a few silk ropes he had lying around, and tied Legolas up even farther, restricting every movement but breathing and blinking for Legolas. The Elf gave him a baleful glare, to which Aragorn laughed at, and called for his manservant, Guidiope.

The elderly man arrived, more dignified than any Aragorn had ever met. He put even Elrond to shame, but he was as discreet as an assassin. Aragorn hid most of the view of Legolas tied up on the bed with his own body, and the only thing Guidiope got a glimpse of was long blond hair spread about Aragorn's sheets, and long legs bound with silk scarves and ropes. Guidiope had no reaction. After all, nobleman often took another lover besides their spouse. Even King Elessar, apparently, wished to experience the benefits of aristocracy.

"My good Guidiope, would be so kind as to draw a hot bath for me? And bring out the lavender and chamomile scented oil, please," Aragorn said with a smile, putting out a hand to still Legolas' futile attempts to free himself.

Guidiope bowed and stepped off to the bathing room to do as his king asked. When he emerged several minutes later to tell his king the bath had been drawn, he came upon the scene of Aragorn trying to manage stripping his lover while keeping him tied up. Aragorn had his knees braced against Legolas' thighs, and he was trying to wrestle his tunic off, but Legolas kept laughing under his gag, and wriggling to make it difficult.

Guidiope raised a white eyebrow. Aragorn finally got the tunic off, and looked very un-kingly when he grinned predatorily at Legolas while reaching down to remove the boots and leggings. Aragorn looked up distractedly at his manservant when he got the first boot off. Guidiope blinked. Aragorn's lover was not dressed like a woman.

"Thank you, Guidiope. I'll take care of it from here. Please tell the chamberlain I'm not to be disturbed, and I like my crown right where it is, so please leave it hanging off the door," Aragorn said, and pulled off the other boot, and Legolas' bound legs thrashed around, and muffled giggling could be heard from underneath Aragorn. Guidiope's eyes caught on pointed ears underneath thick blond hair.

"As you wish, your majesty," Guidiope bowed, blinking again when the leggings and breeches were removed. Aragorn's lover was not only not dressed like a woman, but was no woman at all. Indeed, it seemed Aragorn was attempting to bed a rather unruly male Elf.

"Oh, and Guidiope?" Aragorn asked as the manservant turned to leave.

"Yes, your majesty?" Guidiope asked.

"Please tell the chamberlain I'll finish the trade agreement later. I have other matters that require my kingly touch to attend to first," Aragorn grinned, stripping himself and then picking up the struggling, laughing Elf.

Guidiope bowed, and left the king's bedchambers, with only the barest hint of a smile on his thin lips. He was one of the few people in Middle Earth that Aragorn trusted with his secrets.

Aragorn walked into his bathing room, that had a large, sunken white tub in the center. Guidiope had already known he wanted a nice bubble bath. He unceremoniously dumped Legolas into the hot, foamy water, splashing the walls with water when his bound, struggling body slapped into it. Legolas shrieked underneath his gag.

Aragorn waded into his tub, and undid Legolas' gag, and held the Elf up so he wouldn't drown in the water. Legolas licked his lips, trying to glare at Aragorn but failing.

"You were supposed to be playing my game, and I wasn't done, Aragorn," Legolas pouted, looking like a petulant little boy.

"I grow weary of your constant games. Hide-and-seek was amusing when I was a child. So I changed the rules. Now you're playing my game," Aragorn answered casually, undoing the wet bindings of the beautiful blond, slashing through a few of them with his jeweled dagger and then tossing the weapon to the side. Only Legolas' wrists were bound behind him now, but Aragorn was too busy stroking the Elf's hips to bother with that.

Legolas leaned forward and kissed Aragorn, reuniting their lips to finish the passionate kiss they had shared in the throne room. Aragorn moaned softly into the kiss, his hands sliding around to grip Legolas' firm buttocks. Legolas gently began to wriggle his wrists free from their bonds, distracting Aragorn by rocking his hips against him.

Aragorn moaned as Elf and Man's erections brushed against each other in the hot, foamy water, and he gripped Legolas' buttocks tighter, purposefully rocking their hips together as they kissed. Legolas upped the pace, urgently grinding into Aragorn's erection, making the Man groan at the intense, almost painful pleasure.

Legolas finally got his hands free, and pushed Aragorn away from him, causing the dark-haired warrior to slip and fall beneath the foamy lather of the tub. Legolas made a dash for the edge, determined to get out before Aragorn.

Elven speed aided Legolas out of the water, and his grace prevented him from slipping and falling. Aragorn's thrashing was ungainly at first, but he quickly regained his equilibrium. Unfortunately for him, Legolas had already made it outside of the bathing room.

Aragorn growled, his gray-green eyes narrowing in frustration. Legolas may prefer to draw his love-making out, but Aragorn wanted him now. Aragorn climbed out of the tub, and walked to the bathing room door, taking on a proud step in his frustration. Even wet and naked, Aragorn walked like a king, and was prepared to find his Elf and make him finish what he had started.

Aragorn entered the cooler air of his bedchambers, stepping into the middle of his room and looked around. Legolas would not be foolish enough to leave the room soaking wet and naked, so he had to be hiding in the bedchamber somewhere. Aragorn's keen green eyes tried to spy Legolas' position.

He was interrupted when Legolas shoved him face down into the bed, and jumped on top of him, bracing Aragorn's well-muscled thighs with his own deceptively strong legs. Aragorn struggled upwards, but Legolas was pressing him into the bed, giggling on top of him.

Aragorn sighed and conceded, turning his face to the side and resting it against his soft silk sheets. "I suppose you wish to be on top this time, then?" he asked with a rumble of amusement.

"You were on top the last two times, lover. Now it's my turn," Legolas laughed, kneading Aragorn's strong, firm backside with Elven skill. Aragorn sighed contentedly. At least Legolas was staying in one spot.

"But I'm bigger than you are," Aragorn protested weakly, hearing, rather than seeing Legolas unscrew a vial. The scent of chamomile and lavender wafted past Aragorn's nose. Legolas must have grabbed the bottle of scented oil Guidiope had brought out for him.

"And I'm older than you are. What difference does that make?" Legolas laughed.

Aragorn grinned. "I'm more masculine than you are," he said, making a verbal game of it as he felt Legolas slip a finger down his crack, coating him with the warm oil.

Legolas snorted. "Perhaps by Men's standards. By Elven standards, you are as demanding as any woman," the Elf snickered mischievously.

"Fine, I look more like a man than you do," Aragorn argued.

"Of course you do. You are a Man. I'm an Elf. You act like the ability to grow fur on your face is a mark of masculinity. I swear, I don't know who is worse...you or Gimli...as if I would want to grow fur on my face just to prove my malehood," Legolas sniffed.

"But-!!" Aragorn said no more than that, as Legolas slipped a finger inside of him, coating his entrance with the warm oil. He exhaled loudly, closing his eyes and rumbling happily as Legolas found his secret spot.

"You are like a great cat. Rub you in the right way, and you purr and arch your back, aching to be petted," Legolas chuckled, slipping in another finger.

"You talk too much, little Elf. I want you inside me," Aragorn whispered.

" 'Little'...?" Legolas bantered playfully. "I hardly think so."

To prove his point, Legolas pushed himself inside his human lover, filling Aragorn with himself all at once. Aragorn moaned, and moved beneath him languidly, drawing the Elf deeper inside of him.

"Mmmm...you always feel so nice, Aragorn..." Legolas whispered huskily, pressing his entire body against Aragorn's back, pressing the King of Gondor deeper into his bed.

"As do you, Legolas," Aragorn moaned, clawing at his bed sheets in pleasure.

Legolas began to drive into the dark-haired beauty, his slim Elven form hiding strength to match Aragorn's. He adjusted himself, so as to make sure he drove against the spot that drove all men mad with pleasure, be they Elf, Man, or otherwise. The Elf purposefully pounded hard into Aragorn, driving the larger Man's own aching erection against the bed, the silk creating an intense friction. Aragorn's throaty cries mixed with Legolas musical moans, filling the room with the sounds of their pleasure.

Aragorn arched his back, and felt Legolas' naked, smooth chest against his back, conforming to the curve of Aragorn's body, even as he pistoned his hips deeply into the Man's body. Aragorn cried out loudly when Legolas' tongue snaked out and ran across the back of his neck, lapping at the beads of sweat and soapy water on his flesh. Aragorn moved back against Legolas, matching Legolas' own rhythm.

"Aragorn..." Legolas whispered huskily, a graceful hand worming beneath Aragorn's trembling body, and gripping the fire brand that was Aragorn's cock. Aragorn tried to bite off a scream of pleasure as his Elven lover worked his flesh with skill, alternately squeezing and sliding across Aragorn's leaking shaft.

Aragorn clawed at his bed sheets, tearing the delicate Elven silk, sobbing into the fabric as he came, his body stilling and then shaking with expenditure. The movement caused Legolas to cry out as well, and he joined Aragorn in ecstasy, giving a great cry of pleasure in the Elven tongue as he exploded deep inside the King of Gondor.

Legolas slumped on top of Aragorn and rolled over to the side, letting Aragorn roll to his side to face the blond archer. Aragorn wrapped his arms around the limp form of his lover, kissing him tenderly. Legolas met the hungry movements of lips and tongue, entwining his legs and arms with Aragorn's, their bodies meeting flesh-to-flesh at every possible place.

"Wicked game, Legolas. You cheated..." Aragorn breathed as Legolas’ full lips traveled across his throat. Legolas giggled, a giggle that was definitively masculine, but a giggle all the same. It reminded Aragorn of a child.

"You cheated. It was my game, and my rules. But I still came out on top," said Legolas airily.

"This time, my pretty Elf. This time," Aragorn laughed, kissing Legolas on the lips.

"I love you, Aragorn. I really do," Legolas smiled, cupping Aragorn's face in his hands and meeting the green gaze with his own intense blue, his tone serious in the intense way that only Elves could master.

"And I love you, my lovely Legolas," Aragorn smiled back, slowing their kiss to something slower and sweeter. As sweet as their love.

 

*********

 

King Elessar proudly presented the messenger a rolled piece of parchment the next day, a small, secretive smile on his lips. The messenger's eyes rested on the blond Elven beauty who was visiting the King. It was said that the Elven archer known as Legolas was capable of lightening King Elessar's spirit by his very presence, and that the Elf almost seemed to fade outside of the King of Gondor's presence. An interesting relationship. As he left, the messenger wondered at the nature of the King and the Elf's relationship, as he caught the King stroking the Elf's hair fondly, as one would with a lover they cherish.

The messenger found a horse and rode away to South Gondor, carrying the foreign trade agreement. Although he knew he was not supposed to, the human youth opened the parchment, being skilled enough to do it without breaking the seal. He scanned the writing, wondering what the King was asking for.

I, King Elessar Telcontar of Gondor, request that you please send the shipments of rice you have withheld in an attempt to raise the price, and gain leverage over me. Your attempts anger me, and I will not allow your greed to conquer Gondor. I wish for peace throughout my entire realm, and I think it is in your best interest you send the rice.

Otherwise I'll have Elves shoot arrows through your assholes.

*********

In less than two weeks, apologetic noblemen from South Gondor brought over the shipments of rice from their fields. The Elven archer who accompanied them looked most self-satisfied. Legolas was most pleased to discover the Men of South Gondor were very cordial and deferential to him. Though they had this odd custom of never presenting their backside to him.

Legolas wondered what Aragorn told them he would do to them if they did not comply.

 

END