Several days into the journey, Aragorn at last gave in to Pippin's
forlorn mumblings about second breakfast and 2 o'clock and tea. He
called along rest when early afternoon lit the sky. From the
way the Hobbits scrambled to start a mean and settle in for a pipe,
he suspected they wouldn't be getting started again that day at all.

Borimir's glare told him the son of Gondor had much the same thought.

Aragorn stood quietly at the edge of the clearing, watching the
Hobbits and smiling a little at their obvious pleasure. Borimir
gradually walked toward him, a thick sandwich stuffed with bacon and
sausage in his hand and a scowl on his face.

Standing near Aragorn, he finished the food and wiped his hands on
his trousers with another glare.

"Stopping is not a wise decision," he said at last, more quietly than
Aragorn expected.

The Ranger shrugged.

"The little ones needed the break."

"My people die by the hundreds... and we give Halflings an extra
dinner break.

Angered, Aragorn turned to him.

"Your people die because evil claims the Land. A few extra minutes of
happiness for our companions will neither hurt them nor prevent our
success."

"Success would be more certain if I were taking the Ring to my father
to defend my people - the people you abandoned." Borimir spoke
calmly, which is the only thing that allowed Aragorn to let the words
pass.

"The days ahead will be harsh. They should rest while they can. I
suggest you do the same."
Turning his back on the other Man, he glanced over the party. Gimli
and Gandolf were sharing a conversation on the other side of the
clearing. The Hobbits were cleaning up after the cooking.

"Your Elf has gone to the trees again," Borimir spoke right at his
shoulder. "Is it not enough that you have one of them at your beck
and call, you must have this one as well?"

Glancing back, Aragorn was startled to see sadness in the eyes Of the
man from Gondor. He thought he had hid his affair with Legolas better
than this, but Borimir had sharp eyes. He looked around again, and
saw what he had missed before.

The Hobbits were happy together, as they always were. The Wizard and
Dwarf had the comfort of an easy companionship, a bond of common
knowledge and interests.

Of them all, only Borimir was continually alone. Tough he walked with
them, he was not yet a part of them.

This realization softened his words.

"You misunderstand the situation, Borimir. Yes, the Maiden Arwen is
pledged to me, and I to her... it is an old arrangement, a fragment
of my childhood that lingers."

Borimir stepped away, disbelief on his face, while Aragorn turned to
face him again.

"Arwen and I have love and dedication that fades as the years pass.
What I share with Legolas... is passion."

A flicker of jealousy in those dark eyes. He could understand it well
enough.

"Men frequently overestimate the joys of loving an Elf," Aragorn
shook his head with a rueful grin, deciding to share something
personal in hopes Borimir would feel more a part of the company.
"They are beautiful and sensual, yes. And more stubborn and set in
their ways than any human can imagine without experiencing it."

"But worth it, eh?" Borimir gave him the universal male grin.

"When 'it' happens, which is far less frequently than you might
imagine. Spontaneity -- is a lost art among Elvin-kind. After
planning every detail for several months, the actual event sometimes
feels more like an afterthought."

He ducked his head slightly, not wanting to blush and give himself
away. He was telling the truth; Elves did plan their love lives much
as they planned battles. It could become wearisome.

But it never really felt like an afterthought.

He told himself he exaggerated to make Borimir feel more comfortable.

Of course, he'd been working on this particular problem for years.
Since the day he met Legolas of Mirkwood, he'd been working on it.

Now, he decided, was an excellent opportunity to work on it again.

"If you'll excuse me," he nodded his head. Borimir was still staring
at him, slightly stunned.

"I had a thought -" Aragorn turned back before he entered the
woods. "The little ones, they will need to learn to use the weapons
they were given. You are an excellent swordsman, Borimir. I believe
you are the right one to teach them what they need to know."

"Of course I will." he looked back at the little group.

Aragorn left before his smile gave him away. Though he spent much of
his time alone, he had learned to lead men at some level; he just
wasn't interested in doing it on a larger scale. There was too much
chance his heart would fail them and the evil in his lineage would
surface.
He had handled Borimir well, he thought. Now, if he could only manage
his lover with such ease.

It didn't take long to find him. The Elf had taken refuge beneath the
oldest tree in the area, as Aragorn had known he would. Ever a
creature of the Forest, Legolas was happiest when surrounded by
trees, listening to their quiet songs.

Once that had hurt Aragorn, but now he understood.

Legolas didn't move as he approached, but his eyes were watching when
Aragorn came around in front of him.

"An afterthought?" he said quietly.

Not so quietly Aragorn didn't hear the hurt in the words.

"Easy, beloved. You know the intent of my words, though the structure
may not have pleased you."

Long blond hair slid to cover the angled face as Legolas looked away,
pointedly ignoring him.

"None of that," Aragorn moved up beside him and slid an arm around
the slim waist. "If I had any complaints, I would have voiced them
e'er now."

"You have," Legolas was tense. Aragorn sighed.

"I thought we had passed through this storm, beloved."

"As had I."

Legolas shrugged, not quite pushing him away with his body, but
clearly uncomfortable in the embrace.

"Why do you hold me, when we can do no more?"
"Legolas!" Aragorn huffed. "You know well enough that I hold you
because I desire you! it is not only your sex I seek, but your
companionship, as always!"

"You would have us joined at the hip!" Legolas pulled away now,
facing Aragorn with anger. "This is not the way of me people and yet
you persist."

"This is the way of mine and I ask only what you can give," worried
by the anger and the hurt he knew underlay it, Aragorn spoke
tenderly. "We have shared many gentle moments together, melethron. I
do not understand why you reject them this day."

He reached and stroked Legolas' smooth face with the knuckles of his
hand, letting it come to rest on a sturdy shoulder.

"Balance has always been the key between us.. if I have upset
unknowing, I would have you tell me how."

"You have not," Legolas admitted. His eyes dropped and he captured
the hand, bringing it to his face again and holding it there. "I am
weary, Estel. I feel - lost, and empty." He raised his eyes again,
the blue brighter than the sky above the trees.

"I do not like this feeling, though it is not your responsibility to
free me from it."

"If not mine, then whose?" Aragorn tipped Legolas' face and leaned
toward him. "I ache to hear you speak so, melethron. I wish..." he
paused and looked away briefly. "This is where a human would offer
physical comfort. Of the sort you dislike."

"Casual, yes." Legolas moved to pull away, but instead leaned closer.
Aragorn wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled the Elf to his
chest. He heard muffled words from beneath his hair as Legolas
nuzzled into his neck.

"Without plan or anticipation it cannot mean as much as it should."
"What should it mean, love?" Aragorn asked gently, easing back until
he was leaning against the broad trunk of the tree. He wrapped both
arms around the slender Elf, taking the chance to enjoy the warmth
and closeness, the fresh, sharp scent of him.

"More - more than momentary pleasure. More than a release of tension."

"Ah, Legolas. You still do not understand. Anything we do together
means more than that. Because it is between us."

Elf hands crept up his body to grip his tunic tightly beneath the
heavy overcoat. His body pressed. Though he denied his need with
words, Aragorn felt it more keenly than he had in months...

The Elves' habits of ritual and ceremony had always comforted him.
Even in lovemaking, there were set patterns. Dates and times and
places.

The burden of long life was easier to bear when one made sure one
always had something to look forward to.

The monotony was easier to fill with ritual and ceremony.

"I do not understand, Estel. I would give of my body to you, to
please you, not understanding."

"No, beloved." Aragorn sighed. "I would not have you coming to me as
a sacrifice."

Legolas did not reply to this. They stood for long minutes, the
embrace soothing to the Man, though he doubted his Elf gained any
benefit from it.

From the way he clung, Aragorn couldn't quite believe his denial of
need. Elves were truly separate beings, not given to cuddling or
casual contact, but sometimes Legolas, or more often Arwen, allowed
themselves to forget that. Then he could hold them and touch them as
he longed to.
His longing for Arwen had faded over the years, but his desire for
Legolas' touch -- or to touch him only -- it grew daily, or so it
seemed.

Soft lips touched his neck and he stiffened.

"Do not dishonor us with sacrifice, Legolas," he whispered.

"It is not sacrifice if I wish to learn," the Elf did not look at
him. Most likely could not, as this was brazen behavior indeed. Far
outside the realm of acceptable.

"What do you wish to learn?" Aragorn couldn't just take the words as
they were given; he had to pry Legolas' face from his neck and meet
his eyes.

"If you have at last decided to let me show you my love as I wish, I
will need to know why you choose this moment."

Such brilliant blue. Slightly confused, but warm and loving.

"I need to be sure you choose this for yourself and in response to my
ne- desires," Aragon finished more roughly. Did Legolas think he was
made of stone? Did he tease deliberately? Aragorn would have sworn
there was no cruelty in his lover, but for a second he doubted.

"I chose for us both," Legolas said slowly. "Long have I known what
you wish from me. I did not understand.. but today I find myself
believing understanding is not required. Simple acceptance.. is a
harder concept to grasp than casual affection."

"Do my wishes - does my wanting - does it wound you so?"

He was hard-pressed to keep his hands where they were. So much of
their time together was spent thus; in discussion and words and not
in body.

"Never," Legolas breathed. "I would blush to admit it..... but your
needs intrigue me."
"Do they?" That was a new development. Of course his lover could
still surprise him, but that he admitted it -!

A nod, hair sliding to hide face again. Aragorn brushed it aside.

"You trust me, Legolas?" he whispered into a finely pointed ear,
rewarded with a delicate shiver.

His answer was in Elvish, short and to the point. It made Aragorn
chuckle.

"Then lean close and give yourself into my hands

"Ah," Legolas gasped lightly and did as he was bid, resuming much the
same position he'd held a moment before.

Taking the moment to enjoy once again, Aragorn felt almost dizzy with
relief. That Legolas had finally agreed to this ease was a small
miracle, no matter that it would not last.

He was too much a creature of his kind to change so rapidly. Change
to Elves with the slowness of the Time allowed them.

Aragorn would make much of this opportunity. It might be the last for
months to come.

He waited until Legolas had relaxed again, the strong weight pressed
against him. With tender words and gently stroking hands he
encouraged his lover to press closer, to give his weight to Aragorn,
to release his hold on the Earth.

The tree behind them reacted to their feelings, seemingly stretching
and smoothing to cradle them. Aragorn leaned back further, still
upright but securely held by the trunk.

His hands roamed further, though still gentle and soothing. He felt
rather than heard Legolas' sigh as the Elf finally gave in
completely. His head was heavy on Aragon's shoulder, his hair a silkyloud over him. At last one hand settled between Legolas' shoulder
blades, to hold him and keep him there.

The other slipped beneath his tunic and trailed along the edge of his
waistband, sneaking under occasionally.

Legolas shivered again.

"Estel..." he whispered.

"Trust me, Legolas. Trust us."

He mouthed the side of his elf's head, the silky hair smelling of
grass and light. His hand slid deeper into the leggings, cupping a
smooth buttock and caressing it.

Legolas would never understand his mild obsession with this part of
the Elf's anatomy, and Aragorn could only explain it as 'a human
thing', but there was never any objection to what he did with it.

The firm muscle beneath smooth, cool skin.... it was the most erotic
thing he had ever touched.

Besides the rest of his Elf.

Working his fingers down the narrow crack, he felt the sudden tension
in the body he held.

"For me, Legolas," he pleaded softly, even after telling him that it
could not be so. "Trust what I do here."

"Always," Legolas whispered and the tension flowed from him as if a
switch had been thrown.


Growing up among the Elves had taught Aragorn many things.

To fight, to sing, to read, to sew, to heal.
To cook, to swim, to shoot, to ride and to love.

It had also made him access to many secrets few Men, if any others,
were privy to.

One of those was his extensive knowledge of Elven physiology. Elrond
had taught him personally, wanting the Ranger to be able to diagnose
and care for any Elf injured in his vicinity, as many Elves were able
to.

The anatomical drawings they had used had been beautiful, detailed
and exceedingly graphic.

Elrond had answered each and every question, though it was clear he'd
considered many of them superfluous.

Already a young man Then and involved with Arwen, Aragorn had
lingered over the explanations of reproductive and sexual functions.

Human anatomy had been used as well, for edification and comparison.

Learning that Elves had many of the same glands as Men had been a
surprise.

Then he made love to Legolas for the first time and discovered, to
his pleased shock, that some of those glands were far more sensitive
in Elves than Men.

One in particular.

Now, in the soft afternoon light, in the woods, he sought it with
determination. There was something he had always wanted to try.

Legolas' control was legendary and it carried into every aspect of
his life. His silent stoicism and insistent solemnity were valuable,
but dared to be broken.

Aragorn had tried, but never quite rid him of that dignity.
Today...

He would use what he knew.

His finger was dry but the passage opened to accept it as if it were
a part of the Elf. Legolas' body always recognized Aragorn and
welcomed him thus.

Two fingers entered as easily as one.

Soothing the trembling with soft kisses and a gentle hand holding him
still, Aragorn pressed deep within Legolas and sought the source of
greatest pleasure.

"Aragorn!" Legolas lifted his head and shouted. His shock was plain.

"Hush, melethron, quiet. We will attract attention if you howl so."

A dirty look, softened by the passion-dark eyes and gasping mouth.

"Aragorn -"

"Trust, Legolas." Aragorn gave a small smile, his own control
tested. "Close to me, and there."

He urged him close again, his head once more nestled to Aragorn's
shoulder, hands clenching handfuls of tunic.

Without giving him time to change his mind, Aragorn increased his
internal massage of the gland. Legolas' trembling trebled. His breath
came in harsh pants.

His hips moved, as if to rub his member on Aragorn's stomach, but
Aragorn held him so close and so tight he could not.

After a minute of this Legolas moaned, obviously fighting it back.

Aragorn pressed his head tighter to his own neck and rubbed harder.
An experiment but a challenge as well. Not something he would ever do
again, in all likelihood, but he wanted to have done it once.

Legolas shook against him like a leaf in a storm.

"Almost there, Legolas, another moment..." he murmured, wanting to
feel his lover loose his passion.

The hands in his tunic gripped tighter, rounded nails scraping skin
through the worn, soft cloth.

Bending his head to bury his face in the fall of moonsilk hair,
Aragorn pressed yet deeper, rubbing as firmly as he dared.

Legolas shuddered, hard enough that Aragorn would have dropped him if
not for the support of the tree.

"So beautiful..." he whispered, knowing Legolas did not understand
that concept any more than he did casual affection. Beauty was in
things done, not existence.

Legolas moaned more loudly now, unable to hold it in. His shudders
shook Aragorn as if they were his own.

Despite the tight hold he managed to rub himself on the Man - just
hard enough to compliment what Aragorn was doing.

Aragorn groaned at the sensation.

Then Legolas stiffened. Desperately he tried to pull away, but
Aragorn held him fiercely.

"No, Legolas! Stay with me!" he commanded.

Frightened blue eyes flashed, Then his Elf threw himself back at
Aragorn, and came, convulsing in his arms.

On the verge himself, Aragorn stroked him through it until Legolas
rested quietly against him. He smelled of Earth and seed and peace. Though Elves did not sweat, Aragorn would have sworn he could taste
it on Legolas' skin as his kissed his neck, his face.

The blond head lolled to one side, eyes closed. At peace.

"Beautiful," Aragorn chuckled.

Still holding him, he reached between them with one hand. It was a
tight fit, but he got his hand into his own trousers to touch himself.

A few stokes, staring at Legolas' calm, sated beauty, his other hand
still gripping the curve of buttock, and Aragorn came as well. It
wasn't the longest orgasm he'd ever had, but one of the most powerful.

He watched the sky darken between the boughs of the tree. He heard
voices from the camp as dinner was prepared and later beds sought.

Once or twice he thought he heard someone headed their way, but for
whatever reason they person always turned back to the others and left
them alone.

He did not speak to Legolas, nor the Elf to him.

It would take sometime for his lover to accept what they had done.
How he had responded to Aragorn's touch.

It might take him a day or two to forgive Aragorn, for pushing him so
far.

Aragorn didn't mind. They had years of conversation ahead of them and
he would have other chances to repeat this performance, should
Legolas will it.

For now, just being able to hold him in the aftermath... in the
gathering dark, on the verge of this great journey... it was more
than he had hoped for.

It was sweetness enough.

~~ fini~~

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