Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't sue. I need my last five bucks for lunch. I spent all my money on seeing LotR several times. Oh, yeah, and paying the bills. *sighs*

Warning: This story features male homosexual sex, and homo-erotic situations. If this offends you, then leave now, and don't let the doorknob catch you on the ass on the way out.

Archive: With permission only.

Notes: Okay, I'm writing the sequel by popular demand. Never say I ignore reasonable requests. I'm glad you guys liked "Comfort" so much!! Hopefully, this lives up to expectations. As I get more into the Twin Towers and Return of the King, I'll write more, until I fit Aragorn/Legolas slash throughout the whole trilogy to my satisfaction. Let me reread the trilogy first, though. Once again, this has a *lot* of movie influence, because it's been so long since I read the books. And because Viggo and Orlando make for such *nice* mental imagery. *drowns in a puddle of her own drool* Think of it as movie-verse, with book-verse for flavor and background. This sparks off a series, including "Comfort", that I'll be writing, which will fit in slash as we go along in LotR. Not all will have love scenes in them, as this and "Comfort" do. The series is named after this fic, "No Ordinary Love".

With Thanks To: I could not possibly name all the people who have given me support, feedback, and encouragement for "Comfort", be it by FF.net review, guestbook, personal email, or mailing list review without filling a page. But you know who you are, and I thank you. Since it is harder for me to respond to the FF.net reviewers, I would like to especially thank them. You are all very kind people, and I'm glad you enjoyed it. :) I fell over dead one day to discover I had over 50 reviews!! But I got better. ^_~ I hope you like the sequel, and the series just as much. Without your encouragement (and occasional death threat ^^;;) I wouldn't be writing this. So...thanks!!

No Ordinary Love

By Eruntalince

       

- Lyrics to No Ordinary Love by Sade.

       

He was not an ordinary Man.

No, there was nothing ordinary about Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Legolas knew that the moment he had met Aragorn, many, many years ago, when Aragorn's hair had no gray, nor were there as many lines on his face. Legolas knew the moment he had laid eyes on the beautiful Man that Aragorn was not ordinary, just as he had known that he was in love with Aragorn.

You will comfort him when he needs it on your quest, won't you?

Lady Arwen had asked Legolas to comfort Aragorn when he needed it. She had known...she knew that Legolas loved Aragorn. Knew of the night they shared together. And yet, it didn't seem to upset her. In fact, she seemed happy it had happened. She treated Legolas like he shared a secret with her, like he was a brother to her for loving Aragorn as well.

Legolas wanted to hate her. Desperately, he wanted to curse her name, and wish her death and worse. But...he couldn't. Not Arwen. She was too beautiful, in both soul and body. She was too kind, too loving. No matter how hard he tried, Legolas could not hate the woman who had captured the heart of the man he loved.

Perhaps it was because he loved Aragorn so much, that part of Legolas loved the Elven woman that Aragorn loved. He was jealous of her, resentful of her, but part of him loved her, because she was worthy of Aragorn's love. It was madness in Legolas' heart. Madness.

And now...now, grief and sorrow raged through his aching, bleeding heart. Gandalf was gone. It seemed the Fellowship of the Ring was breaking. They were far from their destination, far from the object of their quest. Legolas could hardly bare the pain in his heart.

He fondled the lock of hair he had cut from Aragorn's shaggy mane what seemed like years, but was only weeks ago. Now they were in Lothlorien, resting for the night. Aragorn was talking to Boromir, who seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown. And Aragorn, noble, compassionate Aragorn comforted the Man of Gondor, and gave Boromir renewed strength and faith. Aragorn had that effect on people, the ability to give them back their faith, their confidence. Legolas watched the ranger listen to Boromir's troubles, watched how Aragorn eased them some, so that Boromir could rest. Yet, Legolas knew that not even Aragorn soothe away all of Boromir's doubts.

The hobbits were huddled in their own corner, and Gimli was snoring soundly nearby. Yet Legolas did not join their slumber, instead watching Aragorn and Boromir with limpid brown eyes. Eventually, Aragorn left after clapping Boromir on the shoulder, and the other man lay down to rest.

Legolas said nothing as Aragorn passed near him, pretending to ignore the ranger. Pretending that his heart didn't skip a beat every time the dark-haired ranger passed near him. Pretending that he didn't fear for Aragorn's life more than his own every time they were in danger. Pretending that he didn't ache with need and want every moment of every day.

Pretending he wasn't in love.

Perhaps Legolas let something slip past his mask. Perhaps his eyebrow twitched. Perhaps his eyes betrayed him. But regardless of why, Aragorn paused as he walked past the beautiful Elf, and stared down at him silently.

"Are you alright, Legolas?" Aragorn asked gently in that deceptively soft voice of his. Probably in the exact same tone he just spoke to Boromir with. Offering comfort. As he thought Legolas had once done for him. If he only knew...

Legolas closed his eyes. "Gandalf is dead. The Fellowship is breaking. We are still away from Mordor and being there shall not improve matters at all. Boromir and Frodo are mentally unstable, both because of that damn ring. Me? I couldn't be better. After all, Pippin keeps trying get us killed every time he touches something. And the dwarf is snoring," he snapped. He didn't mean to sound like that. So...bitter. And resentful. Even spiteful. Where had that come from?

Aragorn crouched beside him with the grace of a cat, staring evenly at Legolas, his gray-green eyes full of concern. "Sarcasm does not become you, Legolas. Something is eating away at you...I can tell...is it the ring...?" Aragorn asked gently.

Legolas turned away. He barely even thought of the ring, in of itself. There was only once, when he had been tempted to take it. Tempted...to use it. For wouldn't Aragorn love him, if he had the One Ring? But Legolas had stopped himself, resisted taking the ring while Frodo had bathed. Because it wouldn't be real. Because Aragorn wouldn't really love him even if he had the ring. No, what ate at him was really not the ring.

"I thought you and Gimli were growing to like each other? Was I mistaken?"

Legolas still did not answer. True, Gimli was not as bad as he had thought he would be, and Gimli, despite the dwarf's blustering, was loyal and true. Someone he could be the best of friends with, given time. But Gimli was not what, not who, he truly wanted...

"Legolas. Talk to me," Aragorn whispered, his hot breath brushing gently against Legolas' ear, causing the Elf to shudder in unexpected pleasure. Legolas turned and pushed Aragorn away from him, and got up and started walking away.

Aragorn fell back on his rear, looking startled. He blinked after the Elf, but apparently not even Legolas' anger would deter him. Aragorn got up and followed the Elf.

Legolas didn't know whether to be pleased or upset that Aragorn was following him. He stopped in the middle of a field of flowers, letting Aragorn catch up to him.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Legolas asked, frustrated.

"Because you are my friend...my brother, Legolas. I care for you," Aragorn said stubbornly, crossing his arms and standing behind Legolas.

"Liar. All you care for is your precious Arwen," Legolas spat out without meaning to. He hadn't meant to sound spiteful and jealous. He started to walk away again.

Aragorn blinked in surprise, but he reached out and grabbed Legolas' slender wrist, spinning the Elf around. Legolas met Aragorn's eyes stubbornly, his face full of hurt.

"I do not understand you," Aragorn said calmly, locking gazes with Legolas.

"I wouldn't expect a mere Man to understand any Elf," Legolas spat, once again almost seeming possessed by spite.

Aragorn dropped Legolas' wrist as if burned. "I see. I am sorry you feel that way, Legolas," he said evenly, his eyes betraying his hurt. He dropped them and turned away.

"Wait...I...didn't mean that," Legolas said quietly.

Aragorn turned back, looking at Legolas evenly. He crossed his arms, his sculpted, regal face lined with hurt and concern. Legolas worked his jaw.

"What is wrong with you, Legolas? You seem to act of late as if I had some sort of disease you were afraid to catch. But then in battle, or in danger, you look at me so oddly. And now you slice me with razor-sharp words. How have I displeased you? If it was...that night...then I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...take all the pleasure. I thought that-"

"It has nothing to do with that. And everything," Legolas sighed.

Aragorn looked exasperated. "Elves are perhaps the most frustrating creatures on Middle Earth! Why must you contradict yourself in the same breath? Either it does, or does not have something to do with the night before the Council," Aragorn said, waving an arm for emphasis, his intense green eyes boring into Legolas.

"It does, but not in the way you think," Legolas said quietly, closing his eyes and then opening them. Aragorn's arms were still crossed, and his brows were furrowed.

"I thought I had pleased you. Was there something I missed?" the ranger asked in all innocence. But the question still angered Legolas.

So he turned and stalked away.

But Aragorn refused to be brushed off. He was remarkably stubborn, a trait that Legolas found endearing and irritating at the same time. Legolas reflected that Aragorn was right. He did indeed, contradict himself in the same breath. Legolas felt Aragorn catch his wrist and once again spun the Elf around to face him. Legolas seethed, glaring darkly at Aragorn for not leaving him to his misery.

A pair of Elven women passed by them, looking at both Legolas and Aragorn with mild interest. Aragorn did not release Legolas' wrist, but dropped their hands so it wasn't so obvious. He nodded and smiled to the Elven women, while Legolas barely gave them a second glance. Legolas preferred his own gender more often than not. As with most Elves, Legolas would bed either gender, but he had his preferences.

The Elven women, both lovely blondes, stepped off by a small stone pedestal nearby, and Aragorn watched in mild interest while they undressed each other, kissing passionately, heedless of their audience. Legolas made a sound of disgust and shook Aragorn's hand off, stalking away in the opposite direction of the two women.

"If you're going to watch them, fine, but leave me out of it," Legolas hissed.

Aragorn shook himself and followed Legolas. He grabbed Legolas' wrists again, but grabbed both, and forced the beautiful blond to face him. Legolas glared at him, struggling half-heartedly.

"Why do you keep running away from me?"

"Why do you keep chasing after me?"

Aragorn smirked slightly. "Wit," he intoned in his sinuous, sensual voice. "You so rarely display it of late, but then, you so rarely speak of late, unless there is something important to be said."

"How kind of you to notice. Now let me go," Legolas said darkly.

"Why? I think maybe you enjoy being chased. You're faster than me, you could have gotten away," Aragorn said, still with the subtle smirk on his sensual lips.

"I'm also stronger, Man. I could snap your wrists. Now let me go," Legolas said irritably.

"Stronger? Stronger than most Men, Elf, but not stronger than me," Aragorn said lightly, and to make his point, he gripped Legolas' wrists painfully tight. Legolas yelped slightly, then Aragorn released his wrists entirely and stepped back.

"You made your point, Elessar. I learned how callous men were three thousand years ago, when I was told of your ancestor's betrayal," Legolas hissed. The combined insult of his ancestry and the use of the name the Elves used for Aragorn made the shaggy man take a step back, as if wounded. Legolas was one of the few people Aragorn had trusted with his name, and one of the few Elves that referred to him by his birth name, and not his Elven name.

"You can be quite vicious when you want to be, Legolas," Aragorn said seriously, the play gone from his tone and face.

Legolas swallowed, his expressive eyes growing wide. He had not meant to hurt Aragorn so. Aragorn's ancestry was the Man's greatest source of pain, an eternal source of self-doubt and conviction that he was worthless, tainted, weak. Legolas knew that.

"Aragorn, I..." the Elf trailed off, feeling a drop in his stomach. Arwen had trusted him to offer comfort to Aragorn, and he had just wounded him to the quick.

Aragorn said nothing, and turned from Legolas, walking away brusquely. Now it was his turn to run away. And Legolas' turn to chase him.

Legolas grabbed the dark-haired warriors wrist, and spun Aragorn around to face him. The ranger refused to meet his eyes, and his face was shadowed in pain.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that at all. You are nothing like your ancestor," Legolas whispered earnestly.

"I shouldn't have squeezed your wrists so hard. I am sorry that I caused you pain," Aragorn said, swallowing, the movement of his Adam's apple catching Legolas' eyes. It was odd, the Adam's apple. A physical trait that all males shared, be they Hobbit, Man, Elf, or Orc.

Aragorn still had his face turned, his head bent. Legolas laid a cool finger on the other man's face, tracing his jaw line, a gentle touch that caused Aragorn to finally turn his face and meet Legolas' eyes.

"I caused you pain greater than a momentary squeeze of a wrist. I have far more to apologize for," Legolas whispered.

Aragorn grabbed the hand that was so close to his face, and pressed it wholly against his cheek, his intense, deep eyes piercing into Legolas' face. "Why are you so edgy, Legolas? You said it wasn't the ring. Are you sure that it does not affect even you?" he asked gently.

"It affects me, but not...as badly as some. I stay away from it. It's...something else. Something else bothers me. Forgive me. I am acting like I'm barely over a few centuries," said Legolas.

"What is it, Legolas? You can talk to me. You offered me your comfort, I can offer you mine. What is it that eats at you, if not the ring?"

Legolas stared wide eyed into Aragorn's face for a long while. He swallowed reflexively, and for a moment, he considered telling Aragorn.

But no, he couldn't. Aragorn did not need the guilty knowledge that Legolas was in love with him, the knowledge that Legolas pined for him. Legolas hung his head.

"I...cannot tell you," the blond beauty moaned.

Aragorn looked hurt. "You cannot trust me with your secrets, then?"

"Not with this one, Aragorn. Not with this one. You would not wish to know it, and it would only cause more pain. Leave it be," Legolas begged.

Aragorn's brows furrowed, and those eyes, eyes like a lion's staring into Legolas' face with intensity that no mere mortal should possess. His fingers brushed across the hand he held to his face, and Legolas savored the odd feel of the rough stubble of Aragorn's chin against his palm.

Aragorn licked his lips, a movement of the tongue that caught Legolas' eye, despite himself. "Would you wish for me...to help you forget...?" he asked softly, almost timidly. Aragorn was unused to intimacy, and certainly unused to intimacy with another male.

Legolas nearly burst into tears. But he didn't. He closed his eyes, preventing Aragorn from seeing the naked emotions in them. To Aragorn, taking pleasure with Legolas was an escape, a diversion. To Legolas, it was an act of love, an act of binding desire. It would only make it hurt more...but how could he refuse a chance to be with Aragorn? A chance to pretend that when Aragorn touched him, held him, that perhaps he was loved in return...

"Yes, Aragorn. I...wish for you...to help me forget..." Legolas whispered, hearing his voice break with emotion, and hoped Aragorn would dismiss it.

He could feel Aragorn's arms drawing around his slender waist, pulling him against the slightly taller Man. Could feel Aragorn's hot breath on his face. Legolas shuddered, the very sensation of being close to Aragorn enough to make him euphoric.

"I thought...I had displeased you somehow. You were acting so cold to me," Aragorn breathed, reaching up to stroke Legolas' beautiful face.

"I am sorry. I was taking my emotions out on you," Legolas responded, soaking up the touch, feeling Aragorn's gloved hands run across his face and long, blond hair. His heart ached. Why did Aragorn have to act like he cared? It would be so much less painful if Aragorn stopped acting so compassionate.

"We have long been brothers, Legolas. You can talk to me...you can come to me, when you are hurting," Aragorn whispered, and pulled on Legolas' waist, leading him towards a cluster of the smaller trees.

It only made it worse. Legolas thought his heart was going to burst. He left his eyes closed, trying to control his expressions, trying not to reveal the pain he felt. Aragorn's friendship was like standing beside the forbidden fruit. How close it was. You could reach out and touch it, but never could you taste it.

Aragorn paused, once again pressing Legolas against him, his breath blowing softly against Legolas' cheek. "How is it that you can be as lovely as any woman, and yet remain a man? Some of your brethren, by human standards at least, appear like women to me. But you...you are as fair as any Elf maiden I have set on eyes on, and more seductive even, yet not once was your gender in doubt," Aragorn mused out loud, then placed his lips on Legolas' chin, nibbling softly.

"That is a question I cannot answer, Aragorn, because I cannot control how I look any more than you can," Legolas shrugged, daring to open his eyes, his body flushing as Aragorn kissed his chin.

He was mildly startled to note that Aragorn's bedroll and belongings were already in the private clearing, as well as a bottle of feywine, and two goblets. Legolas' brows furrowed, and he pushed Aragorn away.

"You...planned this...?" Legolas asked irritably.

Aragorn actually blushed slightly, an almost boyish grin spreading across his rugged face. "I thought...you would...I didn't expect you to be so...upset earlier. I'm sorry...I just thought..." Aragorn trailed off, and Legolas suddenly realized Aragorn was mildly embarrassed.

Legolas turned his face, part of him wanting to laugh at Aragorn's almost adolescent antics, the other part of him wanting to cry because none of it was real. Aragorn sighed after a while of silence and stillness.

"I was being presumptuous. My apologies. I guess I don't understand you as well as I thought. You are a very self-contradicting Elf, Legolas. Your moods seem to shift as quickly as the wind. But this entire trip, you have been unusually serious, even given our mission. I think the only person who has been able to bring out your fey side is Gimli," said Aragorn.

"Gimli does not allow me to dwell on pain."

"And I...do let you dwell on your pain, while you smooth mine away."

Legolas turned back to look into Aragorn's face. "No, Aragorn. You...you make me feel alive. You always had that ability, ever since I first met you. Your smiles and jokes are fewer and more hard won, but well worth the wait. Your compassion and nobility touches me in ways you cannot comprehend. Do not ever think you cause me pain. I cause myself pain," he said gently.

Aragorn blinked and bowed his head, looking uncomfortable to be receiving such compliments.

"You were not being presumptuous. I accepted, did I not?" Legolas asked, smiling slightly. If nothing else, he knew he had Aragorn's desire. Love for Arwen, lust for Legolas. The Elven archer tried to summon up hate for Arwen, but he could not. Instead, he felt a little guilty for once again taking a night with her betrothed, while she had never once felt Aragorn's touch.

"You did," Aragorn smiled. "Though I will never understand why..."

"Why not?" Legolas.

"Why you would find a Man attractive, much less one such as I. We humans may not be as fair as Elves, but there are far more beautiful examples to catch your eye," Aragorn shook his head.

"I think you are beautiful," Legolas said honestly. To Legolas, Aragorn was like a diamond. Roughly hewn, but no less beautiful.

"You flatter me, Prince of Mirkwood. I think you just like the novelty of being with a human."

"Is that what you think I perceive of you...?" Legolas asked, blinking in surprise. What a shallow view Aragorn thought Legolas had of him.

"When we dally past the edge of friendship? Yes," Aragorn shrugged, but before Legolas could form a response, Aragorn pulled the lithe Elf to him, placing a firm kiss on the other's lips.

Legolas closed his eyes, wondering if it was indeed better to let Aragorn believe what he believed. He debated this in his mind as he opened his mouth ever so slightly, allowing Aragorn's tongue entrance to his mouth. The ranger tasted of the tobacco he smoked, and of the sweet meats he had eaten for dinner.

Legolas went limp against Aragorn's body, allowing the stockier man to pull him down to the bedroll. The ranger quickly stripped him, breaking their kiss to admire Legolas' beauty. He ran his gloved hands across the smooth chest, and Legolas smiled. It was so easy to pretend that this was more than a mere diversion, a mere desire for physical pleasure. It was easy to lose himself in the act.

"So beautiful..." Aragorn whispered, thinking Legolas had completely submitted to him, and bent down to kiss the archer on the lips.

And promptly found himself lying on his back, being divested of his clothing. Aragorn blinked in surprise. It was easy to forget how strong Legolas really was, given his slim build. Elves, by their very nature were stronger and faster than a human. Aragorn, despite being human, but for the distant Elven ancestor, was both stronger and faster than most humans, and even most Elves, due to his ancestry and training. And while Aragorn was perhaps stronger than Legolas, he could never match the archer in speed.

Legolas smirked slightly, seeing the mildly startled expression on Aragorn's face. He leaned down and kissed the ranger he was quickly disrobing, feeling along the lines of Aragorn's muscles. The more prominent muscles of human men never ceased to fascinate Legolas, who like all Elves was of a slender build.

Aragorn kissed back, wrapping his arms around Legolas, pressing their naked flesh together. Aragorn kissed Legolas deeply, pulling on the blond's bottom lip with his teeth for just a moment before withdrawing completely.

"I'd hate to think the feywine I stole is going to waste," Aragorn whispered. "I want to forget about Moria, and about losing Gandalf..."

Legolas sat up, straddling Strider's hips, somber now. He solemnly leaned over and grabbed the bottle of feywine and poured himself and Aragorn a glass into the goblets. Aragorn sat up as he took the drink, sliding Legolas down to rest comfortably on his lap.

"To Mithrandir," Legolas said, holding out his cup.

"To Mithrandir," Aragorn nodded, clinking his cup against Legolas'.

They drank the feywine at the same moment, their eyes gazing into each other's. Aragorn blinked, his eyes glazing over slightly. Feywine was normal wine for an Elf, but for a human, it was practically a narcotic. Aragorn's distant fey ancestry protected him from some of the more dramatic side effects, but it would give him a very strong, pleasant sensation. And allow him to indeed, forget, for the night at least, about Moria and Gandalf.

Legolas took another sip, but he broke Aragorn's gaze. Gandalf's loss. Another blow for Aragorn, more pain added to his own. For now the leadership of the group would fall on him, and no other. Responsibility Aragorn did not want. But would take. His reason for seeking Legolas tonight, of all nights, became crystal clear to the Elf. Aragorn wished for his comfort. It stung Legolas, but he tried to hide it.

Legolas gasped when he felt Aragorn's lips press against his left ear, Aragorn's tongue deftly flicking out to lick the gentle point. He shuddered as Aragorn lapped at his ear, exploiting it to good effect. Elven ears were highly sensitive, an erogenous zone that was dull to humans. A nasty little voice in the back of Legolas' head whispered that this trick of pleasuring Elves that Aragorn had learned from Legolas would no doubt be used on Arwen in the future. He tried not to think about it.

Thinking itself soon became a chore when Aragorn's hand stroked his right ear, while he licked and nibbled the left. Legolas arched and wriggled on Aragorn's lap, his goblet tilting in his hand, causing some of the feywine to spill on Aragorn's chest. The movement of Legolas' hips brushed his arousal against Aragorn's sending even more pleasurable sensations to burn through his body.

Aragorn sighed appreciatively into Legolas' ear, then sucked gently on the point of Legolas' ear. Legolas free hand gripped Aragorn's shoulder, while the hand that still held the goblet of feywine pressed against Aragorn's chest. An odd, almost cat-like mewling noise emitted from Legolas' full lips, and he lost all cognitive thought as Aragorn manipulated his body like Legolas was a marionette on a string.

"Iluvatar..." Legolas whispered, as Aragorn shifted their hips again, purposefully brushing their erections against each other. This was unfair. For someone under a century old, with little experience, Aragorn was far too good at this sort of thing. Legolas' eyelashes fluttered in ecstasy, but he didn't want to once again give in and completely submit to the Man's touch, and not show Aragorn true bliss.

So Legolas squirmed away from Aragorn's lips and fingers, using his free hand to shove Aragorn back down on the bedroll. Aragorn fell back in surprise, staring up at Legolas in shock. Legolas said nothing and merely poured some the contents of his goblet on Aragorn's chest. A tiny rivulet of feywine poured between Aragorn's pectorals, and pooled in the hollow of his throat. Aragorn watched Legolas with intense green eyes, unmoving, a sensual, expectant smile playing about his lips.

Legolas leaned down and snaked his tongue out to lap at the liquid pooling at Aragorn's throat. Aragorn sighed, and Legolas began to lick his way down Aragorn's chest, lapping up liquid as he went, brushing his tongue gently on Aragorn's brown nipples. Aragorn moaned, reaching up to run his hands through Legolas' hair, undoing the clasp that pulled it back, causing the Elf’s hair to spill across Aragorn's chest.

Legolas lifted his head and smiled the fey, secretive smile Aragorn had not seen on his face in a long while. Legolas picked up his goblet again, feigning disinterest for Aragorn as he delicately sipped at the remaining feywine.

Aragorn grunted and half sat up, finding his own goblet and taking another sip. "Tease," he frowned at Legolas.

Legolas nonchalantly pushed Aragorn back down, causing Aragorn to spill some feywine on his face. Legolas then leaned down and gently kissed the sweet liquid off of Aragorn's cheeks. Aragorn moved his face to kiss Legolas' lips, his stubble brushing roughly against the other's smooth skin.

"You are a tease," Aragorn whispered against Legolas' face. Legolas just smiled and sat up. He tiled his goblet over Aragorn's stomach, pouring the feywine onto the other's man flesh and moving down to splash feywine on the ranger's abdomen, and ended by pouring the remainder on Aragorn's aching member.

The ranger gasped a little, squirming when the liquid hit his arousal. But then Legolas bent over and kissed Aragorn's stomach, lapping at the liquid again. He elicited a gasp from his human lover when he drank from Aragorn's navel. Legolas moved ever downward, seeking every last droplet of feywine with his tongue, letting himself admire the firm bronze skin of the man known as Strider.

Aragorn's breathing hitched in anticipation of Legolas' actions, becoming audible as Legolas kissed away the feywine from his abdomen, brushing ever downward. And just when it seemed Legolas would finally break the barrier of the dark curls framing Aragorn‘s crowning glory, the Elf sat up and poured himself another glass of feywine.

"Legolas," Aragorn snapped, sounding commanding, his noble face set in a deeply irritated scowl.

Legolas smiled, and took a sip from his goblet. "Yes, Aragorn?" he asked conversationally, his voice taking on a musical timbre in his amusement.

Aragorn groaned, laying his head back. "I should know better. You Elves are all teases. They call you fey for a reason..." he sighed.

"Do they now?" Legolas arched a dark eyebrow.

"Hmph," Aragorn said, looking highly annoyed.

Legolas set his goblet aside, and with his customary speed, slid down and placed a slow kiss on the tip of Aragorn's arousal. Aragorn practically leapt from his skin, crying out in pleasure. Legolas snaked out a tongue, lapping at the beaded moisture on the tip, teasing Aragorn's slit gently. The dark-haired man cried out repeatedly in ecstasy, his strong hands winding through Legolas' hair, tugging gently.

Aragorn's cries of pleasure grew louder when Legolas took his length whole into his mouth, sucking gently. Surely everyone in Lothlorien knew what they were doing by now. Legolas wondered impishly as he increased his suction, if they would wake the ethereal and implacable Galadriel.

Legolas tasted Aragorn on his tongue, felt the Man's body tense underneath him, listened to Aragorn's cries grow louder and huskier. Aragorn bucked once, then fell back, releasing himself with a great shout. Legolas drank him down, not pausing his ministrations until Aragorn was satiated. To give pleasure to Aragorn was as great a satisfaction as receiving it.

Legolas bent over Aragorn, staring down at him with a fond smile. Aragorn's eyes were closed, his body flushed, and a sheen of sweat on his brow glistened in the soft moonlight. It nearly broke Legolas' heart to see Aragorn so. And then Aragorn opened his gray-green eyes, staring intently into Legolas, as if he wanted to see the Elf's soul.

Aragorn slowly reached up and ran his fingers through Legolas' long hair, bringing a lock to his face, rubbing it across his cheek. Without saying a word, he brought Legolas closer for a tender kiss, holding the Elf tightly. The display of affection made Legolas' heart bleed. It was so easy to pretend Aragorn loved him when he did things like this.

Legolas suddenly wanted to tell Aragorn, to blurt out his feelings. To confess his love, the love he held for Aragorn for a very long time. But he paused, frightened. He knew, he knew he would be rejected, gently, but rejected still. He could not bear it. No, he could not tell Aragorn, no matter how much he wanted to.

Aragorn reached up and stroked Legolas' ears, distracting Legolas from his inner turmoil. Legolas moaned softly, feeling Aragorn place a hand about Legolas' length, tightly gripping the organ. Aragorn's lips were on his unattended ear, sending thrills of pleasure up and down his spine.

"You didn't let me finish what I had started, Prince of Mirkwood. Not that I'm complaining...that was the most exquisite thing I ever felt," Aragorn whispered, then snaked his tongue back out to lick the curves and form of Legolas' ear, making the blond beauty shudder in his arms.

Aragorn's hand moved vigorously, forming a tight tunnel around Legolas' arousal. The elf mewled loudly, this time letting Aragorn sweep him away in pleasure. The pleasure of Aragorn's lips and tongue on his ear joined the thrill of the firm stroking Aragorn gave his throbbing member. He arched against Aragorn, his lips slightly parted, his eyes tightly shut as he was lost in a haze of pleasure.

The bliss soon overtook him, and Legolas lost all sense of time and self as he came, his only thought was the man he loved was pleasuring him with unbelievable skill. He opened his eyes to find himself resting against Aragorn, lying snugly in the ranger's bedroll, blankets covering them. Their arms were wrapped around each other, their legs entwined.

"You will...spend the night with me...won't you...?" Aragorn asked, sounding almost like a child.

Legolas smiled sadly. "Nothing would make me happier," he whispered, wishing, desperately wishing Aragorn could be his and no other's. Wishing that Aragorn and Arwen had never met.

Aragorn smiled, looking contented, and held Legolas closer to him, staring into his eyes. Legolas soon became lost in the green depths, his love for Aragorn bursting inside his heart. But again, he kept his feelings to himself. He did not want Aragorn's pity.

They both fell asleep staring into each other's eyes.

       

Aragorn woke before Legolas, gently disengaging himself from the slim form and dressing. He stared down at the blond beauty fondly, a smile playing across his lips.

He knelt down beside Legolas' sleeping form, running a hand over Legolas' long blond hair, admiring its silky texture. Legolas almost seemed to purr, moving unconsciously against Aragorn's hand, nuzzling against the ranger's palm. Aragorn bent over and placed a kiss on Legolas' soft cheek and withdrew, leaving the Elf to his dreams.

He felt an odd stirring in his heart for Legolas, and a sense of guilt. He was allowing himself to dally with Legolas, when he had promised himself to Arwen. He was being weak and foolish. He had sworn to die for Arwen, and yet, he found that the thought of another night of comfort from Legolas had helped him through the Mines of Moria as much as the thought of Arwen had. It was odd, this feeling he felt for Legolas.

He cursed himself. Not only was he now unfaithful to Arwen, but now he was letting himself get emotionally involved with a fey creature like Legolas. Legolas surely thought of him as nothing more than a novelty, another notch in his belt. An experience Legolas would soon tire of, and he would soon wish to remain mere friends with Aragorn. Aragorn felt not only callous, but foolish as well.

But there was a strength Aragorn drew from Legolas, a strength as strong as the one he drew from Arwen. A comfort, an absolution. A spark of fire. There was no submission, there was only an equal. Someone he could relate to in all things, not just some...

Foolishness.

It was just the long, weary trail of sorrow. That was all. He was merely thinking this way because he had not seen Arwen in so long, and Legolas was a convenient companion. That was all. That's what it had to be. This was merely a new aspect of his friendship with Legolas, and one that wouldn't last long. It was nothing, it meant nothing. To either of them.

It is said that you cannot sleep with a person more than once and not emotionally involve yourself, no matter how much or how little. Aragorn collected his belongings, and walked away from his lover, denying to himself that was what Legolas had become to him.

Nothing about either of them was ordinary. Not even their love for each other.

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