Author's Note: *The one that started it all : )
Release From Obligations
They would not let him rest -- the thoughts, the grief. How fitting that his kind, the Elves, should be able to appreciate the beauty and wonder of life to an extent none others could yet must suffer its pain and ugliness so consumingly. Legolas turned restlessly in his bedroll. The loss of Gandalf, such a bright, comforting strength amidst such horrors was nearly too much for the Elf to bear.
Silently, he slipped from beneath his blanket and left the others asleep. Perhaps, he thought despairingly, he could find comfort in the physical...
With his bow and quiver slung over his shoulder Legolas picked his way quietly between the trees until he found a clearing that would suit his needs. Finding a reasonable target several yards away, he took a calming breath and let fly the first of his arrows.
Notch, pull, release. Notch, pull, release. The repetition eased his soul, filtered out all thoughts of death and responsibility. He could almost forget how important his role. Almost... So sharp was his concentration that his normally acute senses failed to hear the approach of another.
"So foregoing rest is how the Prince of Mirkwood becomes the best archer in the land."
Legolas took an involuntary breath, lowering his bow as Aragorn stepped from the shadow of trees. The Man looked weary, furrows lining his face. Yet the ranger regarded him with an amused smile, noting the startlement on the prince's face.
"Trying to shoot orcs, are we?" Aragorn cocked his head. "Real or personal, I wonder?"
Legolas looked away from the searching gaze, unnerved by the intrusion. "I am merely assuring the continued good health of my fellows," he replied quietly. "The surety of my aim may be the difference between success and failure."
Aragorn entered the clearing. "You feel the weight of the Fellowship on your shoulders. 'Tis all of ours to bear and yet you take it most personally," he murmured. He raised a scarred hand to stroke back a length of pale hair. "Proud Elf--must everything rely on you?"
A quick retort flew to Legolas'lips, but whithered there as the hand in his hair suddenly tightened, jerking his head up.
"Must you be in control of everything?" Aragorn demanded with unexpected violence. He brought their faces together. His eyes roamed the curves of Legolas' face. "At times it helps to surrender yourself --"
"I cannot!" Legolas hissed, every muscle in his body singing tight with tension.
"Cannot?--" Aragorn bent his head to lick at the exposed pale throat "--or will not?"
Legolas shuddered as the wet tongue laved his sensitive skin, nipping lightly at the cords of his throat. "None shall fall," he managed to gasp out as the Man sucked at his earlobe, "because of me."
Angered, Aragorn raised his head and stared down into the anguish-filled brown eyes. "Who lives and who dies on this quest is beyond your means to choose. Fate is not yours to control, my proud Elf." Ignoring the gasp of denial, Aragorn crushed their bodies together. "And neither shall this night be." With that he slammed their mouths together.
Legolas resisted the unexpected intimacy, sealing his lips against the hot tongue that sought to open him. But Aragorn's fist in his hair would not allow him to pull away, and when a wandering hand stroked up his chest to graze a nipple, Legolas gasped. It was all the opening Aragorn needed. Legolas found his mouth plundered by the searching tongue, every inch invaded. His breath was stolen, replaced by another's. Fingers pinched his nipple through his tunic and he whimpered, the sound swallowed before it ever reached air.
"That's it," Aragorn rasped, breaking away to bite at the smooth jaw. "Let yourself go, Legolas. Let me hear you."
"I can't --"
Muscled hands released their grip on him only to firmly grasp his buttocks and grind hips together. The steel in Aragorn's breeches found its mate in the Elf's tightly fitting leggings. The ranger groaned as he rubbed their erections together, his hot breath moistening the Elf's ear.
"Give me what I want, Legolas," he whispered, pumping his hips into answering heat.
Legolas bit his lip, pain and ecstasy warring across his beautiful features. His slender fingers reached for the bristle of Aragorn's jaw but the Man jerked his head out of reach.
"You do nothing," Aragorn commanded, his fingers clenching hard enough to bruise in the muscles of the Elf's buttocks. " *I* am in control here."
Fire flashed in Legolas' eyes but Aragorn gave him no chance to protest. He hooked a leg behind the Elf's and shoved backwards so that they fell heavily to the forest floor, Legolas trapped beneath the ranger. The Elf struggled, his considerable strength well matched in the larger Man. Panting breaths mingled in the night air as they fought for dominance. A small cry of frustration pierced the air as Legolas found his wrists slammed to the soft earth on either side of his head.
Defiance glared up at Aragorn. The Man merely chuckled. "I told you, Legolas. This night you have no control over anything that happens. Tonight, *I* shall carry the burden of --" he ground his hips down, eliciting a strangled gasp from the Elf "--fulfillment."
Aragorn's head swooped down and his mouth covered Legolas', dominating the kiss. Against his will, Legolas whimpered against the Man's lips. His traitorous hips lifted, seeking relief. Aragorn pulled the Elf's hands above his head and transferred them to one grip. Watching Legolas intently, Aragorn drew his free hand down the heaving body beneath him, gauging responses.
Legolas' face heated as Aragorn touched and stroked, teased and pinched, all the while watching how he reacted. The steel gray eyes missed nothing, to Legolas' shame. When thick fingers grasped the top of his leggings and jerked them down to reveal his straining erection, Legolas shut his eyes. Immediately, a hand grabbed his chin, making him open his eyes.
"Keep them open!" Aragorn growled. "Show me everything, my proud Elf. I would see everything you feel. Everything you desire." The hand left his chin to encircle the heated flesh. Legolas' eyelids fluttered, sweat sheening his forehead. "Yes," Aragorn murmured, stroking his hand slowly up and down. "Feel this, Legolas. Enjoy this."
Legolas moaned as fingers swirled around the tip of his erection, spreading the milky fluid over its length. The stroking intensified, harder, faster until Legolas' hips were bucking into the Man's hands, his voice breaking on a cry.
Aragorn released him, ignoring his frustrated moan and moved atop him. The Man made quick work of lowering his breeches before settling with a rough groan between Legolas' thighs. A thick fingertip prodded between his buttocks and Legolas' instinctively tried to pull away. Aragorn released his hands and seized the Elf's hips tightly, holding him still.
"You will not deny me," the ranger rasped, fingering the opening again, "nor do I think you want me to."
Legolas found he could not refute this as one calloused finger slid slowly inside his body, curled slightly to rub at a spot that made him moan unashamedly. Another finger joined the first, then another, until Legolas found himself ready to burst, his head thrashing on the ground. The fingers withdrew. A hand seized his jaw holding him still. Aragorn looked down on him, his sweat-slicked features almost angry in their intensity. "I would have you look at me as I take you."
Legolas groaned at the words, his cock burning painfully against his stomach.
With his hand at the Elf's throat, Aragorn pushed his cock against the tight opening, slowly shoving himself into Legolas' heat. He watched as Legolas' eyes glazed over in pleasure as the stiff cock filled him completely. Color broke out across the high Elven cheekbones as a twitch of Aragorn's hips brought his cock into contact with a pleasure spot.
"Ai, please --"
Aragorn grinned as he pulled back then thrust forward hard, forcing a sob past the Elf's lips. Pistoning his hips, he developed a brutal, driving rhythm that left them both gasping.
Legolas bit his lip enough to draw blood when a sword-calloused hand wrapped around his aching erection and began to pump in time to the cock that was slamming into him. He no longer cared about the sounds that broke from his lips, no longer cared that Aragorn watched him with triumph on his face. Legolas gave himself up to the moment, and no longer cared about the Fellowship or Gandalf or what new tragedy awaited him on the morn. For this one night, he was responsible for nothing. With a cry seemingly torn from a place too long guarded, Legolas released his seed over Aragorn's fist. A thrust, two, and the ranger's explosion followed.
Withdrawing carefully, Aragorn collapsed beside his friend onto the moist earth. His roughened fingertips were gentle on the Elf's face as he looked upon him. "'Tis not so bad to surrender, is it?" he asked softly, his earlier harshness vanished as though it had never been. Legolas caught his hand and kissed the scarred palm. "No," he murmured, his heart lightened at last. "'Tis not so bad at all."
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