A/N: This is after Helms Deep, Haldir lived, and Galadriel (through her
gift of sight) believes that the two hobbits in Mordor are well, so the
rest of the fellowship are ok, for now. This starts a bit backward in that
it starts with meaningless sex and then dissolves into a plot! Beware! Oh
yeah and review!
Chapter 1
'Rest' she had said. Helms Deep had held, Isenguard had fallen. Sam and Frodo were well. The ring laid in their hands now, there was nothing more they could do. 'Rest' she said, and that is what they did. The two lovers left the Lady of Light and found a beautiful clearing and lay upon the ground to try and rest. Peace, hope washing over them. They could relax if only for a little while, until they were needed again.
That was the first image the dark ones saw.
Aragorn gazed over lovingly to the elf who had thrown himself to the ground in complete abandon. His ran his fingers against a cheek, then trying a new tack, ran his hand suggestively up the inside thigh in order to get some attention. A fan of gold splayed out over the grass, ocean blue eyes rose to meet his own, lips curving into a warm smile.
"You are beautiful nin meleth."
"So some say."
"Nay, it is true, do you not see the glances, the looks you get when you are seen, even here in the Golden Forest."
"You are foolish, but pray do such looks trouble you?"
"A little, I am a creature of jealousy, and no-one but I shall have my elf." The King of men coiled his arm around Legolas' waist and then rolled back, pulling the beauty onto him. The elf laughed.
"Have no fear," he whispered, lips nearly meeting lips, "I am yours and yours alone beloved." Then lips met. Not yet passionate but tender, tongues swirled and lips were pressed together. But such reverence could not last for long.
This was a couple of great passion who burned for each other, for their touch. They completed each other, a perfect balance. Long, sleek gold met shorter, rugged black, and pale, smooth ivory met dark, scarred tan. Even now in the throws of passion, it was near impossible to see where one being ended and where another began.
The two locked lips refusing to lose the contact, they seemed to roll to some unknown location. Constantly grappling for power yet still happy to concede. They finally settled in a satisfactory position, Legolas sprawled tantalisingly over the leaves, the man looming over him possessively lapping at his neck. A series of delicious moans spilled from Legolas' mouth slowly unravelling Aragorn's tried patience.
The heir to Gondor took control, viciously untying his lover's tunic only then to decide this form of removal was not first enough and he tore the article clean in half, ripping at the seam and throwing it blindly away. The tunic's owner could not have raised an objection if he wanted to; he was too busy trying to remove the clothing of the one above and managed to finally do so without destroying them.
But this was one elf who should never be underestimated. After revealing Aragorn's bare chest, instead of laying back as the man would have liked, he immediately trailed his hands down the body and made a similar attack upon the leggings he encountered there. Using one hand to unfasten the garment, he slipped the other inside them. The man was now completely under his control and the elf smiled as if he caught his prey. The man writhed, moaning in pleasure, his hands leaving his lover in order to steady himself. Legolas took advantage of the promising situation, sliding the leggings and himself downwards, letting Aragorn feel his mouth.
The cry the man let out was enough to alert the Lady wherever she resided, as well as most of the forest. Hands flews instinctively to golden silk, clutching at great handfuls in order to stop this wonderful sensation from ending. But it did end, just as Aragorn with on the brink, the mouth pulled away. Aragorn knew why, but could not prevent a small whimper. Legolas brought his face level once again and kissed him sweetly, murmuring.
Showing a shameless lack of control, Islidur's heir forced Legolas flat against the forest floor using his own body weight. He positioned himself and wrapped the ivory legs around his waist.
The trees sang as the two made love, a well-rehearsed, yet invitingly fresh dance of passion. The forest was proud to house it, and looked over the two as they reached their completion. They remained still for quite some time, pressed together until Legolas reached to what was left of his tunic and eyed it incredulously.
"And how sweet one, am I going to explain this? Could you not have been slightly more careful, or I daresay, patient?"
"When it comes to you, patience is not within me. Could you not say you caught it on a branch?"
"And then proceeded to completely destroy it, ripping it into two clean halves."
"No then, why does it trouble you so? Gimli knows about us, as do Gandalf and the hobbits, I am sure the Lady would not mind. . . ."
"It is not that, what will the other elves here think of me walking around bare-chested?"
"They better not be thinking anything. Perhaps it is one elf in particular that concerns you?" The man teased.
"Aragorn, I have told you before, Rumil is completely harmless, his intentions are nothing but honourable."
"He did not look honourable earlier as he helped you from that tree."
"Well, perhaps he is smitten, but you need not worry. As I have told you, I only have eyes for you."
"As you should, but I still don't trust him."
"You wouldn't"
"And what is that supposed to mean!"
"You know exactly what it means."
There was a long, contented silence. The two had long since dressed, or had tried to.
Aragorn kissed greedily at a delicate pointed ear. "Ahh Legolas, what would I do without you?"
"Who knows," came the reply.
A rustling sounded in the trees and a blond figure appeared.
"Rumil!" Legolas clambered off the man with much dignity as he could.
"Legolas, I have been looking for you, uhhh. . . . .what happened to your tunic?"
A answer came from the ground. "An unfortunate accident." Aragorn rose to his feet and stood between the elves in a blatant gesture of possession.
Rumil gallantly offered the other elf he tunic he himself wore, but the offer was flatly refused.
"The Lady wishes to speak to you before you retire."
"Well we shall be sure to go and see her, thank you Rumil." The elf seemed painfully aware that the man was dismissing him. With a nervous and unnecessary half bow Rumil near ran back into the trees.
"Aragorn! You are cruel." The prince stifled a chuckle.
"Cruel! Did you not see his lusty gaze!"
"Lusty gaze?! He looked like a deer caught in crossfire!"
The man laughed.
"Come, let us return to the others."
The two figures hand-in-hand dissolved slowly into a grey mist.
*************************
"Your power over the Palantir grows Lord, you can look over the whole of this land, no-one will suspect." The dark one whispered filled with malicious glee.
"Alas, I am denied the view of the depths of Mordor, Sauron's power is too great."
"But Master, do you not see? We have found his weakness. We can destroy him, toy with him. Bring down the man and you bring down Middle Earth, the tiny hobbits are simple enough to eliminate. It will be yours for the taking. Did you see his love, his jealousy, he cannot live without the elf."
"Indeed, you may be right, let us move quickly."
"Very good Saruman, I shall send out forces to kill the elf."
"Halt Grima! This man is responsible for the destruction of all I have worked for, for the battle of Helms Deep, let us play, I wish to have some fun."
"Play?"
"Yes, Grima hold still." The wizard raised his staff, a blinding light flew from it, engulfing Wormtongue.
The white skin darkened slightly, rank black hair lengthened, softened, untangled and was bleached a shade of gold. Grima grew a few inches, his features softened, eyes lightened and his rags replaced with the finest elven leather.
"Good." Saruman nodded. "The man knew not what he would do without the elf, I think it's time we found out. Go!"
The other figure turned and left.
Where the gruesome, slimy figure of Grima Wormtongue had walked in, Legolas Greenleaf, beautiful Prince of Mirkwood walked out.
A/N: Oh dear. I'll try and update weekly if I can, so more soon! Please, please review.
Chapter 1
'Rest' she had said. Helms Deep had held, Isenguard had fallen. Sam and Frodo were well. The ring laid in their hands now, there was nothing more they could do. 'Rest' she said, and that is what they did. The two lovers left the Lady of Light and found a beautiful clearing and lay upon the ground to try and rest. Peace, hope washing over them. They could relax if only for a little while, until they were needed again.
That was the first image the dark ones saw.
Aragorn gazed over lovingly to the elf who had thrown himself to the ground in complete abandon. His ran his fingers against a cheek, then trying a new tack, ran his hand suggestively up the inside thigh in order to get some attention. A fan of gold splayed out over the grass, ocean blue eyes rose to meet his own, lips curving into a warm smile.
"You are beautiful nin meleth."
"So some say."
"Nay, it is true, do you not see the glances, the looks you get when you are seen, even here in the Golden Forest."
"You are foolish, but pray do such looks trouble you?"
"A little, I am a creature of jealousy, and no-one but I shall have my elf." The King of men coiled his arm around Legolas' waist and then rolled back, pulling the beauty onto him. The elf laughed.
"Have no fear," he whispered, lips nearly meeting lips, "I am yours and yours alone beloved." Then lips met. Not yet passionate but tender, tongues swirled and lips were pressed together. But such reverence could not last for long.
This was a couple of great passion who burned for each other, for their touch. They completed each other, a perfect balance. Long, sleek gold met shorter, rugged black, and pale, smooth ivory met dark, scarred tan. Even now in the throws of passion, it was near impossible to see where one being ended and where another began.
The two locked lips refusing to lose the contact, they seemed to roll to some unknown location. Constantly grappling for power yet still happy to concede. They finally settled in a satisfactory position, Legolas sprawled tantalisingly over the leaves, the man looming over him possessively lapping at his neck. A series of delicious moans spilled from Legolas' mouth slowly unravelling Aragorn's tried patience.
The heir to Gondor took control, viciously untying his lover's tunic only then to decide this form of removal was not first enough and he tore the article clean in half, ripping at the seam and throwing it blindly away. The tunic's owner could not have raised an objection if he wanted to; he was too busy trying to remove the clothing of the one above and managed to finally do so without destroying them.
But this was one elf who should never be underestimated. After revealing Aragorn's bare chest, instead of laying back as the man would have liked, he immediately trailed his hands down the body and made a similar attack upon the leggings he encountered there. Using one hand to unfasten the garment, he slipped the other inside them. The man was now completely under his control and the elf smiled as if he caught his prey. The man writhed, moaning in pleasure, his hands leaving his lover in order to steady himself. Legolas took advantage of the promising situation, sliding the leggings and himself downwards, letting Aragorn feel his mouth.
The cry the man let out was enough to alert the Lady wherever she resided, as well as most of the forest. Hands flews instinctively to golden silk, clutching at great handfuls in order to stop this wonderful sensation from ending. But it did end, just as Aragorn with on the brink, the mouth pulled away. Aragorn knew why, but could not prevent a small whimper. Legolas brought his face level once again and kissed him sweetly, murmuring.
Showing a shameless lack of control, Islidur's heir forced Legolas flat against the forest floor using his own body weight. He positioned himself and wrapped the ivory legs around his waist.
The trees sang as the two made love, a well-rehearsed, yet invitingly fresh dance of passion. The forest was proud to house it, and looked over the two as they reached their completion. They remained still for quite some time, pressed together until Legolas reached to what was left of his tunic and eyed it incredulously.
"And how sweet one, am I going to explain this? Could you not have been slightly more careful, or I daresay, patient?"
"When it comes to you, patience is not within me. Could you not say you caught it on a branch?"
"And then proceeded to completely destroy it, ripping it into two clean halves."
"No then, why does it trouble you so? Gimli knows about us, as do Gandalf and the hobbits, I am sure the Lady would not mind. . . ."
"It is not that, what will the other elves here think of me walking around bare-chested?"
"They better not be thinking anything. Perhaps it is one elf in particular that concerns you?" The man teased.
"Aragorn, I have told you before, Rumil is completely harmless, his intentions are nothing but honourable."
"He did not look honourable earlier as he helped you from that tree."
"Well, perhaps he is smitten, but you need not worry. As I have told you, I only have eyes for you."
"As you should, but I still don't trust him."
"You wouldn't"
"And what is that supposed to mean!"
"You know exactly what it means."
There was a long, contented silence. The two had long since dressed, or had tried to.
Aragorn kissed greedily at a delicate pointed ear. "Ahh Legolas, what would I do without you?"
"Who knows," came the reply.
A rustling sounded in the trees and a blond figure appeared.
"Rumil!" Legolas clambered off the man with much dignity as he could.
"Legolas, I have been looking for you, uhhh. . . . .what happened to your tunic?"
A answer came from the ground. "An unfortunate accident." Aragorn rose to his feet and stood between the elves in a blatant gesture of possession.
Rumil gallantly offered the other elf he tunic he himself wore, but the offer was flatly refused.
"The Lady wishes to speak to you before you retire."
"Well we shall be sure to go and see her, thank you Rumil." The elf seemed painfully aware that the man was dismissing him. With a nervous and unnecessary half bow Rumil near ran back into the trees.
"Aragorn! You are cruel." The prince stifled a chuckle.
"Cruel! Did you not see his lusty gaze!"
"Lusty gaze?! He looked like a deer caught in crossfire!"
The man laughed.
"Come, let us return to the others."
The two figures hand-in-hand dissolved slowly into a grey mist.
*************************
"Your power over the Palantir grows Lord, you can look over the whole of this land, no-one will suspect." The dark one whispered filled with malicious glee.
"Alas, I am denied the view of the depths of Mordor, Sauron's power is too great."
"But Master, do you not see? We have found his weakness. We can destroy him, toy with him. Bring down the man and you bring down Middle Earth, the tiny hobbits are simple enough to eliminate. It will be yours for the taking. Did you see his love, his jealousy, he cannot live without the elf."
"Indeed, you may be right, let us move quickly."
"Very good Saruman, I shall send out forces to kill the elf."
"Halt Grima! This man is responsible for the destruction of all I have worked for, for the battle of Helms Deep, let us play, I wish to have some fun."
"Play?"
"Yes, Grima hold still." The wizard raised his staff, a blinding light flew from it, engulfing Wormtongue.
The white skin darkened slightly, rank black hair lengthened, softened, untangled and was bleached a shade of gold. Grima grew a few inches, his features softened, eyes lightened and his rags replaced with the finest elven leather.
"Good." Saruman nodded. "The man knew not what he would do without the elf, I think it's time we found out. Go!"
The other figure turned and left.
Where the gruesome, slimy figure of Grima Wormtongue had walked in, Legolas Greenleaf, beautiful Prince of Mirkwood walked out.
A/N: Oh dear. I'll try and update weekly if I can, so more soon! Please, please review.