He was lying there, not asleep, in his bed and staring at the ceiling. Not exactly what he wanted to do, not by far, but sleep eluded him along with the reverie of elvish dreams, this night and this night of all nights he craved both more than ever, to sleep and dream Elven dreams of forests or the cry of the sea. Things that didn't require him to think didn't force him to hear what were so blatantly whispered in the corners of his being.

He rose again and donned his tunic to roam the halls of Medusaeld in this night. They were empty, all the inhabitants were of course asleep in their beds, with the exception of the few night guards posted. He walked through the great hall in which their counsel had been held earlier. Aragorn and Gandalf trying to convince Theoden that he should face the enemy head on and not hide in Helms Deep. If any of his people had been there they would have wondered why he didn't speak up. When standing beside such as Lord Elrond and Queen Galadriel he was young. But he was the heir to the throne of Mirkwood and known for having counsel that was worth hearing.

But this had not been his time; it had been Aragorn's time, to go from Strider the Ranger to Aragorn the King. Theoden might not yet know, but it was time Aragorn showed his true colors and that was not impossible when overshadowed by an Elven prince.

The thought of Aragorn made his thoughts once again turn to what they weren't supposed to and he left the hall quickly, speeding up his steps, trying desperately to outrun his own thoughts, feelings and to a certain extent his body, his body that had declared treachery against him. Never had he burnt this way before and the longer the quest continued, the greater the danger became and the closer the end they came, his body burnt hotter and hotter. His thoughts jumped to despair to cool acknowledgement of what had to be done and back again. Never leaving him alone in the peace like state he had easily achieved before even in his hardest fights.

He knew this couldn't go on any longer, he needed to talk to someone to clear his mind for a moment or his participation in the coming battle would mean nothing and it was clear that the humans needed his help now more that ever.

His train of thought was interrupted all of a sudden when he almost walked into a door. He raised his eyes and came to the conclusion he was standing outside Eowyn's room. Even if she as a fellow fighter and a grown woman with the knowledge of desire could have wise words to say, she was too deep into Aragorn at the moment, though she would soon realize that her love for him wasn't as deep as she was currently imagining. She couldn't aid him, after all he couldn't speak to her and his interest in her was only in what wisdom she may have. She held no power over him as a woman.

Instead he took a step back and backtracked a little and turning around a corner he came to the rooms assigned to him and his companions. Ignoring the doors to the rooms of Gandalf and Gimli, there was but one he was interested in. Knocking lightly, but still soundly on the door, he made up his mind. He but wished that he only woke the inhabitant of this room and no other. He raised his hand to knock again when the door opened. It was only open a bit and showed the occupant dressed only in pants and his hair tousled about his face. Legolas ignored his questioning eyes and pushed the door open enough so he could enter. Being polite he shut the door after him.

Aragorn's eyes showed curiosity while he carefully kept the rest of his face blank.

'I don't want to think anymore, Estel. Make me just feel and forget the rest' He made sure to keep his voice low and kept most of his need out of it. He gave no time for a response though, pushing Aragorn against the nearest wall and pushed his body flushed against the man's. The surprise in Aragorn's face quickly changed into realization. His response was to cover the elf's mouth with his and wrapping his arms around the blond.

Their bodies responding to the other's presence, thought fled their minds. Legolas lost his tunic and was pulled towards the large bed. The room was sparse except the big bed. Falling atop the man, he straddled him, grounding their erections together. Moans filled the air, soft though they were. Avoiding getting caught was of outmost important and the thickness of the walls could be disputed.

Putting one hand around the elf's neck Aragorn pulled Legolas down for a kiss. One deeper than that before, tasting each other, caressing and teasing the other to bring their need to an even higher peak. Sounds like soft whimpers were issued; from whom they didn't know or care. A common need drove them to this and nothing would keep them from fulfillment. Aragorn moved his other hand down the blonde's leggings and cupping one round globe; he brought forth what he would think of as one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. Rolling them over and settling between Legolas legs he lifted his head to breathe and to take in the sight before him. In his subconscious he knew it was a sight he would enjoy but once and he wanted to try and savor some of it for the nights to come.

The sight before one was of greater temptation than the ring could ever hope to be. The sleek elf was carved with muscles, steel hidden under a silken cover of alabaster; his eyes green like the first leaves of spring had turned the color of a dark emerald, set fire. The blond hairs fanning out like the sun on the sheets. Many a night in a distant future he would wonder when this sun had left in favor for the blanket of night, but not now. The sun would guide him through this night, if only this night alone.

Longing to taste he attacked the pale neck lavishing the pulse with his tongue. Tasting rains and summer skies, every beat below his tongue moved through him and settling in his groin. More sounds reached his ears and he knew he couldn't last long know. Without a touch his body was ready to surrender to release. Moving downward with his mouth he found a shoulder, a collarbone, and strong hands with tapered fingers gripped his shoulder. The body under him arching in silent plea. Finding a nipple hard and peaked, he licked and nibbled, but continued on. Down abs like rocks dipping into a bellybutton. Taking one rest before continuing on. Slipping the other hand down his lover's trousers he lifted those pale hips and removed the leggings quickly.

Legolas was becoming undone. Every breath and beat of their hearts drove him mad and each touch was like ecstasy in itselves. When he lay there naked his thighs clinched in expectation. He knew what was to come and had longed for it too long now. Spreading his legs a bit more he almost choked on his own breath when wet heat surrounded his arousal. No thought could enter his mind and never had the ring a worse opportunity to lure the elf. Someone he desired more than the ring was running his tongues up and down his length, and taking him deep, to deep and the peak was too close and the pleasure turned into agony, never before felt.

When vibrations of humming came like a lash on his nerves his upper body arched of the bed, his hands gripping at dark hair, his face raise to the ceiling and one last suck. The muscles in his body clenched in pure pain, blinding him in a white light, and falling weightlessly back on a soft bed. His body relaxed to the point that moving his head to the other side was an effort. Sweat he hadn't noticed before cooled his body down as air touched it and a few wisps of blond hair clung to his face. Later when he was back in his own room dressing for what to come, he would think of the beautiful blond one that had stuck her head through the door, and whose white dress just barely avoided getting caught in the door as it closed after her departure. But now they were alone again and no other thought was of importance for the moment.

Aragorn swallowed the last and lifted his eyes. The sight before stole his breath and turned his pleasuring desire into pain. Sweat glistened; eyes showed only slits of green fire. Legs parted showed a relax organ. But below it was Aragorn's own ticket to release. He moved his body atop Legolas' again. Grounding his erection against the elf's limp one produced a low moan. He lowered himself down and caught pink lips with his. Silken covered steel, disguised as limbs of his lover wrapped around him in submission. And an arousal was pressed against his own again. Silken hands, once cool, but now scorching him moved down his back, taking hold of the waist of his paints and ridding him of them.

The way roughened skin moved against his own silken one, now unhindered by fabric, drove him into burning again. The heat was worse now. The foreplay had at last ended and the true act would be committed. In lonely times they would have thought they could sell their souls to erase that moment from their minds or to relive it again. Neither could ever figure out which.

Reluctantly Aragorn moved his lips from Legolas', but ground their erections together. He breathed harshly, but then so did the elf. One hand went for his pack, lying next to the bed forgotten, while the other grabbed a slim hip and friction almost drove him mad. Sounds were issued that would be burnt into his mind, not knowing who made them. His hand at last grasped tiny vial. He popped the cork and oil covered his hand. He dropped it in haste, but didn't care. He lifted his body for greater access and covered his cock with as few touches as he could manage. Then his hand moved down between alabaster thighs, going for a place of secret.

Sound tore itself from his throat and he thought they were moans but he could never be sure and his mind could never decide. The finger turned his pleasure into pain once more, although his vocal cords voiced them of pleasure. He was too far-gone. Another was inserted and he knew he wouldn't survive this. They moved within him, relaxing his muscles, widening him a bit. He wanted to scream in surrender when they left him. The sound caught in his throat as something far larger entered him in one swift move.

The tightness was killing him and he waited but three heartbeats before staring to thrust. Shallow, then deeper he pushed and the more he pulled out, but never being able to stay out and trusted in quickly again and a little harder every time. He could stay forever in that tight heat. Sounds that made the voice of Galadriel seem like orc speech touched his ears and whatever control he had clung to left him. His body overrode the mind and harder and harder and faster and faster he trusted. Biting his lips, because the scream he wanted to make were too loud and the moans that escaped him already were loud enough.

Pain swept through his immortal body, his mouth said it was pleasure, but it was too much. He was to big, to thick, to strong and now Legolas was paying for his blatant need before. Whatever was building in him was too big for his body to hold and it was coming too quickly. He tightened his legs about a strong waist and moved against his lover. Bereft of choice he rode it out. Muscles were pulled taught and for one moment it felt like his tendons would pull him apart. Then a mouth crushed against him and all tension left him in the blink of an eye.

Falling for one eternity he landed atop another body. Without opening his now closed eyes he pulled out and wrapped his arms around this silken soft body, smelling of rain and drifted into the land of dreams.

Blood, sweat and something like earth, touched by a bit of smoke filled his senses and had he been in possession of one tiny bit of strength, he would have sent out an apology to another through the foggy drapes of reverie. His mind was unfortunately too tired to even hear the blame circling in his shapeless dreams.

THE END