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The Drift Of Things by Meleth

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Story notes:

Written as a (very) late christmas surprise for the wonderful Laikwalasse.

Unbetad, all mistakes are my own.

Chapter notes:

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?”

(Reluctance by Robert Frost)


Legolas enjoyed the soft scratch of the finely groomed beard against his cheeks as his lover kissed him goodbye.
The man´s taste was different from his fellow elves´, somehow less airy, but the prince of Mirkwood found him attractive all the more for it.

Pressing his own slender frame against the slightly shorter, but much broader body of the other, the blonde ellon could feel the man´s well-endowed length against his upper tight and felt very tempted to push his lover back into the man´s quarters for another round. Sadly his sharp ears detected almost noiseless steps and the soft rustling of heavy fabric approaching from down the corridor and heading in their direction.

A hint of sharp teeth against a kiss-swollen bottom lip made the insatiable human draw back, so Legolas could push him easily with the use of his superior strength back through the door from which he had emerged only moments earlier.

With nothing more than a haughty grin that promised more, the elf then drew the heavy wooden doors shut right in the man´s face and began to walk away in a leisure pace, softly humming one of the hobbit´s merry songs.

Although it was already past midday, most of Minas Tirith´s people were still asleep or nursing the headaches, which yesterday´s celebrations of the newly-crowned King´s wedding and the strong elvish wine that the bride´s father had contributed so generously, had brought on.
Legolas himself felt the after-effect, even though he was used to the even stronger Dorwinion wine that his own father loved so much.

Although that might have had more to do with the excessive physical exercises he had engaged in after the drinking, rather than the level of the alcohol in said drinks itself.

While the Wood Elf was lost in his memories of last night´s activities, the person whose steps had ripped him from his lover´s embrace just moments ago rounded the last corner and halted as she spotted the Silvan.

“Legolas!”, Arwen exclaimed and hurried to his side without the usual show of noble restraint.

The ellon seemed confused for a moment as he reciprocated the quite unexpected hug from the radiant Queen of Gondor.
“Arwen,” he started and then took a hold of the Evenstar´s shoulders to keep her at a distance and muster her critically. “We did not expect to find either you or Aragorn outside of your royal bedroom for at least the next three days!”.

The red color that spread quickly all over Elrond´s daughter´s cheeks made the elleth only appear even more beautiful to the other elf´s eyes, but when she lifted her own gray orbs to meet his gaze, Legolas saw unexpected emotions reflected in their depths. Instead of the expected bashfulness and pride of a newly-wed bride, he saw panic, shame and fear and it hurt in his very féa, to see the glorious glow that had poured in waves from her just yesterday so diminished and fading.

Never could he have declined the Queen´s soft spoken plea of “I need to speak with you.” after witnessing that.

Without resistance, he let himself be led to the closest vacant room where Arwen all but pushed him to sit on the bed while she perched next to him.
Although Legolas wondered why she would choose to seek him out, instead of her proud father or loving brothers or even any other elf from Rivendell, he grasped her slender and perfectly manicured hands in his and waited patiently for Arwen to speak.

The Evenstar took a few deep breaths that lifted her bosom high and the blonde elf, although quite sated, felt a pulse of lust sweep through him at the sight, before he could suppress the more than improper reaction.

Arwen seemed not to notice his predicament and grasped his hands tighter, before she started speaking in a low and hurried voice.
“Last night, ... Aragorn and I, ... we didn´t …”, she broke off and stood from her seat to pace up and down in front of a thoroughly confused prince of Mirkwood.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was really only one minute later, the raven-haired beauty stopped and turned around to face her companion again, with her long locks flowing around her head and shoulders until they settled against her back again in perfect disarray.

“We didn´t consummate our marriage.” she finally admitted and before Legolas could ask, or she lost her courage, she quickly added: “We need your help.”


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


Aragorn was not keen on admitting that he had fallen back to his childhood habits just the day after he had not only been crowned the King of Gondor and Anor, but also wedded the most beautiful being that had walked on Middle-Earth since Luthien.
Still, the most powerful man on Arda now sat sulking in a tree in his private gardens and tried to hide from the world while he brooded over the unfortunate events that had taken place last night and hindered him from making love to his wife.

Both had retired early from the party to retreat to their quarters and full of desire, they had kissed passionately, before Aragorn had slowly peeled the ornate wedding dress from Arwen´s body to reveal all of her glorious body to his eyes for the first time.

His wife had likewise bared his body piece by piece. Seeing a naked male for the first time, Arwen had been both fascinated and intimidated by the proud erection that jutted from between her husband´s legs.

Until then they had always shared only the gentlest of kisses and embraces and never in their 40 years of engagement had Aragorn broken his oath of fealty to her.
All had gone well, considering that Arwen was a virgin and Aragorn had never lain with a woman.

First growing up between elves that considered him a child and then spending years roaming the wilds, had not allowed him to woo a woman and the only relief he had known, had been a quick fumbling around in the dark of the night with one of his fellow rangers that was never to be spoken of in the light of day.

That was until his trip to Mirkwood, where he made the acquaintance of a certain elvish prince. Legolas had been both beautiful enough to stir his libido like no man before and cheeky enough, so he felt challenged not to back down first.

One day a sparring session had escalated and before Aragorn had really known what had happened to him, he was straddled by a very naked and very aroused Legolas and then ridden to the very edge of his sanity.
Aragorn had left Mirkwood the very next day with the rest of the company of rangers and did not expect to see the golden-haired ellon ever again. He fantasized about their encounter for many lonely and cold nights to come, until he reached the realm of Lothlórien.

There his eyes fell for the first time on Arwen Undomíel and from there on, it was she who would play the lead-part in his dreams.

He was surprised at the feelings that the sight of Legolas at Elrond´s council had evoked in him, but he did not approach the elf in anything but a friendly manner. Even while on the quest, he had stayed true to his engagement to Arwen, although Elrond told him she would take the ships to the Undying lands soon.
It had taken an approaching army of ten-thousands of Uruk-Hai and almost no hope for survival, for him to give into his body´s demands and seek out Legolas once again.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   Flashback . . .  . . . . . . . . . . . . 


“I was wondering if you would come to see me.” The elf´s melodic voice interrupted Aragorn in his fruitless attempt to inch the door to the armory open silently.

Legolas was the only one left and was currently working on a pair of worn Rohirric leg-protectors that he tried to fit to his own much longer and more slender legs.
The man watched the elf fiddle with the items for a moment longer, before Legolas succeeded and laced the protectors up. The construction of leather and metal-plates encased the elf´s legs from the ankles to over the knees and even had one plate surround the tip of his soft boots, so he could kick at his enemies without the risk of breaking a toe.

As if to demonstrate this to his audience, Legolas jumped a few times up and down and then aimed one lazy kick at a nearby empty crate. Satisfied that his feet were sufficiently protected, the prince then turned towards his visitor once more.

“Although I was unsure if you seek my company, or rather that of the Lady Eowyn.”
The elf´s voice appeared calm and collected, a perfect facade that would have fooled most men, but not the foster son of Elrond.

“We don´t have much time,” the elf continued as he approached the man. “I can already hear the sound of our enemies marching.”

Despite his words Legolas just stood in front of Isildur´s heir and made no move to initiate the first contact. Blue eyes burned into the man´s gray orbs and with a display of utter desperation, Aragorn grabbed a fist-full of pale blond hair and clumsily pulled the elf´s lips down against his own.

Now assured of the other´s intentions, Legolas reciprocated the kiss with no less passion, but more skill and slid closer to the human, so their bodies were pressed closely together.
40 years of pent up frustration exploded in Legolas´embrace and Aragorn´s hands latched onto the blonde´s hips to draw the other even closer.
Judging from the human´s erection that pressed into the elf´s upper thigh, Aragorn was ready to proceed and so Legolas started to steer his companion backwards, until his knees hit the edge of a nearby table.

Before Aragorn could direct enough blood back to his brain to make sense of his position, he found himself turned around sharply and then bend over the table so his upper body laid on the rough wooden surface.

Unable to see the Mirkwood elf, he could only smell his distinct scent, a mixture of fresh cut grass and wood and feel the super-humanly heat that the elf emitted as he leaned over his back and pressed his hips flush against Aragorn´s backside.
Soft lips brushed against a round ear, as the prince leaned further over his leader and whispered

“We have to move things along now, if we don´t want to be interrupted.”

Aragorn´s lust-ridden mind could not process the words quite fast enough, before nimble fingers set to loosen his belt and push his leggings down to his knees. An appreciative moan escaped Legolas, as he took a moment to appreciate the firm and round globes that were now bared to his gaze.
Squirming slightly under the elf´s sharp gaze, the man was caught unaware when one slender hand wrapped around his still rigid length and began to pump him in a fast pace.

Aragorn´s low groan ended in a higher pitched squeal as he felt the prince´s hips against his backside again, only now he felt Legolas´ length slip between his cheeks, as the blonde ellon had just opened his own leggings enough to allow his own growing erection to escape.

The human´s head cleared immediately and panic gripped his fast-beating heart.
“Wait! I can´t ...” he rasped out and stemmed his hands against the table to try to rise.
One hand, calloused by centuries of wielding bow and sword, pressed between his shoulder blades and prevented Aragorn from rising, while its twin never let up its fast stroking and robbed Aragorn quickly of all power to resist the elf.

When Legolas saw the Dúnadan cling to the table´s edge with enough strength to turn his knuckles white, he decided to stop teasing his friend.
“Don´t worry,” he started and thrust against the man so the tip of his erection slipped between the round globes.

“Sadly we do not have the time for more. This will have to suffice.”

Aragorn relaxed at hearing the ellon´s words, but his hands and the muscles in his back tensed again only a second later, when Legolas started to thrust against him in earnest while he continued to fondle the blood-heavy length that jutted from between the ranger´s legs.
The elf´steady rhythm and his squeezing fingers drove Aragorn over the edge in an embarrassingly short time and with a last moan that closely resembled the sounds a wounded bear might make, he spilled his seed over his companion´s hand and the table´s surface.

Legolas usually had greater endurance, but he had had not such pleasurable company since the elf maid he had taken to his bed in Lothlórien and during their wild chase and then the flight to Helm´s Deep, he had not even found much time to pleasure himself. One every other thrust against his friend´s behind, the head of his cock would prod ever so slightly against the human´s tightly sealed entrance and only the thought of finally breaching the tight ring of muscles was enough to drive him to release only moments after Aragorn.

Legolas leaned his forehead against the Dúnadan´s neck and breathed in the musky scent that was so unique to humans and something else, that was only Aragorn.

Then his sharp elven ears noticed the blow of an orc horn in the near distance and with a lingering kiss against the base of Aragorn´s skull, he drew back and quickly pulled his leggings back up and fastened the drawstrings.
The ranger was slower to recover and pushed himself up on wobbly knees. When he reached to draw up his own trousers, the sticky wetness that cooled against his skin made him grimace. Legolas only laughed at seeing his friend´s unhappy expression and pulled the other close for a last lingering kiss.

After the two separated to finish dressing, the elf threw his friend his belt with Andúril still in its sheet.
“I hope your sword arm is strong and your aim steady tonight, mellon nín, for I fear Saruman´s fell creatures will smell me on you and fight you even fiercer for it.”

Aragorn caught the sword one handed and slung the belt around his slim hips in one fluid move.
“They will be too stunned to smell a elf´s scent on a human to react fast enough to avoid my strikes.” he spoke and grasped the prince´s strong shoulder with one hand.

“Come, let us give them a proper welcome.”


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . End Flashback . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 


“I know of you and Aragorn. He told me when I first arrived in Minas Tirith.”

The Evenstar´s voice sounded calm and collected again, after her lose of composure earlier. On the other hand it was now Legolas who had trouble forming words. Luckily Arwen came to the conclusion that it was best to clear some things up before her friend answered her.

“I blame neither of you anymore, as I understand now that the circumstances were dire. But I also take it was not your first time together, was it?
I remember his face when he supposedly saw you at Ada´s council for the first time and there was recognition... and longing.”

“Arwen!” Legolas interrupted her. “I never wanted to come between you and Aragorn! I would have never touched him as more than a friend, if only I had known you stayed for him in Arda!”

Elrond´s daughter raised her hands in a placating gesture and shook her fair head, but the troubled Silvan elf did not stop his tirade.
“It was but one time, when he visited Mirkwood with his fellow rangers shortly after Lord Elrond told him of his heritage. Please my Lady, my Queen, believe me!” he ended in a soft spoken plea.
Arwen was shocked at the prince´s pleading tone, while she was secretly pleased by his loyalty to his friend. She was sure Legolas would gladly take all blame on him, if that could save Aragorn´s and her marriage.

Now though, she had to tell him just why she had need for his help.

“Legolas, I do not come to seek revenge as a betrayed fiancé.
I come to you as a wife to seek advice in how to seduce my husband.”

That stunned the Mirkwood elf enough that he forgot to close his mouth. Arwen had to suppress a giggle at the sight. The stunning woodland warrior looked at that moment very much like an elfling seeing a dwarf for the first time.
“How... how could I possibly help you with that?” he finally managed to bring out. For a moment he thought he saw a dangerous glint in the Evenstar´s eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure.

“If there is one elf left in Middle-Earth that I can trust with this, it is you.”


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 


Gondor´s king shifted uncomfortably on his branch. His recollection had left him with an uncomfortable erection that tented the front of his pants.

A quick look into the sky told him, that he had not only successfully evaded all his subjects in Minas Tirith today, but also all his meals. His grumbling stomach could only be ignored for so much longer and so Aragorn was forced to leave his sanctuary.

With the stealth acquired in over 60 years of living as a ranger, he skillfully evaded all servants bustling about and managed to grab an apple and a few slices of fresh bread from the kitchens.
He ate quickly while walking and thought briefly about returning to his new favorite tree, but abandoned this idea quickly. He had to face Arwen.

No doubt his beautiful and caring wife was waiting anxiously for his return.

With new determination, the King changed directions and headed towards the royal quarters.
He nodded briefly to his guard at the entrance, who saluted his ruler quickly, before he threw open the doors so he had no time to second guess himself.

At a first glance his chamber was empty and Aragorn swallowed the disappointment that wallowed up in him.
Walking over to a low table, the man poured himself a goblet of wine. He had just touched the fine glass to his lips when a soft sound drew his attention.
Putting the wine down he concentrated on his hearing and waited if the sound would come again.

It did, and this time he could make it out a a mixture between a soft whine and a gasp.

His honed warrior´s instincts took over and with one hand on the handle of Andúril, Aragorn inched his way towards the source of the strange noises.
With one hand one the door to the bedchamber he paused again, but a noise that most closely resembled a heart-wrenching sob sounded from within and fearing for his wife, Aragorn threw the door open and charged.

The scene he stumbled into was not the one he had expected. Instead of bloodthirsty Haradrim soldiers trying to subdue Arwen to take her captive, his lovely wife laid spread out on their large bed clad in naught but her skin.
A fine sheen of sweat shone on her alabaster skin and her silver eyes bore into those gray orbs of her husband´s. Through the interruption, she did not stop the movement of her right hand which was busy moving between her wide spread legs.

Aragorn watched the slender fingers disappear between her wet folds as if mesmerized, his sword still grasped in his slack fingers. Another whimper fell from Arwen´s plush lips and her free hand grasped the crisp white bedsheets even tighter.

Gondor´s returned King was so focused on the vision of beauty before him, that he did not flinch as he felt another firm body press against his body from behind and take the sword from his hand.
He felt the warmth of the other´ chest against his back, as two strong hands gripped his hips and guided them so he felt a firm hotness press against his backside.

The man recognized the person behind him by the familiar smell that enveloped him, even before he heard the soft spoken words.

“Use your other hand, too, Arwen. I want you to play with your breasts.”

Only when his wife obeyed his friend´s command and started to knead one supple breast, did Aragorn turn his head so he could see Legolas´ handsome profile.
The elf met the man´s eyes only for one moment, before he took one hand from Aragorn´s hip, so he could turn the other´s face once more on Arwen´s direction.

“Look at her. Is she not the most beautiful being you have ever seen?”

Aragorn could not think beyond agreeing with the statement, as all blood was currently fleeing his brain to travel south.

Another moan broke from Arwen, as she saw her husband´s pupils dilate with passion. She met Legolas eyes over Aragorn´s shoulder briefly, to get him to move things along.
The blond elf obeyed his Queen and moved his hands from the King´s hips forward until one hand cupped his straining erection while the other slid up and down one muscled tight. Caught in sensation, Aragorn leaned back against his friends while thrusting into Legolas´ hand. His own hands hung limply at his sides.

Slowly, so he did not startle the enraptured Dúnadan, the wood elf started to move against the other´s backside, giving his own raging hardness some much needed attention.
Only when Legolas began to work at the drawstrings of Aragorn´s leggings, did the man turn his head again to face his former lover.

Gray eyes met sparkling green and a soft smile from the elf did much to reassure Aragorn.

More settled, Aragorn turned back to his wife and found her watching the two of them intensely. To his surprise there was no aversion or jealously in her expression, but only an unending love and need for him and, if he was not mistaken, also a deep desire for his blond friend.

Surprised and elated at her reaction, the ex-ranger moved back against Legolas´ thrusting hips with new vigor and felt a great sense of pride when his ministrations drew a moan from the elf.
With nimble fingers Legolas finally managed to loosen the King´s garments enough, so he could pull them down the man´s legs and expose him to two pairs of hungry gazes.

“Come, Arwen,” he then lured and took Aragorn´s heavy flesh in one hand like an offer, “Taste him.”

Arwen who had until now been able to hide her nervousness, now looked up at her tutor with apprehension clearly showing on her face. Her teacher showed no mercy, though and only called again. “Come, Arwen.”

The Queen hesitated only for a moment longer, before she crawled on all fours towards the two males, from whom neither could suppress a deep sigh at the tantalizing sight. She stopped before her spouse, kneeling on the bed and eyed his formidable length nervously, but was interrupted before she could do anything else.

“Would you like a demonstration, my Queen?”

At that proposal two sets of gray eyes widened and turned towards the speaker. Legolas´ smirk looked positively predatory as he rounded Aragorn and then crawled on the bed so he sat right beside Arwen.

Paying attention carefully so she would miss no detail, Arwen watched Legolas, as he first gripped her husband´s cock with his right hand around the base and the angled it, so the blood-heavy crown pointed right into his face. While he stroked with one hand, he looked directly into the man´s eyes.
“Hold eye contact.” he explained, “It heightens the anticipation.”

Judging from her husband´s glassy eyes and heavy breathing as he stared down at the prince, Arwen mused, Legolas spoke the truth. Then, slowly as if to demonstrate the move to his pupil, the ellon bend closer and licked a line from the base of the erection, up the underside, until he reached the swell of the crown.
While the elf suckled at the darker glans, his free hand found the man´s testicles and rolled them in his palm like a pair of marbles.

When finally the Mirkwood prince deemed it time to up the game, he first sucked only the head of the man´s flesh into his wet mouth, while he stroked the rest of the erection in a slow rhythm.
Aragorn´s whine reminded the Evenstar of a wounded animal, but his scrunched up face, the mouth open in a wide “o” and the clenched fist at his side, spoke of Legolas´ talent.

Sadly for the human, Legolas pulled back after only a few moments and then stood from the bed. With a encouraging nod to the raven-haired elleth, the wood elf resumed his place behind the King.

“Go slowly. Don´t force yourself to take in too much too soon.” were the last words from teacher to pupil when Arwen moved to take over his place.

Over Aragorn´s shoulder, Legolas watched the first few tentative licks the Queen bestowed upon her King´s cock, but when it looked like she managed just fine – a fact her husband´s long drawn-out moans confirmed - the elf turned his focus to more important things.

Said more important things were currently the remaining clothes keeping him from seeing the former ranger´s beautiful body in all his naked glory.
With few movements the King´s tunic was unbuttoned and pulled over his head, together with the fine silken shirt he had worn beneath.
By dropping to his knees gracefully, the Mirkwood elf could reach the worn leather-boots. Pulling those off proved more difficult, as Aragorn could hardly keep his own knees from buckling, let alone stand on one leg, thanks to Arwen being a quick learner.

When finally no clothes were left on Aragorn, Legolas pressed himself against the man´s broader back again and allowed his hands to roam freely over the other´s skin. The prince´s fingertips found the fine dark hairs that covered Aragorn´s back, chest and then followed fine trail that led lower to where Arwen was still busy sucking and licking.

So immersed was the Evenstar in this newly discovered exercise, that she overestimated how much of her husband she could fit in her mouth and gagged around the length.
Aragorn seemingly did not notice, but Legolas heard and took one hand from the King´s stomach to softly tangle his fingers in the Queen´s luscious locks to guide her back.

“Don´t push yourself. Enjoy it.”

Arwen met his eyes and he could see her lips curve upwards around the girth stretching her mouth wide.

Legolas had always admired the Evenstar´s beauty from afar, but never approached her in that way. He felt that she was not for him and as rumor had proven true, the “Royal Maiden” was not for anybody but the King of Gondor.
That had not stopped him or any other ellon in Imladris from dreaming of the Lady of the Hidden Valley.

While he caressed one pointed tip of her ear with one finger, Legolas suddenly felt like an intruder. He was about to step back and then leave the royal quarters, when two hands grasped at the soft fabric of his jade-green robe.
One hand was strong and calloused and belonged to Aragorn, as the man pulled him closer again and thrust his backside back against the elf´s groin, his head thrown back in pleasure and resting against Legolas´ shoulder. The other hand appeared delicate, almost fragile and belonged to Elrond´s heartrendingly beautiful daughter.

Arwen´s grip on his clothes shifted and instead of holding him, she started pulling at the fabric, until she finally had the sash loosened enough so she could slip one hand inside. The prince´s hard cock jumped underneath the smooth fabric as the Evenstar trailed one fingertip down his stomach, before it changed direction and traveled around his hip. As the wood elf wore nothing beneath, Arwen could caress the satin skin of his upper thigh and the curve where his leg met his hip, without being hindered by any further clothing.
The elleth´s butterfly touches drew a soft moan from the other elf.

Aragorn was floating in waves of pleasure as he stood trapped between these two beautiful creatures.

Arwen mouth drove him to near frenzy, but the strong presence at his back grounded him, so he could muster enough restraint that he would not hurt his wife with any erratic movement.
Although, he mused, as he watched his wife´s eyes leave his own to lock with the blond prince´s, he was not the only one to enjoy Legolas´ guidance.

The King loved the feeling of having these two elves worship him like this. Not even on the day of his crowning had he felt so powerful.
He was sharply ripped out of his haze, when he felt a pair of slick fingers trail a slippery path down his spine. Goosebumps appeared on his sun-kissed skin, as the unfamiliar sensation moved lower and the fingers slipped between his round buttocks to seek out his hidden entrance.
The elvish prince felt the small ring of muscles jump as his index came into contact. Legolas felt Aragorn tense instinctively, so instead of swiftly breaching the man´s entrance, he spend long moments simply caressing the wrinkled skin, spreading the precious oil that he had taken from a hidden pocket on his robe earlier.

When the King started to enjoy the attention and even started to move softly against his hand, Legolas moved the hand that still gripped Arwen´s long locks to caress one of her finely pointed ears.
Being as sensitive there as any elf, the Queen moaned loudly around the length in her mouth.

While her husband enjoyed the vibrations around his member and joined in her expression of pleasure, a quick twist of his wrist sunk Legolas´ index finger through his friend´s guardian muscle.
Centuries of experience allowed the elf to find the man´s prostrate on the first try and so Aragorn became only aware of the finger moving deep inside him, when a pulse of intense pleasure shot through his core.

Aragorn realized through the haze of pleasure, that it was really to late to object and so he turned his thoughts to feeling the Mirkwood elf´s slender finger push deep inside him, only to be pulled back deliciously slow again. Thanks to the oil, the movement was pleasurable easy and Arwen´s ministrations dampened any traces of pain or unease he might have felt otherwise.
Under other circumstances, Legolas loved to torment his lovers like this for what felt like hours, especially those who would object to yielding to him at first, but listening to Aragorn´s rather strained breathing and Arwen´s more than desperate expression, the prince felt obliged to hurry along.

When he tried to add a second finger he met a small resistance, but pushed inside without faltering. The gasp that escaped his lover at the rough treatment was swallowed between their lips, as Legolas tried to convey his apology.
Once the finger was in, things became easier and so the ellon started to scissor and stroke the inner walls that gripped his digits to snugly.

The two elves´ gazes met again and after a nod from the more-experienced one, the Lady Undómiel released the leaking erection from her mouth and laid back on the bed, while Legolas pulled his fingers out of the tight passage.
Without further prompting Aragorn quickly moved to lie atop her, but to his growing frustration, he was pulled back by his shoulders by the son of Thranduil.

Legolas´ lips brushed against the mortal´s ear as he whispered:
“You want to open her, too, just like I am opening you.” and unceremoniously pushed his fingers back into the man´s body.

This treatment did not sit well with the King of Gondor and if if had not been for Arwen, who choose that moment to pull her husband into a deep kiss, Aragorn might have felt compelled to teach his long-time friend a lesson in manners.
Thankfully his wife´s sweet lips distracted him soon enough and when he noticed the unusual salty taste in her mouth, a wave of arousal made his already painfully hard erection throb.

Slowly he gathered both of her hands in his left hand and held them above her head, while his right hand sneaked down the length of her flat stomach until he came to the rise of her hipbones and lower still, until his fingertips tangled in short coarse hair.
With an impatient whine and a buck of her round hips, she told him in no uncanny terms to hurry and ever eager to please the love of his life, Aragorn´s hand soon parted the damp folds to play in her wet cleft.
His index and middle-finger soon found her entrance and gently eased inside.

The former ranger had to stop for a moment, as he had to fight spending himself too early as her channel gripped his digits tightly and pulsed around the intrusion. He was so caught up in this sensation, that he failed to notice the blonde elf adding another finger to stretch his entrance.
Experimentally Aragorn started moving his fingers in and out of Arwen´s vagina for a few moments, before he almost jumped when another hand covered his.

Gently but determinedly, Legolas steered the other´s hand and turned it slightly, until he guided the King´s thumb up to a spot just beneath where her folds parted. Only a slight brush earned Aragorn a sharp intake of breath from the Evenstar. In this position he could pump his fingers in her passage and rub the little nub that drew such sweet noises from his elleth. If he had taken the time to turn around, he would have seen the broad grin that split his friend´s face in a very uncommon expression for an elf.

Together the three figures moved on the bed, with Arwen lying on her back and Aragorn kneeling between her spread legs. Legolas knelt behind the human and leaned over his back to place open-mouthed kissed down the man´s spine as he prepared the man thoroughly.

A short time later, Legolas pulled back and carefully extracted his fingers from Aragorn´s entrance.
With a quick jerk of his broad archer-shoulders his robe slipped down and finally left him as equally unclothed as his two companions. His slight frame was slender, yet packed with compact muscles that were wrapped by faultless marble skin. 
Aragorn could not see, but Arwen could not hold a soft sigh at the sight before her. He was the epitome of male elven beauty with his shining silky blonde hair and his bright green eyes, that bore deeply into her own gray orbs.

He held the eye contact, even as he lubricated his own length with the oil, before he started to penetrate the Evenstar´s husband.
At first the King´s body tensed, as he sensed that something much bigger than before was about to enter him, but with the gentle touches that both elves bestowed upon him, he was able to relax enough to allow Legolas to penetrate him. Gently and so very slowly, Legolas eased his considerable length inside, letting the human feel every inch he sank in him. Arwen cradled her husband´s head against her soft breasts and whispered sweet nonsense in his ear. Finally Legolas felt the last inch slip into the well-oiled passage and felt his balls press against the Dúnedan´s backside.

His strong fingers held tightly to his friend´s hips and his thumb´s drew slow circles over Aragorn´s skin as the man concentrated on his breathing and tried to accept the invasion.
Meanwhile Legolas had to center himself, too, as the King´s channel pulsed around his erection.

Surprisingly it was Arwen who acted first, as she took her husband´s slack hand from her most intimate parts and then maneuvered around for a moment, until her knees gripped tightly to the ex-ranger´s hips and touched Legolas´ hands, where they still held onto her spouse. Slowly, so he could memorize the sensation, the prince moved his hands from the man´s skin to the Evenstar´s long legs and traced invisible patterns on her knees and upper tights, until he reached her round derriere.
There his grip tightened and with the strong muscles on his back and neck tensing, he lifted her bottom a few inches from the bed and held her in this position.

Aragorn awakened from his trance at her movement and with a smile, he placed a gentle kiss on his love´s lips. Legolas was surprised when without any prompting, the King lifted his wife´s lovely legs over his shoulders and with endless patience slowly entered her moist heat.

All three, now joined, stopped a moment and enjoyed the sensations that this encounter brought them.
Arwen felt the warmth of Aragorn´s flesh inside her, while Legolas´ fingers alternatively squeezed and stroked her behind.

Slowly Legolas started to move. First he pulled almost all the way out until only the crown of his cock remained inside the King, before he slowly pushed inside again. After a few thrusts, Aragorn began to mirror his moves and a soft sigh escaped Arwen´s rosy lips, as she felt the delicious push and pull inside of her.
Together the three moved in a slow harmonic rhythm, until the prince decided it was time to speed things up.

With growing strength and speed he shoved into the human, carefully angling his thrusts so he would only brush the man´s prostrate every now and again. It would not do for the Dúnedan to come too early, only because Legolas could not control himself, now that he could finally claim the former ranger as his.

If only for this night.

With Legolas guiding him, Aragorn was finally able to relax and enjoy the encounter. The ellon´s hands angled Arwen´s hips so he could penetrate he deep and judging from the whines and gasps that grew in volume with every thrust, she too felt much pleasure from their encounter.

Due to their intense teasing, neither could last long. Arwen came first with a high-pitched cry and Aragorn felt her passage clench around his own length. Together with Legolas length that hit his sweet spot just at that moment, he could not will himself to stop his orgasm and spilled his seed deep inside his wife.
Legolas heard Aragorn´s growl and felt the man´s entrance tightening around his erection, but with determination born from desperation, he managed to stave of his own release long enough for a few more thrusts, before he too succumbed.

Panting was the only thing that resonated in the royal bedroom for a long moment.
Gently Legolas withdrew from the man, who had not even enough strength left to hide his wince. Aragorn immediately rolled to the side and pulled his wife into his arms. The ruling couple of Gondor snuggled closely together and shared a few chaste and satisfied kisses.

Legolas could not help but envy their happiness. He felt like a ice-cold hand gripped his heart as he turned around and slipped into his robe again.
Slowly he walked over to the window so he could leave the apartment undetected. With each step he took a part of him hoped that either of the two would call him back, but the couple was lost in each other´s eyes and did not even seem to notice him missing. With a last glance back, he levered himself onto the window sill and then into the branches of a nearby tree, from where he soundlessly closed the window behind him and then vanished into the night.

Unknown to the elf, two sets of gray eyes had watched him taking his leave. Aragorn´s face was sleepy and sated and a lazy smile curved his lips upwards. As he pulled his wife even closer to himself he felt deeply grateful for his friend´s help in overcoming the problems between Arwen and him.

Meanwhile Arwen was more awake than her husband and Legolas´ mournful look had not escaped her notice.

The lively sex-life of Mirkwood´s youngest prince was no secret, except maybe from Mirkwood´s king, and Arwen was not the only one who had noticed that Legolas preferred dark-haired men.
Until Aragorn had told her of their brief liaison, she had not thought much of that, but now she could not help but feel sorry for the blonde archer.
“We own him much, Estel.” she spoke softly, but Aragorn was already deeply asleep and did not heard her words. A soft smile graced her beautiful features as she rested one hand on her stomach, where she felt the first flicker of life growing inside of her.

If the King´s dreams that night were of an hour many years ago, spent in passion in a small glade far off in Mirkwood, he did not tell his wife. And if the name of their first-born son was as much in honor of his heritage, as well as the one who had made his reception not only possible, but most pleasurable, the Queen did not mention it to her husband either.


The End