Amelioration | By : MorierBlackleaf Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2390 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings nor any of the related characters. I make no money from writing about them. |
N.B. -- This is the first chapter of a story called "Amelioration." I have an entire series of Estel/Legolas slash stories which are collectively called "Induration." One day, I hope to post that series here, but I currently do not have the time because the series is 3/4 million words long right now, spanning four stories. This is the first chapter of the fourth story. You do not really have to read the series to enjoy this vignette since it is purely smut. However, the entire series is posted to AO3, so see my author's page for the link if you want to start at the beginning and read the whole tale. Enjoy!
Amelioration -- a Vignette
Having awoken before sunrise, at the same time and with nothing that day to do other than be in love and enjoy the valley of Imladris, Legolas was inspecting his human lover bit by bit, starting with the Adan’s hands. He had woken with his head upon the man’s chest and Estel’s arm around his shoulders to hold him tightly to him, but now the human was lying upon his back, his eyes open and upon Legolas, though neither had yet to speak upon wakening, and the Prince laid on his side beside the human, his head propped upon his hand.
Estel’s fingers were heavy and strong, his hands calloused from living in the woods and wielding a sword. The Ranger kept his nails very short to keep them clean, but could never seem to be rid of the embedded soil in the calluses of his palms, scrub though he did. The Prince trailed his own long, slender fingers over the back of the man’s left hand, which was resting upon Aragorn’s chest. Firstborn bodies were not terribly dissimilar to Secondborn bodies, but even for a human, Estel was made exceptionally, in Legolas’ opinion. The Ranger’s strong hand was joined to his thick, muscled wrist and equally stout forearm, which was peppered with dark hair. As he trailed his fingertips through this hair, his touch light and familiar, the muscles under the Ranger’s lean flesh quivered under his tanned skin – unintentionally, Legolas had tickled Estel when his fingers lingered against the inside of the man’s elbow. He looked up to his lover’s face to see the beginnings of a sleepy smile curling at the corners of Aragorn’s mouth.
Shirtless and uncovered in the coming dawn’s illumination, the Ranger’s hide looked like supple calfskin. Onwards his fingers explored, up the man’s arm and to his shoulder, where there was a scar upon the cords of muscle that ran above his collarbone. Legolas followed this slightly lighter colored pucker upon the Adan’s flesh until it ended at the base of Aragorn’s throat, and then he moved downwards. Hair stippled Estel’s chest, with the occasional grey hair found amongst the dark. Legolas was unaware that his mouth hung slightly open and was nearly watering from the desire to trail Estel’s broad chest with his lips instead of his fingers, but Aragorn could see the lasciviousness upon his lover’s face. He only laid there, however, in shared, comfortable silence.
Rather than his mouth, Legolas used his fingernails to abrade gently against the darker-fleshed buds of the human’s chest, before his fingers dawdled downwards, rifling the Adan’s dark hair, over the man’s taut belly, the muscles underneath his tea-colored skin again rippling as Legolas’ fingers tickled the sensitive flesh of his ribs. At seeing this, the now beaming Prince once more looked to Estel to find that the human was outright grinning back at him. His fingers kept roaming downwards until he hit the waist of the man’s trousers. Normally, Aragorn slept in the nude during the summer – at home in the valley, anyway – but last night he had fallen asleep without removing them. Instead of breaching this impediment to his exploration, Legolas retraced his fingers’ route back up the Ranger’s chest and to his throat, where he lovingly scratched against the stubble upon the Adan’s chin and cheeks. He ran his thumb over Aragorn’s mouth, feeling the Ranger’s humid breath against his finger, and then, Estel slipped his tongue out just enough to wet the pad of Legolas’ thumb before he playfully nipped at it, causing the startled Prince to pull his hand away with a chuckle.
Finally, the quietude was broken when the laegel teased his lover, “Are you that hungry? I’d rather keep my fingers, if you don’t mind, but I can find a servant to bring us breakfast, if you like.”
The Ranger reached down to grab the Wood-Elf’s hand, which he brought back to his mouth. He took the Prince’s thumb between his lips again, this time closing his teeth lightly around the end of it as if he were a mouse nibbling cheese. When Legolas laughed again, Estel let the Elf’s thumb fall free from his mouth though he still held tight to his hand. He told the Silvan, “You taste better than anything the kitchen could cook for us.”
Amused, for Aragorn always seemed to pay him the oddest compliments, Legolas sat up on the bed, which caused Estel to groan, for he had been hoping to keep the Prince abed with him for a while yet. “I am hungry,” he told the Ranger, rising to find something to eat. The day before, he and Estel had spent most of the daylight sparring in the fields and practicing at the archery range, which was where they would spend today, as well, so the Elf had worked up a healthy appetite after his well-deserved night’s rest.
“Stay here,” Aragorn told the Silvan, halting him with a hand upon the robe that Legolas had intended to don. The Wood-Elf was entirely nude and the Ranger did not want him to dress, it seemed. “I will go.”
Knowing just what the Adan was thinking – that is, if he kept Legolas inside his room then he might have the chance to continue to enjoy the sight of the nude Elf and perhaps enjoy the Elf’s body, as well – the Prince nodded his agreement and settled back on the bed. Quickly, Estel threw on enough clothing to be respectable and was off to find the nearest servant, whom he would beg for breakfast to be brought to the Prince’s rooms. Normally, the two went down to the common room where many of the inhabitants of the Last Homely House ate together, but no one would be downstairs so early and neither Elf nor Adan wanted company just yet, anyway.
His mind at ease and his sorrow at bay as it had been for the last two months that he’d been in Imladris, Legolas walked around his room, setting things to rights in absentminded enjoyment of just being alive and without the vociferations of grief that were wont to erupt from the marred flesh of his thigh. When he went into the bathing chambers to find water to splash his face clean, the Wood-Elf realized that he had never made use of the bath he’d had the Imladrian servants fill for him the night before. The Silvan went to the tub and peered inside, wherein clean, cool water stood as still as the predawn air. He had intended to take a bath the night before, after Estel had massaged his thigh, but the Prince had nearly fallen asleep before Aragorn had finished tending to his aching muscles. Since the water was clean, Legolas stepped into the bath to make use of it. He had no more than sat down in the frigid liquid before the door to his outer chamber opened. He knew that it was Estel who entered even before the Ranger softly called out his name, his voice tinged with mild worry that he did not find his Elven lover just where he’d left him.
It took some convincing, but Estel joined him inside the tub. It was summer, the air warm even though the sun had yet to rise, but the bathwater was still cold for the Adan. Although the temperature of the water did not affect the Prince, he had to laugh at Estel when the human’s skin became covered in goose bumps in response to the algidity. Happily, playfully, the two lovers relaxed with Legolas reclining against the human to share his warmth. They washed each other’s hair, backs, and said almost nothing the whole time. For the Prince, Estel’s company was often marked by long periods of silence in which neither felt the need to fill the other’s ear with nonsense or chatter – it was one of many of the reasons that he had grown so attached to the human even before realizing that he loved him beyond mere friends, for there were few people in Legolas’ life with whom he could spend time without the other person feeling the need to indulge him because he was a Prince, or in the case of the twins, regale him with stories and silly arguments to amuse him. This was even truer now that his life had been interrupted by tragedy. To everyone but Estel, it seemed, Legolas’ silence portended the return of his grief, and so those around him tended to try to fill it with whatever came to mind rather than allow the Prince to dwell on his sorrow.
When Estel’s skin began to wrinkle from the long soak in the tub, he stood to help the Ranger stand, and they took turns drying the other off with the last clean towel to be found. Legolas swung his robe over his shoulders, which earned him a disappointed scowl from Aragorn, who was not pleased to lose the sight of his lover’s nude body, though the Ranger had soon wrapped the towel around his waist for warmth. Without conferring, the two went back into the Elf’s bedchamber, where Anor had begun to rise and the room was filling with the first rays of the morning’s summery sun.
Legolas reclined upon the messy bed with his legs over the edge as though sitting, clad only in his robe, his hair damp and in disarray, and his feet dangling just above the floor. Aragorn sprawled out beside him, the towel still around his waist, and just as wet as was the Silvan. As he had before, when first they had woken, Legolas rolled to one side, put his head upon his bent arm’s fist, and stared without abashment at his Adan lover. From just this action, Estel began to grin, for he had hoped that the Prince would resume reconnoitering his flesh as he had been doing earlier.
With one finger, Legolas began tracing the beads of water upon Aragorn’s skin, pushing the droplets around, knocking them from the hair upon Estel’s torso, until he had managed to gather a miniscule puddle of bathwater in a slight hollow between the sculpted halves of Aragorn’s muscled chest.
“Where is the servant?” he asked in mock irritation. “I am thirsty.” Giving his Ranger a fleeting smile, he bent his head down to lap at the tiny pool of liquid he’d created.
Just this caused Estel to groan in anticipation, but the knock of the servant bearing their breakfast interrupted the two, and since the Ranger was now barely clothed, Legolas answered the door to collect their food. Bread that was warm and fresh from the ovens and a jar of honey were all that the human had asked for to break their fast, it seemed, other than the steaming pot of tea. With thanks, Legolas accepted the tray from the kind she-Elf who smiled warmly at him, as if privy to the intimate moment she had interrupted.
He took the salver and set it upon the mantel – which was where most things in the room ended up, the Elf mused with an inner smile. The laegel suddenly had no desire to douse his bread in honey, for he could think of a better use for the ambrosial sweet. While Estel lay still upon the bed, watching him with unresolved lust in his silver eyes, the Prince took the jar of honey in hand and climbed back onto the bed, and then crawled so that he sat upon the human’s groin, which was already growing thick with desire. Legolas could feel this through his thin robe and the cloth of the towel, which was all that separated their lower bodies.
Aragorn had said nothing but observed pruriently while Legolas gave him a mischievous grin. With the wooden dipper, Legolas drizzled the honey in a fine line across the human’s chest, ere he carefully nestled the pot into the blanket so that it would not tip over and onto the bed. At once, the laegel bent and began to lap away the sweet, thick liquid, leisurely swirling his tongue around the peaks of Estel’s chest, which hardened under this attention. With one hand, he held his hair back out of the mess he was making, but used the other to tug at the towel that hid the man’s navel and nether regions, pulling it out from underneath him and from around the Adan’s lower body. If Estel had any qualms about being covered in honey, he said nothing, though his chiseled face was softening as his lust grew and he began to turn his chest into the Elf’s machinations.
“I thought you were thirsty,” the Ranger said, his hoarse voice becoming a quiet mewl when the Silvan’s teeth closed gently around one honeyed bud upon his torso.
“Would you rather I pour the hot tea over you?” the laegel asked seriously, which as he had hoped earned him a snicker from Aragorn. The Ranger’s laughter was short-lived, though, for the Elf took the other of the man’s nipples in his mouth, treating this sticky bud of flesh the same as the other.
Legolas scooted downwards, causing Estel to moan from the mere friction of his now nude lower half against the Silvan’s rear, until he was seated upon the Adan’s knees, instead. He took the pot of honey in hand again, and then took the wooden dipper from the pot to slide it along the top of Estel’s half-awakened shaft, which in itself caused the human to give a sharp inhale; but then, Estel grunted loudly when Legolas replaced the dipper with his tongue. Slowly, the Silvan Prince lathed the man’s shaft, his tongue only a light pressure upon Aragorn’s flesh, and he did not take the whole of the Adan’s manhood within his mouth just yet. Under him, Estel’s hips jerked in pleasurable discomfort, for his body sought to increase the sensation of his lover’s warm and moist mouth upon his shaft, although he tried to remain still to allow the laegel to enjoy his breakfast.
“What of me, Greenleaf?” the Adan asked huskily. “I am hungered, also. You cannot eat all alone.”
But the Elf ignored this for he was not yet done. Again, he took up the pot, though this time when he dipped out the honey, he let it drizzle over the lust tautened sacs under the man’s sex as well as his now wholly engorged shaft. Before he resumed having his breakfast of honeyed Ranger, Legolas paused long enough to crawl upwards so that he could taste the man’s lips in a brief but thorough kiss, invading Estel’s mouth with his dulcet tongue, and then was sitting back upon the Adan’s knees once more before the lust-muddled human could respond. At once, he took one of the globes under Estel’s manhood into his mouth, pulled with his lips and the suction of his mouth at the honey and the soft skin there, then moved to the other and did the same to it, also, before he once again began to suckle the human’s shaft inside his mouth, swirling his tongue around the honey-covered length of it in the wanton, lewd manner of one who is truly aroused by giving his lover pleasure.
As if tasting something especially delicious, which happened to be true at the moment, Legolas murmured playfully around the shaft inside his mouth, “Mmmmm.”
The vibrations of this incited Estel to pitch his hips forwards, off the mattress, and thus his manhood deeper into the Elf’s gullet; eagerly, Legolas accepted this, allowing the human to writhe and raise his hips to increase the pace of his pleasure for a few moments, until he sat back up. His pleasantly swollen lips winding into a smirk, the Prince finally remarked, “What of you? You can eat once I am full.”
So great was Estel’s need and so desirous was the Prince to be taken by his lover that the Wood-Elf was ready to forgo the usual preparations of his body. He slid the robe from off his shoulders, threw it to the couch nearby, and sat back for a moment. The human’s eyes roved the laegel’s lithe form as he made his plans how to pleasure his Elven lover in turn. The Ranger had not even had the chance to touch the Prince yet but Legolas was on the verge already. Like Estel, the Prince’s shaft was rigid and his body keen, but Legolas did not want to spill his seed without Estel inside him. Thinking that he would miss the chance to have his Ranger fill him should he wait any longer, the Wood-Elf crawled forward until he hovered over the human’s lower body and positioned himself as though to accept his lover’s length.
But Aragorn would not chance hurting the Prince, despite however much he longed at that very moment to house his shaft inside the more than willing laegel. He pushed the Elf off him with belligerent, impatient desire, threw Legolas to his back, and then roughly pulled him by his thighs to the edge of the bed. Although surprised at the abrupt change in position and the man’s easy domination of him, Legolas found his lust rising to greater heights at the Ranger’s display of strength, for he had effortlessly moved Legolas around as if he was little more than a sack of flour. The Adan had done all this to have his taste of the Elf, not out of aggression, and since he trusted Aragorn completely, the Prince laid back and let the Ranger manhandle him as he wished.
Estel dropped to his knees beside the bed with the Wood-Elf’s thighs in hand to spread them up towards the Prince’s chest but also wide open, exposing Legolas’ clandestine flesh in its entirety to his lustful gaze. For several long moments, the man just stared, but then, in one swoop, the Adan had his lover’s thickened shaft inside his mouth, his lips meeting the laegel’s navel. He draped the Silvan’s slender legs over his shoulders so that he could make use of his hands. With one hand, Aragorn caressed, abraded, and pulled at the Elf wherever he could reach – his chest, his belly, his sides – while with the other hand, he slid a finger between the widespread rounds of the laegel’s arse. Though his mouth was suctioning and engulfing the Silvan’s shaft lewdly, noisily, and his hands were rough in their quest to fill themselves of Legolas’ flesh, the finger that now teased his entrance was feather light and calm. Estel paused in his voracious imbibation of the Prince’s shaft only long enough to wet his thumb, which he then used to tease the entrance to Legolas’ body. Several times over the course of the next few minutes, Estel repeated this, each time stretching the Elf slightly further, wetting his thumb evermore to ease his eventual entrance, until Legolas was panting at the exertion to contain his climax. He was adamant to have the human inside him when he found his release.
The human was just as eager to fill the Prince as the Prince was to be filled, and after a short while of readying Legolas’ opening and at the Elf’s insistence, Aragorn stood to see it accomplished. Estel slid his hand over his mouth, rubbing spittle onto it, and then slicked it and the seed that streamed from his shaft down its length. The Silvan kept his legs up and apart, offering his body to the human shamelessly. Because they had no oil – they had used it all last night for the Ranger’s massage of the Elf’s thigh – Estel pushed inside of Legolas extremely slowly, barely breaching the Prince, but the laegel was eager and did not care that the scant lubrication of Estel’s spittle was all they had. He felt only the slightest pain. Unwilling to force his way in deeper, Aragorn did not thrust into the Wood-Elf but merely jostled their bodies together with a deliberate agitation of his hips.
“Greenleaf,” the human was whispering. They had no desire to wake anyone sleeping or draw the hushed valley’s attention to them, but the moaning laegel forgot about trying to be quiet when Estel changed the angle of his entrance into the Silvan’s body.
He hooked his legs around the man’s waist to draw him nearer, but ever wary of hurting the Elf, Estel did not return the Prince’s attempt to increase his speed nor try to push his way farther into his Elven lover. Instead, he maintained his measured pace, which in the end brought Legolas more pleasure than had they lost themselves in the moment between them, for the laegel’s need grew to a summit higher than ever it had before. When Aragorn’s hand grasped Legolas’ leaking shaft to glide along the sleek skin out of sync with his intentionally moderate collision of his own shaft into the Elf’s innermost flesh, the Prince almost lost himself with just one stroke. However, he reached out for Estel, who used his free hand to hold onto his Elven lover’s hand.
Realizing that in his ecstasy he had closed his eyes, Legolas opened them so that he could peer into the bewhiskered visage of his beloved. Aragorn was flushed and sweating, his once clean hair hanging damp with sweat around his brow. Before the Prince’s return to Rivendell, when the Elf and Ranger had made love the first few times, Estel had always appeared to be concerned and solemn, as if afraid of the consequences of their lovemaking for Legolas’ grieving faer. But much like the Elf now, the Ranger left all such thoughts behind when their bodies were joined as one, for together, enjoying each other’s flesh as they did each other’s company, neither could fathom that anything might come between them or the love they shared.
“Greenleaf,” the Adan whispered again between sharp gulps of air.
He could tell that Estel was close to finding his own release and knew that if he did not find his first, he would find it the moment that the human spilled his seed inside him. He would never have thought such a thing would be agreeable but to have inside him – literally – the proof of the pleasure he could bring his lover would bring Legolas to the edge and over it quicker than any trick Estel might try to incite the Wood-Elf’s release. In fact, just thinking of Aragorn spilling his seed inside him made Legolas’ belly tighten, the intimate muscles of his opening squeezed upon the human’s shaft, and when Estel’s hand upon the Prince’s shaft tightened in response to this, Legolas was abruptly pulled past the point of being able to prolong his pleasure by delaying his orgasm. With a nearly painful contraction of his legs and lower body that caused his back to arch and his head to bend backwards, he thrust his hips upwards and his shaft harshly inside the man’s encircling hand, while the hand onto which he held he gripped even more fiercely, and shot his seed across his own chest.
His pleasure did not end there, however, as Estel was not yet finished. The human let go of both the Elf’s hand and his shaft, took hold of the Prince’s thighs again to spread them widely, and then found a different speed and angle, for his desire had mounted drastically at the erotic spectacle of the laegel’s completion. Still careful not to thrust too hard into the Prince’s unoiled opening, Aragorn’s pace became frantic and irregular. The continual barrage of the man’s shaft inside him made the Elf tremble at the unending pleasure, his thorough and loving submission of his body to the Ranger whom he trusted more than he had or did anyone else made his chest feel as if it would burst with adoration for the man, and the amatory, affectionate gaze of the human caused him to sob his breath. Had the human been Elf-kind, the two lovers’ souls would have been truly bonded, but in moments such as this, Legolas knew that his faer was joined permanently to the man regardless.
Finally, when the Prince was sure that he could take no more of the penetrating euphoria lest he begin screaming from the intensity of it, Estel shuddered, collapsed forward until he caught himself with both hands upon the mattress, and with several rough, uncontrolled jerks of his hips forward and thus his shaft harder into the Prince, finally Estel filled Legolas with his seed.
They remained like that for some time, each trying to catch their breath, but their eyes never leaving the other. The Elf’s arm shot out to push at the hair at the top of Aragorn’s head when it fell in front of the man’s face, barring Legolas’ view of his lover. Suddenly, the satisfied Ranger gave the satiated Elf a wicked grin, ere he leant forward even more. With another flash of his mischievous smile and reminiscent of how Legolas had licked the Ranger’s chest clean of honey, Estel licked the Prince’s chest clean of his seed, never once removing his still adamantine shaft from inside the Elf. The Silvan squirmed under the man’s tongue, which in turn caused Aragorn’s shaft to shift inside his body and caused him to writhe harder.
“We’ve both had our breakfast, then,” the human laughed as he lapped the last spot of his lover’s seed from his chest, before crushing his mouth against the Elf’s mouth.
The two lovers shared between them the salty taste of Legolas’ seed upon the Adan’s mouth and the lingering sweetness of the honey upon the Elf’s mouth, the two contrasting tastes complementing each other in a strange way – in a strange way similar to how the Elf and Ranger complemented the other, despite their differences. His shaft still inside the laegel and his lust only recommencing, the Adan rolled his hips forward, causing the Wood-Elf to gasp at the gratifying bombardment of Aragorn’s manhood inside his sensitive body. He laughed in surprise as his spent desire began to rise again along with Estel’s.
Aragorn laughed along with the Prince when he asked teasingly, “Aren’t you full yet, Legolas?”
“…Legolas?” he heard again, though this time it sounded frantic, unlike Estel’s voice.
Slowly, the Elf’s consciousness returned from his exhausted slumber. Someone was calling to him, drawing him away from the pleasant dream he’d been having.
“Legolas?”
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