No matter where he sat,
he could hear them, the soft rustle of skin and clothing as
they coupled in the night. Even if he were to rest, they
would slip into his dream, as sinuous as a thread of smoke
and in his dream he would be surrounded by the unforgotten
taste and scent of their flesh, nothing like that of an Elf.
This night he lay awake and he did not have to speculate how
they were twined together, ivy wrapped around oak. He
wondered if Aragorn would remember the difficulty of
extracting ivy once it took root.
If he did not, it would be a most appropriate punishment.
Trying to rest the mind with the body so awakened would be
absurd, and instead Legolas drew his knees up and loosened
his leggings, slipping a hand inside to stroke disobedient
flesh into restfulness.
Strange that his thoughts refused to linger in that which he
knew and instead went to the loftier climbs of imaginings.
Considering what he knew by sight and by smell, but never by
touch. The harsh voice, lyrical as water crashing upon the
rocks, roughened hands that gripped an axe haft with easy
skill.
He wondered how they might feel upon him, gripping him with
the same ferocity. It would unusual in its very awkwardness,
their different heights and skin, and he wondered at the
Dwarf's inclinations, if he would be as fierce as taskmaster
as he might hope, gifting him gleefully with gruff orders,
or if he might only be seduced with gentleness.
Were it either or none of his speculations, this taste of
passion would be a rare delicacy indeed, and he took his
pleasure at the thought of being taken, crouched over the
Dwarf with eager flesh pushing inside him, stretching him
painfully, as it always must, each time he enjoyed the
delights of another.
He licked his own dampness from his fingers thoughtfully,
watching the innocently slumbering creature next to him and
wondered which of them would savor this taste, were he able
to seduce a Dwarf.
Or rather, when he was able to seduce a Dwarf, and he was
able to ignore the soft cries of his companions, hearing
only the voice in his coming dreams, ordering his willing
obedience.
-Finis-
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