Title & Chapter Number: Treacherous Moon 1/1
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Dimensions_of_Dhvana
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Characters and places are Tolkien's. Playtime is mine.
Warnings: Dark Fic, Non-con, so be careful
Betas: Nope
Cast: Legolas/Frodo, Legolas/Aragorn
Timeline: FotR
Spoilers: None
Summary: Legolas works his wiles to claim members of the Fellowship, using them for his own purposes.
Notes: There have been so many dark fics floating around this week, I couldn't resist throwing my hat into the ring. Don't know how dark it actually ended up being, so I'll have to rely on you for that. Which leads to warnings.
"Legolas!"
"Oh, say it again!"
"Legolas!" cried the little Hobbit, his passion—hazed blue eyes gazing up at the Elf with complete adoration, the silky brown curls falling in a halo around him.
"Frodo," Legolas smiled, claiming the soft lips as he moved gently within the little body, his hair a golden curtain protecting his lover.
Their hands were clasped together above Frodo’s head as Legolas eased his Elfhood into him again and again, Frodo biting his lip raw to keep from crying too loudly and waking the others. These rare moments together had become as precious to him as his promise to see the Ring destroyed, the beauty of the first outweighing the darkness of the other, giving him the strength to go on.
The Hobbit didn’t know how this had started, when he had first noticed the Elf’s midnight eyes always following him, always watching him with a light he had never seen before. He desired only to know the cause of that light, drawing the answer slowly from the blushing Prince. When he had finally heard Legolas’s confession, his only response was silence. He didn’t know what to think, that an Elf could love him, a simple Hobbit, when someone of Legolas’s beauty could have anyone he desired. But the Elf did love him, and Frodo could see his silence caused the Elf immeasurable pain.
The midnight blue eyes turned away in agony, and Frodo realized how much he had come to rely on Legolas’s gaze, to rely on it, to cherish it, to love it—to love him. In sharing his love, he had found happiness he could never have imagined, and when they could steal them, moments of pleasure beyond anything he had ever experienced.
"Frodo, I am near!"
"So am I, beloved! Together!"
"Always," Legolas said, then arched his back as he found release within Frodo, the Hobbit spilling his essence between them.
"Oh, my love my love!" Frodo cried, before Legolas silenced him with a kiss until the violent spasms of orgasm had passed. The Elf slid out of him, then onto his side so as not to crush the tiny being whose face was flushed, his lungs gasping for breath.
"You are far too sweet," Legolas said, his hand on Frodo’s chest, his fingers tracing absent patterns over the rapidly beating heart. His fingertips were only inches away from the silver chain holding the Ring, which had fallen over a pale shoulder, but could still be seen, gleaming mischievously in the grass. "Far too easy to drown in. I wish there was a way to stop this, to stop my love for you."
"But why?" Frodo asked, his eyes filling with fear.
"My love endangers you—how can I keep you safe by watching for our enemy when my eyes cannot leave your face?"
The Hobbit smiled, resting his head on the silky shoulder. "Then do not look at me. Watch for my enemy knowing that my eyes see only you and that I am watching out for our love as you watch for those who would separate us."
"And you and your eyes will see that our love stays safe?"
"I shall guard it with my life."
"Your life already has enough charges to care for."
"Yes, but this charge will provide no difficulty, for it is easy to love you."
"Not so easy as it is for me to love you," Legolas said, kissing the dark curls. "I shall simply have to find a way to both love you and keep you safe."
"Never leave my side, and you can consider your task accomplished."
"Impossible, my little love," Legolas said, causing Frodo to frown until the Elf started chuckling, "for you need to return to the Fellowship, and I need to return to my watch."
Frodo sighed. "You are right—if Sam wakes up and finds me gone, he will have the entire camp searching for me."
"And we don’t want them to find us like this," Legolas grinned, and Frodo laughed.
"This would be rather awkward to explain."
"Come, love," Legolas said, easing himself and his lover into a sitting position. "Let us hurry and get dressed, then you can go back to sleep and return to your dreams."
"I shall only dream of you," Frodo said, pulling on his breeches as the Elf slipped into his tunic.
"And I shall pray that morning arrive soon, and then that the day rush by, so that tomorrow night will come and we can be together again."
"Two nights in a row? Isn’t that a little risky?"
Legolas turned his midnight gaze on the Hobbit. "You don’t think me worth the risk?"
Frodo threw his arms around the Elf, burying his face against the lean chest. "Why don’t we tell them, so we don’t have to hide?"
"Because there lies the true risk," Legolas said, running his fingers comfortingly through the soft curls. "If one of them succumbs to the Ring, they might think to use our love against us in order to claim it, and I will do nothing to put you in further danger."
"I love you, Legolas."
"And I love you, Frodo. Now go," he said, leaning down to kiss the rosy lips. "Sleep. You need your rest."
They kissed one last time, and Frodo disappeared through the brush and made his way back to the camp. Legolas’s eyes narrowed as he watched the fragile-seeming body pass through the leaves, the midnight blue darkening to black, a slow, cruel smile spreading across his face.
He was beginning to wonder why he even bothered with this little game. Foolish Hobbit. They were certainly gifted with stomachs ten times as large as their brains. It was far too easy to win the little bug’s heart—once that was claimed, even easier to coax his virginity out of him.
That was the one benefit to bedding the Ringbearer, Legolas thought with a chuckle. That small body made for a tight fit that was almost excruciating in its pleasure. Too bad his own size tended to tear the Hobbit up a bit. Well, too bad for the Hobbit. He really didn’t care one way or the other, so long as Frodo was healed enough for the next time Legolas wanted him. Though, that problem had been amended as well, Legolas smirked. Frodo’s voluptuous lips and hot little mouth contained a hidden talent of their own, once Legolas had shown him how to use them.
However, all this was becoming tiresome. The company was beginning to suspect, and have desires of their own. He should just take the Hobbit—and the Ring—and leave. Frodo certainly wouldn’t object. It would be easy to convince him that it was all for their own good, that by leaving, they would be protecting the others.
Legolas sighed. Maybe they shouldn’t leave quite yet, not while he and Frodo were still free to sneak off at nights, and especially not while there were so many Orcs around.
Still, Valar! There were times when he would give anything for a full-sized Man with a full-sized cock. A Man with an ass that could handle all of him without being shredded every single time. A Man much like the one watching him now.
Glancing over his shoulder, a little half-smile crossed his face. "Hello, Aragorn. Please, come out of hiding. It can’t be comfortable for you crouched against that tree. You must be...stiff after watching us."
"I know what you’re up to, Elf," Aragorn said, emerging from the shadows, "and I am here to let you know that I’m going to stop you."
Legolas laughed softly as the Ranger approached and halted directly in front of him.
"You cannot stop me, Aragorn. Frodo loves me, Frodo worships me—there is no way for you to keep him from me."
"I will tell him the truth, that you only want the Ring."
"And I will tell him that the Ring has taken you and that we must leave. Tell me, Estel," Legolas said, running his fingertips over Aragorn’s cheek and across his jaw, feeling the responding shiver in the Man’s body, "who do you think he’ll believe?"
"Leave him alone, Legolas."
"Never. He’s far too delicious a morsel not to partake in. Those big beautiful eyes—bluer than the sky over Imladris, that skin so like an Elf’s, the hair that gently curls about his face—don’t tell me you could resist him. I’ve seen how you look at him, Aragorn. I’ve seen how you watch us. You would join us, if you thought yourself welcome."
"Not while you are present, Elf," Aragorn snarled. "I would die before I touched you."
Legolas threw his head back in a long, full, deep-throated laugh, and Aragorn mentally cursed himself for finding such a vision beautiful.
"You would die if you touched me, my grizzly Estel. The pleasure alone would be enough to kill you."
"You are not so impossible to resist, Elf."
"Men," the Prince said scornfully, shaking his head. "You are so easy to deceive, particularly when it comes to deceiving yourselves."
"Stay away from Frodo," Aragorn said, backing away from the alluring creature.
"If you insist."
The Ranger paused. "What did you say?"
"I said ‘if you insist’ because, of course, I will do anything you ask, brave leader," he answered, his voice mocking. "Anything to keep the Fellowship whole. Anything to keep the Ring safe." He paused, looking directly into Aragorn’s eyes. "Anything for the Ring."
Growling deep in his throat, he lunged at the Elf, wrapping his hands around Legolas’s neck as he knocked him to the ground. "Stay away from Frodo, and stay away from the Ring!"
The Elf pulled the hands away from his throat without even having to put any effort into it and rolled them over so that he was on top of the Ranger. Pinning Aragorn’s arms to the ground, Legolas’s lips curled in a malicious smile. "I’ll give up the Ring, on one condition."
"And what condition would that be?"
"You let me take you any time I want."
Aragorn’s eyes widened. "Never."
"Then say good-bye to both Frodo and the Ring."
"You would give up the Ring, but not Frodo?"
Legolas shrugged. "My father sent me to seek the Ring. Frodo I seek for my own amusement. So long as we keep this little agreement from the Hobbit, what harm is done? He believes himself to be happy and loved, you can relax knowing the Ring is safe—from me, at least, and I get a brand new toy to play with," he grinned, licking the side of Aragorn’s face.
The Ranger flinched away from the Elf’s touch. "This is not an agreement I care to make."
Legolas’s eyes hardened as he gazed down at the Man. "Then let me phrase this for you in a slightly different matter—you will benefit by having something to tell yourself, something to explain the burning left inside of you every night when I take you whether you agree or not."
"No!" Aragorn said, trying in vain to struggle against Legolas’s superior strength. "I am not yours to have!"
"I’m sure Arwen will thank me for it, having a husband who will bow to her will in bed," Legolas said, turning Aragorn over and pulling the breeches down over the rounded buttocks to the muscled thighs. Aragorn shuddered, tears pricking at his eyes. This was not happening, he told himself. It was a nightmare, only a nightmare.
But the fingers diving into him were far too real.
"This is your last chance, Estel," the Elf whispered in his ear, the warm breath chilling him even more as the slender fingers twisted inside, stretching him to prepare for Legolas’s approach. "Give in to me, protect your precious Fellowship, and I will give you pleasure you never imagined. Reject me," he said, jabbing viciously into the Ranger, forcing a cry from his throat, "and I shall take what pleasure I want and make you suffer for it."
Don’t do this, Aragorn’s heart said. Say no. Keep your dignity. Be a King.
But the word that escaped his mouth was, "Yes."
His stomach heaved as he felt the satisfaction in Legolas’s smile.
"Do you mean that?" the Elf asked, pausing his motion inside the Ranger.
"Yes," his mouth whispered.
"Ah, Aragorn," Legolas said softly, "you are an even bigger fool than the Hobbit."
"Shut up and do it, Elf."
"With pleasure." Removing his fingers, he reached for the oil that was a necessity with his tiny lover and carefully applied it to the Ranger’s entrance. He was more gentle this time, reaching deep for the spot that even Aragorn couldn’t deny. He brushed against the gland again and again until the Man was writhing beneath him, feeling each wave of pleasure despite all efforts to block them out.
When Aragorn’s heart was beating at a sufficient pace, his breathing rapid, his skin flushed and covered with a sheen of sweat, Legolas knew he was ready.
Oiling himself as much as he deemed sufficient, Legolas lifted Aragorn to his knees and began edging inside of him. He would have liked to have thrust into him and take him with all his force, but that was what the Ranger wanted, to have it over with quickly, so he was determined to make it last as long as possible. He teased the outer ring of muscle, dipping in and then pulling immediately out until Aragorn was groaning in fury and frustration. Legolas smiled to see the Man’s hands clenching into fists, tearing out handfuls of grass at a time. It was driving him mad, and the Elf felt a thrill of triumph run through him.
Time to go deeper.
He pushed half of his length into Aragorn, his own desire spiraling at how tight the Ranger was. He would adjust over time, but until that happened, this Man would be far more pleasure than he had ever anticipated—and he had anticipated a lot.
"Are you finished?" Aragorn growled through clenched teeth.
"Just beginning," Legolas replied, deciding to give him a taste of his true self, and forced his entire arousal inside. Aragorn cried out in pain, and then in pleasure as Legolas’s cock hit his hidden gland. Unwillingly, he backed against Legolas, his body wanting to feel that wave of ecstasy again as he closed his mind off from feeling anything. Legolas, however, refused to give him even that amount of freedom, keeping his pace even and steady, brushing Aragorn’s pleasure spot only when he felt like it.
Just as Aragorn was ready to release his senses into madness, a hand closed around his arousal. He gasped, his eyes rolling into his head. Gods, the Elf wasn’t lying. He’d never experienced anything like this.
But was it worth the price? Was it worth his spirit, his soul?
No, never! It would never be worth—"Oh, gods, yes!" he cried, spilling his semen over the ground, the Elf’s hand milking him till he was dry.
The clenching of the Man’s body around him nearly brought him over the edge, but Legolas was not quite ready yet.
"Are you mine, Aragorn?" he asked the weeping Ranger.
The Man mumbled an answer, and Legolas’s eyes narrowed, thrusting even harder into him.
"Are you mine? Speak clearly!"
"Yes, I am yours," Aragorn sobbed.
His admission sent a fire through Legolas’s body and he opened his mouth in a silent scream as his orgasm overpowered him, sending wave after wave of hot liquid into the Human. When he was spent, he fell to the side, gazing at Aragorn. The Ranger had curled up into a ball and was trembling. Legolas smiled, running a finger along the Human’s spine, causing his convulsions to increase.
"It’ll be all right, Estel. You’ll get used to me, I promise. Feel secure in knowing that your Fellowship is safe."
"I hate you," answered the strangled voice.
Legolas chuckled. "It wouldn’t be any fun if you didn’t."
Aragorn struggled to his feet, pulling up his breeches as he ran into the woods. Legolas sighed, stretching in the soft grass, the moonlight bathing his silky body with a pale glow as a contented smile spread across his face. Maybe, one day, he would give Aragorn the chance to take him. He really would enjoy feeling the Ranger’s cock claim his revenge. Not any time soon, of course, but before they reached Caradhras. After they passed that treacherous mountain, he would take Frodo and the Ring to Mirkwood, leaving the Fellowship behind. But until then, he would have both Frodo and Aragorn to keep himself amused.
Once Thranduil had the Ring, maybe Father would let him keep Frodo, he thought, lifting his hand to let his fingers trace the moon. He really would make a lovely pet.
But that could be decided later. For now, he needed to play at being one of the Fellowship and take his turn at watch, in case one woke up and decided to look for him.
With a sigh, he rose to his feet and dressed, grabbing his bow just in time to see Boromir approaching.
"What are you doing awake, Son of Gondor?" he asked with a nod of respect towards the Man.
"Couldn’t sleep," Boromir responded. "Figured that since I was up, I’d let you get some rest."
"Thank you, Boromir," Legolas said, a cunning gleam appearing in his eyes as he looked the warrior up and down from his head to his toes, "but I don’t need to sleep."
He wet his lips as he gazed at the large Man and the sizable bulge between his legs. He was already twitching at the thought of how Boromir would feel inside of him. This one was already halfway claimed by the Ring. It wouldn’t be too much trouble to claim the other half.
"Would you like me to keep you company?"
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