“Love?” Legolas’ voice was sweet in his ear. Aragorn slipped slowly away from the brief slumber, awakened through the many different spots in his body that made contact with Legolas. He opened his eyes and looked at the Elf, humming more than saying, “Good morning, my love.” A kiss was planted on his cheek, and a “good morning” followed. “Have you slept well?”

“I didn’t sleep that deeply,” Aragorn answered, fascinated by the play of Legolas’ hair on his skin. “Now, Aragorn,” Legolas’ eyes sparkled with good spirit. They were close before, but there was a kind of newfound freedom they allowed themselves that morning, and the Elf reveled in it. “I can tell the difference, even if I cannot sleep myself.”

Aragorn smiled. “Legolas?” he asked with hesitation, not sure how to ask his lover what he had to know. “Yes, my love?” A brilliant look of love and confidence stared back at the man in the dark blue eyes, so much love and confidence, that Aragorn’s heart felt as though it expanded suddenly in his chest. “You didn’t believe me yesterday, when I told you that I really do love you, that I am in love with you, but you do now - is it not so?”

Legolas felt like he could drown in the care that beamed out of Aragorn. No boundaries would be set between them from now on, least of all by their own doing. Complete truth, always. “I was scared. I thought you only believed to know your heart, but in actuality did not.” And Aragorn asked then without anger, but with wonder, “And yet you would accept me? Even though for Elves this act means to be bound together, without a possibility of unbinding?”

Legolas smiled broadly. “I am already bound to you, Aragorn. I have been so for longer than I can remember.” A slight tremor entered his voice, the kind Aragorn was starting to understand he was the only creature to have heard, as he added, “And last night...when you were in me...” He looked straight into his lover’s soul at that moment, and no further explanation was needed.

With that, Aragorn pulled Legolas into a kiss, the most serene kiss, and as their lips parted, Legolas’ head found its place on Aragorn’s chest, while they remained lying there, lacking the will to leave the private hall.

“I should check on the baby. We’ve been here for most of yesterday, and for all of the night. Riddel must have taken good care of him, but I should go have a look in any case.”

“Don’t go.” Aragorn spoke as Legolas was already drawing himself out of his arms. The Elf stopped and smiled at him. “I must,” he said. The man rose, leaning on his elbows, and when he was very close to Legolas’ face, he scattered a small flood of kisses on his chin, exploring the jaw line. In between, he muttered something. “No.” He finally voiced his true objection. “I meant: don’t go from me. Stay here, in this castle. It’s already your home. Why don’t we make it so, officially?”

Legolas looked at Aragorn with wonder. Only then – on that morning, after their passionate lovemaking – had the thought become real, that he could really stay here for good. He did not know what to answer, and Aragorn immediately understood and added, “You may not have to leave your home. I know it is much to ask you to give up your kingdom, and I will not, if we can have our lives entwined in any other way.”

“What do you suggest, my love?” Aragorn moved a finger along the fine cheekbone, a short smile of delight appearing and then fading as his thoughts turned back to the task of figuring out a common future. “Suppose we united our kingdoms? You said it yourself. They are not far from each other. There will be many advantages for our people if we succeed in this plan, but most of all...” He immersed himself in Legolas’ little alcove, right beneath his neck. The Elf ran his fingers, slightly scratching the skin, over the man’s sides, evoking a low growl from his mouth.

“What do you say?” Aragorn asked, breaking contact with the exquisite taste of the Elf’s skin. “I say, don’t stop.” It took the man a few seconds, but then he laughed, quietly and wholeheartedly. “Aragorn,” Legolas added, before his lover would have the chance to rebuke him in jest for the rascal he truly was at heart, “I would have to ride out to Mirkwood. I shall have a gathering with my brothers, and together we will decide.”

“What if it falls through, for whatever reason?” Aragorn’s anxiety was not very clear in his voice, but it was there. Legolas smiled at him reassuringly. “Then we find another solution. We’ll find another king for Mirkwood, maybe. Maybe something else. We will be together, though. I promise.”

“And do you like the idea?” Legolas nodded. “Very much so. To not be parted with you? How can you even doubt that the idea would thrill me?” And with that, he leaned into Aragorn to kiss him fully and deeply, with an urge renewed, as though all their lovemaking had not taken place, as though it were their very first touch.

To be continued...