Title: Gift for Deb 2007
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their world. Please don't sue me. I'm just having fun and not making any money.
Summary: (shamefully taken directly from the prompt) Legolas is prego and due to hormonal changes is able to contract human illness/colds.
Notes: Happy holidays and sorry this was so late!
Legolas woke early in the morning, feeling nauseated, and just made it down the hall to the bathroom in time. He'd been assured by the healers that this wouldn't last for the duration of his pregnancy. However, he'd also been told there might be some other side effects, considering the baby he was carrying was half-human.
Instead of heading back to his room where he was liable to wake his lover, he took a stroll through the palace. It was early yet, and the morning air had a distinct chill to it. But he liked watching the world wake up around him—he'd missed that from before he was forced to sleep every night. Not only was his baby part-human, but Legolas was picking up some human traits as well. Legolas walked around the great white tree of Gondor.
Legolas found a seat by the wall and laid his arms and head down on the smooth, cool stone wall. He gazed down at the lower levels of Minas Tirith and then at what was once one of the bloodiest battlefields he had ever beheld but was now a field of flowers. There was such beauty to be found from such misery. He put his hand over his slightly-bulging belly reassuringly, and closed his eyes.
“If I had wanted to be manhandled, I would have taken Gimli as my lover,” Legolas laughed as Aragorn dragged the elf back to their bedchambers.
“And if I had wanted an obstinate, irresponsible lover, I would have chosen Arwen.” Aragon's pace was quick, and he did not slow until Legolas was tucked back in bed.
“I am pregnant, Estel, not ill.”
“That was why I found you sleeping in the middle of the morning, is it?” He kissed Legolas's forehead tenderly and folded down the covers at chin-level.
Now that he thought about it, Legolas was a bit curious about why he had fallen asleep so suddenly. Perhaps this fatigue was just another part of the pregnancy. Or perhaps it was something more. “My throat is a bit scratchy.”
“There you are then.” Aragorn wagged a finger in Legolas's face. “Stay.”
“Make me,” Legolas insisted.
Aragorn sat down on the edge of the bed. He turned to the side and pressed his lips to Legolas's cheek. “I love you and do not want you getting sick. Not now, not ever.”
“Elves do not get sick.”
Another kiss, this one on the lips. It was soft and slow, lazy and relaxing. Legolas closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation. In all his years, Legolas had never felt anything so good as Aragorn's kisses. They were sweet and gentle, but fiercely convincing. And as much as he wanted to savor every second of the kiss, Legolas slipped away, back to sleep.
“Bless you. Again.” Aragorn handed a handkerchief across the table. Legolas rubbed at his nose with a strength that was supposed to keep his nose from doing again exactly what it had been doing for the last few hours.
The sniffles were easy enough to get rid of. Legolas was not used to them at all, but he was able to sniff almost silently. The technique did not get rid of the sniffles completely; because the sniffles were so small, he had to sniff twice as often. The sneezes, however, were impossible not to notice. If he could just get rid of them for good, he would feel better. But for now, he felt miserable. Head pounding, chills rushing up and down his body, throat raw, nose tickling.
Nose tickling. “h'Chfff!” Legolas rubbed his nose harder into the hanky, fingering his nostrils angrily with the cloth.
“Bless you.” It was accusatory, suspicious. But even if Legolas took it easy, there was absolutely no assurance that his nose would do likewise.
“Thank you. Again.” Legolas folded the handkerchief and handed it back over.
“Maybe you need to go back to bed?”
“Maybe you need to remember I am not a subject you can order around?”
Aragorn narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you need to learn the difference between a concerned suggestion and an order?”
Legolas sniffled silently. “Maybe…” He sniffled again, liquidly and not so silent, accomplishing more with its strength. “Maybe you are right.”
He smiled as Aragorn scooped him up, and he wrapped his arms around Aragorn's neck. He felt much less miserable, held tight in his lover's arms like this. The gentle bouncing as Aragorn walked was soothing. And the warmth of the man's body was comforting. He almost didn't want the trip to the bedroom to end.
Aragorn laid him down gently and tucked him in, under the covers. “Shall I get you the rest of your lunch?”
Legolas shook his head. He was not remotely hungry; he had just been eating to humor Aragorn. “I could do with some tea, though.” He started to get up.
Aragorn just laughed. “Stay!” he said, a hand on Legolas's chest to make him stay put.
“Make me,” Legolas replied once again. But the sly, seductive tone of his voice gave way a slit second later to a sharp breath. His body shook beneath the covers. “ih-hetchh! Tishhh!”
Aragon took out the handkerchief and held it carefully. He pressed it to Legolas's nose and rubbed.
Legolas had sneezed before; sneezing was sometimes unavoidable in dusty, dirty locations— rolling about in a hayloft or fighting on a dry plain. But he had had little use for a handkerchief as elves did not usually fall ill. Aragorn, on the other hand, was experienced and the way he used it to rub at Legolas's twitchy nose made every tickle back down at once. The soft cloth, the practiced technique, and the care all combined into perfection. Legolas's nose wasn't runny or tickly or anything other than his nose when Aragorn was through.
When Legolas closed his eyes, he fell right to sleep without any trouble at all.
Legolas woke to find Aragorn sitting on the edge of the bed again, shuffling through some papers. Legolas sat up, propped up on both elbows. “You did not have to wait here while I slept.”
Startled, Aragorn turned. “I know how it is to wake up sick and alone.”
Blinking, “I do not get sick.”
Aragorn reached out. His hand easily found Legolas's belly through the blankets. “You do now.” Then, at the sight of Legolas's face, “Do not worry. It is only a cold. I will help you through it.”
“Teach me all I need to know?”
“Something like that.” Aragorn set his papers down and stretched out beside the elf. “All you need is to get rest. I know of some good herbal teas that will help as well. But I want you feeling better and to do that, you need to stay in bed.” He stroked Legolas's cheek with the back of one hand.
Legolas smiled just a little. “Make me… ih-ihhhh-ih-Chshhh!”
“Oh…” Aragorn dug a fresh handkerchief out of his pocket. “I can make you.” He waved it in front of Legolas's face. Legolas made a grab for it, but Aragorn moved it just out of reach.
Legolas sat up further, leaning forward, and instead of reaching for it, moved his face against the cloth. He nuzzled into the handkerchief and Aragorn's hand. “Thank you,” he whispered. He felt Aragorn stroke his head. It was the sort of affectionate petting he only reserved for when he was worried about Legolas. It was the same petting he had done back in Lothlórien, after Gandalf had fallen and Legolas had been unable to cope with seeing the death of a friend. It was the same petting he had done hours before the last battle when they had both been sure they would not survive the war. It was the same petting he had done when he found out Legolas was pregnant and their lives would forever be changed.
And here he was now telling Legolas not to worry. Legolas would have to show Aragorn how not to worry. Here he was, trying to keep Legolas in bed. Legolas would have to show Aragorn that he did not want to be anywhere but here in bed.
Legolas rolled on top of Aragorn, holding him down against the bed. He coughed a little bit into the back of one hand while he unbuttoned Aragorn's tunic with his other hand.
“What is this?” Aragorn asked, perplexed and curious.
“Oh, I think you know.” He was feeling miserable, and could probably have fallen back to sleep easily. However, he hoped Aragorn would be receptive to this idea. Legolas pushed the tunic back and then cupped his hand gently around the man's crotch. Legolas felt his lover's cock stir against the touch and knew his efforts would soon be rewarded. He ran his slender fingers against the bulge, feeling the hot strength harden. Aragorn wiggled about and began to speak. But then Legolas undid the lies to Aragorn's leggings and let the lovely cock spring free. When he touched it again, Aragorn sucked in breath and grinned widely. “Do you have a better idea, now?”
Aragorn smiled and nodded. “I believe so. But, meleth nín, you are unwell. And we are not alone.” He reached up, caressing the belly within which the next prince or princess grew.
“An act of love will not interfere with either.” His ear tips and nose twitched, and Legolas turned his head slightly. “As long as… as you… ihhh… ih-ihhhh… IHKetshhhh!” he sneezed wetly, making his body rock. Legolas rubbed his knuckles against his nose. “As long as you do not mind the occasional sneeze or two.”
Aragorn's face shone with affection. “I mind as much as you mind the occasional 'bless you' or two.”
Legolas beamed back at him, unable to find the words to phrase how in love he was with this man. His nose felt stuffed and runny, his throat sore and raw, his head light and painful… but he didn't think twice when it came to leaning forward and kissing Aragorn deeply. “Make love to me,” the elf insisted after the kiss.
Aragorn put his arms around Legolas and rolled with him to the side. “I will,” the man replied.
And then they rolled again, with Legolas on his back and Aragorn on top, looking down at him, carefully distributing his weight. Aragorn's cock was hard, eager, but Legolas's was still hidden under a nightshirt. There was some tugging and pulling and more tugging until both were undressed and naked on the bed. Legolas shivered, which he never did, even though he had his lover's warm body to cover him. Aragorn could hardly not notice. He pulled the covers up to cover them both. “There we are, yes?”
It took a few seconds, but then it was toasty warm beneath the covers. Legolas nodded yes and kissed Aragorn again. Legolas closed his eyes, his nose tickling and the rest of his body tingling. Lips and then fingers played at his mouth. Then hands caressed his sides. And Aragorn's crotch grinded beautifully against Legolas's. Flesh and warmth. Heartbeats and breath. Strength and weakness and love.
Legolas ran a hand up and down Aragorn's back and hooked one leg around the man's torso. “Closer,” Legolas whispered. “Touch me.” Aragorn stroked his elf in a much different way now. His index fingers traced strange symbols on the flawless, pale skin. As Legolas's hands found Aragorn's rear and caressed it, Aragorn's hands found the elf's nipples, tweaking playfully. Then one of Legolas's hands and one of Aragorn's hands landed on the elf's cock at the same time. They smiled at each other, amused to find they were so in synch. “Whenever you are ready, my love,” said the elf.
Eager, Aragorn wasted no time. It did not take much effort to move back slightly. Legolas's hands slid up and buried themselves in the man's hair. Then he spread his legs, bending them at the knee, almost in proper form for a delivery. That was the furthest thing from both their minds at the moment as Aragorn slipped himself into the elf. “Oh!” Aragorn breathed as soon as he was deep within. His eyes closed and he relished in the tight but welcoming sensation. “It has been far too long!” he moaned. “I do not want this to end.”
Legolas smiled up at him. “It does not have…” The tickle in his nose was back. He rubbed his hand at his nose. “It does not have to… to…” His face fell slightly and eyes closed even though he fought to keep them open. He tried to finish. “To… to… to end… ihhh-Kishhhh!” Aragorn moaned incoherently, which startled his lover. “Aragorn? Sniff! I am sorry.”
“Do not be,” Aragorn whispered. “That was truly sensational. You looked so… wonderfully mortal. I did not realize how lovely that looked on you.”
It was difficult for Legolas to believe that could be at all attractive, especially as Aragorn wiped his nose for him and let him snuggle close to the hanky. But he did not mind so long as Aragorn kept up with his thrusts. The smooth, strong strokes were constant from instinctively pistoning hips. And Legolas closed his eyes and let them remain closed. Aragorn kept the handkerchief at the elf's countenance.
Aragorn grunted in pleasure. He thrust faster. “Bless you.”
Aragorn leaned forward and kissed Legolas's nose, above the handkerchief. “Bless… I cannot… much longer… so good!” He gave Legolas's cock a special stroke, that had Legolas's hips rising off the bed to get at more. “You?”
Legolas sniffled and nodded. “Just a lihhhh… little more… ihhhhh-HIHshhhh!”
Torn in three different directions as he wiped Legolas's nose, continued his thrusts and rubs, and tried to hold back his orgasm, both Aragorn and Legolas were certain they knew which would be the first to give way. “Ohhh…” Aragorn moaned. His body glistened with sweat. The temperature was burning hot beneath the covers. His strong body trembled.
Legolas's smile was hidden by the handkerchief. But it lasted long enough to extend to his eyes. What Aragorn was doing to him made his whole body tingle outrageously. Slightly light-headed from sneezes, Legolas's body could not withstand the thrusts and strokes any longer. The brilliant sensations rushed through him and his own body trembled.
Legolas felt his nose tickling. But the handkerchief was still in place and his body felt too good to stop long enough to sneeze. He let it all come at the same time, washing over his body, shaking them body, taking them both on a ride. “ihhh-Hihshhh! Chishhh!” Aragorn barely registered it as he cried out in pleasure. His hand froze on Legolas's cock which spilled its contents against both their chests. Legolas gasped and filled their ears with a mix of words from both elves and man.
Aragorn turned with him onto their sides, kissing and wiping Legolas's nose simultaneously. He laughed and hugged his elf. “You always make that such an adventure,” he said. He folded the handkerchief and used a dry portion to wipe them both off. They were both still moist, sticky, but stuck together with no intention of parting.
“ihhhhh… Est... ihhhh… elllll…” He tried to hold the sneeze back, but could not. “hihhTChhhhhhh!” A bit of the spray unavoidably fell upon the man's face.
Aragorn laughed. “Bless you. At this rate, there will be no escaping it. I am sure to catch you cold.”
Legolas' eyes went wide with sudden realization. “That is possible? I had not even considered…”
Shrugging, “I imagine it is quite likely. Because of your pregnancy, you are now able to catch colds from men. I presume that I would be able to catch that same cold from you.”
Legolas was instantly horrified by the thought. He shook his head. “You should have said something! I never would have… I sneezed on you so many times!”
Aragorn laughed again. “Merely a few times. But it does not matter. An illness would mean spending more time in bed with you. And if this past hour is any indication of what might take place in bed… I beg of you to sneeze on me more.”
Legolas did him one better and kissed him.