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vigorliTitle: Games Lovers Play: To Wherever It May Lead
Author: Ariel Tachna and namárië120
Author’s LJ: www.livejournal.com/users/ariels_fics
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Just sex
Beta: Sileya and sirkayem
Archive: VOLA slash, OEam
Disclaimer:. I don’t know the actors and don’t make any claims about them. I just make up stories when I get bored.
Summary: Roleplaying in New Zealand.
AN: Written as a birthday present for the incomparable Bailey.
Other stories in this series
Viggo glanced around the meticulously detailed outdoor set in fascination. He had never spent much time at the Hobbiton set since Aragorn didn't have any scenes there, but the quality of the props and set decorations were as flawless as every other part of the production. Pete had taken advantage of the natural beauty of the countryside, centered around an enormous oak tree that formed the center of the set used to film Bilbo's birthday party. The set was impressive, all right, but it was also empty. In fact, deserted might be a better word. He glanced down at the note in his hand, then checked his watch. Orlando had said to meet him here at six, and it was almost quarter past with no sign of the Elf. Smiling at his lover's habitual tardiness - he'd probably gotten caught up with Dom and Elijah again - Viggo settled on the ground beneath the tree, resting his back against the broad trunk and taking out his belt knife to check the edge.
Orlando waited until Viggo made himself comfortable against the Party Tree. Everything was ready, just waiting for the Ranger’s arrival. The picnic basket was stocked with easy to nibble goodies and a bottle of good New Zealand wine. The lube was well hidden at the bottom. The blanket was spread out, the fire laid and ready to light. All that had lacked was Viggo’s presence. “Le abdollen,” he said in Legolas’ regal tones as soon as he saw his lover let down his guard. “Although, you look considerably better than the last time I said those words to you.”
"I'm late?" Viggo protested, raising an eyebrow at Orlando, still in full Elven attire. Viggo usually wore more than half of Aragorn's costume whenever he could - it helped him stay in touch with the Ranger's persona - but Orlando usually couldn't get out of Legolas' ears and contacts fast enough. "Looks like someone didn't even have time to stop by wardrobe and drop off his costume."
“Costume?” Orlando asked, keeping Legolas’ tone in place. Viggo always caught on quickly. He did not need to tell his lover he wanted to play. “I am wearing no costume other than what I usually don when we travel. I simply sought to give us a few hours away from the court and your responsibilities. And I did ask you to meet me here at six. It is past that now if my sense of time has not deserted me.”
So the Elf wanted to play? Viggo hid a smile and slipped seamlessly into Aragorn. Sheathing his blade, he offered his Consort a broad smile. "Then let us not waste our all-too-rare freedom in meaningless quibbling. Will you join me?" He gestured toward the ground beside him. "There is plenty of room."
“If you want to stay here, we certainly can,” Orlando agreed, pleased to see Viggo playing along, “but I have a blanket spread out for us just over the rise where we could relax and take our leisure. I brought some fruit and cheese, a bottle of my father’s wine. Will you join me, my liege?”
"With great pleasure, my Prince," Viggo answered, rising to his feet. He was surprised and touched at the effort Orlando had put into the evening, and he couldn't help but think back to the first time the younger man had set out to woo him with an evening picnic. They'd opened the wine but never gotten to the food - though between the fireworks and their aftermath, they had never missed them! Following his graceful companion, he wondered whether tonight would prove any different.
Orlando led Viggo over the small hill to where he’d arranged everything for their picnic. Next to the blanket, a small campfire was laid, awaiting only a match to set it ablaze. He turned to his lover and ran tender, archery-callused fingers down his Ranger’s stubbled check. With a mysterious smile, he tilted his head up and captured the beloved lips, his tongue tracing the strong line of Viggo’s mouth.
He didn't have to think whether he was Viggo or Aragorn as his mouth opened beneath the Elf's probing tongue. Both were entranced by the strength and grace of their beguiling companion. Closing his arms around the slender hips, Viggo pulled the lissome body closer, bending his head to bring them as close as possible but letting his partner retain control of the kiss.
One hand cupping Viggo’s jaw, Orlando urged his lover to open his mouth, letting their tongues tangle in a sensual battle so much more pleasurable than any they had fought side by side. Not releasing Viggo’s mouth, he sank to his knees on the blanket, bringing them to a half-reclining position. The kiss might have continued unabated, might have morphed into something far more intense, but Viggo’s stomach rumbled, reminding Orlando of the picnic he had prepared. “If you will light the fire, my dear Ranger, I will lay out our repast. There is a fire kit next to the wood.”
Drawing back reluctantly from the kiss, Viggo hid a smile as he noted that Orlando's desire for authenticity apparently didn't extend to trusting his Ranger skills to start the fire - a box of wooden matches from a local pub sat next to the stack of firewood. "Your lips are repast enough for me, my love," he answered, making short work of lighting the fire and returning hopefully to the Elf's side.
Orlando smiled, a hint of his own mischievousness peaking through. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I fear your stomach would disagree,” he chided gently, pulling out a tray of sliced fruit with a rich chocolate dip in the center. He dipped a piece of pineapple in the thick sauce and lifted it to Viggo’s lips. “You should eat,” he urged. “You will need your strength for later.”
"I like the sound of that," Viggo rumbled, his lips closing around the sweet morsel and lingering on Orlando's even sweeter fingers. "Delicious," he decided, holding the deceptively strong hand between his roughened ones and trailing kisses over the knuckles. "I would fain have more of it."
“It will be my pleasure,” Orlando promised, selecting a strawberry slice this time, coating it in chocolate before holding it to his lover’s mouth. A drip of the sauce fell as the berry crossed Viggo’s lips. Orlando’s eyes sparkled as he bent his head to suckle at the Ranger’s jaw, licking away every hint of the sweet syrup.
Feeling Orlando's lips against the stubble on his chin, Viggo was tempted to wrap his fingers in the silken blond hair and plunder his lover's mouth, but he held himself back with effort. It would be easy to lose themselves in the fervor of lovemaking, but the luxury to savor moments like this one were all too rare. He reached for a slice of kiwi, dipping it in the decadent coating and offering it to Orlando in turn. "You have taken nothing for yourself," he urged.
Orlando’s tongue darted out to capture the fruit and chocolate, teasing the tips of Viggo’s fingers as he did. “I preferred to take care of you first,” he explained when he had swallowed the delicious treat. “Would you enjoy a glass of my father’s finest with our meal?”
"You have always cared for me first," Viggo answered, the feel of Orlando's tongue on his fingertips lighting a fire of a different kind inside him. "But I would enjoy a glass of wine. I appreciate everything that comes from your father's kingdom," he added in a low voice.
“I will always care for you first,” Orlando swore, Legolas’ serene mask slipping for a moment as he made his promise, wanting Viggo to hear those words as clearly as Aragorn did. Their eyes met and Orlando saw understanding in the depths of his lover’s cerulean gaze. Sliding back into his role, he reached for the bottle of Pinot Noir he’d bought from a local wine merchant. Uncorking the bottle and pouring two glasses, he handed one to Viggo. “Is it not a tradition among Men to lift one’s glass in a sign of the hope of things to come?”
"There is such a tradition," Viggo agreed, taking the glass from his lover's hand. He knew what he hoped for - what he'd hoped for even when he'd hesitated to admit it to himself - and Orlando's words made him believe the younger man was beginning to share that feeling. "I would share all the times to come with you," he pledged, hoping Orlando understood that Viggo was speaking beneath Aragorn's words.
“That has been my desire since the first time we kissed,” Orlando replied fervently. He had no idea when Legolas and Aragorn might have first kissed, but he remembered his first kiss with Viggo vividly: dancing in one of Wellington’s many clubs, their bodies brushing against each other as they moved, until Viggo’s lips had closed over his and kissed his breath away.
Viggo remembered that first kiss, too, and the pull of Orlando's words, the desire to crush Orlando's lips to his was almost more than he could resist. He knew, though, that once he began, he would not be able to pull away as he had done that first intoxicating night. Deciding to stay with a safer draught for the present, he lifted his glass to the one Orlando held. "To sharing the times to come together," he said softly, his eyes meeting Orlando's as their glasses met with a crystalline chime.
“Until the Doom of Men separates us,” Orlando offered, the words in Legolas’ mouth a vow the Elf would have no trouble keeping. He was not so naïve as to believe that it would be so simple for Viggo and himself, but he knew what he wanted, and that was this man.
The wine left a bitter taste in Viggo's mouth as he contemplated Orlando's toast. They might not face the separation Aragorn and Legolas would endure, but they would be parted eventually all the same, once filming ended. He knew that time and distance would make no difference to his feelings, but he firmly believed that these movies would make Orlando a star. They were living in a fantasy world every bit as unreal as Tolkien's creation here in New Zealand. How could he expect Orlando to tie himself down to an old recluse like himself once they were back in the real world? He took a deeper drink of his wine, his spirits darkening along with his thoughts.
Not realizing the turn Viggo’s thoughts were taking, Orlando took a sip of his wine and set the glass aside, looking in the basket for the other snacks he’d packed. He drew out a round of Camembert and some water crackers. “Would you prefer something a little less sweet for a change, meleth?” Orlando asked.
"Aye, that will be fine," Viggo answered, trying to recapture the mood which had escaped him. Orlando was here now, and Viggo would not sacrifice any of the time they had together brooding over what was to come.
Orlando opened the wrapping on the cheese and spread the crackers out on a plate. He cut a bite and offered the cheese and a cracker to Viggo. “Here you are,” he said, lifting the snack to his lover’s lips.
Viggo took the offered tidbit, turning his head so Orlando's hand brushed his cheek. A swell of love caught in his chest, and he lifted his hand to capture Orlando's when it would have withdrawn. "'Tis not food I am hungry for, meleth," he rasped, his voice thickened with desire.
Orlando laughed, still using Legolas’ cultured tones. “And so once again you reduce my hard work in planning an outdoor gathering to naught with your impatience,” he teased. His words, though, were not enough to stop him from setting aside the treats he had brought so that he could move closer to his lover’s body.
As soon as the food was safely out of the way, Viggo reached for Orlando, pulling the Elf forward to straddle his hips. "You should be accustomed to my impatience by now," he replied in Aragorn's deeper tone. "After all, you did bring a blanket."
“You have made sure I am well-practiced,” Orlando teased, his hands sliding down Viggo’s chest, stroking languidly over the strong muscles he loved so well.
"I have not an Elf's natural talent," Viggo countered, leaning back on one elbow to encourage Orlando's attentions, while he gave in to the temptation to thread the other through Legolas' ethereal hair. "As a mere Man, I require frequent practice to hone my skills."
“You will not hear me complaining,” Orlando assured him, thinking how ironic Viggo’s comment was, given Orlando’s relative inexperience when their relationship began. “Not when I am the beneficiary of both the practice and the results.” His palms settled over Viggo’s nipples, kneading at them through the thick fabric of Aragorn’s tunic.
The brush of the rough-spun fabric over his chest drew a growl of pleasure from Viggo's throat. He twitched his hips beneath Orlando's weight, the press of his erection inside his leather leggings already uncomfortably tight. With his free hand, he pulled apart the tie to the archer's jerkin, baring the silken blue tunic beneath. Sliding his palm under the leather vest, he mirrored Orlando's touch on the more willowy torso. "Like this?"
“Most definitely,” Orlando replied, his breath catching on a gasp as Viggo’s talented fingers sent his head spinning. Determined to maintain at least a modicum of Elvish control, he worked open the leather of Aragorn’s outer tunic, his fingers sliding beneath the loose shirt to find hair-roughened skin.
Though the silk of Legolas' tunic was satiny under his palms, Viggo knew Orlando's skin was even smoother. Pushing the outer tunic off the Elf's shoulders, his hands slid lower to loosen the tie of the archer's leggings, burrowing beneath the tunic to find the warm, silky flesh he craved.
Orlando lifted his hips, allowing Viggo to more easily slide his clothing out of the way. He had planned a slow seduction, but that never seemed to happen, regardless of whose skin they were inhabiting. One kiss, one touch, and all their restraint disappeared, leaving only passion in its wake.
At Orlando's responsiveness to his touch, Viggo's restraint kindled and flared like the dry wood of their fire. He hadn't meant to push things this quickly, but soon even having all of Orlando's bare skin to caress wasn't enough. He pulled the Elf down against his chest, reveling in the length of his body pressing against skin wherever the Ranger's leathers had been pushed aside. He couldn't let go of Orlando long enough to finish removing his own costume - he settled for raising his head to meet Orlando's lips in an endless kiss.
Orlando desired Viggo’s kiss like he desired his next breath of air, but he needed more than that. He needed Viggo’s body naked beneath him, against him, adding to the ecstasy that was already building. “Let me undress you, meleth,” he pleaded, tearing his lips from the Ranger’s long enough to speak.
"Hurry, then, melethen." Aragorn must have answered, because Viggo was beyond speech, slaking the loss of Orlando's mouth by pressing warm, moist kisses to every patch of skin he could reach.
Orlando reared up long enough to strip the remaining garments from both their bodies. He reached quickly in the basket and retrieved the little tube he had hidden there, returning to lie atop his lover, skin to heated skin. The bottle, he pressed into Viggo’s hand. “Make love to me, melethron,” he requested, his lips finding the sensitive curve of Viggo’s shoulder.
Setting the bottle to one side, Viggo reclaimed Orlando's lips, his hands encircling the younger man to stroke over the sleek planes of his back. He had every intention of loving Orlando, but now that he had him where he wanted him, he was going to touch and taste and sate his hunger for the Elf's body first.
Orlando shivered under Viggo’s sensual assault, a reaction he had come to know well in the time they had been lovers. Despite his own insistence that he didn’t need to be seduced, it was an art his lover practiced on him regularly. He tried to return the attention, but Viggo hijacked his senses so completely that he rarely succeeded. Tonight, though, he hoped it would be different. After all, tonight, he was Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, renowned for his coolness under fire. Viggo’s hands urged him upward and his lover’s lips closed around one nipple. All thoughts of coolness and reserve evaporated, leaving him his usual quivering pile of lust.
The salty-sweet taste of taste of Orlando's skin was richer than any fruit, more intoxicating than any wine. Viggo's lips wandered down the slim torso, pausing to feast on the brighter colors of the sun tattoo before slaking his thirst in the well of Orlando's navel. His lover's abdomen tightened and trembled beneath his mouth, the mewls of pleasure he was drawing forth only increasing his hunger for more.
On hands and knees, Orlando scooted further up Viggo’s body, offering himself for his lover’s pleasure. He wanted a thousand things at once, all of them revolving around Viggo’s hands and mouth on his body. “Please,” he whispered, not sure what he was asking for, not caring if he got it, as long as Viggo didn’t stop.
"Always," Viggo promised, following the faint trail of hair until his lips nuzzled the curls at the base of Orlando's cock. "Always, meleth." The graceful shaft jumped as his tongue traced its length, swirling through the pearly liquid that had pooled at its tip. Lapping up the saline nectar, he slid his lips around the smooth head, loving the sensation of wet silk against his palate.
Orlando’s arms and legs trembled unsteadily when Viggo’s mouth closed around the tip of his cock. He groaned deep in his throat, locking his elbows to try and stay upright. His hips rocked gently toward Viggo’s lips, wanting to feel more of the moist heat but not yet so lost to passion that he forgot his care for his lover.
Feeling Orlando trembling against him, Viggo wrapped his arms around his lover's hips, holding him steady and pulling him closer, taking more of his length into his mouth until the head brushed the back of his throat. There had never been anything as sweet as this, no one who had ever made him as fevered, as greedy as Orlando did. He wanted to consume him, take him inside and make him part of his body the way he was already part of his soul. Swallowing around the delicacy that filled his mouth, he suckled and swirled his tongue, thirsty to drink down Orlando's essence.
“If you continue like this,” Orlando gasped, Legolas’ voice coming out more from instinct than from choice, “I will not last.” Viggo knew his weakness, knew how much it excited him to have his cock engulfed this way. If this was how his Ranger wanted the evening to go, Orlando would certainly not complain, but he wanted to give Viggo the choice.
Viggo slid the slender shaft from his lips, his fingers gliding down between Orlando's cheeks to play over the furled rosette. "Let go for me, my Prince," he husked, licking his lips and running his tongue across the leaking slit. "Let me taste your sweetness." With a hum of pleasure, he returned to the blissful task of bringing his Elf to a state of mindless euphoria.
Orlando gave up fighting his release. There was no point in that endeavor, not when Viggo had asked for it. He was not sure he could have succeeded in any case, not with his lover’s fingers playing suggestively across his entrance. His head dropped between his shoulders as he came with a heartfelt groan. “Love you,” he gasped as he filled Viggo’s mouth.
The thirst Orlando's release helped slake was only temporarily abated - a lifetime wouldn't be enough to satisfy him, Viggo realized. Swallowing around the softening cock, he continued to suckle it gently, drawing out every last drop and every shudder of reaction. Finally satisfied that he’d wrung Orlando dry, he sat back and looked up at his lover with still-hungry eyes. "I would have more," he murmured.
“What would you, my liege?” Orlando asked, looking down at his lover. “Shall I return the favor? Or is there something else you would prefer?”
"I would prefer..." Viggo sat back on his heels, a small smile stretching his lips, "... never to hear you call me "liege". You are a Prince yourself, as I need not remind you, of a realm far older than Gondor. Between us there is no rank, no protocol." He brought one of the graceful hands to his lips, then pressed it to his chest, speaking his deepest desire in the Ranger’s voice.. "Only love me, meleth - that is what I would prefer."
“I do love you,” Orlando promised. “Shall I show you how much?” As he spoke, he reached for the lube, squeezing some onto his fingers.
"Show me," Viggo agreed, settling back onto his elbows on the blanket. "All that I have, all that I am is yours."
Orlando’s smile deepened as he reached behind himself, sliding one finger, then two through the tight ring of muscle that guarded his passage. He stretched himself quickly, wanting to replace his digits with Viggo’s cock as quickly as possible. When his minimal preparation was finished, he ran his hand over his lover’s shaft and lifted it so he could take it into his body, sliding down slowly until their groins met.
Of all the ways he and Orlando made love, Viggo thought maybe this was best - when his lover took control and he could let his own need spiral unchecked. "So good," he moaned, his hips rocking upward to seek even more of the heated embrace.
Orlando tried to form a coherent response, but words were beyond him. Instead, he simply bucked his hips faster, taking Viggo more urgently inside him. “Need you,” he husked, the feeling of his lover’s cock hitting his prostate enough to have him hard and aching again. “Touch me.”
"Here," Viggo answered, his own voice tight with the fever growing each time Orlando clenched around him. He ran his hands up the flat planes of Orlando's abdomen, one pausing to caress the sun tattoo as the other continued up to tease at the dark, flat nipples, "Always here..."
“Everywhere,” Orlando replied, his hands mimicking Viggo’s, trailing over peaked nipples and down to tug at the hairs of his lover’s treasure trail. He traced the outline of Viggo’s tattoo, the perfect counterpoint to his own, as they were the perfect counterpoint one to the other. “Always.” Angling his body back, he reached behind him to palm Viggo’s sacs, rolling them between his fingers with ardent enthusiasm.
His heart beating in time with the pulse of Orlando's body around his, Viggo threw his head back and gasped at Orlando's seductive touch. "Meleth," he panted, "love you, melethen..."
“Melin chen,” Orlando replied, his fingers slipping lower to play around Viggo’s entrance. This was a path they had not taken before, but Orlando was feeling incredibly bold, inhabiting Legolas’ skin. Maybe Orlando had never topped Viggo, but he couldn’t imagine that Legolas had never enjoyed the seductive warmth of Aragorn’s body. “Come for me,” he urged.
Orlando's fingers were exploring where they'd never ventured before, and the sudden image of Orlando making love to him sent Viggo soaring into a shuddering climax. His hands clenched around his lover's slender hips, his own pumping in a staccato rhythm as he filled Orlando with his heat.
The rush of warmth that flooded him triggered Orlando’s climax as well, his cock twitching as it disgorged itself all over Viggo’s stomach. Completely unmindful of the mess, Orlando slumped forward, his lips seeking Viggo’s blindly. When they met, he joined them in a tender, loving kiss, affirming all the promises he had made as Legolas.
Orlando's weight on his chest was a burden Viggo would never tire of bearing. His hands settling around the small of Orlando's back, he gave himself over to their slow, languid kisses.
“Thank you for indulging me tonight,” Orlando murmured between kisses, his hands stroking leisurely, more for the simple contact than with any intention of arousing.
"If that was indulging you, remind me to do it more often," Viggo replied with a slow smile. "Believe me, the pleasure was mine."
Orlando chuckled. “I really meant coming out here and the role playing,” he explained, “although you can indulge me with a good shagging anytime you feel like it.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a soft sigh. “I don’t want this to ever end.”
Orlando's words struck a spark of hope in Viggo's heart. Maybe there was a chance of making this last, if they both felt the same way - he realized that whatever the outcome, he had to take the chance. Reaching for the pouch Aragorn wore on his belt, Viggo pulled out the small velvet bag he'd been carrying around for the last few weeks. He offered it to Orlando with a hesitant smile.
“What’s this?” he asked, a delighted grin spreading across his face at the thought of a present, any present, from Viggo.
Viggo couldn't help but smile at Orlando's eager expression. "I didn't come here expecting to find love," he said in a quiet voice. "Finding you, finding that you loved me - it's more than I'd ever hoped for. I don't know where we go from here, but wherever it is, I want to go there together."
More confused than before, Orlando opened the bag, dumping the contents into his hand. A silver ring landed on his palm. Surprised, he looked up at Viggo. The urge to make a joke was strong, but he resisted it, examining the metal band carefully. When he saw Legolas’ – his – words inscribed on the inside, all silliness disappeared. “To wherever it may lead,” he murmured, looking up to meet Viggo’s eyes.
“That’s where we’ll go,” Viggo finished. “Just so long as we go there together.”
Orlando’s smile was radiant. “Together.”
Author: Ariel Tachna and namárië120
Author’s LJ: www.livejournal.com/users/ariels_fics
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Just sex
Beta: Sileya and sirkayem
Archive: VOLA slash, OEam
Disclaimer:. I don’t know the actors and don’t make any claims about them. I just make up stories when I get bored.
Summary: Roleplaying in New Zealand.
AN: Written as a birthday present for the incomparable Bailey.
Other stories in this series
Viggo glanced around the meticulously detailed outdoor set in fascination. He had never spent much time at the Hobbiton set since Aragorn didn't have any scenes there, but the quality of the props and set decorations were as flawless as every other part of the production. Pete had taken advantage of the natural beauty of the countryside, centered around an enormous oak tree that formed the center of the set used to film Bilbo's birthday party. The set was impressive, all right, but it was also empty. In fact, deserted might be a better word. He glanced down at the note in his hand, then checked his watch. Orlando had said to meet him here at six, and it was almost quarter past with no sign of the Elf. Smiling at his lover's habitual tardiness - he'd probably gotten caught up with Dom and Elijah again - Viggo settled on the ground beneath the tree, resting his back against the broad trunk and taking out his belt knife to check the edge.
Orlando waited until Viggo made himself comfortable against the Party Tree. Everything was ready, just waiting for the Ranger’s arrival. The picnic basket was stocked with easy to nibble goodies and a bottle of good New Zealand wine. The lube was well hidden at the bottom. The blanket was spread out, the fire laid and ready to light. All that had lacked was Viggo’s presence. “Le abdollen,” he said in Legolas’ regal tones as soon as he saw his lover let down his guard. “Although, you look considerably better than the last time I said those words to you.”
"I'm late?" Viggo protested, raising an eyebrow at Orlando, still in full Elven attire. Viggo usually wore more than half of Aragorn's costume whenever he could - it helped him stay in touch with the Ranger's persona - but Orlando usually couldn't get out of Legolas' ears and contacts fast enough. "Looks like someone didn't even have time to stop by wardrobe and drop off his costume."
“Costume?” Orlando asked, keeping Legolas’ tone in place. Viggo always caught on quickly. He did not need to tell his lover he wanted to play. “I am wearing no costume other than what I usually don when we travel. I simply sought to give us a few hours away from the court and your responsibilities. And I did ask you to meet me here at six. It is past that now if my sense of time has not deserted me.”
So the Elf wanted to play? Viggo hid a smile and slipped seamlessly into Aragorn. Sheathing his blade, he offered his Consort a broad smile. "Then let us not waste our all-too-rare freedom in meaningless quibbling. Will you join me?" He gestured toward the ground beside him. "There is plenty of room."
“If you want to stay here, we certainly can,” Orlando agreed, pleased to see Viggo playing along, “but I have a blanket spread out for us just over the rise where we could relax and take our leisure. I brought some fruit and cheese, a bottle of my father’s wine. Will you join me, my liege?”
"With great pleasure, my Prince," Viggo answered, rising to his feet. He was surprised and touched at the effort Orlando had put into the evening, and he couldn't help but think back to the first time the younger man had set out to woo him with an evening picnic. They'd opened the wine but never gotten to the food - though between the fireworks and their aftermath, they had never missed them! Following his graceful companion, he wondered whether tonight would prove any different.
Orlando led Viggo over the small hill to where he’d arranged everything for their picnic. Next to the blanket, a small campfire was laid, awaiting only a match to set it ablaze. He turned to his lover and ran tender, archery-callused fingers down his Ranger’s stubbled check. With a mysterious smile, he tilted his head up and captured the beloved lips, his tongue tracing the strong line of Viggo’s mouth.
He didn't have to think whether he was Viggo or Aragorn as his mouth opened beneath the Elf's probing tongue. Both were entranced by the strength and grace of their beguiling companion. Closing his arms around the slender hips, Viggo pulled the lissome body closer, bending his head to bring them as close as possible but letting his partner retain control of the kiss.
One hand cupping Viggo’s jaw, Orlando urged his lover to open his mouth, letting their tongues tangle in a sensual battle so much more pleasurable than any they had fought side by side. Not releasing Viggo’s mouth, he sank to his knees on the blanket, bringing them to a half-reclining position. The kiss might have continued unabated, might have morphed into something far more intense, but Viggo’s stomach rumbled, reminding Orlando of the picnic he had prepared. “If you will light the fire, my dear Ranger, I will lay out our repast. There is a fire kit next to the wood.”
Drawing back reluctantly from the kiss, Viggo hid a smile as he noted that Orlando's desire for authenticity apparently didn't extend to trusting his Ranger skills to start the fire - a box of wooden matches from a local pub sat next to the stack of firewood. "Your lips are repast enough for me, my love," he answered, making short work of lighting the fire and returning hopefully to the Elf's side.
Orlando smiled, a hint of his own mischievousness peaking through. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I fear your stomach would disagree,” he chided gently, pulling out a tray of sliced fruit with a rich chocolate dip in the center. He dipped a piece of pineapple in the thick sauce and lifted it to Viggo’s lips. “You should eat,” he urged. “You will need your strength for later.”
"I like the sound of that," Viggo rumbled, his lips closing around the sweet morsel and lingering on Orlando's even sweeter fingers. "Delicious," he decided, holding the deceptively strong hand between his roughened ones and trailing kisses over the knuckles. "I would fain have more of it."
“It will be my pleasure,” Orlando promised, selecting a strawberry slice this time, coating it in chocolate before holding it to his lover’s mouth. A drip of the sauce fell as the berry crossed Viggo’s lips. Orlando’s eyes sparkled as he bent his head to suckle at the Ranger’s jaw, licking away every hint of the sweet syrup.
Feeling Orlando's lips against the stubble on his chin, Viggo was tempted to wrap his fingers in the silken blond hair and plunder his lover's mouth, but he held himself back with effort. It would be easy to lose themselves in the fervor of lovemaking, but the luxury to savor moments like this one were all too rare. He reached for a slice of kiwi, dipping it in the decadent coating and offering it to Orlando in turn. "You have taken nothing for yourself," he urged.
Orlando’s tongue darted out to capture the fruit and chocolate, teasing the tips of Viggo’s fingers as he did. “I preferred to take care of you first,” he explained when he had swallowed the delicious treat. “Would you enjoy a glass of my father’s finest with our meal?”
"You have always cared for me first," Viggo answered, the feel of Orlando's tongue on his fingertips lighting a fire of a different kind inside him. "But I would enjoy a glass of wine. I appreciate everything that comes from your father's kingdom," he added in a low voice.
“I will always care for you first,” Orlando swore, Legolas’ serene mask slipping for a moment as he made his promise, wanting Viggo to hear those words as clearly as Aragorn did. Their eyes met and Orlando saw understanding in the depths of his lover’s cerulean gaze. Sliding back into his role, he reached for the bottle of Pinot Noir he’d bought from a local wine merchant. Uncorking the bottle and pouring two glasses, he handed one to Viggo. “Is it not a tradition among Men to lift one’s glass in a sign of the hope of things to come?”
"There is such a tradition," Viggo agreed, taking the glass from his lover's hand. He knew what he hoped for - what he'd hoped for even when he'd hesitated to admit it to himself - and Orlando's words made him believe the younger man was beginning to share that feeling. "I would share all the times to come with you," he pledged, hoping Orlando understood that Viggo was speaking beneath Aragorn's words.
“That has been my desire since the first time we kissed,” Orlando replied fervently. He had no idea when Legolas and Aragorn might have first kissed, but he remembered his first kiss with Viggo vividly: dancing in one of Wellington’s many clubs, their bodies brushing against each other as they moved, until Viggo’s lips had closed over his and kissed his breath away.
Viggo remembered that first kiss, too, and the pull of Orlando's words, the desire to crush Orlando's lips to his was almost more than he could resist. He knew, though, that once he began, he would not be able to pull away as he had done that first intoxicating night. Deciding to stay with a safer draught for the present, he lifted his glass to the one Orlando held. "To sharing the times to come together," he said softly, his eyes meeting Orlando's as their glasses met with a crystalline chime.
“Until the Doom of Men separates us,” Orlando offered, the words in Legolas’ mouth a vow the Elf would have no trouble keeping. He was not so naïve as to believe that it would be so simple for Viggo and himself, but he knew what he wanted, and that was this man.
The wine left a bitter taste in Viggo's mouth as he contemplated Orlando's toast. They might not face the separation Aragorn and Legolas would endure, but they would be parted eventually all the same, once filming ended. He knew that time and distance would make no difference to his feelings, but he firmly believed that these movies would make Orlando a star. They were living in a fantasy world every bit as unreal as Tolkien's creation here in New Zealand. How could he expect Orlando to tie himself down to an old recluse like himself once they were back in the real world? He took a deeper drink of his wine, his spirits darkening along with his thoughts.
Not realizing the turn Viggo’s thoughts were taking, Orlando took a sip of his wine and set the glass aside, looking in the basket for the other snacks he’d packed. He drew out a round of Camembert and some water crackers. “Would you prefer something a little less sweet for a change, meleth?” Orlando asked.
"Aye, that will be fine," Viggo answered, trying to recapture the mood which had escaped him. Orlando was here now, and Viggo would not sacrifice any of the time they had together brooding over what was to come.
Orlando opened the wrapping on the cheese and spread the crackers out on a plate. He cut a bite and offered the cheese and a cracker to Viggo. “Here you are,” he said, lifting the snack to his lover’s lips.
Viggo took the offered tidbit, turning his head so Orlando's hand brushed his cheek. A swell of love caught in his chest, and he lifted his hand to capture Orlando's when it would have withdrawn. "'Tis not food I am hungry for, meleth," he rasped, his voice thickened with desire.
Orlando laughed, still using Legolas’ cultured tones. “And so once again you reduce my hard work in planning an outdoor gathering to naught with your impatience,” he teased. His words, though, were not enough to stop him from setting aside the treats he had brought so that he could move closer to his lover’s body.
As soon as the food was safely out of the way, Viggo reached for Orlando, pulling the Elf forward to straddle his hips. "You should be accustomed to my impatience by now," he replied in Aragorn's deeper tone. "After all, you did bring a blanket."
“You have made sure I am well-practiced,” Orlando teased, his hands sliding down Viggo’s chest, stroking languidly over the strong muscles he loved so well.
"I have not an Elf's natural talent," Viggo countered, leaning back on one elbow to encourage Orlando's attentions, while he gave in to the temptation to thread the other through Legolas' ethereal hair. "As a mere Man, I require frequent practice to hone my skills."
“You will not hear me complaining,” Orlando assured him, thinking how ironic Viggo’s comment was, given Orlando’s relative inexperience when their relationship began. “Not when I am the beneficiary of both the practice and the results.” His palms settled over Viggo’s nipples, kneading at them through the thick fabric of Aragorn’s tunic.
The brush of the rough-spun fabric over his chest drew a growl of pleasure from Viggo's throat. He twitched his hips beneath Orlando's weight, the press of his erection inside his leather leggings already uncomfortably tight. With his free hand, he pulled apart the tie to the archer's jerkin, baring the silken blue tunic beneath. Sliding his palm under the leather vest, he mirrored Orlando's touch on the more willowy torso. "Like this?"
“Most definitely,” Orlando replied, his breath catching on a gasp as Viggo’s talented fingers sent his head spinning. Determined to maintain at least a modicum of Elvish control, he worked open the leather of Aragorn’s outer tunic, his fingers sliding beneath the loose shirt to find hair-roughened skin.
Though the silk of Legolas' tunic was satiny under his palms, Viggo knew Orlando's skin was even smoother. Pushing the outer tunic off the Elf's shoulders, his hands slid lower to loosen the tie of the archer's leggings, burrowing beneath the tunic to find the warm, silky flesh he craved.
Orlando lifted his hips, allowing Viggo to more easily slide his clothing out of the way. He had planned a slow seduction, but that never seemed to happen, regardless of whose skin they were inhabiting. One kiss, one touch, and all their restraint disappeared, leaving only passion in its wake.
At Orlando's responsiveness to his touch, Viggo's restraint kindled and flared like the dry wood of their fire. He hadn't meant to push things this quickly, but soon even having all of Orlando's bare skin to caress wasn't enough. He pulled the Elf down against his chest, reveling in the length of his body pressing against skin wherever the Ranger's leathers had been pushed aside. He couldn't let go of Orlando long enough to finish removing his own costume - he settled for raising his head to meet Orlando's lips in an endless kiss.
Orlando desired Viggo’s kiss like he desired his next breath of air, but he needed more than that. He needed Viggo’s body naked beneath him, against him, adding to the ecstasy that was already building. “Let me undress you, meleth,” he pleaded, tearing his lips from the Ranger’s long enough to speak.
"Hurry, then, melethen." Aragorn must have answered, because Viggo was beyond speech, slaking the loss of Orlando's mouth by pressing warm, moist kisses to every patch of skin he could reach.
Orlando reared up long enough to strip the remaining garments from both their bodies. He reached quickly in the basket and retrieved the little tube he had hidden there, returning to lie atop his lover, skin to heated skin. The bottle, he pressed into Viggo’s hand. “Make love to me, melethron,” he requested, his lips finding the sensitive curve of Viggo’s shoulder.
Setting the bottle to one side, Viggo reclaimed Orlando's lips, his hands encircling the younger man to stroke over the sleek planes of his back. He had every intention of loving Orlando, but now that he had him where he wanted him, he was going to touch and taste and sate his hunger for the Elf's body first.
Orlando shivered under Viggo’s sensual assault, a reaction he had come to know well in the time they had been lovers. Despite his own insistence that he didn’t need to be seduced, it was an art his lover practiced on him regularly. He tried to return the attention, but Viggo hijacked his senses so completely that he rarely succeeded. Tonight, though, he hoped it would be different. After all, tonight, he was Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, renowned for his coolness under fire. Viggo’s hands urged him upward and his lover’s lips closed around one nipple. All thoughts of coolness and reserve evaporated, leaving him his usual quivering pile of lust.
The salty-sweet taste of taste of Orlando's skin was richer than any fruit, more intoxicating than any wine. Viggo's lips wandered down the slim torso, pausing to feast on the brighter colors of the sun tattoo before slaking his thirst in the well of Orlando's navel. His lover's abdomen tightened and trembled beneath his mouth, the mewls of pleasure he was drawing forth only increasing his hunger for more.
On hands and knees, Orlando scooted further up Viggo’s body, offering himself for his lover’s pleasure. He wanted a thousand things at once, all of them revolving around Viggo’s hands and mouth on his body. “Please,” he whispered, not sure what he was asking for, not caring if he got it, as long as Viggo didn’t stop.
"Always," Viggo promised, following the faint trail of hair until his lips nuzzled the curls at the base of Orlando's cock. "Always, meleth." The graceful shaft jumped as his tongue traced its length, swirling through the pearly liquid that had pooled at its tip. Lapping up the saline nectar, he slid his lips around the smooth head, loving the sensation of wet silk against his palate.
Orlando’s arms and legs trembled unsteadily when Viggo’s mouth closed around the tip of his cock. He groaned deep in his throat, locking his elbows to try and stay upright. His hips rocked gently toward Viggo’s lips, wanting to feel more of the moist heat but not yet so lost to passion that he forgot his care for his lover.
Feeling Orlando trembling against him, Viggo wrapped his arms around his lover's hips, holding him steady and pulling him closer, taking more of his length into his mouth until the head brushed the back of his throat. There had never been anything as sweet as this, no one who had ever made him as fevered, as greedy as Orlando did. He wanted to consume him, take him inside and make him part of his body the way he was already part of his soul. Swallowing around the delicacy that filled his mouth, he suckled and swirled his tongue, thirsty to drink down Orlando's essence.
“If you continue like this,” Orlando gasped, Legolas’ voice coming out more from instinct than from choice, “I will not last.” Viggo knew his weakness, knew how much it excited him to have his cock engulfed this way. If this was how his Ranger wanted the evening to go, Orlando would certainly not complain, but he wanted to give Viggo the choice.
Viggo slid the slender shaft from his lips, his fingers gliding down between Orlando's cheeks to play over the furled rosette. "Let go for me, my Prince," he husked, licking his lips and running his tongue across the leaking slit. "Let me taste your sweetness." With a hum of pleasure, he returned to the blissful task of bringing his Elf to a state of mindless euphoria.
Orlando gave up fighting his release. There was no point in that endeavor, not when Viggo had asked for it. He was not sure he could have succeeded in any case, not with his lover’s fingers playing suggestively across his entrance. His head dropped between his shoulders as he came with a heartfelt groan. “Love you,” he gasped as he filled Viggo’s mouth.
The thirst Orlando's release helped slake was only temporarily abated - a lifetime wouldn't be enough to satisfy him, Viggo realized. Swallowing around the softening cock, he continued to suckle it gently, drawing out every last drop and every shudder of reaction. Finally satisfied that he’d wrung Orlando dry, he sat back and looked up at his lover with still-hungry eyes. "I would have more," he murmured.
“What would you, my liege?” Orlando asked, looking down at his lover. “Shall I return the favor? Or is there something else you would prefer?”
"I would prefer..." Viggo sat back on his heels, a small smile stretching his lips, "... never to hear you call me "liege". You are a Prince yourself, as I need not remind you, of a realm far older than Gondor. Between us there is no rank, no protocol." He brought one of the graceful hands to his lips, then pressed it to his chest, speaking his deepest desire in the Ranger’s voice.. "Only love me, meleth - that is what I would prefer."
“I do love you,” Orlando promised. “Shall I show you how much?” As he spoke, he reached for the lube, squeezing some onto his fingers.
"Show me," Viggo agreed, settling back onto his elbows on the blanket. "All that I have, all that I am is yours."
Orlando’s smile deepened as he reached behind himself, sliding one finger, then two through the tight ring of muscle that guarded his passage. He stretched himself quickly, wanting to replace his digits with Viggo’s cock as quickly as possible. When his minimal preparation was finished, he ran his hand over his lover’s shaft and lifted it so he could take it into his body, sliding down slowly until their groins met.
Of all the ways he and Orlando made love, Viggo thought maybe this was best - when his lover took control and he could let his own need spiral unchecked. "So good," he moaned, his hips rocking upward to seek even more of the heated embrace.
Orlando tried to form a coherent response, but words were beyond him. Instead, he simply bucked his hips faster, taking Viggo more urgently inside him. “Need you,” he husked, the feeling of his lover’s cock hitting his prostate enough to have him hard and aching again. “Touch me.”
"Here," Viggo answered, his own voice tight with the fever growing each time Orlando clenched around him. He ran his hands up the flat planes of Orlando's abdomen, one pausing to caress the sun tattoo as the other continued up to tease at the dark, flat nipples, "Always here..."
“Everywhere,” Orlando replied, his hands mimicking Viggo’s, trailing over peaked nipples and down to tug at the hairs of his lover’s treasure trail. He traced the outline of Viggo’s tattoo, the perfect counterpoint to his own, as they were the perfect counterpoint one to the other. “Always.” Angling his body back, he reached behind him to palm Viggo’s sacs, rolling them between his fingers with ardent enthusiasm.
His heart beating in time with the pulse of Orlando's body around his, Viggo threw his head back and gasped at Orlando's seductive touch. "Meleth," he panted, "love you, melethen..."
“Melin chen,” Orlando replied, his fingers slipping lower to play around Viggo’s entrance. This was a path they had not taken before, but Orlando was feeling incredibly bold, inhabiting Legolas’ skin. Maybe Orlando had never topped Viggo, but he couldn’t imagine that Legolas had never enjoyed the seductive warmth of Aragorn’s body. “Come for me,” he urged.
Orlando's fingers were exploring where they'd never ventured before, and the sudden image of Orlando making love to him sent Viggo soaring into a shuddering climax. His hands clenched around his lover's slender hips, his own pumping in a staccato rhythm as he filled Orlando with his heat.
The rush of warmth that flooded him triggered Orlando’s climax as well, his cock twitching as it disgorged itself all over Viggo’s stomach. Completely unmindful of the mess, Orlando slumped forward, his lips seeking Viggo’s blindly. When they met, he joined them in a tender, loving kiss, affirming all the promises he had made as Legolas.
Orlando's weight on his chest was a burden Viggo would never tire of bearing. His hands settling around the small of Orlando's back, he gave himself over to their slow, languid kisses.
“Thank you for indulging me tonight,” Orlando murmured between kisses, his hands stroking leisurely, more for the simple contact than with any intention of arousing.
"If that was indulging you, remind me to do it more often," Viggo replied with a slow smile. "Believe me, the pleasure was mine."
Orlando chuckled. “I really meant coming out here and the role playing,” he explained, “although you can indulge me with a good shagging anytime you feel like it.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a soft sigh. “I don’t want this to ever end.”
Orlando's words struck a spark of hope in Viggo's heart. Maybe there was a chance of making this last, if they both felt the same way - he realized that whatever the outcome, he had to take the chance. Reaching for the pouch Aragorn wore on his belt, Viggo pulled out the small velvet bag he'd been carrying around for the last few weeks. He offered it to Orlando with a hesitant smile.
“What’s this?” he asked, a delighted grin spreading across his face at the thought of a present, any present, from Viggo.
Viggo couldn't help but smile at Orlando's eager expression. "I didn't come here expecting to find love," he said in a quiet voice. "Finding you, finding that you loved me - it's more than I'd ever hoped for. I don't know where we go from here, but wherever it is, I want to go there together."
More confused than before, Orlando opened the bag, dumping the contents into his hand. A silver ring landed on his palm. Surprised, he looked up at Viggo. The urge to make a joke was strong, but he resisted it, examining the metal band carefully. When he saw Legolas’ – his – words inscribed on the inside, all silliness disappeared. “To wherever it may lead,” he murmured, looking up to meet Viggo’s eyes.
“That’s where we’ll go,” Viggo finished. “Just so long as we go there together.”
Orlando’s smile was radiant. “Together.”
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Date: 2006-09-14 01:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-14 04:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-14 11:01 am (UTC)and I mean
I love the whole series but this one, this game, is special. Feels special --full of promises and beautiful words *happy sigh*
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Date: 2006-09-14 03:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-15 07:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 01:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 02:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 02:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-21 02:02 am (UTC)