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He thinks that maybe the days of trudging over hill and through brush to the sound of her bawdy off-key tavern songs may all be worth it when he finally catches sight of her.
She stands alone under the gentle hush of a waterfall, the tangled branches of the trees seem to form a natural frame around the scene. As though some artist carefully hand plucked the pieces to silhouette their latest creation.
The waters run in rivulets down the length of bare figure, sluicing over the curve of her hips and down the battle scarred skin of her calves. Ocean hued gaze sliding over every inch as though committing it to memory, partially worried some uruk hai had bludgeoned his skull hard enough to spawn hallucinations.
“You’re not particularly quiet, son of Arathorn.”
The sound of her voice makes him startle, the high points of his cheeks reddening slightly in spite of himself.
He steps out from his branch shielded spot, her warm eyes crinkling with amusement when she finally sees him fully in the moonlight.
“Spying on a fellow warrior?” Her tone is teasing and though he still remains a distance away from her, he can see the arch of a delicate brow above the constellation of freckles dotting her cheeks.
“I would call it appreciating the work of the divine, but yes, I suppose spying as well,” his attention never leaves her face and even from his spot at the water’s edge he can see her flush.
His jaw clenched involuntarily when she stepped through the gauzy haze of water shading her figure and stood bare as the day she was born before him. Crystalline eyes flowing ever dip and curve like a lover’s caress before finally moving back to meet her eyes.
“ The divine? ” She breathes softly, her head tilting with the question. Her tone is a light tease, simply watching him watch her.
He steps into the shallow creek before her, each step slow and calculated. His tread is the same one would use before a frightened animal, worried each step closer would be the one to send her vanishing into the night.
“Could you fault me for it?”
She’s studying his face in the moon glow, wondering not for the first time how she’s ended up here. Each smile and word and touch lead her here to standing bare before the king of kings.
She’s still often confused on how exactly she captured his attention, cheeks pinkening at the idea of running into him when she was just a tavern girl. Would he still think her divine with her ale stained hands and frizzy hair?
“After this long in the Wilds, any man would stare.” Her voice is gentled, tamed, when she steps back under the rush of water. The curtain of it obscured her body to his eyes again.
He feels the closure in her voice, brow furrowing at the dismissal of her own beauty. Sure, it had been months alone with only the four of them - her being the only woman. But he’d find her stunning anywhere at any time.
She challenged him and infuriated him in equal measure. Her laugh was loud and her smile was like the sun. She had a fondness of tavern songs that made his nerves strain; yet, her precision with a sword had saved their lives on more than one occasion.
He believes Legolas had said he was enchanted by her. Astute.
“I am not any man,” he replied evenly though the beginnings of a smile quirked the corners of his lips.
She turns, stepping partially out of the flow of water with her back to him. His focus immediately flickers to the curve of her ass, wondering not for the first time how exactly he can find a way to sink his teeth into it.
“ Oh, you aren’t? ” There’s a feminine amusement in her tone that draws his eyes quickly back to her face.
Caught.
His throat clears, daring to take one step closer to her. The damp curls the edges of his hair and she has to tamp down the impulse to pet the ends with her fingers. He’s looking at her the way he’d done when she said she’d join them, reverence .
“How can I prove it to you?” He doesn’t define the it that he’s referring to, but she can glean the thousands of definitions for it within his tone.
How can I prove this isn’t just petty words?
“Kneel.”
It fled her soft lips before the thought really even occurred to say it. It seems to startle her almost as much as it does him before she masks it with a confidence she doesn’t particularly feel.
Warm bourbon eyes snag his gaze and see something dangerous flash across them. Her throat tightening as he slowly falls to one knee and then the other.
When he looks up at her, she has to smother the gasp that threatens to leave her. He looks like every warm dark thing you could ever possibly crave. His hair now raining gentle drops of water down the scruff of his jaw, she craves to kiss them away. He looks up to her, crystalline eyes almost fathomless dark in the moonlight. Calloused hands rest docile on his knees, tamed .
She steps even closer, fully out of the flow of water. A passerby might’ve thought she was some lady of the lake bestowing favor onto a knight of old. His head tips down to look at her, eyes level with the soft curve of her stomach. An exhale curls over her water slick skin, leaving soft goose bumps in its wake.
He shifts and for a moment, she thinks he may lean forward and drag his tongue along the water droplets running across her skin. He seems to think better on it, swaying back slightly from the temptation.
Her gentle fingers come under his jaw, scruff prickling her fingers as she gently directs him to look up at her again. His adam's apple moves with his careful swallow, gaze searing into her own.
“ Beg me, ” she breathes quietly.
It strikes her how incredibly foolhardy she must be when she watches that same careful darkness move across his expression. Like a sort of warning foretelling her own ruin. A snatch of an old saying runs through her mind.
What’s a king to a god?
Roughened hands move upward, sliding worshipfully up her calves to grip at the backs of her thighs. He leans into her fully now, nosing across her stomach before moving down and sucking a kiss to the thin skin between the jut of her hip bone and the curve at the apex of her thighs.
Her head tips back at the feeling, breath sticking in her chest. A delicate hand raises to burrow into the hair at the base of his head.
“ Please ,” it’s so quiet that it’s practically lost to the fall of water behind her. She’s only sure of it because of the way it’s mouthed into her skin. “Let me take care of you.”
This is louder than the plea, almost a groan as his hands slid back down to rest at the bend of her knee. Simply moving for the sake of motion, restless.
“I could worship you if you’d only let me,” the gravel of his voice has her thighs shifting against one another in his grip. Something that doesn’t escape his notice, the motion prying a gentle hum out of him.
His head inclines further, curve of his nose nudging against where her thighs are pressed together at the apex. His smooth lips parting against the skin there, where he can just barely taste her.
“ Let me, ” it’s whispered into her skin in a way that has her trembling.
She’s so wet that she would’ve had half a mind to be a bit embarrassed about it if she didn’t have the king of men kneeling at her thighs with an expression so genuine it robs her of breath.
Her head nods shakily, quick and repeated which must’ve been exactly what he was looking for because he was on her before a moment had even fully passed.
Calloused hands on her hips guiding her back through the sluice of water into the cracked stone behind it. His smooth lips finding her own like he was starved of it.
The kisses are rough and biting, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth whilst his hands haphazardly shed his shirt. It’s tossed somewhere to the side, she moans into his mouth when her hands find his bare chest.
He’s warm and slick with water, breaking his kiss to trail bites down her neck while she sucks in a gasp of breath.
The brunet quickly falls to his knees again, tracing kisses down her figure as he moves. He stops only once to suck kisses on both nipples before continuing his path downward. His fingers guiding one of her thighs up and onto his shoulder.
There’s no ceremony or warning before his tongue drags across the length of her slit. A broad flat stripe that touches the entirety of her whilst she shudders and lets out a whine.
“Fuck,” it’s groaned against her before another long drag of his tongue. “So wet for me, little one.”
His voice sounds raw and awestruck in a way that has her clenching around nothing, desperate for anything he’d give her.
“Tastes just as sweet as I thought,” he breathes lowly. His lips moving to suck a kiss around her clit, two fingers teased through her wetness before he slides his middle one into her completely. The sensation steals away her ability to do anything, but nod fervently.
He pumps his finger in and out to the rhythm that he sucks against her clit, her head falling back against the stone wall at the feeling of it.
“My pretty girl.”
Her only response is a whine and she can feel his smile against her skin. His finger curls slightly hitting a spot that makes her writhe against his hold. He pumps a second one into her and shushes the responding whimpers she gives him for it.
Her hips pitch up into him when he suddenly removes his fingers, leaving her empty and aching. His slick fingers dug into the skin of her thigh when he buried his face against her.
His tongue curls into her, nose bumping against her clit when he licks the length of her. He hits a spot that makes her moan louder, flexing his tongue against it repeatedly.
“ There ,” she whines. Her back arching to try and press herself further onto his face. His scruff is burning against her thighs and she thinks she might become addicted to the feeling of it. “ Please, Aragorn. ”
His thumb finds her clit, rubbing tight circles above where his tongue fucks her. The release comes on slowly, sparking against her stomach and burning down though her limbs whilst she whines loudly and drags his nails against his scalp.
He moans into her as he licks her through it, swallowing down her taste and wondering how he could find a way to spend the remainder of his days here.
“Is that worshipful enough for you?” He asks with his lips pressed against her inner thigh, rubbing his face against her with all the self satisfaction of a cat sunning himself.
She rewards him with a breathless laugh, warm eyes sparkling down at him. “I don’t know, show me again.”
His responding smile is boyish, nipping at her thigh. “ Don’t tempt me ,” there’s enough warning in his tone that she can’t hide her shiver.
She’s pulling her thigh from his shoulder, much to his dismay. Her fingers falling under the line of his jaw like she’d done moments ago, gently guiding him to stand against her. His hands fall to the stone on either side of her body, effectively pining her there.
Her hands pull him in, soft lips kissing away the taste of herself on his lips. When he pulls back she can see the wetness glistening on his jaw in the moon glow and it has her rubbing her thighs together again.
Calloused fingers move lazily to the apex of her thighs, parting them to trace two fingers softly through her wetness. He hums at her responding gasp, delighting in the way she digs her nails into his shoulders.
“Turn around.”
It’s a gravelly rumbled command in her ear, not at all waiting for her to comply before he’s maneuvering her himself.
A shiver runs through her entire body, wondering how this man can smile into her skin and darkly give her an order all in the same breath. She thinks she might be a little bit in love with him and a lotta bit horribly ruined for anyone else.
A heavy hand lays flat into her upper back, pressing until her chest is flat to the stone. The other hand curls around her hip, gently pulling them towards him. He’s pulling and pushing until she’s leaned with her cheek to the stone and her hips pulled back against his own.
She hears a contented noise leave his smooth lips, his hand drifted to trace over the curve of her ass. There’s a gentle squeeze then before her lips can part to hurry him, she feels his teeth sinking into the right cheek. It will undoubtedly leave a mark, a claim.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.”
A smile is heard in his tone, her head tilting to find his gaze already on her face. He doesn’t break the stare when he leans in to kiss away the sting of his teeth.
The blush on her cheeks colors all the way down her neck and she has to look away from him to stave it off.
A hand slides softly up her hip, fingers digging into the skin in a way that’ll leave her aching there tomorrow. Though she anticipates it, she still gasps when he runs the head of his length along the length of her.
It makes a slick sound even she can hear over the fall of water behind them, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. He pushes in slightly and she whines, trying to clench around him.
“ Easy ,” he breathes into her ear. His breath warmed the skin of her neck and caused a shudder to roll down her spine. “You can take it.”
Her head pitches back onto his shoulder when he slides in completely in one smooth motion. There’s a tremble in her thighs from the need to move against him. His nose nudges the hinge of her jaw, a ragged sound like a cross between a groan and a prayer leaving his smooth lips.
A calloused hand slides up and around her throat, simply holding her to him. It’s all she can do to just stand there, filled with him. She’s trying to move against him, do anything to prompt him into moving. But the hand at her throat squeezes gently to still her.
“ Beg me .”
His voice is so dark and ragged that an involuntary whimper crackles in her throat. Once his words truly settle in her, she thinks he might actually be the devil incarnate.
“Please,” she whispers, a sound that’s half plea and half sob. Her hips try to shift into him, but the hand clasping her hip stills her with a force like iron.
His lips still drift along the sensitive skin of her neck and she can feel the beginnings of a smirk curling the edge of them. There’s a soft bite there and then,
“ Louder .”
At that she really does let out a keen, trying to writhe back onto him, but the hand she’s still solidly wearing as a necklace prevents her from really doing so.
She thinks she might fucking cry.
“Aragorn, please . I promise I’ll do whatever you ask whenever you ask it. I’ll be so good for you I swear, please.” It flows from her quicker than the fall of the creek behind them, practically running all into one word. “I’ll be yours . I’ll be good, please .”
Her sentiments are cut off when the drag of his hips, a soft whoosh of breath leaving her when he slides back into her.
“There she is,” his words are muffled against her skin. It’s the only warning she gets before he begins a rhythm that robs her of any coherent thoughts.
The hand around her throat slides back into her hair, winding the wet strands around his fist. There’s a gentle tug that has her completely tense against him, falling heavier into the push of his hips.
He groans at the sight of her, submitting easily as if she’d always done so. Her soft lips are parted in gentle pants, cheeks ruddy and damp with the water or sweat or some divine mixture of both.
His pace quickens, cursing when she flutters around him. Calloused fingers finally release her hip to drift around and rub tight little circles around her clit. A sob bubbles from her throat, trying to writhe away from him and only serving to press her hips further back into his own.
There’s a breathless laugh that rumbles in his chest against the skin of her back. “Come on, pretty girl.” The endearment has her tightening around him, faltering his rhythm for a moment at the sensation.
“Are you going to give me what I want?”
It’s spoken like a dare, like a promise. Her hips press back into his as his pace becomes harder. The thrusts of it become rough in a way that makes her eyes flutter shut. His smooth lips once again brushing against the shell of her ear, fingers now tightening the passes around her clit.
“Show me how you look when you fall apart,” his voice is so warm against her she can hardly breathe. He can tell she’s close by the way she’s clenching down onto him.
“Cum for me.”
It’s as if the permission pushed her over the edge, or maybe it was the sound of his voice gravelly and harsh in her ear.
The command of a king.
She cries out softly against him, trembling and tensing in a way that has him praying any and every prayer he can think of. It takes him with her, thrusting roughly against her with a groan. His face falling into her hair as he tenses. He stills with his hips flush against her own, filling her while she shivers and curses under her breath at the feeling.
When she finally catches her breath, she feels him nosing along her jaw for what must be the thousandth time that evening. It prompts a smile from her that he can feel even from his place tucked against her, and it inspires one of his own.
“ Found a new favorite place? ” Her question is soft and back to that tease he had heard when he first found her bathing. It has him trying to think of ways to hear more of it.
“Yes,” he hums. His hips shift slightly against her own and her cheeks warm significantly. She can tell by the growth of his smile that he knows what she meant and twisted it around anyhow.
His head lifts, smooth lips pressing a slow deliberate kiss to her temple. He slides from her, tucking himself away and spinning her softly to face him despite the shakiness of her legs.
He presses a kiss to her forehead before lowering to catch her lips with his own. This one is slow, unhurried. The kiss of a lover. When he parts from her, he hums at the flush of her cheeks from the attention.
“We’d better get back before Legolas or Gimili comes looking and stumbles upon something they shouldn’t.” The statement is punctuated with a careful knowing look at him before she moves to leave him.
A calloused hand gently snags her wrist, tugging her until her back was flush with his chest once more.
“I haven’t bathed yet,” he murmurs with a smile in his voice. “And your own was interrupted .”
The way he says it has a sparkling laugh erupting from her lips, his grip guiding them back under the fall of water.