Title & Chapter Number: The Hand of the King 11-17/46
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Dalo's Archive
Fandom: Middle Earth
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Characters not mine. I'm just a guy who loves guys loving guys, filling in some gaps, with all due respect to Tolkien.
Warnings: Slash (duh), Angst. Homosexual relationships and acts. Nothing kinky, but definitely down and dirty at times (we're talkin' NC-17, folks). You gotta problem wit dat? Here's a tip: DON'T READ IT!!!
Betas: Elfscribe (Luv ya!)
Cast: Legolas/Aragorn/Boromir/A surprise
Timeline: January 17-20, 3019 Third Age
Spoilers: None
Summary: While recovering from Moria in Lothlórien, the Fellowship discovers a mysterious phenomenon that could threaten the future of all.
Notes: Dedication: "The Hand of the King" was written as an expression of love for my partner, Jon, who at times is my Legolas, and other times my Aragorn. Gerich veleth nín, Jonathan. Thank you for loving me so completely. "My heart will be yours until the end of time."
Chapter 11
Aragorn was barely aware of the activity around him. The hobbits were gleefully exploring the breakfast laid out on the tables. Gimli sat on his couch and stretched, while Boromir moved to the fountain to splash cold water on his face.
The elf sat opposite the table from him, wearing a impish grin. "You really should eat something," he said, offering his plate to the ranger.
Aragorn stared at him in confusion. How could he be sitting there, calmly talking about breakfast, after what had happened last night?
He took the plate from Legolas without looking at it. His eyes were fixed on the elf.
"So, Aragorn, you seem to have cleaned up well," remarked Gimli, as he hopped down from his couch.
"Indeed," agreed Legolas. "Now if we could just get Boromir to bathe, the air might be fit to breathe."
"Gondor men do not concern themselves with such indulgences during times of war," growled Boromir.
"This would explain the adage 'Never attack a Gondorian from down wind,' now wouldn't it?" bantered Gimli.
Legolas laughed as Boromir glared at the dwarf. The elf's laughter made Aragorn's heart beat faster.
"Aragorn?" Frodo was standing at his side, a full plate in hand. "You look flushed. Are you feeling well?"
"Yes," he answered quickly, tearing his eyes from the elf to look at the hobbit. "I am most well. The healing powers of Lothlórien have soothed my soul." He returned his gaze to Legolas. "And body."
"Well, I'm very glad to hear it," mumbled Pippin, his mouth full. He swallowed, and then added, "We've been very worried about you since . . . well, since . . . ."
"Since we left Moria," finished Merry. "You've never been terribly cheerful, Aragorn. But the last few days, you've been even more morose than ever."
"How can you speak of cheer when Gandalf has fallen?" barked Boromir. "By the gods, leave the man alone."
"Boromir . . . " Legolas began.
"No. I do not understand any of you. You act as if nothing has happened." Boromir glared at the group. "Gandalf is dead. How can you laugh when the leader of the Fellowship has fallen?"
No one spoke a word. Aragorn pondered Boromir's words. It was true that grief still hung in the air. But not as heavily as the day before. As hard as he tried to accommodate Boromir by feeling badly, he found he could not.
He returned his attention to the plate of food before him. It all looked and smelled delicious. But with so many choices before him, he was uncertain which to try first. He stared at the plate without moving.
"For the sake of argument, let us say it is true that we are now leaderless," Gimli acquiesced with a curious glance in Aragorn's direction. "What do you suggest as our next objective, Boromir?"
"It is no secret that I believe the ring should be taken to Minas Tirith," proclaimed Boromir. "It is Gondor that we should seek."
"What do you think, Aragorn?" Gimli asked.
Aragorn continued to stare at his plate, unable to decide what to eat.
"I don't care," he said.
All eyes of the Fellowship fell upon him. He felt their stares of incredulity. He didn't care. Let them think and do what they want.
Frodo was visibly shaken. "Aragorn, what do you mean you don't care? Gandalf trusted you. He believed in you. I believe in you."
Legolas spoke. "Aragorn?" He brought his eyes up to meet the elf's. The concern there touched his heart, but not his indifference. All he cared about right now was eating something, anything, for breakfast, and having Legolas wrap his arms around him.
"So what do you suggest I try first?" he asked the elf.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 12
"I don't care," said the ranger.
Legolas had been watching Aragorn stare at his plate. But his eyes widened at the man's statement.
Something was wrong. This didn't sound like Aragorn. He spoke the ranger's name, hoping to rouse him from his reverie. The man looked up at him, the chaos in his grey eyes reaching out for Legolas.
"So what do you suggest I try first?"
Frodo sounded panicked. "Aragorn? Did you hear me?"
The man suddenly stood up, his eyes still locked on Legolas. "I'm going for a walk. Legolas, would you care to join me?"
Legolas wanted desperately to leave with him. To return to their clearing and abandon themselves to each other. But he fortified his resolve.
"I regret, Aragorn, that I have other plans. I go to meet Haldir this morning to discuss my participation in the protection of Lothlórien's borders. I wish to repay the hospitality of the Galadhrim."
"Very well. I will walk alone," the ranger answered, his tone clipped and anxious. Legolas watched with a heavy heart as Aragorn turned and left the pavilion. He had thought this was going to be a lark, but now found his enthusiasm waning. This was going to be more difficult than he had thought.
Frodo, along with everyone else, had watched Aragorn storm out of the pavilion. But now he turned his eyes to Legolas.
"What troubles him? Why is he behaving as if we don't matter to him? That the Fellowship doesn't need him?" The hobbit was clearly agitated.
He reached over and placed a reassuring hand on Frodo's small shoulder. "Do not let it trouble you, Ringbearer. The ranger is unaccustomed to groups of people, spending most of his time in solitude. He simply requires some time alone." He lied. He did not know what troubled Aragorn, but wanted to comfort Frodo and the others.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Sam sneaking away from the pavilion, a full plate of food in hand. He assumed it was to follow Aragorn. Legolas hoped that Sam could ease Aragorn's anxiety. It saddened him to know that the ranger's disquiet was more than likely a direct result of the previous night's activities, the nature of which remained a mystery.
What had he done?
~*~*~*~
Chapter 13
Just a short walk west of the city, Aragorn sat with his back against a young mallorn. He continued to struggle with the conflicting desires of his heart and body. He was betrothed to Arwen. He could not imagine his future without her at his side, and had no wish to.
And yet he yearned for Legolas. The elf had awakened a raw physical passion that he had never felt before.
He remembered meeting the Prince in Rivendell the evening before Elrond's council. Even then he had felt a kinship with the elf. When their hands had touched in greeting, Aragorn had experienced a moment of prescience. These moments had been rare until recently, when they had begun to come upon him with increasing frequency. That day he had seen himself fighting side by side with the elf on the Deeping Wall. He assumed it was a vision of the future, as he had never fought at Helm's Deep, but had only visited the Hornburg when he was serving Thengel in his early adventures away from Imladris. He wondered at the import of that vision.
"Mr. Strider?"
Aragorn looked up to find Sam peeking from behind the trunk of a nearby mallorn.
"I don't mean to intrude, but I brought you some food. You left before you had a chance to . . . ." The hobbit's voice trailed off.
"Thank you, Sam. Come." He patted the ground next to him. "Sit with me." Sam approached and presented the plate to the ranger. Aragorn accepted it, and began to eat as Sam joined him on the soft grass.
He didn't stop to consider what to eat first. He just picked the first thing his fingers touched. The fruit was succulent and tart, and was like oil on the fire of his appetite. He devoured the rest of the food on his plate as Sam watched.
"You don't look like a hobbit, but you have the appetite of one," observed the halfling.
Aragorn turned to look at his friend, who wore a half-hearted smile. Sam appeared a bit apprehensive, seemingly uncertain as to the appropriateness of levity under the current circumstances. Aragorn was moved by the selflessness of the gentle hobbit. He reached forward and, placing his hand behind Sam's head, pulled the hobbit towards him and kissed him on the forehead. Sam's cheeks deepened to a dusky rose, and the hobbit smiled self-consciously.
Aragorn laughed and Sam seemed to relax.
"So, Sam. What do you think of the food here in Lothlórien?"
"Oh, it's wonderful! The tables in Rivendell were most refined, with lots of fancy foods. But here, the dishes are wonderfully simple. Lots of vegetables. I like that. Although they could use some good potatoes."
"Potatoes?"
"Aye, Mr. Strider. Potatoes. Don't you like potatoes?"
"I've never really thought about them one way or another, Sam. I'm sorry."
"Well, think now. If you had a choice, would you like a potato or not?"
"I . . . yes, I'd like a potato."
"There, you see? Everybody likes potatoes. And I'm saying they could use a few here."
"You should taste the dishes of Mirkwood," Aragorn suggested.
"Tasty, are they?"
"The elves of Mirkwood are artists with seasonings and spices. The different flavors dance on the tongue, casting their spells of pleasure and love and peace," mused Aragorn.
"It sounds wonderful," Sam replied. "When this is all over, you'll have to come to Hobbiton. I'll cook you a meal you'll never forget."
"That I doubt not, my friend."
The ranger felt a need to confide in someone. He looked at Sam and concluded that this hobbit was the most likely of the Fellowship, save Legolas, to keep his counsel.
"Sam, can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Sam replied.
"Have you ever been in love?"
"Excuse me?"
"Have you ever been in love?" Aragorn repeated.
"That's a mighty personal question, there, Mr. Strider."
"My apologies for being so direct, but I seek your counsel, and haven't the patience for formalities. I am hoping you will trust the motives behind my question. I ask again, good Sam, have you ever been in love?"
Sam hesitated for a moment and then confessed, "There's a lass back home named Rosie."
"Rosie?"
"Yes, Rose Cotton, and a beauty of a girl she is, too."
"Indeed?"
"She grows the most fragrant garden in all of Hobbiton. Everybody thinks so. She takes petals from different flowers and brews them together to create the sweetest perfumes."
"She is aware of your affections?"
"Oh, no!" The hobbit appeared mortified at the thought. "Mr. Frodo keeps encouraging me to tell her how I feel, but I've never mustered the courage to say anything save compliments on her garden."
"Perhaps gardening is the common ground in which the two of you can grow a future together," Aragorn prophesied.
"Perhaps. That is if we survive this quest and I'm able to find my way home."
They lapsed into a silence.
Aragorn would never have asked his next question before. But today he felt an unusual antipathy towards communal judgment and pressed on.
"Have you ever had feelings for someone outside of your reach, say . . . for another of your own gender?" he asked.
Sam's look of shock would have been humorous, were it not for the gravity of the question. Aragorn instantly regretted asking it.
"I apologize," he said. "I should have known that Rosie was the only one to hold the keys to your heart."
Sam's expression softened a bit. "Well, I never said *that*."
"What are you saying, Sam?"
"No, no, no, no. You're not the only one who gets to ask questions here. Before I tell you any more, you have to tell me something."
"Very well. What do you wish to know?"
Sam paused, pondering the question. Aragorn saw the answer form behind Sam's eyes, and then the hobbit asked, "Why did you leave the pavilion this morning?"
Aragorn took a moment to form his own answer.
"I had a dream. It involved 'relations' between myself and another male. The dream haunted me this morning, and I wished to be alone to sort through my thoughts."
"Then why did you ask Legolas to join you?" the hobbit asked innocently. A moment later, the answer came to him. "Ooohhhhh. I see."
"What do you see, halfling?"
"Your dream was about Legolas, wasn't it?"
Aragorn hesitated.
"Mr. Strider?"
"Yes, you're right. It was about Legolas."
"Well, you needn't be embarrassed by that, Mr. Strider. The elves are an exceedingly fair race. And in Rivendell, I heard Legolas described as one of the fairest of his kind. You'd have to be blind not to find his appearance pleasing."
Pleasing. An understatement, to be sure. He attempted to return the focus of the conversation back onto the hobbit. "I have answered your question. Now it is your turn. Who else besides Rose Cotton has a claim upon your most generous and kind heart?"
Sam lowered his eyes to the ground and said nothing. Aragorn had a sudden realization.
"Sam! Is it Frodo?"
Sam reached for the empty plate. "So are you still hungry, Mr. Strider?" He started to stand up, but Aragorn stopped him with a hand on the top of the hobbit's head.
"Sam?"
"What business is it of yours, anyway? Why are you so curious about affairs of the heart? Aren't you betrothed to the Lady Arwen?"
Aragorn did not answer, but watched as Sam put the pieces of the puzzle into place.
"Oh, my goodness. It's Legolas, isn't it? You're in love with Legolas!"
"No! I mean, maybe . . . . I don't know," Aragorn stammered.
"Well, if that doesn't beat all," Sam exclaimed. "What a curious picture that paints. Him all clean and fair, and you all . . . well, you're clean now."
"This isn't funny, hobbit," chided Aragorn.
"No, Mr. Strider. I'm sorry. It's not."
"I've confessed my feelings for Legolas to you. Now I ask you to share with me your feelings for the Ringbearer."
"When you put it like that, it sounds like I've got a wee girl's crush on him,' protested Sam.
"Well, explain to me the difference," Aragorn prodded.
"Very well. But then you must tell me more of your dream of Legolas."
"We shall see if your tale deserves another, Mr. Gamgee. Now tell on."
"All right, all right. Let's see. My father tended the garden at Bag End. That's where Mr. Bilbo lived. Now Mr. Frodo came to live in Bag End the very year I was born, so I've known Mr. Frodo my whole life. I've always been very fond of him. He treats me like I'm special."
At this the hobbit appeared a bit embarrassed. "You may not know this, Mr. Strider, but I am not known for my quick wit."
"By whose estimation?"
"Everyone's. That's why I spent so much time with my dad at Bag End. Mr. Bilbo's stories were so exciting, and he had the largest garden in Hobbiton."
"What about Frodo?" asked Aragorn, attempting to steer the hobbit to a point.
"Mr. Frodo was always nice. Always smiling. But he had a sadness behind his smile, even when he would laugh. I suppose that would come from being an orphan. I always wanted to give him a big hug. To try to cheer him up, you know?"
"The other kids would walk by Bag End and laugh at me. I guess I probably did look a sight, all dirtied up and all. But Mr. Frodo would shoo them away, and then say to me, "Don't listen to them, Sam. You're capable of great things. I can see it in your eyes."
Sam paused for a moment, then he drew himself up and took a deep breath.
"That was when I first loved Mr. Frodo. Of course, so much has changed since then."
"What has changed?" asked the ranger.
"Are you daft? Look at where we are! We sit in the realm of the elves! We've journeyed through the lost mines of Moria, and have lived to tell of it. And Mr. Frodo has been put through so much. I worry about him. It's too much for a hobbit to bear."
Aragorn wanted to reassure the halfling. "From what I have seen, the responsibilities of Ringbearer suit him well. His heart is strong and true. And if I'm not mistaken," and at this he took Sam's chin in his hand, forcing the hobbit's eyes to his own, "he does not bear his burden alone."
"That may be, Mr. Strider. I hope you're right."
He released Sam's chin and patted the hobbit's cheek. "So what of your love for Frodo now? Where does your heart stand?"
"My love and admiration grows with each new adventure we share. He is the bravest hobbit I've ever known. Or even heard of. And you know what? I think he cares for me as well."
"I'm sure of it, Sam."
"Really? You really think so?" Sam's enthusiasm warmed Aragorn's heart.
"Yes, Sam. I do."
"You know, you were asking about 'feelings for another of my gender'?"
"Yes." Aragorn's heartbeat quickened as he felt the conversation moving into the desired arena.
"Well, there have been times during this journey that I have felt . . . well, physical feelings for Mr. Frodo."
"Go on." Aragorn's mouth was suddenly dry.
"Well, for example, while we were in the mines of Moria, Mr. Frodo would sleep with his head in my lap. As I looked down at him, I found myself wondering how it would feel to kiss him. I never have, but I've thought about it. Instead I would just run my fingers through his hair as he slept. One time, he stirred a bit and sighed, then pressed his head into my hand. I'll remember that moment for as long as I live."
Aragorn sat mute as Sam became lost in the memory. A woodland creature moved through the forest behind them, twigs crackling into the silence.
Sam broke his reverie. "So that's my tale. It's your turn now, Mr. Strider."
"Very well." Aragorn took a deep breath and continued. "My dream was about Legolas. I have never looked upon another male with passion, but this elf elicits a desire that cannot be denied. I long to embrace him, to kiss him, to . . . .." Aragorn hesitated.
"Make love to him?" Sam prompted.
"Yes. No. I mean . . . I long for *him* to make love to *me*."
"Ohhh. I see. Is that what your dream was about?"
"No, in my dream I struggled with the conflict between my desire for Legolas and my love for Arwen."
"And how did your dream end?"
Aragorn recalled the memory of his dream encounter with Arwen. How had it ended? She had told him she rejoiced at his communion with Legolas. He had asked her what 'communion' meant. "Ask Legolas. He will tell you," had been her reply.
To Sam's question, Aragorn replied, "With more questions than when it began."
"Oh." Sam's expression was one of confusion.
"Samwise Gamgee, I thank you for your kindness and your counsel. And do not fear. Your love for Frodo will remain our secret until you choose to make your devotion known." He extended his hand to Sam.
The hobbit's tiny hand was swallowed by the human's as they sealed their pact. "And I will keep your secret safe in my heart as well, Mr. Strider," Sam said.
Aragorn was more interested in the location of his beloved Legolas than he was in Sam's discretion, but he accepted the hobbit's gesture of confidence and friendship.
Aragorn rose to his feet. "I ask you to pardon the abrupt ending to this breakfast, but I have need to speak to a certain elf," the ranger said. 'My dream holds a mystery that only he can help me solve."
~*~*~*~
Chapter 14
Boromir was no ranger, but he had some skill in stealth.
Unfortunately, it failed him as his foot snapped a twig. And then another.
He froze, hoping not to be detected. The voices continued. He exhaled softly, and continued moving forward until he could hear the words clearly.
". . . but this elf elicits a desire that cannot be denied. I long to embrace him, to kiss him, to . . . ." the ranger hesitated.
"Make love to him?" the hobbit prompted.
"Yes. No. I mean . . . I long for *him* to make love to *me*."
Boromir nearly fell over in shock. The heir of Isildur desired an elven male?
". . . conflict between my desire for Legolas and my love for Arwen."
Legolas?!
Boromir pictured the two of them together. Aragorn on his hands and knees with the elf ramming his cock into the man from behind. He reached down and adjusted his growing erection.
"Your love for Frodo will remain our secret until you choose to make your devotion known."
"And I will keep your secret safe in my heart as well, Mr. Strider."
Boromir retreated behind a tree as Aragorn stood and took his leave of the hobbit, who picked up an empty plate and followed after him. Boromir turned his back to the tree and slid down the trunk until he was sitting.
Aragorn and Legolas. He thought he had sensed something between them this morning. He would not be surprised if Legolas desired Aragorn. Who wouldn't? The ranger was one of the most attractive men Boromir had ever met. Their meeting in the Hall of Elendil had left him so overwhelmed that he had accidentally dropped the hilt of Narsil. He had heard the clang of the precious relic on the floor, but was unable to turn, wanting only to escape the moment.
Boromir would never have guessed that Aragorn would be attracted to other men. He could usually tell, but this one was a mystery.
He pictured the ranger standing in front of him. He imagined Aragorn slowly removing his tunic to reveal a tautly-muscled torso. Boromir reached down and released his raging erection. He spit on his hand and began to stroke his cock as he fantasized about the imaginary man in front of him.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 15
Legolas was concerned about Aragorn, but did not want to worry the rest of the Fellowship needlessly. So he kept his thoughts to himself and hoped Sam's company would bring some cheer to the ranger. Boromir sat off to himself, glaring into the forest. Legolas watched as Gimli, Pippin, and Merry devoured the breakfast feast.
"Try this jelly, Merry," suggested Pippin.
"That's not jelly. That's jam," Merry replied.
"So it is," conceded Pippin, taking a bite of bread and jam. "It's still good," he mumbled with his mouth full.
"Jam, jelly, who cares? It is a vast improvement from what we've been living on for these past few weeks," exclaimed Gimli.
Boromir suddenly stood and announced, "I can bear this no longer. The boredom will drive me mad. If I am condemned to remain in this blasted forest, I wish to know my surroundings. Enjoy your breakfast, but this warrior is going to find some way to be more productive."
Having finished his decree, Boromir departed the pavilion in a huff.
Legolas called after him, "You might volunteer to help guard the borders while we are guests, fragrant Gondorian. Your aroma would serve quite well as orc bait."
At this, Gimli and the feasting hobbits broke into laughter once more. They seemed to have abandoned themselves to the spell of Lothlórien.
Frodo, however, did not appear to share their cheer. His expression was one of dread and anxiety. Legolas could sense the hobbit's agitation, and spoke softly so he would not startle him.
"Are you all right, Ringbearer?" he asked.
Frodo answered simply. "I'm fine."
Legolas did not believe him, but did not press the issue.
He was troubled by something about Boromir's demeanor this morning. He was unable to determine exactly what that something was, but it was sufficient enough to raise an alarm in Legolas' mind. He decided to take his leave of the dining half of the Fellowship and follow the other half, wherever they had gone.
Legolas stood. "Well, then I'm off to Cerin Amroth. I may be gone for several days, so if you would, please extend my regards to the absent members of our Fellowship."
"You take care now, Master Elf," charged Gimli. "We shall need your bow when we leave this place."
"I will most certainly, Master Dwarf." The elf then crouched down, so his face was close to Frodo's. "You should try to relax, Frodo. You are safe amongst my kindred here."
"I will try, Legolas. But please be careful."
"Your concern warms my heart, noble hobbit. But have faith. The Valar have protected my life thus far. I am here to protect you, and that charge is not yet completed."
The hobbit threw his arms around Legolas' neck and embraced the elf tightly. Legolas embraced him in turn, lifting him off his feet and pulling him tightly to his chest. He held Frodo for several moments, and then returned the hobbit to the ground, satisfied that Frodo's anxiety had subsided for the moment.
"I'll return in a day or so. Try not to get into any mischief, all right?" The elf ruffled Frodo's hair, and called to the other hobbits, "That goes for all of you."
"Don't worry about us," replied Pippin. "As long as they keep this buffet full, I won't be leaving this spot."
Legolas gave a final wink to Frodo, then left the pavilion. The hobbits' voices behind him brought a grin to his face.
"Frodo, come over here," Merry beckoned. "You *must* try this quail."
"It's not quail, it's squab," corrected Pippin.
"It is not. It's quail," Merry argued.
"I think I know my wild birds, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and this is squab," countered Pippin.
"It's quail, or my name is Tom Bombadil."
"Well, Tom, this squab is delicious."
As Legolas moved towards the city's gates, he picked up the Gondorian's scent quite easily. He followed it across the white bridge and into the forest west of the city. It didn't take very long to catch up to Boromir, who had tailed Sam, who had followed Aragorn.
The Galadhrim must be laughing at this little parade.
As he followed Boromir, Legolas came to the conclusion that the Gondorian fancied himself a ranger. He struggled to suppress his laughter as Boromir attempted to move silently through the forest.
Boromir was now hiding behind a tree eavesdropping on a conversation between Aragorn and Sam, who sat a short distance away. Legolas had nimbly darted up a nearby tree, and now observed the entire scene from an overhead branch. Aragorn was speaking.
"My dream was about Legolas. I have never looked upon another male with passion, but this elf elicits a desire that cannot be denied. I long to embrace him, to kiss him, to . . . ." The ranger hesitated.
"Make love to him?" Sam prompted.
"Yes. No. I mean . . . I long for *him* to make love to *me*."
Legolas nearly fell out of the tree. He was unprepared for the wave of happiness Aragorn's words carried to his heart. He had to take a moment to reassure himself that he had indeed heard correctly. Aragorn *did* remember last night. But did he think it a dream?
"Samwise Gamgee," Aragorn said, "I thank you for your kindness and your counsel. And do not fear. Your love for Frodo will remain our secret until you choose to make your devotion known."
"And I will keep your secret safe in my heart as well, Mr. Strider," Sam responded.
Aragorn rose to his feet, saying "I ask you to pardon the abrupt ending to this breakfast, but I have need to speak to a certain elf. My dream holds a mystery that only he can help me solve."
Legolas was relieved that Aragorn would not find him. He was not prepared to be alone with the inquisitive man. He needed to remove himself from Aragorn's spell for a brief period. Lady Galadriel had instructed him to proceed with great care, and he had every intention of heeding her words. A day or two guarding the borders would help him clear his head and form some sort of strategy.
Normally, he would trust his instincts when approaching an unknown situation. This time, however, his instinct was his enemy, for it told him to return to their clearing and wait for Aragorn to arrive. His instinct wanted to grab Aragorn by the neck and pull him into a deep, soul-stirring kiss. To tear the clothes from the man's body. To taste the salty skin. To smell the . . . .
He shook his head to break the ranger's spell. Looking down, he saw the ranger and the hobbit moving back towards the city. He turned his attention to the other human.
Boromir had seated himself and withdrawn an impressive erection. The man closed his eyes as he began to pleasure himself.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 16
Boromir's hand moved slowly up and down his cock as his fantasy Aragorn continued to disrobe for him. The ranger was running his hands over his own body, across his chest, over his shoulders, along his arms, up his neck, across his face, through his hair, behind his head. His biceps flexed, his head tilted back, his mouth half open, his eyes half closed.
Boromir increased the speed of his strokes as Aragorn slid his hands down his torso and into the front of his breeches. He undid the fastenings that were keeping his own erection a prisoner. Boromir gasped as the man's cock was released. Aragorn stared at him with lust in his slate grey eyes. "Do you like what you see, Boromir?" he asked.
"Yes," Boromir whispered.
"Good." Aragorn took a couple steps closer. The man's cock was right in front of Boromir's face as Aragorn stroked himself to full erection. He removed his hand and moved his hips closer to Boromir's face. "Do you want this?" he asked.
"Yes," Boromir whispered again.
"Take it. Take it in your mouth."
Boromir leaned forward and touched his tongue to the tip of Aragorn's erection. Aragorn shuddered. Boromir liked that. Without hesitation he swallowed the man like a sheath sliding onto a sword.
"Aaaahhhhh!!!" cried the ranger in pleasure, his eyes wide with surprise. Boromir looked up and drank in the sight of Aragorn's tightly muscled torso, a light blanket of hair covering his chest and abdomen. The ranger looked down at him as he slowly moved up and down the man's cock, using his tongue to apply extra pressure to the sensitive underside.
While one hand continued to stroke his own cock, Boromir grabbed Aragorn with his other, pulling the ranger's hips closer. The man began to move his hips back and forth.
"Yes," Boromir gasped, removing his lips for just a moment. "Like that."
Aragorn needed no further encouragement. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the tree in front of him, and proceeded to thrust his cock down Boromir's throat.
Boromir was in ecstasy. He was grunting with each thrust, his hand a blur on his own cock. Aragorn began to grunt as well, each increasing in pitch and volume as the ranger approached orgasm.
"Do you want me to finish?" asked Aragorn. Boromir grunted and nodded, his mouth still full. "All right, then. Here it comes." He gave several deep thrusts and then buried his cock, emptying his load into Boromir's throat with a bone-rattling growl.
Boromir gave several last strokes and then shot his own load over his hand, his howl of orgasm muffled by the ranger's crotch. His body shuddered as he drank the last drops from Aragorn's spent member, and then let it slip from his mouth. He leaned back against the tree, gasping for breath, his fantasy lover evaporating like mist in the morning sun.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 17
Aragorn swiftly covered the distance back to the stone path circling the city. As he approached the city gates, he felt an odd sensation in his loins. He stopped walking, placing his hand over his lower abdomen where the sensation was growing. It felt familiar somehow.
Suddenly, he felt a wave of pleasure wash over him. It reminded him of an orgasm, only not as intense. An echo almost. It soon passed, and he continued walking, wondering at his odd experiences this visit to Lothlórien.
He crossed the bridge and entered the city. The morning was glorious and it lightened his spirits in spite of his unanswered questions. As he neared the crest of the hill and the pavilion, he encountered Haldir on the winding path.
"Good morning, Estel," said the elf as he stopped and gestured his greeting.
"Good morning to you, Haldir," replied Aragorn, returning the gesture.
"You look quite rested, Estel. Are you enjoying your return to Lothlórien?"
Haldir wore a smile similar to the one worn by a certain Mirkwood elf earlier this morning. How much did Haldir know?
"Lothlórien always fills my spirit with joy, Haldir."
"I am glad you are well. I seek Prince Legolas. He has left the pavilion." Haldir raised one eyebrow as he asked, "Would you perchance know where I may find him, Estel?"
Aragorn cocked his head to one side in confusion. "No, I have not seen him. In truth, I was seeking the good Prince myself. You say he is not at the pavilion with my companions?"
"No, he is not. They tell me that he left a short while ago saying he would return in several days."
"Several days?!" Aragorn was stunned.
"He had not told you his plans?" asked Haldir.
"No, he had not." Aragorn could not decide whether to be hurt or angry. He could not believe that after what they had shared the night before, Legolas would abandon him. For several days! "Please excuse me, Haldir, but I need to speak to my companions." Haldir must have heard them incorrectly. Several days?
"I take my leave, then, for I am departing for the northern borders myself this hour. Would you consider joining us in the defense of our realm?" asked Haldir.
"I regret I cannot, good Haldir. I have important matters of my own to investigate. But I am sure that your warriors will be more than adequate to the task at hand."
"Your sword arm will be missed. But fare you well, Estel. May the Valar bring you the illumination you seek."
"You are most gracious, Haldir."
The both gestured their farewells and proceeded on their way, Aragorn continuing up the hill, as Haldir continued down.
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