When A King Gets Bored…
Synopsis: Arwen has been away for a while, and Aragorn is extremely bored. His resulting exploits to try and make life more interesting get him into trouble, but will there be a happy ending?
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Lord of The Rings and therefore I am not responsible for any of their misdemeanours. They are the problem of the Tolkien Estate.
Flames are welcomed to keep me warm at night!
WARNING! EXTREME RANDOMNITIES!
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It was the middle of summer and Aragorn was hot. In both senses of the word. He walked outside, where there was a pleasant breeze, and wondered. Arwen had said she was leaving to take care of some 'business', but what that business was she hadn't said. She'd merely told him she was going, said sorry and then had sex with him when he looked upset at the idea that his sex toy would be gone. He trusted she'd come back soon, he just didn't know when; he wasn't that bad in bed, was he? She had been gone for eight weeks now, and he was so bored. He hadn't even seen her since, and still didn't know where she was.
Now when a guy got bored, there were three things that he could do. He could:
1) Do nothing and hope that something interesting would happen.
2) Amuse himself (we won't go into too much detail on this one!) or
3) Find someone else to amuse him, and pray that no one found out.
Now, Aragorn had been doing option number 1 for the first three weeks and found that it didn't work. Without his wife, he simply had nothing to excite him. He'd then found himself doing option number two for the past five weeks, and had decided that the real thing was better. That left option number 3. If he hadn't been the King of Gondor this option wouldn't have been so much of a problem. Being a really fit, muscular guy, he was pretty sure he had a good chance with pretty much anyone, which was how he had ended up married to the most beautiful woman/elf in the whole of Middle-Earth in the first place. But Arwen wasn't here, and he was the King, and if he…
… he probably wouldn't be very popular anymore. Well not with his wife anyway, other women would probably be queuing up to join the party. But he was so horny. There was only one thing left that he could do…
Relying on a rumour that he had heard in a tavern, he ventured down to the lower levels of Minas Tirith, ducked down a little back street, and searched the walls. He was being naughty, and knew that he really shouldn't be doing this, but he didn't care anymore. He was that bored. He soon found that the rumours were right, and he had a little party inside his head; a little naughty party.
Smiling wickedly, he pulled his cloak down over his face so that he was unrecognisable and opened the door. It was a perfectly normal door, except for the plaque on the front which read:
Women that make life more interesting
(For a small fee)
Est. 3021
He smiled to himself again as he dropped a huge bag of gold onto the receptionist's desk. Putting on his roughest voice, he said, "Your finest service, please," to the head 'entertainer'. She wore long grey robes with a dark veil that covered her face, quite an unusual outfit for someone of her profession. He was somewhat surprised when she called for another of the ladies, as he had assumed that the owner of the establishment would be the best. But apparently not.
"Ruywen, you've got another confidential one."
"One moment, ma'am, I'm just finishing with this one."
The first voice seemed quite familiar to Aragorn, but the heavy veil muffled it so that he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He imagined that he could put a finger in her, though…
He stood imagining the possibilities before he was ushered into a smal,l cosy room filled mostly with a large purple bed, which would probably have some quite interesting stories to tell if it had the ability to speak. A voice ordered him to sit and he obeyed, relaxing onto the soft mattress. Then he began worrying. Thoughts like, 'what if she recognises me? I can't keep my cloak on forever,' rushed through his head.
"Don't worry, we don't tell anyone who we serve, otherwise we have to get off with a poisonous snake." The soft voice came from behind a curtain.
Relaxing once more, and removing his cloak, Aragorn began to think things like 'I wonder if she's sexy,' and 'should I tell her my favourite position?' Then he realised certain parts of his body weren't so relaxed anymore.
"Right, let's get this over with," her voice said. Slowly a slim figure with long dark hair and smooth pale skin emerged from behind the curtain. She reminded him of Arwen, and that made him want to shag her even more. Then whilst he was admiring her body, she turned slightly and took her first look at him.
"Gleellefeebleneblewha."
"Pardon?"
"I get to king the Shag of Gondor." She wasn't really making much sense at all.
Aragorn by this point didn't really care. "If you are good at it," he replied.
She shook herself slightly and seemed to calm down a little. But only a little. "Most of the guys in here look like they are descended from a dung beetle and an orc, but you're…" She never finished that sentence. Instead she leapt upon him and began sticking her tongue down his throat. He tilted his head so that he was no longer choking.
And began to enjoy the kiss. Though she wasn't as good a kisser as Arwen, he thought. He briefly entertained the idea of feeling guilty, but then he pointedly reminded himself of how bored he had been, and how turned on he was right at that moment.
'If Arwen hadn't gone away, she would be getting some of this right now. Serves her right!' he thought.
Aragorn's hands began to wander, as all hands tend to do when the tongue is otherwise engaged. He desperately grasped the woman's ass and pressed her to the solid bulge in his crotch. He broke the kiss suddenly.
"You never told me your name," he said breathlessly.
"Does it matter?" she asked as she undid his shirt.
"Not if you keep doing that!" he replied heatedly as she began sucking on one of his nipples.
Impatient hands began to undo the laces on her dress (a nice leather number) as she continued to pleasure his nipple. Abruptly she left her post and sat up, telling him to undress.
Within moments they were both naked. Aragorn's present state of mind was blatantly obvious due to the fact that his now liberated groin area had a soldier that was stood proudly to attention. His current thoughts ran something along the lines of 'wanttohavesexmmmshesrealnicewantsexwithhernow."
She seductively motioned for him to sit on the bed and he complied, his incoherent thoughts unable to think of any reason why not to. However, his jumbled thoughts made his reaction time so slow that she managed to get a good glimpse at his manhood (which she would have to admit was one of the most impressive she'd ever seen, and she'd seen a lot!)
"Now remember," she said "you've paid for my services, and it is my job to make sure that you have a good time. it really does not matter about me at all." Aragorn simply nodded stupidly and mumbled something which sounded a lot like 'wanhavsexnow'.
They rolled over on the bed so that he was on top and with an ease that spoke of plenty of practice, he slid into her and began thrusting with all of his might. Backwards and forwards he went, in and out, all the while thinking, 'I've waited too long for this.' Then he didn't have to wait any longer.
After a few moments of panting, he got his breath back and managed to make his thoughts coherent enough to realise that he wanted another go. When he asked the whore if he could, she replied that he had paid enough to have her all night, and most of the next day as well.
At his suggestion, they tried something slightly unorthodox. Pretty soon, both of them were crying out with ecstasy.
As soon as the pair of them had stopped panting, Aragorn flashed her a grin and simply said, "Again?"
Soon Aragorn's overactive imagination was at work again thinking up ways to make whoopee even more fun and they were at it like little bunny rabbits again. They did it all night, and in so many different and strange positions that you don't even want to know. And I don't have enough time to explain them all.
By the time the sun came up, Peter Rabbit was looking slightly exhausted but incredibly happy. He emerged from the room looking like the cat who'd got the cream, or the mouse, or the fish, or whatever else it is that cats want. He then went over to thank the owner of the establishment.
"Aragorn?" asked the woman in the veil.
'Bugger,' he thought 'forgot my cloak.' Then he recognised the voice and realised that he had been right when he thought he would like to put a finger in her, and indeed he had done on many occasions.
"Arwen?" he asked incredulously. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"
"I could ask the same of you," she replied dangerously, removing the disguising veil.
"Um, well… um. You first!" said Aragorn nervously.
"No, you first."
"No, you."
"Aragorn, son of Arathorn, you will tell me why you are here right this minute!"
"FINE! I took a wrong turn, got robbed of all my money, was dragged in here, and was raped," said Aragorn, somewhat untruthfully.
"Liar!" she said with an I'm-your-wife-and-you-are-not-in-my-good-books-and-you-will-tell-me-the-truth-now look on her face.
"Well, it's all your fault!" he shouted accusingly.
"What's all my fault?"
"Well, erm…" At this point Aragorn did a very good impression of an over-ripe tomato.
"Well, why are you in a whore-house?"
"Why are YOU in a whore house?" asked Aragorn suspiciously, thinking that his wife might possibly have turned lesbian.
"Well, erm… you first!"
"FINE!WellyouwentawayandIdidn'tknowwhenyou'dbecomingbackandIjustwantedtoshagyouandItriedtoholdonuntilyougotbackbutIjustcouldn'twaitsoIcameheretofindsomeonetohavesexwith." Aragorn blurted out in one breath.
Arwen, with superior elven hearing, remarkably made sense of his outburst. "What?" Arwen fixed him with a Look of Impending Doom© (insert evil music here) †. "You slept with another woman?"
"You slept with other men! Plural!"
It was Arwen's turn to do an impression of a scarlet coloured vegetable. "Well, what ARE you doing in a whore-house? Not the same as I am, I hope."
"Erm, well… I may have gotten a little… bored with you," Aragorn replied by looking as if he had just had a ten-ton boulder dropped on his soldier: crushed.
"What? I'm almost three-thousand years old, you think you're the best shag I've ever had?"
Aragorn stood looking like a dejected puppy. "But I thought you liked the way I…"
"I did, I mean I do, but you just got kind of… stale."
"Stale?" he asked incredulously.
"Valar, yeah, I've been faking orgasms for months." (Said with way too much enthusiasm.)
"YOU'VE BEEN FAKING?" The sheer volume of his voice was probably loud enough to have roused all of southern Middle-Earth. Ruywen came out of her room to see what the commotion was, and stood gawking. The other occupants of the brothel were evidently too busy to care.
"You two know each other?" Ruywen obviously had the intelligence of a small ant, as she had just gained first place in the Understatement of The (insert incredibly long period of time here).
"YES, WE KNOW EACH OTHER!" bellowed Aragorn.
"HE'S MY BLOODY HUSBAND!" shouted Arwen.
"Bummer," said Ruywen "Well, I think he's quite good. Certainly made my job more enjoyable." She winked at Aragorn, who winked back. Arwen shot a disgusted look at Aragorn, slapped Ruywen and was about to storm off when…
… Samwise Gamgee§ came from out of nowhere and smacked them over the head with a frying pan while shouting a Hobbit war cry which sounded a lot like 'To Taitose Masham Taken Twist You!'
Aragorn and Arwen promptly passed out.
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Aragorn woke up in his bed with no recollection of the past eight weeks, although he did seem to have a copy of the Karma Sutra engraved in his brain. He also found out that it wasn't just a stiff neck he had acquired from sleeping funny. Thoroughly bored and with a slight headache, he went from his room to find something interesting to do.
He was in his rather large and luxurious bathroom relieving himself of his boredom when Arwen walked in, looking equally bored. A mischievous grin spread across Aragorn's face.
"Oh, Arwen dearest, I wonder if you could help me with something?"
"What, my love?"
"This!" he said and moving like lightning, grabbed his wife and immediately impaled her upon his sword.
And she didn't complain one bit!
THE END
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Author's Note
§ Samwise was at the time was on an Anti-Brothel Crusade after discovering that his wife Rosie had become bored of him and set up a brothel. But that is another story entirely and has nothing to do with this one, nor is it similar in any way.