a boys night at the betting ring

part three


"No, that does not mean the bet has finished" reiterated Legolas firmly. "Aragorn hasn't finished yet. You saw him, he's going back."


"But I wagered that Strider would come back first, and he did. You never said anythin' about how long he had to stay!" complained Sam, "me and Master Frodo and Pippin have won that money fair as fair."


"Overruled!" proclaimed Gandalf, who was less than eager to lose his money to Sam, Frodo and Pippin, and preferred the idea of continuing the bet until such time as he had won. "The bet goes on. And now that we're all finally satisfied that the bet will continue..." Gandalf paused and glanced at Sam, who scowled back at him, but said nothing, "I would like to up my wager". Digging into his hat, he took out a handful of coins and handed them over to Legolas.

"There you go Mister Bookkeeper. I maintain my bet that Boromir will not be able to take the heat."


Legolas took the money and grinned. "What? No way mate, that lube is going places. Those two are going to be going for it all night y'know."


At the mention of the lube, Merry turned and prodded Legolas accusingly. "Why didn't you tell us you had lube?" he pointedly, "are you holding back information that could influence the odds?"


"That's quite a point you've got there young Mister Brandybuck," said Gandalf, glaring at the Elf, "do you have inside information, Legolas?"


Legolas suddenly looked uncomfortable, "No!" he said defensively.


"Indeed?" broke in Gimli grumpily, "Well, why didn't you bring it out when you and me...um that time when um...anyway" he trailed off.


There was another distinct silence.


"When you what?" asked Pippin.


Gimli mumbled something inaudible.


" I use that oil to shine my hair," exclaimed Legolas suddenly.


"That's right!" asserted Gimli, "So do I."


The gamblers looked curiously at Gimli, and then at his overgrown, wiry, red hair, and then his overgrown, wiry, red moustache, then his overgrown, wiry, red beard.

Then they all turned to look at the long, soft, silky, golden locks of the Elf.


"Why doesn't anybody here believe that a Dwarf might pay attention to his looks," Gimli declared. "Dwarfs have feelings too I'll have you know." He shot the Fellowship members an injured glance and went off to sit in the corner of the clearing on his own, mumbling about sex-starved wizards, selfishly lewd elves and promiscuous, prurient hobbits who wouldn't understand what it was like being a Dwarf even if it was written on a magic ring and hung round their necks.


The gamblers watched him go. "Anyway," said Merry, "me and Pippin better get back to make sure that Boromir doesn't tell, since Sam doesn't trust him an' all."


"Oh no you don't!" exclaimed Gandalf, grabbing Merry by the scruff off the neck before he could make off into the bushes. "Give someone else a turn!"

He dumped Merry unceremoniously on Boromir's empty bedroll, gripped Legolas by the ear, and strode purposefully towards the thicket. "It's time to give your elders a chance" he called back over his shoulder.


~


"That's not fair!" Pippin pouted, "why can't we go too. It's boring here."


"I agree," said Gimli, returning from his corner to join the group of hobbits who were left behind after the rapid departure of Gandalf and Legolas. "Why don't we just go ourselves. If we stay on the other side of the thicket, Gandalf and Legolas won't even know we're there."


Merry and Pippin brightened up visibly at this suggestion. Sam however, looked worried, "I don't know about that. I think someone should guard the camp. I'll stay here with Mister Frodo."


Merry, Pippin and Gimli looked at him, then at Frodo, then at the carrot that Frodo was hiding behind his back. "No!" they said simultaneously.


~


Boromir placed his whole weight on Aragorn's muscled torso, and pushed him down, gripping Aragorn's wrists firmly, he angled the Ranger's arms out above his head so that he lay spread-eagled on the ground. He looked down at the Ranger below him.


"I fear, Lord Aragorn," Boromir stated, "that you will find Elvish Princes rather easier to conquer than Ruling Stewards."


"Not yet, are you the Ruling Steward," Aragorn gasped as Boromir's tongue traced patterns down his chest. He struggled against Boromir's hold on his wrists, but the younger man was heavier-set than the Ranger, and Aragorn could not pull free.


"Ahh, but you are not yet the King either, my Liege" answered Boromir derisively.


His tongue moved down towards Aragorn's abdomen and Aragorn could feel Boromir's warm breath, burning a trail of heat down his torso. As he reached Aragorn's firm member, Boromir let go of Aragorn's wrists, and took hold of his shaft with both hands, teasing it with practiced ease. Aragorn gasped and arched his back off the ground in pleasure.


Boromir slid his hands under Aragorn's arse and his strong fingers made exploratory progress towards the puckered entrance between Aragorn's cheeks. Sensuously, his fingers investigated the entrance. Aragorn groaned again. Abruptly all coherent thought ceased to function. His mind filled with visions of snow falling on far distant mountain peaks, sun beams breaking through silent forests and the passage of time fast forwarding across the land, so that before the radiant colours of the sunrise had completely faded new colours were streaming across the skies as the sun began to set. There were floating flower petals, delicate dewdrops, and innocent bunnies frolicking merrily through the fields, old men with pointy hats and long grey beards...ahhh no, umm, that is... well... any way, back to the happy little bunnies....Bunnies, he thought, what joyful little bunnies.


"Take me!" he gasped to Boromir. "Now!"


Boromir grinned at him, and took his hands away from Aragorn's entrance. Aragorn groaned in protest, but Boromir placed a finger enticingly on Aragorn's lips, silencing him.


"Is that a kingly thing to say, my Lord?" he asked.

Aragorn nearly screamed with frustration, his loins were on fire, throbbing and inflamed with desire, and now this man was taunting him with questions. Boromir poked his finger into Aragorn's mouth temptingly, "I have warned you already against ordering me, Lord Aragorn. Will you not apologise?"


Aragorn tried to think, vainly he tried to remember why he was there, why he shouldn't apologise, but it was hard to concentrate when there were still bunnies insistantly running through the grass, and someone appeared to have a finger in your mouth. All memories of his plan to force the Steward's submissal to him were forgotten.


Boromir buried his other hand into Aragorn's hair, running the dark locks through his fingers. Sweat dripped from Aragorn's forehead, and he gave up trying to think.

"Yes, yes, anyhting you say Boromir" he mumbled, attempting to talk around the finger that was enticingly exploring his mouth and tongue.


"No," said Boromir, "you have to apologise properly."


"I apologise!" cried Aragorn in desperation.


"That's better."


Boromir withdrew his finger from Aragorn's mouth and began lubricating his hands liberally with the sweet smelling oil Legolas had lent them. Then sliding his slippery fingers around Aragorn's thighs, he lifted the Ranger's hips from the ground, and began to spread it lavishly around his entrance. Aragorn sighed as the cool ointment brought relief to the fire and passion overtaking his body.

Slowly, Boromir inserted his finger into the warm dark cleft between Aragorn's cheeks, Aragorn tensed instinctively at the intrusion, but then forced himself to relax, more bunnies appeared, pink bunnies with little hats, hats with bows...he moaned. Boromir withdrew his finger, and judging that Aragorn was now ready inserted two fingers. Again Aragorn moaned, and felt the tears form in the corners of his eyes. Orchestral background music filled his ears. "Now" he whispered hoarsely, "now!"


" What was that?" Boromir asked him.


"Please" Aragorn added desperately.

Boromir moved up against Aragorn's pelvis and thrust his own swollen member deep into Aragorn's body. Aragorn jerked at the sudden intrusion and clenched with the pain, but Boromir pushed harder, and abruptly all of Aragorn's control ceased to function, the pink bunnies began to leaping across the fields like elves on amphetamines, and he cried out in rapture.

Boromir thrust again, and again, until they were both involved in a rhythmic dance, undulating against one another. Deeper and deeper, reaching for the secret spot each time, knowing exactly where to hit it so that Aragorn nearly fainted with pleasure. His heaving plunges got more and more frantic as his climax got closer and closer, until suddenly Boromir felt his member swell to breaking point, and he exploded, shooting his seed deep inside Aragorn with a shuddering gasp.

Aragorn gave a moan as Boromir pulled out of him, but it was quickly stifled as Boromir then took Aragorn's shaft in his hands, and with a skilful deftness brought Aargorn to the zenith of ecstasy. Within moments, Aragorn felt his own climax surging through his cock, and helpless against the Steward's teasing fingers, he released it with abandon, spreading the sticky substance all over Boromir's hands.


~

The two watchers in the thicket gazed on in amazement.


"Aragorn never let me do that to him," exclaimed Gandalf and Legolas together.


There was a sudden pause.


"Ahem" said Gandalf, investigating a piece of twig intently, and moving slightly farther away from the Elf.


"Y'know, that was possibly more information than was necessary" said Legolas, investigating a dead leaf intently, and moving slightly farther away from the wizard.

There was another pause.

Finally Legolas broke the silence. "Um, I think we could get a better view from over there, y'know." He pointed to a bush slightly to the left of their current position.

Gandalf nodded in assent, and, still keeping an uncomfortable distance from one another, they moved quietly to the new location.


~


The Ranger flopped down on the ground, panting with exhaustion, Boromir collapsing beside him. Staring up at the stars, Aragorn's mindless ecstasy slowly began to abate, the bunnies disappeared, as did the orchestral background music, and the accelerated sunsets. Suddenly he realised that he had forgotten why he was there. Because of Boromir's arse, he thought to himself, then he stopped, puzzled; no- there had been something else....


Unexpectedly it hit him. With a force like a dead dwarf falling on his head, he remembered. Of course! He was supposed to be soliciting Boromir's submissal to his Kingship, forcing Boromir to accept his claim to the throne (while at the same time, of course, impressing him with his prowess at using his...er...sword, on the...er...battlefield).


Oh shit! he thought, considering the recent exertions. Completely overwhelmed by desire, he had been practically begging for Boromir to take him. He had been begging for Boromir to take him. By the Valar, he thought, it was so unfair. How could this man, this Steward, cause such rampaging hunger to go flooding through his veins? How was he supposed to exert his Kingship when he was dominated by an unquenchable craving, an unstoppable need to...He shut his eyes in frustration. It was all too confusing. He pulled himself together. The point was, he, Aragorn bearerofthestarofthenorthcaptainofthehostofthewestchieftainofthedúnedainofarnorthe dúnadanelessarofthelineofvalandiltheelfstoneestelevinyatartherenewerheirtothethrone ofgondorkingofthewestlongshanksstridertelcontarthorongilwielderoftheswordreforged wingfoot son of Arathorn, was the descendant of Isildur, and no Steward- however sexy, and erotically arousing, and gorgeous, and...his thoughts were broken by an unexpected tweak on his cock...no Steward was going to...there was a more insistent tweak on his cock...no Steward was going to resist him.

He looked down to see Boromir teasing his member with his teeth.


This steward was insolent, he decided. It was now time to take control of this situation.


"Boromir...? Why don't you roll over? Now."


Boromir looked up at him, a slow sardonic smile creeping across his face. "You wish me to roll over, my King? I do not think that you should presume so much."


Ahh fuck! Why was Boromir always so defiant? He couldn't let him dismiss his authority like this! This was insubordination this was. He reached forward so that he could reach a hand up behind Boromir's buttocks, reaching his fingers towards the coveted opening between the bum cheeks.


Boromir continued to play with Aragorn's member, watching the Ranger out of the corner of one eye. Casually, he stopped his tonguing. "It appears to me," he said as he glanced at the Ranger, "that you could be begging for me to roll over, just so that you can flaunt your authority as King. Would that be true, Lord Aragorn?"


He took Aragorn's cock back into his mouth and Aragorn's senses drowned in waves of lust. He tried to concentrate; maybe he should try a more direct approach.


"Boromir," he moaned, "swear yourself to me."


"Say that again, my Liege," threatened Boromir," and I'll bite you."


Aragorn shut up abruptly. Perhaps attempting to force Boromir into submissal while he had his shaft in his mouth, wasn't really the safest idea. He did not want to have to ask Elrond to fix another of his swords. Particularly this one, since it was his favourite after all. Besides, it was quite possible that if Boromir did actually bite it, then this sword may prove beyond even the ability of the Elves to fix.

While he was considering this unpleasant eventuality, Boromir got up and began to walk over to a dark lump on the ground which, on closer inspection, appeared to be one of his boots.


Damn, he was leaving, thought Aragorn with frustration. But this Ranger would not be discouraged yet! Perhaps now was the time to make an appeal to the heart, and lay his real desires out in the open?


"Aahh, Boromir?" Aragorn said softly as he moved away.


Boromir turned around to face Aragorn. "Yes?"


"Will your ever accept me as your king?"

That was it, the big question. All Boromir had to do was say yes, and this bliss that they had just experienced would go on forever. There would be no confusion in their lovemaking. No striving for control. Aragorn would have the Steward's alluring, luscious, ravishing, awe-inspiring body, all to himself, and the good Steward would accept Aragorn's position, and do away with his subordinate attitude. Boromir would belong to Aragorn, forever and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and...


Boromir deliberated for a moment, then slowly he walked back towards the Ranger. Leaning down he looked into his eyes thoughtfully, and gave him a long passionate kiss. He broke away slowly, his lips lingering over Aragorn's face, his fingers gently caressing Aragorn's chin, smoothing Aragorn's unkempt, dark hair away from his face. He knelt down in front of the Ranger, and taking both of Aragorn's hands in his own, he kissed them and looked up, " My Lord..." he said.


Aragorn held his breath expectantly, filled with desire, arousal and love. He desperately wanted Boromir to say it, to accept him as King, so that he could then take him as a lover, without rivalry. He waited for him to say it. Please, he thought desperately, please just accept my position and then I will forget all your derision and sarcasm and take you as mine.


Boromir gazed into Aragorn's face searchingly, holding Aragorn's suspense with his grey eyes, deep and sincere.


"...Gondor needs no king."


He patted Aragorn's head comfortingly, and walked back to his boot.


Aragorn stared stunned after him, making small, enraged squeaking noises.


~


Legolas felt a hard knobbly object shoved, not very gently, between his shoulder blades. Guiltily, he looked up into a pointy hatted face peering menacingly at him.


"Gandalf...?"

Gandalf paused thoughtfully," I just realised, that your name, if you say it in Elvish would be-"


"Shut up, mate."


"Would be Greenleaf- "


"Don't say it, mate!"


"Would be Greenleaf Greenleaf."


"It's not funny y'know!"


" Whatever was your Father thinking? However," Gandalf turned his attentions back to the matter at hand. "What are you doing, may I ask? In case you had not realised, the Men are over there." He pointed a finger behind him.


Legolas smiled; "I'm counting my winnings" he answered innocently.


"Really," Gandalf raised an eyebrow, "I was under the impression that the betting ended at daybreak."


Legolas waved an arm at the faint glimmer of morning appearing over the mountains. "It is daybreak" he stated defensively.


"No, I don't believe it is" answered Gandalf; " the bets are not counted until the sun shows it's entire face above the Mountain. Much could yet happen before Anor rises completely."


Legolas swore in Elvish under his breath, but before Gandalf could comment on his lack of decorum a boot went flying over their heads.


"Boromir, you bastard!" came Aragorn's agonised shriek from behind the trees.


Gandalf winked at Legolas. "I believe that the fates of the bookkeeper are changing at last."


With a look of panic Legolas leaped up and sprinted back to the edge of the thicket, desperate to reassure himself that his winnings were not in jeopardy.


~


"My gravest apologies, Lord Aragorn. Did I nearly hit you with my boot? I assure you, I did not know you were there," said Boromir sarcastically.


Aragorn glowered at him, "I fear, that regardless of your childish act of ill-humour, I am still the heir to the throne of Gondor."


Boromir grinned at him and leaned down to pick up his remaining boot. Aragorn was momentarily distracted as the soft beams of the newly rising sun sparkled over Boromir's toned and lithe body, and he lost the thread of the conversation. There were a few moments of silence until Aragorn suddenly remembered the what he had been saying.


"I am the heir" he reinstated. "The blood of Numenor runs in my veins!"


Again, he was distracted again as Boromir stood up back up, muscles and sinews rippling with the movement, boot in hand. There was another pause as Aragorn gathered his concentration.


"While you will always be merely a Steward!" he finally finished.


Boromir looked unimpressed. Glancing down at the tub of lube, which had been abandoned on the ground, he changed the subject.


"Why did you claim that you had never partaken of this manner of exertion before?" Boromir asked softly.


"Why do you psuppose that I have?" Aragorn answered him guardedly.


"My Lord, I know what it feels like to involve myself with people who have not had experience in these matters, and you do not fall into that category."


"I have never partaken of this manner of exertion with a Steward before." Aragorn said defensively.


"Is that so?" Boromir appraised the Ranger thoughtfully."Well then my Lord, do you only fuck people that you wish to force into submission, or do you simply fuck anything that moves?"


"I do not fuck anything that moves" exclaimed Aragorn resentfully.

Boromir watched him accusingly,"oh really?"

The Ranger stared back furiously. "I don't fuck trees."


"Trees don't move"


"Some of them do."


"Suddenly, I feel that I do not want to know."


"You started it."


The two men glared at each other across the thicket.


"So how many other members of the Fellowship have you bedded?" Boromir sneered eventually.


Aragorn scowled at him.


"Come Lord Aragorn" Boromir persisted, "surely there should be no secrets between a Steward and his King."


Aragorn refused to answer. He did not have to reveal anything to this man! It was this man who should be answering to him. To him, the King. Lost in indignant contemplation, he failed to notice that Boromir had moved to stand directly behind him, and jumped when he felt Boromir's arm's suddenly encircle his waist, and Boromir's hips rubbing up against his backside.


"Three!" he gasped recklessly.


~


"Three?" repeated Pippin incredulously.


Sam, Merry, Gimli and Pippin looked at each other in surprise.


"Well," said Merry, "it wasn't me."


"And it wasn't me either" asserted Pippin.


"It was never me!" Sam put in quickly. They turned to look at the Dwarf.


"I would never do anything like that with a Man!" Gimli exclaimed, horrified that they could even consider such a thing. "You can trust a Man," he went on sagely, "it's Elves that you can't trust. They don't know when to keep their hands to themselves."

In a exemplary show of subconcious empathy, Sam, Merry and Pippin decided not to ask Gimli how he had discovered that particular Elvish fact.


"But that means," said Pippin, "including Boromir, Aragorn has been with Legolas and Gandalf, so they both had inside tips to influence their bets!"


"Here, that's right!" exclaimed Sam angrily.


"No, wait," said Gimli, waving his hands at the hobbits," Aragorn wasn't including Boromir! Boromir asked how many other members he had bedded, and he replied three."


Frodo intently investigated a hole in his jacket.


"But then..." started Sam.


Sam, Merry, Pippin and Gimli turned to look at Frodo.


Frodo continued to intently investigate the hole in his jacket.


"Mister Frodo...?!" cried Sam in shock and disbelief, "you never..."


"Sam, no." protested Frodo desperately, "I only..."


"But, Mister Frodo" Sam sounded close to tears, "why?"


"Sam...I'm so sorry Sam."


"How could you...?"


Frodo found another hole in his jacket. "Do you remember at the council meeting, Sam?" he asked softly," when Aragorn said that I had his sword...?"


Sam nodded.


"Well, it turned out that he meant it more ways than one."


"Oh dear" mumbled Gimli.

part four