a boys night at the betting ring
part four
Boromir leaned his chin on Aragorn's shoulder. "Three?" he whispered into the Ranger's ear huskily, "let me guess..."
Thoughtfully he nuzzled against Aragorn's neck, brushing the rough stubble of his chin teasingly over the Ranger's shoulder and slowly caressing the Ranger's nipples with his fingertips. Unconsciously, Aragorn leaned his body back into Boromir's embrace, pushing himself closer into the Steward's arms. His previous anger and frustration completely forgotten in the warmth of the other man's touch. An insatiable fire, swallowing his soul and dulling his mind in a steam-induced fog of passion. His pulse quickened and closing his eyes, he felt Boromir's insistent fingers pursuing each other across his chest, mapping out new boundaries with tips of tingling desire.
"...I'm sure that the Hobbits would love you, my King," Boromir murmured eventually, abandoning his investigation of Aragorn's torso and slowly moving his hands down to fondle Aragorn's cock meaningfully, "I am sure that you would all be about the same size."
~
"Ahh!! My ears!!" Legolas clapped his hands to his head in a desperate attempt to shut out Aragorn's outraged yell, and stumbled backwards out of the bushes in which he was hiding.
Gandalf followed him, and watched in consternation as the Elf collapsed to the forest floor, moaning mournfully and attempting to insert his fingers as far into ear holes as they would possibly go.
"My poor, poor, sensitive Elven hearing y'know," Legolas mumbled softly to himself.
"Master Greenleaf?" whispered Gandalf worriedly, and after receiving no answer he tried again, a little louder. "Legolas Greenleaf?!"
Gandalf waved his staff in front of the Elf's face. The Elf looked up, startled, as if he had been unaware of the Wizard's presence.
"It's quiet now" Gandalf informed him," Aragorn has stopped yelling."
Legolas looked at him blankly.
"What was that, mate?" he asked.
"Aragorn has stopped yelling" repeated Gandalf patiently.
"Ahh- didn't quite catch that..."
"Aragorn Has Stopped Yelling!"
"..."
The Wizard sighed, exasperated, and giving Legolas a thump with his staff, he
motioned for the Elf to take his fingers out of his ears.

Legolas scowled at him, but warily removed his hands from his head. "There was no need to hit me, y'know," he muttered defensively. "Elves ears are very sensitive, I can't be too careful."
"I'm sure you will survive," responded Gandalf dismissively, "however, now that you can hear me, perhaps you can explain what made Aragorn so distressed."
Obligingly, Legolas told him.
"So Boromir insinuated that Aragorn was as small as a Hobbit?" clarified the Wizard.
Legolas nodded.
"Although, some Hobbits are much larger than you would expect," commented Gandalf thoughtfully.
Legolas cringed silently.
"I mean..." began Gandalf.
There was an embarrassed pause.
"I was talking about feet," Gandalf explained hurriedly.
"Oh," said the Elf.
"Some Hobbits have feet that are much larger than you would expect," reiterated the Wizard.
"I see"
"But Boromir wasn't talking about feet, was he?"
"No."
"But Aragorn is quite small, when you think about it..."
"His feet?" asked Legolas innocently.
The Wizard glared at him. "No" he replied bluntly.
"His cock?" confirmed the Elf virtuously.
Gandalf nodded.
"Yes..." Legolas agreed," he is rather."
There was a pause as they both shuffled back into a good viewing position amidst the undergrowth at the edge of the thicket.
"Although I only discovered how small he was tonight" said Gandalf abruptly.
"Well, yeah," Legolas replied hastily, "I didn't have any idea how small he was before this, y'know."
"No, of course not" agreed Gandalf.

"Like, I'd never seen it until just now."

"No."
~
Aragorn stormed furiously around the thicket, grabbing discarded pieces of clothing from the ground and pulling them with a distinct absence of coherent thought.

"My King?" questioned the Steward, attempting to get a reaction from the fuming Ranger, who ignored Boromir and continued determinedly in his struggle to put a leg through the armhole of the Steward's embroidered red tunic.
"I fear that that would be my tunic, Lord Aragorn" Boromir commented helpfully.
Aragorn looked down at the object in his hand. Yes, now that he looked at it closely, it did appear to be rather more red than any of his own attire. Damn, damn, damn! He looked frenetically round the thicket. Where in Gorgoroth were his clothes!

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Boromir reach into a gloomy shadow on the ground. At the Steward's touch the shadow transformed itself into a dark leather coat.
"I believe this one to be yours," Boromir said as he held up the Ranger's garment.
Aragorn glared at him, and threw the offending red tunic on the ground. He marched over to the Steward and violently wrenched the proffered item out of his hand.

Silently, Boromir went to pick up his own clothing. As he looked around unprofitably for his other boot, he reflected that throwing his footwear at Aragorn may not have been the wisest course of action. Perhaps he had pushed the Ranger far enough. He didn't really want to annoy the man so much that they never spoke again. That much animosity would make travelling together really quite difficult.
Although, he considered, it wasn't really his fault. If the guy wouldn't shut up about being King, then what was he supposed to do? Plus, it was so easy to piss Aragorn off. Nonetheless...he stopped to watch the half naked Ranger grappling with his clothing...Aragorn had been quite a satisfying distraction for most of the night, and he had proved really quite experienced in the activities of the evening...perhaps he needed some help dressing?
"Do you need any assistance?" asked Boromir, as Aragorn successfully entangled himself in his coat, tore one of the sleeves off his shirt, and managed to gouge a huge rent in his cloak with his sword.

The Ranger gave him a death stare, and extricating himself from the coat, discarding the ripped shirtsleeve, and throwing the ripped cloak over his shoulder, he began to make his way out of the thicket. Boromir sighed. The man was just no fun, he concluded regretfully, pulling the red tunic over his shoulders. Poking his head through the neck hole, he looked up and was surprised to discover that it was nearly dawn. He watched as the bright face of Anor rose slowly between the distant mountains, bathing the snow-capped peaks in a golden glow. Deciding that it was probably time to get back to the rest of the company Boromir gave up on the idea of finding his other boot, and limped barefooted across the clearing and after the Ranger.
~
"They're leaving!" exclaimed Legolas frantically. "Quick, get back to the campsite!"

"There's no hurry," Gandalf reassured him, "Gimli and the Hobbits are still there. "
" Oh, that's right," answered Legolas calming down slightly. He glanced towards the mountains, "Look- the sun is up. Aragorn and Boromir stayed together all night, I win the bet!"
Gandalf squinted into the sunrise and shook his head.
"Nay, Master Elf" he disagreed," fair Anor is not completely up yet."
" Is too..." Legolas began to protest, but his objection trailed off as he noticed Gandalf's eyebrows begin to shift threateningly. Deciding that the best course of action was to stay silent, the Elf turned his gaze back to the forest.
"Hey, what's that?" he exclaimed suddenly pointing towards the other side of the thicket, where a large bush appeared to be undergoing an epileptic fit. "Why are those branches shaking?"

Gandalf's eyes followed the direction indicated by the Elf's pointing finger. He watched the mysteriously trembling branches in consternation.
"It's the hobbits!" Legolas suddenly shouted in surprise. "They've snuck out of the campsite! There will be no one in there when the Men get back!"

Exchanging a panicked look they both bolted out of the undergrowth, heading for the clearing.

At the same moment a shrill shout came from the convulsing bushes opposite. "Run! They've seen us!"
There was a mass exodus towards the camp as the two separate parties ran from the thicket, but in their haste the two groups collided among the trees. Merry and Pippin ran headlong into Legolas and knocked him forcefully to the ground while Frodo and Sam executed a graceful skid into Gandalf's long skirts. Unlike the Elf, Gandalf skillfully managed to keep his feet, and pulled the two Hobbits out from between his legs, standing them back on their feet, where they were promptly mown down by the Dwarf who hadn't quite stopped in time. As Frodo, Sam and Gimli picked themselves up from the ground, they turned to watch Legolas struggling frantically, still trapped beneath Merry and Pippin.
"Get off him! Get off him!" Gimli shouted at the Hobbits. "Watch the hair!"
Pippin looked up at him in bewilderment, "watch the what?" he asked, confused.

Gimli hopped about in agitation, waving his hands wildly. "Watch the hair!" he explained. "Legolas gets so many leaves in it when he rolls on the ground! It took me ages to brush all the knots out last time we-... "
The Dwarf stopped in mid-sentence.
"Last time you...?" prompted Gandalf, looking at the Dwarf curiously.
"Ohh..." Gimli paused, "we...um...last time we tripped over... and Legolas rolled on the ground and got leaves in his hair."
"And when was that exactly?"
"Well, ah...when Legolas...ah...fell off a rock one time" answered Gimli lamely.
"Legolas fell off a rock?" repeated Pippin disbelievingly.
"Yes" reiterated the Dwarf, throwing a dirty glance at the youngest hobbit.
Pippin turned to Merry. "Legolas fell off a rock?" he repeated. Merry shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the Elf skeptically.
"So Legolas fell off the rock...and then he tripped over you...and then he rolled around on the ground?" asked Gandalf, not to be discouraged from his line of enquiry.
Gimli turned his attentions back to the wizard. "Umm...Yes?" he answered uncertainly.
Gandalf looked at Legolas who was busily pretending to be somewhere else, while unobtrusively attempting to disentangle himself from Merry and Pippin.
"And then you nicely offered to brush his hair for him?" Gandalf continued.

A bright glow slowly began to rise up Gimli's neck, turning his face a brilliant red that complimented the colour of his beard stunningly.
The Wizard watched the spectacular colour transformation thoughtfully. However, before he could finish his cross-examination, Legolas managed to extricate himself from the Hobbits and hastily changed the subject.
"Anyway," he exclaimed, "what are you guys all doing here? I thought we left you at the campsite, y'know."
Suddenly realising that if the Men reached the campsite before them, there would be no one to verify the outcome of the bets, the Company looked at one another in dismay. With a superb display of spontaneous mutual agreement, the group left the Gimli-Legolas affair for later discussion, and sprinted frantically after the Men.
~
Aragorn burst into the clearing, and looked around in surprise. The campsite was empty- completely devoid of any life. Every bedroll was vacant, impressively vacant in fact. The clearing was a silent as the Hall of Fire after Elrond had attempted to sing that time, and everyone had walked out before their ears burst.
What in Arda could had happened? He stopped to consider the possibilities. Perhaps they had all needed to relieve themselves simultaneously? No, probably not very likely. How about...an unscheduled early morning fitness routine? Somehow he couldn't imagine Gimli getting into the pre-dawn exercise scene.
So where were they? With a sinking feeling he realised that while he had been away with Boromir, anything could have happened. He looked around in panic. Had Sauron's Orcs come upon them in the night and taken them away to deliver them to the foul pits of Mordor? Or had they been beset by hordes of spies sent from Orthanc, whose minds were intent on committing atrocities too abhorrent to think about?

Suddenly he heard the sound of movement behind him. He spun round in alarm, breathing a sigh of relief as he realised it was only Boromir making his way into the clearing. Aragorn gestured dramatically at the Steward, his concern for the fate of the others making him forget his previous anger.
"They're all gone!" he exclaimed in distress.
Boromir looked around. Assuming that the Ranger was referring to the rest of the Fellowship, and not the dwindling supply of carrots in the Fellowship's food stores, he nodded. "Yes," he agreed, "they are."
Wondering what Aragorn expected him to do about it, he waited for the Ranger's next highly perceptive statement. It was not long in coming.
"They aren't here!"
Just in case one of the Hobbits had materialised from beneath a rock, or Legolas had emerged from the tree-tops, Boromir looked around again. Discovering that nothing of the sort had happened, he shook his head. "No," he agreed,"they're not."
He watched as the Ranger anxiously inspected the tracks left by the Fellowship on the forest floor. He had to admit, Aragorn was showing some real concern over the vanished Fellowship members. Although, he supposed, he would probably have been more concerned about their disappearance also, if he hadn't heard them racing through the undergrowth behind him.
~
Right on cue, the first of the missing Company arrived in the form of a breathlessly panting Elf, followed closely by the rest of the Fellowship. They pulled up abruptly as they caught sight of the two men.
Aragorn stared at them with a mixture of astonishment and relief.
"What happened?" he asked in confusion. "Where have you all been?"

Ignoring his questions the recently arrived Company members attempted to regain their breath. Finally Pippin gasped out desperately, "who was here first?"
"What?" asked the Ranger in bewilderment.

"Who was here first?" repeated the Hobbit. Aragorn looked at him stupidly, and Pippin slowly restated his question so that the Man could understand.
"Which - one - of - you - two..." he pointed at the Ranger and the Steward, "...got back - to - the - campsite - first?"

"Oh" said Aragorn, finally comprehending the question,"I did."
Merry clapped his hand to his forehead and groaned in dismay. His cousin, on the other hand, gave a loud cry of ecstasy.
"Hear that Sam, Frodo! We've won! We've won!"
Gandalf gave a grimace, and turned to the Steward, "you did not arrive first, Boromir?" he asked, vainly clinging to the hope that he and Gimli could still win the bet.
Boromir shook his head. "No" he said.
"Gah!" Gimli glared at the Steward disgustedly.
"I can see my faith in you was misplaced," he spat angrily, "as was my money." He shot a dark and menacing look at the Steward. Boromir was about to protest when he was interrupted by an urgent shout from the Elf.

"Hang on a bit!" Legolas waved a hand at the sun which was, by now, well and truly above the mountains. "Aragorn...was the sun up completely when you got here?"
Aragorn looked at him blankly.

"I don't know" he answered.

The Elf tossed his head impatiently, the early morning breeze catching at his golden braids. "Think mate!" he commanded, "Boromir, did you notice?"
Once again, Boromir shook his head.
"Damn!" swore the Elf angrily. "The sun must have been up. I say Merry and I win."

"No way!" complained Pippin, "hand over our stakes."

Legolas scowled at him and held the bag containing the Fellowship's betting money high out of the Hobbit's reach.
Aragorn watched their exchange suspiciously. "What's going on?" he asked again. "Where have you all been?"
Abruptly, Legolas and Pippin stopped their argument guiltily and fell quiet, while the other members of the Company suddenly discovered other things to do. Like investigate the symbiotic relationship between pockets and pocket lint.

"Umm..."said Pippin.
There was a brief silence and he vainly looked around at the rest of the Company for some support. When none was forthcoming, he tried again.
"Well..."
He caught a glimpse of Aragorn's skeptical expression and trailed off.

"We were..." said Legolas.
"Why don't you ask Boromir?" suggested Gimli spitefully, still upset about losing his money by backing the Steward.

Aragorn looked at Boromir with an expression of distrust, that was bordering on anger.
" What in Arda is going on!?" he exclaimed. 'I demand to know!"

Boromir shrugged non-commitally and held his silence. Aragorn scowled jealously. Something had happened that everyone knew about except him! Even the damn Steward knew about it! He clenched his hands furiously. This was just too much. He was the King dammit! King! King! King! Why did no one understand this! Even Gandalf- he glowered across at the Wizard, who was busily inspecting his fingernails virtuously- appeared to be hiding something. And Legolas...he looked at the Elf in hurt betrayal...
But the Elf was once again occupied with the desperate attacks of Pippin, who had recommenced his attempts to seize the stakes. Holding the bag high above his head, Legolas easily managed to fend off the short Hobbit.
"You've got no chance, Mate" he said, as Pippin made a futile leap for the money.
Boromir watched them thoughtfully for a moment, and then walked quietly up behind Legolas. He reached out and plucked the bag of winnings out of the Elf's unsuspecting fingers. The Elf spun round surprised, his mouth open in shock.
"Hey! What are you doing, Mate?" he shouted.
Boromir glanced at him with his best 'I Would Never Even Think Of Taking Anything That Wasn't Mine' expression, and inspected the contents of the bag innocently.
"I deem," he said casually, "that if you cannot decide on a winner between yourselves, then I should accept these stakes as a reward for my services."

"Your services!" spluttered the Elf in outrage.

"Why yes," answered Boromir, "I was approached by the young Pippin here, who suggested that I should extend my services towards our King, for the purpose of a little bet that you were running."

" No, I didn't!" squeaked Pippin in protest. "I just suggested that you should keep an open mind."

"Regardless," the Steward answered carelessly, " I suggest that the money is mine now."
Legolas glared at him, "interesting set-up, Boromir. You wait for every one else to put their bets in, and then you take the money for yourself. Ingenious.
Boromir nodded at him, "Thank you, Legolas."
"But it still boils down to petty theft" continued the Elf. "In the end you're just a robber. Nothing more than a common thief."

The Steward scowled, "you always did have a small mind, Master Elf."
Within seconds the Elf had a slender silver knife pressed against Boromir's neck. "Give the money back!" he hissed jealously.

"Would you kill another member of the Fellowship?" the Steward questioned softly.
The Elf pressed the knife closer to the man's neck. However, before the argument could go any further, Aragorn broke in angrily.
"Stop your childish games!" he demanded. "Someone tell me what in the name of Manwe is going on here!?"
Legolas jumped guiltily and dropped his knife. He had completely forgotten about the Ranger. With a sigh of relief Boromir rubbed his neck where the knife had left a cold imprint on his skin.
"Tell me!" commanded the irate Ranger.
The Fellowship exchanged glances.
The leaves overhead rustled in the morning breeze. Birds began to break out in song, praising the return of Anor, and the restoration of colour to the land around.
Aragorn looked at them furiously. "Screw you all!" he shouted angrily.
"You seem to have already done that, my King" answered Boromir, breaking into a grin at Aragorn's discomfort.
The Ranger fumed. Damn them all to Gorgoroth and back. He gave the Steward a choleric glare.
"Maybe I just don't want to be King any more!" he shouted. "You can keep Gondor all to yourself. It's a crappy city anyway. Here you can even have the stupid sword!"

He pulled Anduril from his sheath and flung it onto the ground. With a clang, the sword hit a stone and shattered.
"Oops" murmured Boromir quietly.
"Oh dear," commented Gandalf, "Elrond will not be pleased."
Aragorn stared at the sword apoplectically, moronic disbelief spread across his face.
"Well, you did last for 60 years when it was broken, I trust that you will learn to cope quite well without it again," Boromir said consolingly.
"Maybe you can use Frodo's sword," suggested Merry helpfully. "You never use it, do you Frodo; you just drop it all the time."
Frodo looked down at Sting, "It's a bit small..." he protested.
"Maybe we could tie it up with string-...or something" proposed Pippin, inspecting the shards of Anduril.
Merry looked at the pieces of sword doubtfully. "It looks very broken Pip," he said.
"It's just as the old Gaffer always says to me," commented Sam sagely, "you're nought but a ninnyhammer, Samwise. And I'm thinking he'd be saying that to you now Strider, sir."
The first unbroken rays of sunlight suddenly reached into the clearing, sprinkling the company with golden beams of light, and causing complex patterns of colour to break up the shadows of the night. The mountains behind them sparkled in the early morning sun; the snow glinting in a delirious dance that was reflected and refracted in the shattered metal blade of the sword.
"I don't think string would work" Boromir stated, picking up the hilt and swinging it casually.
"It was very old anyway," noted Pippin.
"That's true," agreed Gandalf.
"It's probably about time you got a new one, Aragorn," continued Pippin cheerfully.
Aragorn glowered at them with a rabid look in his eyes. "Damn shoddy Elf workmanship!" he shouted hysterically.
Legolas bristled visibly. "It's your damn neurotic human temperament, Mate!" he shouted back.
"Like you can talk, you narcissistic Elf!" returned the manic Ranger as he leapt violently at Legolas, and the Elf found himself tackled to the ground for the second time that morning. He gave an enraged shriek, and within seconds there was an untidy ball of long blonde hair and leather clad limbs, catapulting rampantly across the clearing, emitting loud shouts of "think you're so good don't you, you ego-centric pointy-eared freak!" and "you're just jealous 'cos you haven't had a wash since you were born, Mate!" at random intervals.
The company watched the spectacle silently. Eventually Gandalf turned away, shaking his head in resignation. It had been a long night.
"I need to sleep," he said bluntly, stepping around the ferocious ball of arms and legs, and collapsing on his bedroll. He pulled his blanket over his head and waved an arm vaguely.
"Wake me when the Elves discover coffee" he mumbled through his hat, and within seconds had degenerated into a pile of grey fuzz and loud nasal snores.

Boromir tossed the money bag between his hands idly. The remaining members of the Fellowship, watched it greedily as it moved gracefully through the air.

Noticing their eyes on the money, the Steward grinned and swung the bag tauntingly over their heads.
"I wager..." he said roguishly, " that Aragorn sleeps with the fair Elf this night."
the end.
the finished productI hope everybody likes it!
the thanksmany random yays to all the people who have given me reviews. I was very excited to get them!
the random advertising if you liked the fic, please check out the site on my author bio!
the futureI think I like this fanfic writing deal. I have discvered that it is rather fun.