Laura is upset that I wrote this. Im not entirely sure why. I mean, what's
so wrong with Aragorn and Boromir doing Dom? I mean, its not *that* bad!
All that thrusting and licking and… Laura? Laura, put the knife down…Im
sorry to anyone that has traumatic experiences from reading this chapter.
Laura did. And she still hasn't forgiven me…. And she would like to remind
you that she don't like Elrondododododo… I do, but she says he frightens
her almost as much as Orville… which I think, is a tad unfair… The only
thing Laura likes about that image is the tight, white, testicle
restricting leather pants… Manic Street Preachers stylee…
Laura's story, Of Lazy Days And Spaghetti Balrogs, has been deleted most unfairlylylylyly. Nasty ff.net people. But fear not! The Author is breeding Rps with LotR-slash. She is creating a Website in the Caverns of Rowan's Garage; one that will be on-line and free to anyone who wishes to read it.
Laura would like to point out that she has no input on this website, other than to fling ideas in my general direction, and quote many, many Manic Street Preachers songs at me. It'll be up soon!
Ooh, just thought I'd mention that I'm going to be getting Bedrooms and Hallways on video in a couple of weeks… YAY! If any of you don't know what this is, it's a film in which Hugo Weaving (my beloved Elrond) will be half- naked with a guy on a bed… all kissing and fondling… and against a wall… and on the floor in the afore-mentioned hallway…. Ooooh, I cannae wait!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The fellowship hurried out of Moria, and past a gang of orcs that were hanging round the exit, smoking pipes and comparing body piercings. Legolas had decided that, as penance for stressing him so much he got a headache (elves never get stress headaches – except Elrond. Well, he did have a crazy stalker who called him Elly and an Author intent on seeing him in as many degrading outfits as possible), he let Aragorn take lead. Legolas retreated to the back of the group and tried to think comforting thoughts of the good old days when Kings wore proper clothes and showed elves the proper respect…
Aragorn ran ahead a little way, through a shallow pool and on to look over the rocks to see the woods of Lothlorien.
"Behold the Golden Wood." He smiled, turning to the others.
"Behold! The Bath of Aragorn!" Boromir added sarcastically, noting Aragorn's damp boots. "That'll last another month or so, won't it?" Aragorn scowled at him.
"Come on. We need to get to the woods before nightfall."
"Why?" Boromir got no reply, and followed the ranger with a deep sigh.
Merry looked over at Pippin, who was biting his lip worriedly.
"Pip?"
"Why do I feel like crying?" He whispered, leaning a little closer to Merry, who slipped his arm round the younger hobbits shoulders.
"It's okay Pip." He murmured. Pippin sniffed and clung on to Merry's hand tightly as they followed Aragorn and Boromir.
Orlando watched Elijah chat to Frodo with a concerned look on his (oh so handsome) face (awww, nice mental image there… got it? Good). He glanced over his shoulder to see Sam watching him, then quickly turn away when he realised the Thing had seen him. He sighed gently, and decided to have a word with him later.
The group ran/skipped through the field and into the woods of Lothlorien. All was quiet as they admired the unchanging beauty of the Golden Wood.
"Cool." Elijah said appreciatively. The others nodded in agreement, though most of them didn't know why, as it was quite a warm day.
"I think we should stay a little while…" Billy muttered, a little weakly. He looked pale, and was clutching his stomach.
"Billy!" Sean hurried over and helped Billy sit as comfortable as possible on the floor in yet another clearing, on a carpet of golden leaves. "Oh Billy. You shouldn't have gone on that ride." Billy groaned in agreement, and wrapped his arms round Sean's waist, leaning his head against the taller man's chest.
"We shall stay here a little while then." Aragorn sighed, and looked around at the group. Which was when he realised the group was actually smaller. "Where's Dom?"
"Sam... Can I have a word?" The hobbit looked round to see Orlando walking towards him. Looking round nervously, then back at Orlando, Sam nodded. Orlando rested his hand lightly on the young hobbits shoulder as he led him away from the rest of the group and to a small (but still very beautiful) clearing.
"Orli..."
"Sam, let me." Orlando ran his hand through his hair a little nervously, then sat down, and patted the grass next to him. Sam sat down. "Sam, I... I'm sorry Sam, but I... I like you as a friend nothing more."
"But... But we kissed... you kissed me..." Sam gripped Orlando's arm.
"Sam, it was the Author. I like you Sam. I'm very fond of you. But, I love Elijah. I've always loved Elijah. It was the Author making me feel what I did. You understand, don't you?"
"You... you never felt anything? Nothing at all?" Orlando winced at the raw pain that was in the young hobbits voice.
"Yes I felt something. But I know it was the Author making me feel it... I'm sorry Sam."
"Its okay. I understand." Sam stood up and roughly rubbed his eyes. "Does... Does Elijah know?"
"Yes... that's why he kissed Sean actually..."
"Oh what a tangled web we weave..." Sam murmured. Then frowned. "What do you suppose that means? Why am i stealing Merry's lines? Why am I reciting poetry? Why does no-one like me? What's wrong with me?" And with that, Sam sat down and started to cry.
"Oh Samwise." Orlando moved to sit next to him, and pulled the hobbit close, kissing his forehead and slowly rubbing his back.
"Dominic?" Aragorn called, moving through the woods, followed slowly by Boromir, who was kicking dead, but still beautifully golden, leaves out of his path.
"Don't see why we 'ave to go find 'im." he muttered to himself, picking up a fallen branch and absentmindedly whacking a tree with it. He yelped as the tree whacked him back.
"Well, Legolas thinks its all our fault. I think we really upset him."
"We dint do nowt!" Boromir protested, dropping the branch onto a poor unsuspecting woodland creature. "S'not our fault those stupid hobbits got int' way."
"Come on, the sooner we find him, the sooner we can get out of here." He said, and Boromir followed him, protesting loudly.
Dominic woke up in a stunningly beautiful clearing. He groaned and rubbed his head, then sat up. He realised that his shirt was open and hanging off his shoulder. His boots had disappeared, and his trousers seemed to have shrunk into rather tight effeminate leggings that happened to be white and made of leather (manics stylee).
"Huh." He said, as he assessed his situation. He tried to stand up, but ended up falling back into the position he was in when he woke. That is, flat on his back. He tried again, propping himself up on his elbows. Which was when he was joined by Aragorn and Boromir.
Aragorn gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the bits of twig that were being flung at the back of his neck and in his hair. His hand gripped the hilt of Anduril tightly, and he had started wondering whether Boromir would like to go back to the land of the unliving, when he stumbled across a clearing. Boromir walked into him, then stepped round him to see what he was staring at.
"Well, slap my thigh and call me a Uruk-Hai..." He breathed, but Aragorn ignored him, staring in open-mouthed shock at the Thing lying in the clearing before them.
"Guys, help me up..." Dominic said, though his voice came out a little deeper and huskier than he intended.
"You want us to help you up?" Boromir seemed to be having difficulty grasping that concept, and Aragorn had the sudden and disturbing thought that maybe he should be grasping something else instead. He shook his head to get rid of the images but to no avail. He opened his eyes to see Dominic still lying there, looking very enticing in the golden light that was filtering through between the trees. "Aragorn... Aragorn, you said no slash, remember?" Boromir muttered to Aragorn.
"Yeah..." Aragorn murmured moving forward as if in a daze.
"Aragorn... Aragorn, maybe you shouldn't..." Boromir spoke no more however, as the shock of seeing Aragorn kneel down and passionately kiss the Thing lying below him gave the Author enough time to draw him into the heated embrace in the middle of the clearing.
"Boromir!" Dominic seemed to have suddenly realised what was going on and exactly who it was that was sucking on his neck. Just as Aragorn decided that Dom's chest looked a little mucky and needed a tongue bath... (nice images there, Laura... Laura? Oh, she's run away screaming... why is that?)
The fellowship, minus Boromir, Aragorn, Dominic (who were rather tied up at this precise moment in time), Sam and Orli, were lazing round a clearing, which was undeniably beautiful but, hey there are only so many clearings you can see before they all merge into one. Legolas suspected that they were, in fact, all one clearing that the Author was forcing them to go through, albeit with a face-lift or two. Maybe this was some kind of Elven hell. Just as he was explaining this theory to Sean, he heard something. Something rather odd. Something about… chameleons. Legolas frowned slightly and was just about to ask Sean what a chameleon was, when an elf leapt into the clearing….
Laura's story, Of Lazy Days And Spaghetti Balrogs, has been deleted most unfairlylylylyly. Nasty ff.net people. But fear not! The Author is breeding Rps with LotR-slash. She is creating a Website in the Caverns of Rowan's Garage; one that will be on-line and free to anyone who wishes to read it.
Laura would like to point out that she has no input on this website, other than to fling ideas in my general direction, and quote many, many Manic Street Preachers songs at me. It'll be up soon!
Ooh, just thought I'd mention that I'm going to be getting Bedrooms and Hallways on video in a couple of weeks… YAY! If any of you don't know what this is, it's a film in which Hugo Weaving (my beloved Elrond) will be half- naked with a guy on a bed… all kissing and fondling… and against a wall… and on the floor in the afore-mentioned hallway…. Ooooh, I cannae wait!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The fellowship hurried out of Moria, and past a gang of orcs that were hanging round the exit, smoking pipes and comparing body piercings. Legolas had decided that, as penance for stressing him so much he got a headache (elves never get stress headaches – except Elrond. Well, he did have a crazy stalker who called him Elly and an Author intent on seeing him in as many degrading outfits as possible), he let Aragorn take lead. Legolas retreated to the back of the group and tried to think comforting thoughts of the good old days when Kings wore proper clothes and showed elves the proper respect…
Aragorn ran ahead a little way, through a shallow pool and on to look over the rocks to see the woods of Lothlorien.
"Behold the Golden Wood." He smiled, turning to the others.
"Behold! The Bath of Aragorn!" Boromir added sarcastically, noting Aragorn's damp boots. "That'll last another month or so, won't it?" Aragorn scowled at him.
"Come on. We need to get to the woods before nightfall."
"Why?" Boromir got no reply, and followed the ranger with a deep sigh.
Merry looked over at Pippin, who was biting his lip worriedly.
"Pip?"
"Why do I feel like crying?" He whispered, leaning a little closer to Merry, who slipped his arm round the younger hobbits shoulders.
"It's okay Pip." He murmured. Pippin sniffed and clung on to Merry's hand tightly as they followed Aragorn and Boromir.
Orlando watched Elijah chat to Frodo with a concerned look on his (oh so handsome) face (awww, nice mental image there… got it? Good). He glanced over his shoulder to see Sam watching him, then quickly turn away when he realised the Thing had seen him. He sighed gently, and decided to have a word with him later.
The group ran/skipped through the field and into the woods of Lothlorien. All was quiet as they admired the unchanging beauty of the Golden Wood.
"Cool." Elijah said appreciatively. The others nodded in agreement, though most of them didn't know why, as it was quite a warm day.
"I think we should stay a little while…" Billy muttered, a little weakly. He looked pale, and was clutching his stomach.
"Billy!" Sean hurried over and helped Billy sit as comfortable as possible on the floor in yet another clearing, on a carpet of golden leaves. "Oh Billy. You shouldn't have gone on that ride." Billy groaned in agreement, and wrapped his arms round Sean's waist, leaning his head against the taller man's chest.
"We shall stay here a little while then." Aragorn sighed, and looked around at the group. Which was when he realised the group was actually smaller. "Where's Dom?"
"Sam... Can I have a word?" The hobbit looked round to see Orlando walking towards him. Looking round nervously, then back at Orlando, Sam nodded. Orlando rested his hand lightly on the young hobbits shoulder as he led him away from the rest of the group and to a small (but still very beautiful) clearing.
"Orli..."
"Sam, let me." Orlando ran his hand through his hair a little nervously, then sat down, and patted the grass next to him. Sam sat down. "Sam, I... I'm sorry Sam, but I... I like you as a friend nothing more."
"But... But we kissed... you kissed me..." Sam gripped Orlando's arm.
"Sam, it was the Author. I like you Sam. I'm very fond of you. But, I love Elijah. I've always loved Elijah. It was the Author making me feel what I did. You understand, don't you?"
"You... you never felt anything? Nothing at all?" Orlando winced at the raw pain that was in the young hobbits voice.
"Yes I felt something. But I know it was the Author making me feel it... I'm sorry Sam."
"Its okay. I understand." Sam stood up and roughly rubbed his eyes. "Does... Does Elijah know?"
"Yes... that's why he kissed Sean actually..."
"Oh what a tangled web we weave..." Sam murmured. Then frowned. "What do you suppose that means? Why am i stealing Merry's lines? Why am I reciting poetry? Why does no-one like me? What's wrong with me?" And with that, Sam sat down and started to cry.
"Oh Samwise." Orlando moved to sit next to him, and pulled the hobbit close, kissing his forehead and slowly rubbing his back.
"Dominic?" Aragorn called, moving through the woods, followed slowly by Boromir, who was kicking dead, but still beautifully golden, leaves out of his path.
"Don't see why we 'ave to go find 'im." he muttered to himself, picking up a fallen branch and absentmindedly whacking a tree with it. He yelped as the tree whacked him back.
"Well, Legolas thinks its all our fault. I think we really upset him."
"We dint do nowt!" Boromir protested, dropping the branch onto a poor unsuspecting woodland creature. "S'not our fault those stupid hobbits got int' way."
"Come on, the sooner we find him, the sooner we can get out of here." He said, and Boromir followed him, protesting loudly.
Dominic woke up in a stunningly beautiful clearing. He groaned and rubbed his head, then sat up. He realised that his shirt was open and hanging off his shoulder. His boots had disappeared, and his trousers seemed to have shrunk into rather tight effeminate leggings that happened to be white and made of leather (manics stylee).
"Huh." He said, as he assessed his situation. He tried to stand up, but ended up falling back into the position he was in when he woke. That is, flat on his back. He tried again, propping himself up on his elbows. Which was when he was joined by Aragorn and Boromir.
Aragorn gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the bits of twig that were being flung at the back of his neck and in his hair. His hand gripped the hilt of Anduril tightly, and he had started wondering whether Boromir would like to go back to the land of the unliving, when he stumbled across a clearing. Boromir walked into him, then stepped round him to see what he was staring at.
"Well, slap my thigh and call me a Uruk-Hai..." He breathed, but Aragorn ignored him, staring in open-mouthed shock at the Thing lying in the clearing before them.
"Guys, help me up..." Dominic said, though his voice came out a little deeper and huskier than he intended.
"You want us to help you up?" Boromir seemed to be having difficulty grasping that concept, and Aragorn had the sudden and disturbing thought that maybe he should be grasping something else instead. He shook his head to get rid of the images but to no avail. He opened his eyes to see Dominic still lying there, looking very enticing in the golden light that was filtering through between the trees. "Aragorn... Aragorn, you said no slash, remember?" Boromir muttered to Aragorn.
"Yeah..." Aragorn murmured moving forward as if in a daze.
"Aragorn... Aragorn, maybe you shouldn't..." Boromir spoke no more however, as the shock of seeing Aragorn kneel down and passionately kiss the Thing lying below him gave the Author enough time to draw him into the heated embrace in the middle of the clearing.
"Boromir!" Dominic seemed to have suddenly realised what was going on and exactly who it was that was sucking on his neck. Just as Aragorn decided that Dom's chest looked a little mucky and needed a tongue bath... (nice images there, Laura... Laura? Oh, she's run away screaming... why is that?)
The fellowship, minus Boromir, Aragorn, Dominic (who were rather tied up at this precise moment in time), Sam and Orli, were lazing round a clearing, which was undeniably beautiful but, hey there are only so many clearings you can see before they all merge into one. Legolas suspected that they were, in fact, all one clearing that the Author was forcing them to go through, albeit with a face-lift or two. Maybe this was some kind of Elven hell. Just as he was explaining this theory to Sean, he heard something. Something rather odd. Something about… chameleons. Legolas frowned slightly and was just about to ask Sean what a chameleon was, when an elf leapt into the clearing….