Part 5: Pretty is as Pretty Does
Narrative interlude ...
It may come as no surprise that the Valar have taken a direct hand in the outcome of the events that would affect the people of Middle Earth for ever and ever, amen.
Of course, there are historical precedents for such things happening. The Greek Gods intervened in the affairs of man. The next time you see a spider, you can know that if one of them hadn't been such a jealous bitch, you wouldn't have to shake your shoes out before you put them on.
The Valar are divine, worshiped by the masses and given to greatness even if occasionally accidentally. Of course, they would have off days. As it stood, on this occasion, it was a slow day in the undying lands and Elbereth was looking into her crystal pool, checking out the comings and goings of the lesser but much loved beings that populated Middle Earth.
"What are you doing?" Manwe asked, glancing up from the game on the tube to where his wife stood, transfixed by the view on her own rather archaic receiver.
"I'm looking at my darling elves, my lovely, darling elves."
"Oh," Manwe said, turning back to the Detroit-Chicago game. "You aren't going to meddle again, are you?"
She glanced up, a slight frown on her perfect features. "I don't meddle. I facilitate."
Manwe nodded, sipping his beer. "Right. The last time you meddled, the Dunedain needed a boat."
"You are never going to let that one go," she sulked, staring once again at the companions as they trudged along the trail. "I want to help my creations. I want to make sure they have all the love and happiness they can handle."
"Iluvatar help us now," Manwe mumbled as he watched the Detroit quarterback get flattened once more.
**********On the trail...
Boromir and Aragorn walked at the end, pausing where they could to french and grope and fondle each other when no one was looking. It didn't matter that they were rivals, that Boromir was a pretender to the throne that belonged to Aragorn ... they were in lust and all that mattered was the Big O.
By the time they stopped for the night, they had made plans to go into the woods and shag in earnest. They dawdled over dinner, arguing over who would get guard duty. Frodo got the short straw but was overruled by Boromir on the grounds that he wouldn't be tall enough to see trouble coming if it bit him on his rather shapely ass.
Frodo sulked as Boromir and Aragorn arranged for guard duty, moving into the darkness until they were not seen by anyone. The others pouted, thwarted in their horniness but went to bed as instructed by Da-, that is, Gandalf.
Soon it was quiet.
"Psst."
Aragorn turned. "Boromir?"
"Over here."
Aragorn tip-toed over and found himself sucking face with a very happy Boromir. He gasped. "Turn around."
"Why?"
"I want to do you. Turn around."
"Why me? Why not you? *You* turn around."
"I can't."
"You can't? What do you mean you can't turn around?"
Aragorn sighed. "Because I'm a top."
Pause.
"So am I."
Pause. "Don't take this the wrong way but you can't be a top."
"Why not? Why can't I be a top, Aragorn?"
"Because I'm a top and there can't be two tops. Two tops don't make a bottom."
Pause.
"I want to be on top."
"You can't be, Boromir. You can't be on top because I'm a Chieftain of the Dunedain and how can I go to Dunedain stuff knowing that I bottomed?"
Pause.
"How can I look my old man in the eye and know that I took it up the behind from the Heir of Isildur?"
"That's easy. Just ask Elrond next time you see him."
"Elrond?"
"Sure. Who was the first person who got screwed by Isildur?"
"Ah ... Elrond. Okay."
Boromir turned and after a moment or two of fumbling, they began the forbidden dance of love.
**********Nearby ...
Lying on the hard ground, Sam's arm nearly strangling him as it was draped over his body, Frodo daydreamed of having wild monkey sex with Aragorn once more. It was nice and quiet, but for the strange animal noises coming out of the woods but that didn't distract him from his happy reverie.
/... this must be what elves have when they lay around and daydream .../ He sighed. /... Aragorn, Aragorn ... I hardly knew ye ... *where are you*? .../
Pippin snored, Merry lying quietly beside him. He considered Frodo, the odd way he was walking around mooning over the tall Numenorean male, Aragorn. It was unnatural, wanting a person more than twice your height. Aragorn was certainly comely enough but he was just too tall. The idea of riding Aragorn's pony made him cringe. No way would he be able to do it and he was taller than Frodo.
He glanced at Frodo, watching the handsome hobbit as he lay daydreaming. Frodo was really gone. He wondered if Sam knew? Maybe he would tell him in the morning ...
**********The next morning ...
"!*WHAT*!"
"Now, Sam ... you *promised* you wouldn't get all riled up," Merry said, peering over his shoulder to see if any one else was aware of Sam's distress.
"I promised but I don't have to *keep* it," Sam hissed. He glared at Aragorn, who was sitting and polishing his sword. His steel one that is. "I am going to *kill* him!"
Merry sighed and turned, picking up his pack. Dad had called them to go and he made his way forward, preferring to walk alongside of Gandalf, rather than wade in the rage pool that surrounded Sam Gamgee.
Frodo walked along oblivious to anything but his emerging feelings for Aragorn.
**********Later on the trail...
Aragorn turned, looking around to see who had pitched a stone at him. The hobbits, but for Sam and Bill, were ahead of him, as was everyone else. From the look of deep innocence on Sam's face, he couldn't conceive of the hobbit being the guilty party.
Someone was throwing stones at him and he was concerned. He turned and continued on, worry nagging at him as he walked.
/... I would worry, you ... you ... *tall guy*! ... you think Mr. Frodo is a grape ripe for plucking ... all that sweet juice yours to drink ... all that pure ripe flesh ... that virginity that cries out for taking ... that ... that .../
"Gandalf?"
Gandalf stopped and stared back. "What, Sam?"
"I gotta stop for a second."
Gandalf sighed and nodded and they all paused as Sam ducked behind a rock and whacked off. By the time he was done, the sun was hot overhead. Everyone watched him pick up his pack and turn, shooting dark looks at Aragorn. Frodo walked back and smiled up at Aragorn.
"My feet hurt," he said, his eyes twinkling.
"Let me carry you, Frodo. I promised to go with you, to the very fires of Mordor," Aragorn said, picking up the little hobbit. He settled Frodo on his shoulders, holding on to his little hobbit ankles.
Frodo sighed, considering how much fun it would be to bounce his crotch against Aragorn's head for the next fifty miles. As they began to walk on, Sam sputtered and muttered behind them.
/... to the fires of Mordor, *Frodo* ... fuck that! ... he's mine .../
**********Later that night ...
Frodo crept out of his blankets and sidled up to where Aragorn slept on the ground. Peering around, he crept into Aragorn's blankets, settling down around where his belly button was. He sighed, contented. Aragorn's eyes flew open as he felt small hands touching large things. Then he smiled and sighed, relaxing.
Sam watched, his mind in a whirl and sent prayers to Elbereth that he would be able to kill Aragorn soon.
Boromir paced on duty, his butt stinging from the frivolity of the night before. He sighed. The man was hot. He could pretend he was a bottom for a while. That is, as long as his bottom held out.
Gandalf smoked his pipe, noting his illegitimate children running around in the dark. He was worried about their morals, their proclivities to perform oral sex on complete strangers but he decided they would have to walk their own path. After all, he and the missus, Bilbo, had long ago decided that they had to learn to be independent. Prostitution was a good second career if the need for accountants wasn't there.
Legolas lay on his back, staring at the stars. He had counted at least 72,000 of them before he hiccuped and lost his place. Aragorn was lying over on the other side of the fire. He hadn't shagged him nor had he been shagged in a while. He was deeply and irretrievably in love with the shaggy-haired hottie and he had to do something to prove his undying love.
Maybe he would make him jealous by flirting with the dwarf. That was the ticket. He would make Aragorn jealous. Now ... what kind of pick up lines do you use with a dwarf?
/... Hi down there. How is the ... what? ... Sigh ... This was going to be hard ... thank Elbereth I'm pretty.../
Merry and Pippin snored as nearby, standing with a stoic expression on his long face, Bill the Pony kept vigil. He sighed in a very horsy way.
/... how the hell do I get in a chicken outfit like this? .../
*********Back in the Undying Lands ...
"You really have tossed a spanner in the works now. The elf is going to shag the dwarf to make the man jealous. The hobbit is going to shag the man who is going to get killed by the other hobbit. Then the wizard is going to find out the man is shagging his son and there will be a shotgun wedding, which will break the heart of the elf and the other man, whom you have twisted into being with the man they all seem to fancy." Manwe sighed. "My head hurts."
Elbereth smiled. "They aren't even to Moria yet."
"Gollum. I forgot about Gollum. Where does he fit in?"
"Wherever he wants, my darling King," Elbereth said with a smirk. "Wherever the little warthog wants."