Of Human's and Elves

Trio
by Janet Elizabeth

After weeks of suffering hardship and now the loss of Gandalf, Aragorn was weary. He wished he could take comfort in the arms of one of his lovers, but both had cut him off from all but the smallest affections. He sighed as he led the company from the ruin of their journey through Moria and thought of the two who held his heart and heat.

~ before ~

Boromir had kept to his word that all was done between them, that was until Aragorn found him staring over the evening fire with longing glances. On that night the future king of Gondor had made a subtle move towards healing the rift between him and his steward. With small signals he had led the Southerner away from the fire with the pretense of ensuring the safety of their camp. When they were finally far enough away to be alone, the Dunedan turned and faced Boromir, moving close to him in the darkness. He could feel the bigger man trembling but was heartened by the fact that he didn’t move away nor did he push him away. Standing close, his mouth a fraction from the younger man’s ear, he had whispered his feelings in full.

“I saw you watching me over the fire tonight.” Said Aragorn, his voice soft and his breath tickling the ear of the other. “I take this to mean that you still have feelings for me, feelings of more than a comradely nature. Feelings I share. I love you.”

There was silence for a moment as Boromir drew a few ragged breaths before turning his head to let his lips brush the Ranger’s ear.

“Those feelings mean nothing in the face of your betrayal.” He said, emotion dripping from every word. “I understand your bond with the elf maid. That is as it must be. But the Mirkwood Prince is another matter.”

Aragorn was startled by this revelation and he stepped back. As he did so he tripped over some rocky scree and landed on the ground on his back. He stared up at the dark form of the man he loved, his emotions waging war with his wisdom. After a moment or two, Boromir reached down and offered a hand to help the older man to his feet. When Aragorn was standing again, he released his hand with a lingering caress and walked back through the darkness to camp, leaving the heir of kings to ponder his indiscretion in the night.

~ daybreak that next morning ~

Legolas watched Boromir worriedly as the big man gathered his gear and helped Sam pack the pony. He could see that his friend looked weary from lack of sleep and the prince was concerned about the walk that the Southerner had taken the previous evening with Aragorn. He didn’t like the look of blank suffering in the Tirithean’s eyes. The bleakness there made the elf’s stomach churn and he began to be angry with Elessar for the first time. He longed to go to Boromir and comfort him, much as they had comforted each other many times since that night in Imladris. But he would wait patiently until they could be alone. Until then, he could only watch and hope that Boromir didn’t break under the strain. A rough grip on his upper arm startled him out of his reverie. He whirled to see the grim face of Aragorn and couldn’t ignore the flash of anger in the other’s eyes. He shocked the Ranger by meeting that fire with some of his own.

“I need to consult with you on something I have found outside our campsite. I know your elvish eyes are better than mine at reading some signs.” He hissed and pulled Legolas away from the group.

A few feet away and he knelt on the ground, pretending to study some tracks there, yanking the elf to kneel down beside him. Legolas didn’t resist but he also pushed the man’s hands away.

“Do not put your hands upon me.” He whispered forcefully. “Now state what you want, and quickly, so I may return to the company and my share of the burdens.”

Aragorn glanced at him, grey eyes cold and hard.

“What did you tell him? Why?” He shot back, his voice low and menacing.

“I told him nothing. He saw us, sporting in the woods. He beat me. But I forgave him when I found out why. You told him words of love. You opened his heart to things you humans deem unfit to feel between two men, except in secret and then you sported with me. None too discreetly either, I must say.” Said Legolas quietly, watching the reactions of the other.

Aragorn’s glare was filled with rage and the prince could see that the man longed to use his fists on him. Instead he merely leaned close until their cheeks almost touched.

“You came to me, might I remind you elf.” He said, a vein in his forehead pulsing along with his ire.

“You could have said no and I would have agreed.” Said the elf, returning the fiery gaze with his own icy glare. “You cannot blame me for your unfaithfulness. And I was not to know until much later the sweet things that you were saying to him. I did not know that you would love him nor he you. I did not know that you would use me while you loved another. And then of course there is your Arwen, your Evenstar. What of her?”

“Arwen is not a part of this and never will be. She will be my wife and I do love her, in my fashion.” Said the Ranger, lowering his eyes as his cheeks reddened. “But I can love another and did not expect it. I would have finished with you soon enough, Prince.”

Legolas laughed then and stood up. Aragorn followed hnd snd stood gazing intently into his pale blue eyes.

“And I you, but that does appease what you have done to the one you claim to love. I have made my amends and shown him true affection.” He said softly before turning his back and walking away. As he strolled casually back to the camp, he turned his head. “No Aragorn, I do not think those are anything but the prints of our pony. Perhaps you are losing your skill as a tracker?”

The elf laughed as he walked back to join the rest of the fellowship while Aragorn stood smiling over a joke he felt no mirth at.

~ now ~

They had finally reached Lorien and been received by the Lady and Lord. Their hurts were healing and their hearts too but Aragorn still had one wound thatld nld not heal. He felt bereft of the love of Boromir and it galled him that he could not seem to break through the wall the man had put his heart behind. He wandered through the Golden Wood lost in thought and paying no heed to where his feet led him.

He could think of nothing but pale skin, a light dusting of red-gold hair’s over sweet brown nipples, broad shoulders, strong arms, big calloused hands so gentle in their touch, a soft mouth and slippery tongue, flat stomach with it’s own trail leading to it’s treasure below, full buttocks so sweet to nestle hands or hips against, firm thighs spread wide or snugged tight around the waist, shapely calves and feet with sweet toes, but most of all those blue-green eyes with their heavy lids and long lashes that looked at him adoringly, longingly, lovingly, shyly and laughingly. He missed those eyes. He missed his lover.

Tears stung his lower lids and he raised a hand to dash them away. He paused a moment to gather himself, lest he meet an elf or one of his companions and they question his tears. But then he could always blame it on his grief over Gandalf. Still, it would not do to be found weeping so he wiped his face and breathed deeply to clear his head. As he paused, he looked around and found that he had wandered far in his musings. He was in a section of the wood that was left to grow as it pleased, as Galadriel let the eastern border do at times. It was an ordered tangle of trees and trailing vines, flowers and soft, sweet smelling mosses. He stood, breathing the fragrant air and wishing he could just hear the voice of Boromir raised in joy once more.

After a moment or two, he became aware that he could hear his love’s voice and raised in pleasure. He wondered at this and thought perhaps he was imagining it. Aragorn turned until he had found the direction of the noises and began to move quietly towards the obvious sounds of lovemaking.

As he drew closer, he could tell that it was Boromir and he was enjoying himself immensely. Long, loud gasps that Aragorn was used to hearing up close and in his ears, were coming from a small hillock that was surrounded by mallorn and golden beech. Moving closer he peered through the trunks and saw the man he loved sitting astride another man he couldn’t see. He was shocked at seeing his lover with another, especially riding a long cock that crammed it’s way in and out of that tight anus. Aragorn trembled with disbelief as he watched his love throw back his head, gripping the shoulders of the other and release his feelings in shouts and groans of pleasure. He couldn’t turn away as climax was reached and Boromir finally released the shaft of his lover from it’s tight enclosure. Aragorn waited in rising anger to see the face of the man who was bedding the one he loved. As the tall Southerner leaned in and kissed the man, the future king almost exploded with jealousy, but he held his place. He wanted to know who was giving pleasure to the man he lo An And then Boromir dismounted and curled protectively against the one he had just been fucking. Aragorn went white and then thought back to words that had been said to him in what felt like a different lifetime, ‘I have made my amends and shown him true affection.’.

Legolas. The deceitful slut. The whore of an elf prince. He who had spoken of betrayal and pain. Here was the elf taking what rightfully belonged to him. Aragorn felt crushed, his heart labouring to work, his lungs struggled to breathe, his stomach ready to rebel. He was devastated.
He turned from the scene of tenderness and began to run through the woods. He ran to escape his own feelings. He ran to escape betrayal. He ran to escape the things he had done to put him in this place of hurt. He ran from the truth.

~ later, under starlight ~

Later, much later after the stars had come out, Aragorn had stopped running. He had run almost to the Southern borders of the Wood when he finally collapsed in a trembling, sweat soaked, sobbing heap on the smooth floor of the forest. How long he lay there he didn’t know, but after a time he heard the soft sound of approaching footsteps, the footsteps of an elf. He didn’t recognize the tread, except to know it wasn’t a woman. Laying there, he hoped it would not be the betrayer.

Caring for nothing else, he lay there, listening to the footsteps approaching. He heard them falter as the intruder found him. He heard as the footsteps came slowly closer and then felt the movement of air as they knelt beside his supine form. He waited and was not disappointed as the touch came on his arm and then he was lifted from ground and carried to a mossy sward nearby. He didn’t open his eyes until the gentle voice addressed him. He was surprised enough at the owner of the voice to open his swollen eyes.

“Are you ill, my young friend?” Asked Celeborn, Lord of the Wood, gently.

At that, Aragorn sat up, wincing at the ache in his abused muscles.

“I do not wish to speak of it my Lord, though I am sure you could read what is wrong soon enough, if you so chose.” He said, his voice crackling from the dryness of too many shed tears.

The lordly elf regarded him a moment and Aragorn felt the familiar presence in his mind as questions were asked and answers sought. He feared the repercussions of this searching, as it was Celeborn’s granddaughter to whom he was betrothed, but none came. All he felt was understanding and then the presence was gone again. Cautiously, he gazed into the mild eyes that studied him.

“I see now what troubles you and I understand more than you might guess.” Celeborn said quietly, laying a hand on Aragorn’s troubled brow. “Do you think that the elves know nothing of this? We live many lifetimes of men and never die unless in battle or sorrow and we have many loves, sometimes more than one at once, though one is always more public than the other. We do not write nor sing of such loves because we know that others not of our race might not understand how we can truly love more than one at once and sometimes many at a time.

He paused and and drew the Ranger into a fatherly embrace, holding him gently and softly running his hands over his limbs. Aragorn felt his muscles ease and the tension leaving him as Celeborn continued.

“We know little of these practices among humans though for you, you were raised amongst us and know our ways. The young Boromir knows some of this as a man who spends his time in the company of other men, but he knows little of love amongst the elves.” He paused again and kissed Aragorn’s brow gently. “Let the Prince soothe him for a while and teach him of the joy of many loves and their trueness. Then, release the anger and hurt in your own heart and find love where you can. In the end, you will both find the comfort that you need. Sleep my friend and in the bright morning you may find that all is well.”

Aragorn felt his weariness steal over him and he was gently lowered to the moss. He barely knew when Celeborn left the little glade as he slipped into warm sleep.

~ * ~

Thund und of birds awakened Aragorn as the gentle light of day filtered through his fluttering lids. He yawned mightily and sat up, feeling no pain in his body from the previous days exertions. He sat staring up at the sky for a few moments before he realized he was not alone. From the corner of his eye he could see the glint of sunlight on white-gold hair. Blinking slowly he turned his head to face the young prince of Mirkwood.

The two regarded each other warily and thegolagolas held out a basket that sat beside him.

“You must be hungry. You have not eaten since yesterday breakfast. I have fruit, sweet cheese and a dark loaf for us to share.” He reached behind him and revealed a stoppered jug and two delicate yet sturdy goblets. As he uncorked the jug and began to pour a pale yellow wine into the cups, Aragorn uncovered the basket and began to dole out the food onto two white napkins in equal portions. Wordlessly they exchanged burdens, Legolas handing Aragorn a cup of wine and the Ranger handing the elf a cloth filled with food.

They ate and drank in silence, listening to the birdsong until all the food and drink was gone. They placed the empty jug, goblets and napkins into the basket. Legolas set it aside and moved closer, so that he was sitting cross-legged near Aragorn. The future king crossed his own limbs, yet not facing his former lover, and waited. Finally, the Ranger broke the silence.

“Lord Celeborn sent you to me?” He asked quietly.

Legolas shook his head.

“The Lady did” He replied. “She said you were in distress and that you would be feeling alone, unloved, unwanted. She told me, as your friend, I should offer you what comfort I could. She spoke on your behalf and said that I had been unfair. She said I was acting human.”

With this last, he smiled slightly and shyly touched Aragorn’s knee with a long finger. The Dunedan tried not to smile but couldn’t help himself. His grin earned him a gentle caress on his cheek. The smile faded and Legolas removed his hand, studying his friend warily.

“Lord Celeborn came to me. He said you were showing Bor-, him the ways of elves. Helping him to understand the choice of many loves. I thought it was to punish me and to atone for your injury to him.” Said the future king, wishing the tears wouldn’t spring quite so readily to his eyes.

Legolas sighed heavily and lowered his head to stare at the dark, winter grass. Aragorn waited, wondering what the reply would be. Finally the fair haired elf spoke.

“At first, it was to comfort him and to right a wrong that I had made.” He said softly. “And then it was to hurt you, wanting you to feel some of the pain that you had caused us both. But now...I have thought long and hard and know that it could be so much more. If you could, would...”

Clear blue eyes gazed at the Ranger with longing and need. Aragorn strained to read the question there, begun with words and then uns unsaid. He shifted his position so that he was facing the prince and reaching out, took his face into his hands. He let his palms cup the tender cheeks, his thumbs caressing soft lips. Then suddenly the elf leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his mouth, leaving him with the faintest taste of warm flesh and cool wine.

Both of them sat for a moment, looking askance at each other when Legolas stood in one fluid movement, taking Aragorn’s hand in his own and pulling hi his his feet.

“Walk with me, here, in this place of majesty and beauty. Just walk” Said the young/old prince.

He twined his long archer’s fingers with the thicker digits of the Dunedan’s and tugged gently to make him follow. Aragorn allowed himself to be led and after a short while, as they wandered among the paths of the Golden Wood, he no longer followed but walked beside. No words were spoken. None were needed as thought and understanding went hand in hand.

~ at twilight again ~

All day had the man and the elf ambled from grove to dell through the great wood, taking pleasure in the small movements of the woodland creatures, listening to the trilling rivers and inhaling the clean warm scents of the flora. They had said few words to each other and none on the subject of their mutual situation, but both of them knew that the silence must end. The sound of a deep voice behind them brought them to an abrupt halt. Both man and elf turned quickly, Aragorn pulling his hand away as they faced Boromir of Gondor.

“Hello my friend.” Said Legolas witgentgentle smile and he approached the Southerner to plant a warm kiss on his lips.

Boromir returned the kiss softly, but kept his eyes on the other man. Aragorn stood watching the exchange, his eyes guarded.

“Hello. I’ve been searching for you. Haldir said you would be in this area a short while ago and I have been waiting.” Said the Tirithean, his eyes never leaving the future king.

Legolas put his hand on Boromir’s cheek and turned his face to his own. After a moment searching the big man’s eyes, he smiled again and was rewarded with a returning smile.

“I am glad to see you.” Said the elf, and he stepped towards Aragorn, taking his hand and pulling him into the circle of two to make it three. “We are both glad to see you. Are we not, Aragorn?”

The grey-eyed Ranger inhaled quickly before replying.

“I am always glad to see my friend Boromir.” He said, his voice low and filled with resonating emotion.

The tall Southerner shied away from the sound of his lover’s voice and tried to step away, but Legolas held him fast with a sudden arm around his waist. He slipped an arm about Aragorn’s waist too, knowing he had to keep them both in close proximity. Both men trembled but stopped resisting the gentle insistent pressure from the Mirkwood prince.

“Now I want you both to listen to me. Don’t speak until I have finished and given permission. Do you understand?” He looked at both men in turn and both nodded their agreement, then returned to gazing at each other as Legolas continued. “You have boeen een given a gift of great magnitude. You both have commitment to family for heirs of your own, but you also have love in your hearts enough for more than any woman of your choosing. You love each other. Lovers should not be kept apart by foolish anger and mistaken hurts. We have all made mistakes and been unsure of how we felt.”

“I have never been unsure!” Said Boromir harshly.

Legolas silenced him with a raised eyebrow and then flashed the same look to Aragorn who was about to reply.

“I didn’t give you permission yet my Southern peach. Now hush and let me finish.” He continued his lecture. “But we are grown, not children, though to me you both seem very young.” He smiled at this before finishing. “Love is at the heart of what we all feel, be it jealousy or passion, and love is what we all can share. We can be together, the three of us, our own alliance of men and elf.”

He laughed at his little joke and waited for the two men to respond. Neither spoke for a moment until Aragorn’s grin burst through his serious expression. Boromir’s laugh followed and the two men reached out to each other at last, putting their arms around the other until all three were sharing an embrace. When the laughter died down, Aragorn finally spoke.

“I have done the most harm.” He said, his face grim again. “I have wronged you both. I have taken and abused your hearts without a thought as to what you might feel. But I have changed from the man you first engaged with. I am no longer that callow man with only thoughts of my future. Now you both are part of my future, or so I hope.”

The Ranger looked up then and saw that Boromir was weeping. Aragorn closed his eyes and began to pull away but the other man and elf held him fast.

“Do not leave me again. You have done too much of that of late. And I have let you go, nay, I have sent you, though I want nothing more than to keep you as close as time and our future’s allow.” Said the Tirithean, his voice filled with tears and deep need.

With those words he flung himself at Aragorn, almost knocking him from his feet and embraced him with an overwhelming passion. Steadying himself, the future king embraced his steward back and stroked his hair as he wept against his neck. After a moment the big man released his tight grip and turned to look at the waiting elf.

“And I do not wish to lose you either Legolas, though you may think I only sport with you. You have shown me that more love exists in the world than I had ethouthought.” He fought the sobbing in his throat to speak. “Can we not all love together?”

Legolas smiled, his eyes shining with unspilt tears. He stepped towards the two men that he loved and who loved each other, took them both by a hand and led them quickly to a nearby mallorn. Releasing them briefly, he sprung up the trunk to a flet above.

“Come my friends, my loves, we can share ourselves in private here, a tender trio in the trees.” He said and laughed lightly, letting down a light rope and gesturing for them to follow him.

Both men scrambled up the ladder, one after the other and tumbled to the flet surface with childlike giggles. Quickly, they settled into a three-way embrace and began to make love to one another. Legolas let Boromir and Aragorn lead off as he watched the two attach themselves hungrily to the other.

Shyly Aragorn looked askance at the other man as his fingertips dabbled in the open neck of Boromir’s tunic. The big man grinned at him and pulled the garment off. Grey-blue eyes gazed longingly at the bare flesh and then his hands were running over the muscled expanse. Using his fingers gently, he teased at his steward’s nipples until they were turgid, their colour darkening. He lowered his mouth to suckle at each tiny bud and was rewarded with breathy moans of pleasure. Boromir tangled his hands in his king’s long locks as he was pushed down against the surface of the flet. The big Southerner trembled as Aragorn tugged at the fastenings of his breeches and then shivered as they were flung aside and the cool air flowed over his now bare body. Boots were tugged off and tumbled from the flet to the ground. He stared up at the cover of leaves above and then was rewarded by the sight of his love above him.

Aragorn lay down upon the warrior’s body and embraced him tightly, their mouths meeting to exchange deep, liquid kisses. Two hardened members ground and rubbed against each other, painfully at times, though neither objected so intent were they on their passion. An eternity of moments later, Aragorn paused and pushed himself up to regard the face below his.

“I’m afraid I have nothing to ease my entry except my own saliva.” He said, trying to keep the absurdity of the comment from making him smile. “I had not thought to bring any oil with me.”

Boromir flushed and stroked his hand from neck to belly before replying. But his words were stopped by Legolas who suddenly cuddled up to the two men’s bodies.

“Glad you both are of my presence of mind then.” He said, his eyes dancing with glee as he held out a small phial of oily liquid.

The three shared a chuckle as the stopper was popped out and oil was poured into Boromir’s waiting palm. With a saucy grin on his face, the Southerner reached down and began to massage the oil into the curved, hardened cock of his king. Aragorn moaned softly and held out his hand for some oil. Legolas obliged him and then the Ranger’s hand was oiling the puckered anus of his love. Boromir squirmed slightly as the thick digits invaded his hole but settled when the oily hand slid up under his balls for a slippery squeeze and then gently pulling his hard cock to lay along his belly. Aragorn sat back, kneeling before the supine form and massaging his shaft he then pointed it at the dark, deep recess where he ached to nestle himself.

Legolas watched closely, enjoying the sight of the two men pleasuring each other, but he couldn’t not wait for his own pleasure and took Boromir’s ample manhood into his mouth as he put his own oily hands down to massage his own member. Aragorn watched the elf as he licked the thick shaft and teased the head of his own cock against the puckered hole before him. He locked eyes with his steward and waited for his love to ready himself. With one deep breath, Boromir exhaled and his anus relaxed enough for Aragorn to push the tip of his cock inside. A trembling groan escaped the Southerner’s lips and then a long drawn out sigh as the entire shaft was pushed deeper to the hilt. He stroked Legolas’ hair as delight began to overwhelm him.

Aragorn thrust gently in and out of the beautiful man beneath him as he watched the lovely elf use his mouth in gratification. But Legolas could stand no more and removed his lips from around the rigid shaft of the Tirithean. He kissed the man gently, then rose to his knees and gently kissed the other man. Both men paused for a moment to watch what their elvish lover was doing. He surprised them both by positioning himself behind Aragorn and pushing him carefully forward until the two men were laying belly to belly.

“Be at ease my dear Aragorn, I only want to join you both. Relax yourself for a moment so I may enter into your warmth.” Said the elf, his voice husky with desire.

Staring into Boromir’s eyes and smiling, Aragorn did as the elf bade him and took several deep breaths to release the tension in his own entrance. He held his breath as he felt the smooth tip press against him and the long, slender shaft was embedded inside him. He felt as if his balls would explode but he held his seed for the more mutual climax that would come.

When Legolas had nestled himself comfortably within the body of the Ranger, he kissed the shoulders of the man and began to slowly set the rhythm for the three of them. He pulled his shaft out until only the tip remained inside and waited for Aragorn to do the same. The Dunedan did and as he did so, Legolas was pushed back inside the velvety tightness. When Aragorn thrust slowly back into Boromir, the elf followed.

And so their rhythm was set, first Legolas, then Aragorn and Boromir spreading his legs wide to accommodate the two of them and fondling his own cock. Three sets of testes jumbled together in pleasant sensation, while two cocks thrust in and out of tender, dark and deep places. Soon, their pace increased and it was hard to tell who was thrusting when, but none of the three cared, but were only lost in the intense pleasure of their first loving as a trio. Breathing quickened, moans and unclear words filled the air, the sounds of three bodies in the midst of passion brought all other noises to a halt. The wood seemed to hold it’s breathe as it waited for the climax that should soon occur. And the nature around them did not have long to wait.

Boromir went first, his creamy emissions spilling from his furiously stroking hand onto his flat belly. Then Legolas came, as he filled Aragorn with the pearly juice from his gleaming balls and pulled himself out, dripping and still hard to dive between the still rising and falling buttocks of Aragorn and begin to lick his own seed as it dribbled from it’s place in the man’s cleft. Finally, Aragorn’s orgasm hit as he was pulling out and in the middle of his climax he thrust deeply back into Boromir’s hole, letting his balls empty as much as they would inside his lover. A shout of passion came from deep in his chest as he waited for the spasms of orgasm to finish.

And then it was done, their first time, and Aragorn trembled as he pulled his cock from it’s pleasantly ravaged enclosure. All three, men and elf crawled into positions beside each other so as to drape themselves close for the comfort of love after the storm of passion. When threthree were settled, kisses were exchanged between all and finally, as Legolas embraced Boromir, Aragorn, his hand trailing over the smooth flesh of his steward, leaned over and planted a tender kiss on the elf’s lips, which was returned.

“Thank you.” Whispered the future king of Gondor against the lips of his elvish lover.

Legolas smiled at this, knowing he had finally done the right thing in bringing them all together and gifting the two men to each other. Satisfied, he wrapped his arms about both men and they all settled into positions of rest in anticipation of more love.

Continued in THE FIRST GOODBYE