Dirtier

Pairings: As promised. Aragorn/Boromir/Haldir/Legolas/Rumil/Orophin
Rating: Duh! NC 17! Lol :P
Warnings: Plot? Eh? Whazzat? Incest, Bondage, Non-Con sex, Slight Violence, and all other good stuff
Summary: Revenge is sweeter when given in large doses…

Notes: Btw… the Elves are totally out of character. (maybe, maybe not… after all what do we know of Haldir and his brothers? They might usually do stuff like this in Lothlorien and no one knows J) And yeah… Legolas is kind of a jerk. I could almost pity the Men as I wrote this. Almost… Mua ha ha ha… (OK… I’m going to have my nervous breakdown now)

Feedback: Is always welcomed.

Dirtier
=====

He watched them from a distance, eyes narrowing with a hate so deep and so profound it nearly choked him. The Men’s heads were bowed together, apparently deep in conversation. Their expressions were sombre, and their voices low. They were grieving; their shoulders bent with much sorrow at the loss of a valuable member of the Fellowship. And the Elf knew that it would not be long before he would have his revenge.

But he will wait. And waited he did, until the sun set slowly over the darkening horizon as they entered the realm of the Lady of the Woods. He waited until one of the Little Ones gave a cry of delight at the sight of the tall trees with their branches stretching out towards the heavens. He waited until several Guardian Elves of Lothlorien directed the party towards the Lady Galadriel. He waited until his eyes landed upon a tall, proud figure standing near the grave and still forms of Galadriel and her Lord. Their gaze met and held – the other’s eyes blazed in silent understanding.

And then, for the first time in many days; Legolas smiled.

**********

Night had long since fallen but sleep eluded the Men of Gondor. Wordlessly they walked hand in hand in the darkness, lending each other the support they needed. Every now and then, they would pause, kiss, and then walked on aimlessly, like wandering ghosts, silent and grave.

“What do we do now, my love?” said Boromir, when they paused yet again. The moon was their only source of light in the gloom, its soft light bringing out the sharp angles of his lover’s features. And tonight, those features were taut with strain and stress. Boromir cupped those cheeks and pressed his lips against the softness of Aragorn’s mouth.

“I know not. It seems that I must lead the company now, my love. But I fear that it would not be easy to do so,” the Ranger said, his brow creasing with worry. And Boromir understood.

“The Elf,” he said, stating what was on his lover’s mind. And a shadow settled over his heart too as they remembered the last time that they had taken the Elf against his will in the darkness of the forest on the way to the Caradhras. The Elf had remained calm after the incident, not speaking to them and not looking in their direction. But when their eyes chanced to meet, they could read the coldness in those blue orbs of his eyes and against their better judgements, they started to feel a prickle of fear whenever they watched him from a distance.

“Yes. The Elf. I fear that he would not be easy to lead. Not after what we did to him,” he said with a sigh as he sat down upon the soft grass wearily. The Ranger parted his thighs and allowed his lover to sit between his legs. Boromir settled down, leaning against Aragorn’s strong chest, and he turned his face into the softness of the Ranger’s neck, nuzzling the skin there, causing his lover to shiver.

“Think not of him, my love, for there are two of us and merely one of him. We could best him easily as we once did should he be foolish enough to attack us alone,” Boromir said, his lips curling in a gentle smile in an effort to ease the Ranger’s fears. Aragorn smiled indulgently as he bent his head towards Boromir’s, lips locked in a searing kiss.

And their tongues mated in a frenzied yet familiar rhythm of their own. Love making was something they both partake in with much enthusiasm for Boromir was passionate and responsive while the Ranger was insatiable in his sexual drive. Hands roamed freely, dipping beneath the constraints of clothes and breeches; fingers brushed against turgid nipples and caressed the hardness between the apexes of their thighs.

Their chests heaved in unison and Boromir moaned as he usually did, without abandon, his mouth parting in ecstasy. Aragorn teased and seduced his lover with his tongue, its moist tip tracing patterns upon his lover’s nipples and then suckling on those pointed tips, causing Boromir to writhe beneath him; his hands fisting in the grass and ripping them out by the roots.

“Nay Aragorn… I need you. Inside. Now. Please!” he groaned, his head trashing from side to side. With trembling hands, the Ranger complied, his hands first moving rapidly to remove the last remnants of clothes before he slid his body down the length of his lover’s, hissing at the delicious contact of his pulsating cock brushing against Boromir’s.

“Inside. Now!” Boromir begged, his voice gruff with passion and his hips lifting in shameless invitation as his legs locked themselves around the Ranger’s slim hips.

With a soft gasp, Aragorn impaled himself into Boromir with a single thrust of his hips and proceeded to rock himself to and fro. There was never tenderness between them, just raw, animalistic passion; and the desire and need to take their pleasure quickly, frantically and brutally. And Boromir loved it, as did the Ranger and their cries rang out in the still air; loud and forlorn, as if they were in pain, not in the throes of pleasure.

“So good. You feel so good,” the Ranger gritted out through clenched teeth, sweat pearling upon his brow and trickling down the slender rope of his spine. Their bodies undulated in a heathen dance, lust scenting the air with a thick musk unique to the two men. Every stroke of Aragorn’s cock against that sweet spot within Boromir’s body brought about a fresh moan of pure pleasure. And the Ranger helped his lover to attain his release as his hand fisted itself around Boromir, stroking his length in time to their lovemaking.

“Reach for it, my love. Do not hold back!” Aragorn croaked out over the sighs and growls of Boromir as the Ranger rode his lover towards completion…

A snap of a twig. It sounded too familiar. But before the Ranger could think on its source, he felt the bite of a thin length of rope cutting into the flesh of his neck. He tensed and beneath him, Boromir gave a cry of anger but the glazed look of lust upon his green eyes were rapidly replaced with an unnamed emotion… one of which was fear… and apprehension.

“Is this not an inconvenient time for you to be malicious, Legolas?” he said, injecting as much sarcasm as he dared into his voice. He continued to stare into Boromir’s eyes, watching them dart between their assailant and the ranger’s own.

Light laughter erupted. Whispers and murmurs seemed to envelope them. They were spoken in a different language; a language that even the Ranger had no prior knowledge of. One thing was certain though. There were more then one. And the men were outnumbered.

“Ah. But I think Legolas likes to play Dirty. Just like you, Ranger… Only he knows how to be Dirtier,” murmured an unfamiliar voice, its voice melodious and yet tinged with supreme arrogance that made the Ranger wish he had his sword in his hand so that he could ram it down that throat.

“What do you want? Can you not see we are occupied at the moment?” he snarled as he felt Boromir quivering with unfulfilled desires beneath him. The rope tightened in warning and Aragorn became silent. A body leaned into his, grinding into him – and beneath him, Boromir groaned in response, the veins upon his neck standing out in cords as he struggled to rein in his passions.

A tongue delved into his ear. Tasting. Wetting. Teasing.

“We want only what you owe us, Ranger. Blood for blood… and thrust for thrust; all of which you had bestowed upon our friend, Legolas,” crooned the voice in his ear.

A hand fisted in his dark hair and with nary a warning, he was wrenched backwards. Two pairs of hands grabbed him and slammed him into a tree. Air rushed out from his lungs and for a moment, stars seemed to flash behind his eyes as his head connected with the hard trunk of the tree. He slumped to the ground, dazed.

He must have blacked out for a moment, for when he opened his eyes in what seemed like seconds after, he realized that he was still seated upon the ground – only now he bound to the tree, his arms pulled back almost painfully.

He struggled for a few moments with his bindings, cursing silently at the aptness of his attacker in tying the rope into knots that were impossible to break free of. A figure loomed before him and he looked up to stare those eyes. Even in the dark, he could tell that they were grey. Stormy grey eyes staring down dispassionately at him. The figure knelt down before him and when the moonlight brought those fair features into sharp relief, he realized that he was looking into the face of an Elf.

‘No, not just any Elf,’ the Ranger thought bitterly, gritting his teeth in frustration.

Haldir tilted his head, blinked his eyes smi smiled. His face was too beautiful. Beyond words. Beyond belief. And yet, there was something sinister beneath that smile and Aragorn shifted uncomfortably, all the more aware of his nakedness.

And then Haldir began to speak “Fo “For the sake of courtesy, let us introduce ourselves,” he said. Again that melodious voice served only to grate upon Aragorn’s nerves and his hands clenched themselves into fists.

Haldir smiled again, as if he was able to read the Ranger’s thoughts. He moved to the side a little, revealing another form sitting on a rock near him. Aragorn recognized that body. So slender and no less beautiful, eyes glinting with malice.

“Legolas,” he spat, “What madness is this?”

Legolas was settled upon the rock, face tilting slightly towards the moon, as if he were soaking in the moonbeams as humans would do with the sun. His eyes closed briefly, eyelashes flickered lightly upon those high cheekbones, and a small smile played upon his lips.

The blow to his face was not hard, but it stunned him anyways. His teeth clicked upon his tongue, drawing blood. Blue eyes glared into grey.

“Hush my pet. Do not speak lest you anger us,” he murmured, stroking Aragorn’s hair lightly. The Ranger shied away from Haldir’s touch and the Elf just laughed. Legolas continued to smile at Haldir, seemingly ignoring the Ranger as his eyes repeatedly strayed to something that was hidden behind Haldir. “As “As I was saying, let us introduce ourselves. I am Haldir. And Legolas, I trust you have already met,” he began, stroking Aragorn’s face, shoulders, chests and nipples – caressing him gently, coaxing a response from the stiff body. He then cupped Aragorn’s face. And then, almost tenderly, he turned the Ranger’s face towards the spectacle taking place behind the Elf.

And Aragorn hissed in anger, for Boromir was also bound just like him – only there were two other Elves holding him captive. One of them had his hand upon Boromir’s still engorged penis, stroking the heated flesh into life but did not allow him release. The other was holding onto his bound hands which were extended above his head.

“Damn you! Leave him be!” Aragorn roared as he saw Boromir upon the forest ground, struggling to escape the sweet torment upon his body. His lover’s eyes were clenched shut against the onslaught and his lips were parted in a silent scream. The two other Elves turned to look at the Ranger, similar smiles forming upon their faces.

Haldir smiled also as he petted the top of Aragorn’s head condescendingly.

“Those are my brothers. They also happen to like beautiful things like you do, Aragorn. That one is Rumil,” he began, his hands turning the Ranger’s face towards the Elf who was stroking Boromir. “And the Elf holding onto your lover is Orophin.”

Haldir moved back, calmly looking at the murderous look in Aragorn’s eyes.

“Now that we are properly introduced…,” he was saying, his eyes flashed with something so feral and so dangerous that Aragorn looked at him in growing apprehension. Haldir left his sentence unfinished but turned towards Legolas expectantly. Legolas cocked his head, looking politely inquisitive. But that smile…that smile suggested that he had everything planned out.

“I want…,” Legolas began before putting on a coy expression, his eyelashes lowering as if to conceal an embarrassment he did not feel. Rumil turned to Legolas.

“Whatever you want Legolas,” he purred as his fingers continued to fondle Boromir. And beneath him, the Man trembled, his breath coming in shuddering gasp as he tried but could not attain his fulfilment. Orophin had begun to circle those tight nipples with long, gentle fingers, all the while ensuring that the Boromir could not escape by setting himself upon the Man’s hands.

Legolas eyes turned towards Aragorn, the corners of his lips curling in a sensuous smile as he reached between his own thighs and traced the thickening outline of the bulge in his breeches. He closed his eyes, lips parting and tongue flicking out to moisten those soft petals. The Ranger’s mouth watered at the sight of Legolas taking pleasure from his own hands and his own member twitched in reluctant response.

Legolas’ eyes snapped open as if hit by some inspiration. When he turned to look at Haldir, his expression was eager and his lips curled into a semblance of a smirk.

“I want to see you to take the Ranger’s lover. Make him moan and beg while the Ranger look on,” he decided, his eyes lighting up at his own brilliance. Aragorn bellowed in rage but he could not prevent the inevitable.

The three Elves fell upon Boromir, murmuring soft, mocking words. Each took turns to hold onto the Man captive as they stripped, their bare flesh glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration in the night. And Boromir, who could not do anything, looked upon them in dismay.

They moved with a grace unequalled by any female dancer in Gondor. Every move was a calculated one, intended to seduce and tempt. The brothers undressed one another, fingers brushing and caressing with aching tenderness and their eyes were lowered at half mast. They were the very picture of Sin itself.

And then they started to act out their revenge for Legolas.
rophin took his position at Boromir’s head, holding onto the Man’s bound hands which were stretched above his head. Although the Man renewed his struggles, he could not break free. Haldir settled himself at Boromir’s feet, holding onto the Man’s legs.

With a soft sigh, Rumil lowered himself upon the Man’s body, his warm flesh dragging against Boromir’s. Slowly – maddeningly – he rubbed himself against the Man’s stiff cock, purring and growling deep in his throat like a contented cat, body undulating, curling and uncurling itself over the Man. Hips rolling and twisting; the head of his hard shaft stroking Boromir’s equally hard length.

“Ah yes, Rumil,” whispered Haldir, “I love to hear you purr like that.”

Blood rushed like molten lava in Boromir’s veins. He was so desperate. So needy. He was used to having it hard and fast. This tender torture… he could not bear it. He uttered many guttural groans and gave plenty of choked cries… but the Elves were relentless. While Rumil was busy driving the Man crazy with need, Orophin leaned forward to play with Boromir’s nipples, savouring the feel of the hardening nubs beneath his expert administrations. Haldir’s fingers sneaked out to play with the Man’s balls, cupping and stroking the sacs.

And all the while, the Ranger was forced to look on.

Legolas watched Aragorn watch Boromir taking pleasure from the Elves. The Elf smiled as he sensed the strange mixture of emotions expressed upon the Man’s features – emotions that hovered between the fine line of lust and anger.

“He would love it you know,” he crooned as he stretched himself upon the rock, his back arching as he did. Aragorn glared at him; teeth bared in aggression. The Elf smiled again.

“Oh but he will. And I should know. Those Elves would linger over him for hours… always taking him to the brink but never allowing him to attain relief,” he said, his voice light and teasing.

“Let him go,” Aragorn said, eyes flashing with fury, “Do what you will with me. But let Boromir go!”

Legolas shook his head slowly, thoroughly enjoying the power he had over the now helpless man. That maddening smile was still pasted over his face and Aragorn longed to drive his fists into that pretty mouth in hope of knocking out a few teeth or so.

“Do you really think he would wish for them to stop?” he asked, eyebrow arched in question. He then turned towards the Elves. And Aragorn’s gaze reluctantly followed suit.

Their paces had increased in the last few seconds that he had ceased to watch them. The cries and pleas grew louder. More desperate. And the Elves continued to laugh at the Man, enjoying the love sounds he made. Enjoying his humiliation, his wanton submission to their caresses.

“Ah! It is no wonder the Ranger finds pleasure in your arms, Boromir! The sounds you make are enough to send one off the edge!” Legolas called out and the Elves laughed again. Rumil had by then braced himself over the man, in preparation for penetration.

With one slow movement, he entered Boromir’s body inch by inch, prolonging the pleasure and fanning the heat that had long since pooled at the Man’s loins. Boromir cried out, his back arching and hips thrusting frantically to attain more stimulation to that that one spot in his body.

But the Elves did not allow him to move. Rumil held those restless hips, preventing them from moving. Orophin bend his head towards the Man’s lips, capturing it in a searing kiss – tongue stabbing into the Man’s mouth and all the while swallowing his cries. Haldir had his hands fisted around the Man’s impossibly hard cock, firmly running it up and down the stiengtength. And Aragorn knew that his lover could not last long…

“Stop,” said Legolas. The Elves stiffened but did as they were told. BodiBodies trembled and sweat trickled down quivering muscles and chests.

“Nay!” Boromir moaned. His body was racked with shivers as he tried to free his hands so that he could pleasure himself. But Orophin would not let him go and Rumil, still embedded inside Boromir quivered also, eyes flickering close and chest heaving. But they made no move to pleasure the Man.

Legolas turned towards the Ranger, smirking into the Man’s angry face.

“See? He wants it, Aragorn. Begr itr it even. Are you sure you want them to stop?” Legolas said as all traces of humour fled from his face as he glared into the Ranger’s face.

He leapt down nimbly from his perch, striding languidly towards the Ranger. He crouched before the body lying hess uss upon the floor and cupped his chin with a hand.

“You have already seen how beautiful I look beneath him. But have you wondered how I look when he is taken by me?” he murmured. He cast a look towards the Elves and they stood up, dragging Boromir’s weakened body with them.

They were a sight to behold…three of the fairest creatures in Lothlorien with their beautifully sculpted bodies and their erect cock, moving in unison towards him. It was as if the Ranger was trapped in a highly erotic dream that he reserved only for Boromir. And despite the fact that he was maddened by their treatment of his lover, he felt his cock responding to the sight before him.

They gently positioned Boromir upon his hands and knees before the Ranger, whispering lustful words designed to keep him aroused and desperate. Boromir was so close to his lover, kneeling between his splayed legs. With every shuddering breath Boromir took, the Ranger could feel the moist, hot air upon his cock and with that, he moaned aloud, hips twisting – wanting and needing to bury itself into the heat of Boromir’s mouth.

The Man tried to reach out for the Ranger’s cock; wanting and needing to pleasure his lover… to end their torment, but the Elves held him back and turned to look at Legolas. Aragorn’s eyes followed their gaze. What he saw drew an involuntary moan to his lips.

The Elf was naked as the day he was born. He was pleasuring himself, his slender hand tracing the elegant line of his cock. His eyes fluttered in his head, mouth parting, tongue flicking out and teeth biting upon those full lips. Aragorn was entranced as he watched the performance taking place before him.

The other Elves made soft pleading sounds. “Come. Hurry,” they murmured; their voices thick with desire. And Legolas complied and positioned himself behind Boromir. All males trembled in anticipation. And Legolas pressed himself into Boromir.

Hearts fluttered in their chests. Pulses throbbed in places that they never knew existed. Legolas was so deep into Boromir now and the Man cried out. Aragorn also gave a choked cry because Boromir’s breath fluttered was so hotly upon his cock. And the Ranger knew that if he were to thrust his hips forward, he would have managed to have his lover’s mouth around his arousal…

“Suck him. Pleasure him with your mouth,” Legolas crooned, grinding himself erotically against the Man, gently stroking the supple length of the Man’s spine to ease the trembling. Boromir eagerly swallowed the Ranger’s cock, sucking upon him greedily. And for a moment they became one… Men and Elf.

There was no beginning and no ending in this exquisite puzzle. They moved in tandem – Legolas setting the erotic pace… slow and intense heat building towards an almost unbearable pressure… a pressure that begged to be released.

The pieces to the puzzle added up, forming a mosaic of quivering flesh and heaving bodies. Rumil squirmed beneath Boromir, his facezlinzling the Man’s erect cock and then proceeded to suckle upon him also, making small sounds as he did. Orophin took Rumil, pressing his shaft into Rumil’s sweet arse. And Haldir… Haldir straddled the Ranger and pushed himself into the Ranger’s eager mouth.

Sucking, grinding, caressing. A chorus of sounds and sighs filled the still night air. And still the Elves murmured, encouraging Legolas to go faster.

“Hurry,” moaned Haldir as the Ranger growled deep in his throatndinnding ripples up pleasure ripping up his stomach and down his thighs. He quickened his pace, jaw clenched, perspiration dripping into his eyes… Slamming himself into Aragorn’s mouth… Groaning when Aragorn’s tongue swirled around the weeping head of his cock.

“Faster!” gasped Orophin, increasing his pace also, thrusting himself into Rumil with increasing desperation… Rumil moaned in response and Boromir moaned also because Rumil’s mouth upon his cock felt so good.

“Yes,” breathed Legolas.

Heads were thrown back. The cries were getting louder now. Even louder than before. Haldir was crying out in his strange language while Orophin gritted out harsh sounding words behind clenched teeth. They were all so close. They were all one. United. A puzzle that fitted in so perfectly and so beautifully.

With a harsh cry, Legolas spilled his seed into Boromir. Tremors passed through his slender frame and it passed through Boromir, sending similar shockwaves of pleasure as the Man also found his release.

Cry after cry was heard as one by one the males sought their completion. Ecstasy in the purest and most primal form was found and they collapsed upon one another… satiated… the stickiness from their semen staining one another… but no one cared. Because they were, for this one night, all the same.

Aragorn was in a blissful daze. The aftermath of his orgasm was draining but he had no regrets. The taste of Haldir’s seed upon his lips was bli bliss and for the moment, he was contented.

The ropes that bound him fell to the ground. Legolas had cut the bindings. Immediately he reached out towards Boromir, enveloping him in his embrace. His lover sighed… too satiated to be anything but contented being in Aragorn’s arms.

“We are now even,” said Legolas. Aragorn looked at the Elf standing before him. He was smiling.

The three brothers stood behind him. And Aragorn continued to stare, feeling bemused and confused. He tightened his hold upon Boromir when the Elf bended down towards him.

Blue eyes locked into grey.

“Let this be a warning to you. Do not think you could ever take advantage of an Elf without feeling the repercussions of his wrath.”

A pause. And a sudden smile that was nothing but genuine crept ss Lss Legolas’ lips.

“Or do you like that sort of thing?”

Another pause as he looked into the Ranger’s eyes.

Silence.

And then the Elf smiled once more, pressed his lips upon the Ranger’s forehead and walked away with the others, leaving the Men curled up upon the forest floor… spent… humiliated…dirty… and loving every second of it.

THE END