Since our last Slashy Interlude featured the Shipping Forecast we would like to dedicate this one to Sea Area Finisterre (once a great big lump of sea north west of Spain, now but a memory), which was replaced, on 4th February, by Sea Area FitzRoy. Finisterre - this one's for you!
Disclaimer: JRR Tolkien owns all the characters used here, he probably won't want them back after we've finished with them.
Rating: R (SLASH, m/m not v graphic, but vv silly, comedic violence; flatmate strife; language; gratuitous hobbit nudity)
Story notes: You asked for more Aragorn/Legolas, we oblige. Don't say we don't listen to our fans and don't blame us when you say those bits are contrived - we both prefer Hobbits anyway.
RANDOM SLASHY INTERLUDE!! = m/m, interspecies and hobbit filth coming up - if you don't like, can be missed out.
"What're you watching this crap for?"
"There's nowt else on."
"Yeah, but even Channel 5 soft porn's better than watching 'The Faculty'."
"Yeah, but it's 'Hot FBI Babes' and Gandalf's already seen it four times and he gets annoyed w'the main character an' throws things at the screen whenever she comes on."
Frodo looked over at Gandalf who made an obscene hand gesture and sniggered.
"Oh, yeah, I know he doesn't like movies with that in it."
Merry pointed at the screen. "'Ere, that short guy dunt half look like you."
Frodo looked at the TV and then made a face. "Doesn't look anything like me."
"Naw, he's sooo much cuter than you are," said Pippin.
"Shut up, Pippin."
Aragorn wandered in and settled down next to Legolas on the other sofa, in fact, snuggled up to would probably be a better description.
"Aragorn...? What are you doing? You haven't been on the, um... again have you?"
"No, it's just that since we are technically married, I thought we should spend a little quality time together."
"And by quality time you mean?"
"I'm not that shallow, since when was my name Pippin?"
Pippin was momentarily distracted by the mention of his name and faced Aragorn for long enough for Frodo catch him a whanging blow to the side of the head. The argument about whether or not Frodo was cuter than the short geeky guy in 'The Faculty' was continuing on the other sofa with much force and also with fists.
Aragorn stretched his arms upwards and brought one of them down round Legolas' shoulder.
"Aragorn, you've been alive for over 6000 years. In that time have you learned nothing about romance, seduction or even subtlety?"
"Sorry," said Aragorn as he slid his arm round Legolas' waist and leaned his head on Legolas' shoulder. "Better?"
"You're just using me as an Arwen substitute."
"If I was using you as an Arwen substitute I'd be trying to get you to swear at me in Elvish and talk you into giving me back my stuff."
"Really?"
"Yes, really." Aragorn started nuzzling his face against the side of Legolas' neck.
"Ah, no, not with stubble, stoppit, stoppit." Legolas collapsed into fits of the giggles, which only encouraged Aragorn to keep on going.
The Hobbits stopped mid-fight and stared; Frodo with one hand round Pippin's neck and the other pulled back to punch him in the face while Merry was attempting to simultaneously pull Frodo's hair and kick Pippin in the groin.
It was at this moment that Sam decided to come in from weeding the garden. The sight that confronted him was that of a tableau of scrapping Hobbits and Aragorn with apparently sucking Legolas' neck, and Legolas apparently enjoying it.
"Um... I'll just, ah, go back into the garden and, um, prune something."
A week later Aragorn still hadn't given up on Legolas. Legolas had been presented with flowers, chocolates, theatre tickets, ballet tickets and, in desperation, alcohol.
"Look, I said no."
"Can't I even kiss you?"
"No, I'll get beard rash."
"You didn't mind last time."
Legolas tone turned vicious. "No, just no."
Aragorn looked completely heartbroken and Legolas felt like he'd just kicked a puppy, never mind that he'd seen this person run through at least 6 dozen Orcs. Legolas decided to go for the direct approach and hugged Aragorn in what he hoped was a comforting and manly way. However, Legolas wasn't very good at manly and ended up with his nose buried in Aragorn's hair. Being and Elf and therefore dirt-repellent, he had expected this to be a somewhat unpleasant experience as Aragorn was not a huge fan of baths, but his he found the aroma of manly musk with a hint of squirrel strangely alluring. At least his hindbrain did, his higher thought centres were trying to bury this thought and dance on its grave, but the Hormones were winning. Legolas realised that he was nuzzling into Aragorn's neck through his long hair and he was making small groaning noises and, again, his higher brain centres fought for control. This time they won and he pulled back from Aragorn, but all that this meant was that Aragorn was free to kiss him. And he did.
Luckily for Legolas, or at least the less hormonally driven parts of him, Sam walked in. Aragorn made a mental note that next time he decided to try and seduce Legolas he would do it somewhere more private than in the kitchen.
"Why does everyone in this house have an urge to do this kind of thing? And in public too." Sam looked slightly annoyed.
Dinner the next night had an Atmosphere. Merry and Pippin had stopped speaking to each other. The reason for this as soon as Pippin started speaking.
"You know that Magenta at work has sooo got the hots for me?"
Merry muttered under his breath. "Magenta? Her name's bloody Mavis Enderby."
"Magenta, Mavis whatever, she fancies the pants off me. She's heard the stories and wants some hot Pippin lovin' for herself."
Merry ran out of the kitchen and down the other end of the garden and hid behind the shed. Frodo went out to make sure he was alright and found Merry hugging his knees and snivelling. Frodo put his arms around him, which caused Merry to move on to full blown sobs, dampening the front of Frodo's nice clean shirt.
"Why does he do this to me?"
"Why do you keep doing this to yourself, you mean. You've known him all his life, he's been a complete slut ever since he found out there was more than one use for the contents of his trousers and he's cheated on you more times than I've been in mental institutions, even if some of the times he invited you along."
"But I love him!"
"Why?"
"I can?t help it!"
"There is more to life than Pippin you know."
"Doesn't feel like it."
"You need some cheering up."
"Can't be cheered up." Frodo kissed Merry. "Well, maybe if you try very hard you could."
The next morning there seemed to be an invisible thread between Frodo and Merry, an invisible thread which appeared to be the temperature of molten lava as they both seemed to get very hot when they got within about a foot and a half of each other.
When they were all sat at the table eating breakfast Sam felt something brush against his leg. Something hairy and the brushing definitely felt deliberate. In fact it was more of an up and down sliding. He gave Frodo a sidelong glance, but as Frodo appeared to be staring aimlessly out the window while sipping his tea he turned his gaze to Merry and kicked him in the shins. There was a gurgle and he guessed from the way Frodo suddenly seemed to reconnect with the same reality as everyone else that the sliding had not so much stopped as relocated itself.
Early that evening the Fellowship was gathered watching 'The Weakest Link as usual, or, in the case of two of its members, trying to watch TV - Aragorn may have been curled around Legolas in an excessively friendly way, but the TV was getting at least 90% of his attention. Merry and Frodo were suffering from a severe case of the wandering hands, but luckily for everyone else, they were only wandering over each other. Eventually they gave into temptation and attempted to reach second base, or possibly to pass it, but Legolas decided to put a stop to it.
"Are you two going to tell us what's going on? Overnight you've gone from being reasonably normal Hobbits to acting like you're in the kind of movies Gandalf likes."
Gandalf momentarily looked up. "No they're not."
"Well, no, they're lacking in the 'enormous bosoms' department, and the ones he likes tend to be six foot tall and skinny as opposed to four foot and overweight," said Aragorn.
"Yes, but this doesn't answer the question as to what's going on."
Merry and Frodo looked at each other in embarrassed silence, even though their hands still appeared to be doing their own thing.
"Nothing. We're just showing a bit of friendly affection for each other."
"Friendly like you and Sam in Mordor?" asked Pippin.
Sam dignified this with the only suitable answer: he punched Pippin very, very hard.
"Ow, ok, ok, nothin' went on in Mordor, but friendly affection doesnae usually put that much strain on your troosers if you know what I mean."
Frodo and Merry shifted slightly, which would in itself have been a bit suspicious, even more so when they moaned a little when they did.
"Right, tell me what's going on," said Aragorn, who, from his experience in dealing with small children knew exactly when to use threats, "Or I'll make you watch the entirety of 'Flipper'. Twice."
Merry and Frodo gave in. "Merry was upset, so we took some of the elven aphrodisiac. Only half a shot glass each, though."
Gandalf began cackling evilly.
"A whole half shot each?" asked Legolas
The two Hobbits nodded
"And you didn't think to check what effect this had on Hobbit physiology?"
The two Hobbits shook their heads.
"Well, all I can say is that now would be a good time to buy shares in the company that makes KY jelly."
Frodo and Merry exchanged horrified glances "What exactly does it do to Hobbit physiology?" asked Frodo.
"Well, much the same as what it does to Elves - it makes you very much in the mood - except that with Hobbits it lasts for about a week."
"You mean I have to sleep in the same room as two permanently turned on Hobbits, whilst I've got a cold, for a week?"
"Sorry. And what does having a cold have to do with this?"
"Can me and Pippin sleep in your room for a few days?"
"No," answered Aragorn and Legolas simultaneously. A little too quickly. Legolas filled in "You're all germy."
"But it's going to be terrible," said Sam, while Merry and Frodo, as if to prove a point, started snogging again. "Could you two maybe do that somewhere else?"
Merry and Frodo seemed relieved and attempted to leave the room sideways so that they neither had to let go of one another, nor stop kissing.
Gandalf was a wise old wizard and so turned the volume on the TV all the way up. There was a cry of 'Nightshift!' from upstairs, but this was followed up by a somewhat more rhythmical noise. There was the sound of footsteps on the landing, a door opening and a scream. A few moments later Gimli appeared in the sitting room doorway, wearing a Noel Coward dressing gown over his paisley pyjamas, his Dwarf helmet and suffering from 'bed-beard'.
"I decided to get up early."
The next evening Legolas was not in a good frame of mind. He had been treated to the sound of Frodo and Merry shagging before breakfast in their bedroom, after breakfast in the cupboard under the stairs and on arriving home only seconds before Merry being bowled over by the overenthusiastic Hobbit as he attempted to jump Frodo in the quickest time possible. He decided to try and get to the shower before certain randy Hobbits got any ideas.
At the top of the stairs he was greeted by the sound of music coming from his bedroom.
"Je t'aime, oiu, je t'aime"
He also thought he could smell musk scented candles.
"Aragorn?" he called softly through the door, hardly daring to open it.
"Yes?" said Aragorn, stripped to his underwear (thankfully not the Captain Scarlet ones) and reading a book on ancient Greek statuary.
Legolas blew out the candles, turned off the music and turned the lights back on.
"If this is your attempt at seduction, I really wonder how you and Arwen ever managed to have children, and no, please don't tell me."
"Seduction? No, not me, I just wanted to read a book in my underwear."
Throughout the rest of the evening Legolas was plagued by the constant sight of rampantly groping Hobbits, which was giving his hindbrain the advantage and this was not helped by the fact that the even his higher consciousness was admitting that Aragorn wearing nothing but his underwear was aesthetically pleasing, from a purely artistic point of view you understand.
Legolas decided he needed some fresh air and some time away from the copulating Hobbits, so decided to go out into the garden. Silently, Aragorn followed him. Legolas turned his face up towards the sky to look at the stars, but felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. He looked along the arm; it belonged to Aragorn.
"I just came out to look at the stars. Nothing else."
"I don't need to look at the stars, I can look into your eyes."
"Aragorn, would you just stop the corny, Mills and Boon dialogue."
"Why don't I just stop talking altogether?" Aragorn kissed him.
Legolas' higher brain centre fused and melted together into one big messy lump and his hindbrain took over. He forgot entirely to offer any resistance when Aragorn tried to pull him to the ground.
"Aragorn... quick, Mrs Wainthrop, the shed!"
Aragorn half stood and lifted Legolas, trying to carry him towards the shed while still kissing him. Half way there they fell over.
"Fuck Mrs Wainthrop," whispered Aragorn.
"Actually, I was rather hoping you'd fuck me..."
"Thought you'd never ask."
At 2am, Pippin was still sat in the kitchen, hunched over a mug of hot chocolate, scheming. It was not going well with Mavis at work; just that afternoon she had rejected his advances quite forcefully by hitting him with a four-pack of baked beans in the storeroom (the storeroom - one of the most painful places to be hit). Pippin rubbed the bruise thoughtfully; he was the self-proclaimed Don Juan of the Fellowship and while the others were getting laid, he was not. Who knows if it was the Palantir working its deadly influence on him, but the plan formed, and evil was the plan, and evil was its execution.
The next morning Sam was not feeling well, not helped by the fact that due to the activities of Frodo and Merry he'd slept on the landing. He could have slept on the sofa, but Gandalf was awake and perusing his video collection so it would merely have been the difference between live action and recorded. Pippin attempting to go somewhere at 2 am in the morning and standing on Sam's head had not helped the matter. He was sat at the breakfast table nursing a soluble aspirin, with various other cures for being under the weather that had been suggested by the rest of the Fellowship set out in front of him. They probably all interacted in horribly fatal ways, but he was immortal and was wishing he wasn't. He was not thinking terribly clearly as well (his brain had been replaced with something resembling molten marshmallow), so had even taken Frodo up on his offer of 'why don't you take some of the anti-psychotic medication I get? It's not like it can do any harm.' The fact that this statement was in the same league as 'it's unsinkable', and 'nuclear power is completely safe' seemed to bypass him. Pippin's sudden and suspicious interest in his health and well-being had also not triggered the alarm bells it should have done - Pippin had appointed himself officer in charge of Sam's medication. The large glass of something green and frothy, made to one of Pippin's own recipes was possibly the most worrying.
The others had all gone to work, but Frodo had stopped Sam from going as well. The strange, spaced out expression and the swaying were worrying him. Frodo in an attempt to, ahem, distract himself whilst Merry was at work was doing speed cleaning, scrubbing floors with freezing water, jogging round the garden a few times and when all else failed he was having cold showers. He had no idea how Merry was faring at work, but he hoped for Merry's sake he wasn't handling the baguettes today.
"Sam, wouldn't you be better in bed?"
Sam sat up and started twitching slightly. "Bed?" he repeated.
"What did Pippin give you? Your pupils have completely dilated." Frodo leaned over Sam to check whether or not Sam had a temperature. There was no fever, but Sam was not reacting to him. He waved a hand in front of Sam's face. Sam changed from the morning's inactivity by pushing Frodo down to the floor and beginning to kiss him wildly. Frodo tried to get Sam to let go of him but Sam was both bigger and stronger than he was, and well, Frodo's heart wasn't really in it. Other parts of him were deeply interested in this.
"Sam? Are you alright?" Frodo managed. He had known Sam for a very long time and while this was not altogether unwelcome it was deeply unexpected.
"Fine, never felt better. Bed?"
Frodo's brain was struggling for control. "No, no, you'll really regret this lataaaaaaaaaahhhh." Sam had settled the argument decisively. "Dontstop, Dontstop, Dontstop!" Sam, as the father of enough children for a couple of rugby teams, a couple of netball teams and a mixed hockey team, may have been unfamiliar with the geography but was well versed in the technique.
Gimli had learned his lesson and just turned over and put his earplugs in as he heard Gandalf turn the volume up to maximum again.
Pippin arrived home that evening, fully expecting to reap the rewards of what he had given to Sam that morning. However, Sam was nowhere to be found. He tried to be extra casual as he asked Aragorn whether or not Sam was home from work.
Aragorn didn't even bother to look up from his copy of 'Forestry Monthly - Sequoia edition'. "He never went to work, stayed at home because he was ill."
Pippin paled. "Do you know where he is then?"
"No idea. Probably in bed. He looked terrible when I left this morning."
Had Pippin actually possessed a conscience he might have felt a little guilty about this, but all he felt was fear at getting caught and decided to make himself scarce. He headed out to the shed, passing Legolas coming in from work.
"Where's he going?"
"Don't know. Perhaps he's started archiving some of his dirty magazine collection out there."
"Speaking of magazines, are you reading 'Forestry Monthly' again?"
"I only read it for the articles!"
Legolas sat down. "Aragorn, about what happened..."
Aragorn put down the magazine carefully. "You are going to find some sort of excuse as to why that was an aberration, elves don't have a sex drive and it'll never happened again?"
"Um, no actually I was wondering whether this time we could try something involving fewer rose thorns and more feathers..."
It was a true pity there was no-one around with a camera to capture Aragorn's expression, but it was only there for a moment before Aragorn and Legolas gave in to the inevitable and grabbed each other...
The next morning Sam woke up feeling much better, but a little... odd. He was warmer than usual, but Frodo being wrapped round him explained this. So Frodo had had another one of his incidents, that wasn't unusual, but there was something else wrong. Oh. Oh dear. Neither of them were wearing any clothes. At all. There was something else wrong; he didn't have time to place it because at that moment Frodo woke up.
"Sam? Whas' wrong? Oh."
"Oh indeed. What happened?"
"Um...lots. Well, first..."
"Stop, no, I don't need details, but I just need to know - we had sex didn't we?"
"Um. Yes. Repeatedly. Sorry."
"You knew I was under the influence of something!"
"Yes, but if it hadn't escaped your attention so am I! And you're bigger than me and quite persuasive! And I would like to draw your attention to the fact that you haven't let go of me!"
Sam went quiet. "Probably residual effects."
"Look, Sam, I'm sorry. Neither of us were really ourselves, let just forget about it? Please?"
Sam nodded, though a little doubtfully, and they disentangled themselves.
"Whas' goin' on?" Merry stuck his head out from the other end of the duvet.
"Please tell me I didn't..."
"Don't worry, you didn't. You just asked to watch."
"I'm going to have nightmares about that for weeks."
"Er, Sam? How residual are those effects?"
"Not very."
"In that case, this would be a really good time to skip the queue for the bathroom. And don't come back for about 20 minutes..." the last comment was squeaked as Merry moved back up the bed.
When they eventually came downstairs Pippin was already at the breakfast table looking quite smug. He had put two and two together and had worked out what must have gone on between Sam and Frodo and was looking forward to seeing the acute social embarrassment that would ensue. However, he was disappointed. They were acting fairly normally, well as normal as either of them ever got, and only slightly avoiding physical contact with each other. Pippin was wondering why he had even wanted Sam as a sex slave, and was also worried about possible recriminations. These worries proved to be well founded.
Pippin, by Friday evening was starting to think that he'd got away with it, and that the Fellowship were blaming Sam's little 'indiscretion' on an adverse reaction to buttercup syrup. However, they had just been biding their time. They were agreed that doing something as completely despicable as drugging someone to be used as a sex toy needed a suitable punishment, which needed preparation, thought and time. The cupboard under the stairs had been cleaned out, and a strong lock fitted. Pippin was taken completely unawares when, while watching 'Father Ted' he was forcibly tied into Frodo's spare straitjacket, had two drops of the elven aphrodisiac forced down his throat, was gagged and then shoved and locked into the cupboard under the stairs. The Fellowship slept with earplugs in to try and ignore the howls from Pippin, unable in the straitjacket even to have recourse to Mrs. Palm and her five lovely daughters to relieve his suffering.
Pippin, on his release was a changed hobbit, or at least a changed back hobbit. Whatever evil influence (the authors attempt to look innocent at this point) had caused his Machiavellian scheming, Don Juanism, and being even more of a bastard to Merry than he normally was, had gone, and everything was patched up, to the extent that Legolas and Frodo were even more careful in choosing a new hiding place for the elven aphrodisiac.
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