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Dec. 2nd, 2003 11:12 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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rugbytackle*waves*
Well, um, if you know me, you know that, although I lovelovelove Aragorn/Boromir, I've got this wierd thing about Aragorn/Boromir/Arwen. And I've been told that my stories would be acceptable as content for this community, as they do include Aragorn/Boromir romance/sex. I've just kept forgetting to actually post most of it until now. *grin*
Title: Decoration
Rating: PG, at the most.
Notes: LotR, Aragorn/Boromir/Arwen. Nothing but fluff. Christmasy fluff, actually. Yes, I am teh lame, and you can all gag now. It was inspired by, or at the same time as, or possibly itself inspired, the icon I'm using for this. The title was originally "mistletoewheeeee!!!!111one", but I decided that was probably a bad idea. *grin*
Disclaimer: Completely and totally not mine. Yay for Tolkien for giving me such fabulous playthings.
Aragorn had not commented on the plant, with its round, dusty dark green leaves and white berries, that was hanging from one of the beams of Arwen's ceiling. He had not given any sign that he had seen it, even, though she knew that it could not have escaped his notice. He was lying on the lounge in her room, eyes nearly closed, a small smile on his face. He was not dozing, but there was something in his face of a contented cat, lying in a sunbeam, as he watched Arwen and Boromir.
"What is this Elvish mischief?" Boromir asked, looking up at the plant.
"Mischief? Aye, indeed, great mischief," Arwen said, with a small, mysterious smile belied by the wicked sparkle in her eyes. "For truly, we Elves are a mischievous people."
"If the rest of that race is anything like you, Lady, it should not surprise me to learn that they are," Boromir answered, and Arwen shrieked with laughter as he kissed her neck, the coarse hair of his beard tickling and scratching at her soft skin.
Aragorn opened his eyes long enough to roll them. "And it seems to me that the both of you will look for any excuse to create more mischief," he said, watching Boromir and Arwen as they play-fought, the "blows" of each caught by the other and interspersed with (and, more and more frequently as things escalated, outweighed by) kisses. "I weep for the future of Gondor," he said, much more softly now, "caught now as she is between the choice of Arwen as her Queen and Boromir as her Steward."
Their laughter as they fought, and the fact that Aragorn had spoken without intending to be heard, meant that Boromir did not catch this last. Arwen's face did not change for long, but he thought that some of the mirth faded from her eyes for a moment as she glanced over at him.
He rose then, and Arwen and Boromir halted in their game -- for that was the only name for it, really. Each was breathing heavily. Aragorn approached the two of them, trying hard to bite back a grin as wide as those they wore. He knew that if he looked at them, he would be lost, so he turned his gaze upward instead, to the arch above them.
"I know this plant," Aragorn mused softly, looking up at it. Arwen had a wide, content smile on her peaceful face, and Boromir's arms were wrapped around her waist. Boromir kissed Arwen's temple quickly, a brilliant grin on his face, and then turned his gaze back to Aragorn, who tried to keep from laughing at their ridiculous, hopeful smiles.
"Then will you, Aragorn, tell me the meaning behind it?" Boromir asked. "Since this lady is so reluctant to share her knowledge with a mere man?" Arwen gave a protesting cry at this, which turned into laughter as Boromir tightened his arms about her waist, kissing her throat.
"I think I need hardly do that," Aragorn said, "as you two have already more than fulfilled its purpose."
"And that is..." Arwen asked, teasingly.
Aragorn looked at his lovers, and finally grabbed Boromir's hands. He pulled at them, tugging Boromir closer, so that Arwen was caught firmly between the two of them, directly beneath the dusty green leaves and waxy berries of the plant. The Elf's laughter rang in his ears like clear silver tones ringing out, carried upon a cold wind, and she stroked his back as he kissed Boromir, planting a quick kiss on his cheek and smiling.
"Precisely," she said, that calm, ethereal smile returning to her face.
The two Men looked at each other, and even Aragorn could not hide his grin. He kissed her cheek then, and Boromir's arms tightened again around her waist, kissing her shoulders and the back of her neck, and her celestial smile gave way to earthly laughter.
Well, um, if you know me, you know that, although I lovelovelove Aragorn/Boromir, I've got this wierd thing about Aragorn/Boromir/Arwen. And I've been told that my stories would be acceptable as content for this community, as they do include Aragorn/Boromir romance/sex. I've just kept forgetting to actually post most of it until now. *grin*
Title: Decoration
Rating: PG, at the most.
Notes: LotR, Aragorn/Boromir/Arwen. Nothing but fluff. Christmasy fluff, actually. Yes, I am teh lame, and you can all gag now. It was inspired by, or at the same time as, or possibly itself inspired, the icon I'm using for this. The title was originally "mistletoewheeeee!!!!111one", but I decided that was probably a bad idea. *grin*
Disclaimer: Completely and totally not mine. Yay for Tolkien for giving me such fabulous playthings.
Aragorn had not commented on the plant, with its round, dusty dark green leaves and white berries, that was hanging from one of the beams of Arwen's ceiling. He had not given any sign that he had seen it, even, though she knew that it could not have escaped his notice. He was lying on the lounge in her room, eyes nearly closed, a small smile on his face. He was not dozing, but there was something in his face of a contented cat, lying in a sunbeam, as he watched Arwen and Boromir.
"What is this Elvish mischief?" Boromir asked, looking up at the plant.
"Mischief? Aye, indeed, great mischief," Arwen said, with a small, mysterious smile belied by the wicked sparkle in her eyes. "For truly, we Elves are a mischievous people."
"If the rest of that race is anything like you, Lady, it should not surprise me to learn that they are," Boromir answered, and Arwen shrieked with laughter as he kissed her neck, the coarse hair of his beard tickling and scratching at her soft skin.
Aragorn opened his eyes long enough to roll them. "And it seems to me that the both of you will look for any excuse to create more mischief," he said, watching Boromir and Arwen as they play-fought, the "blows" of each caught by the other and interspersed with (and, more and more frequently as things escalated, outweighed by) kisses. "I weep for the future of Gondor," he said, much more softly now, "caught now as she is between the choice of Arwen as her Queen and Boromir as her Steward."
Their laughter as they fought, and the fact that Aragorn had spoken without intending to be heard, meant that Boromir did not catch this last. Arwen's face did not change for long, but he thought that some of the mirth faded from her eyes for a moment as she glanced over at him.
He rose then, and Arwen and Boromir halted in their game -- for that was the only name for it, really. Each was breathing heavily. Aragorn approached the two of them, trying hard to bite back a grin as wide as those they wore. He knew that if he looked at them, he would be lost, so he turned his gaze upward instead, to the arch above them.
"I know this plant," Aragorn mused softly, looking up at it. Arwen had a wide, content smile on her peaceful face, and Boromir's arms were wrapped around her waist. Boromir kissed Arwen's temple quickly, a brilliant grin on his face, and then turned his gaze back to Aragorn, who tried to keep from laughing at their ridiculous, hopeful smiles.
"Then will you, Aragorn, tell me the meaning behind it?" Boromir asked. "Since this lady is so reluctant to share her knowledge with a mere man?" Arwen gave a protesting cry at this, which turned into laughter as Boromir tightened his arms about her waist, kissing her throat.
"I think I need hardly do that," Aragorn said, "as you two have already more than fulfilled its purpose."
"And that is..." Arwen asked, teasingly.
Aragorn looked at his lovers, and finally grabbed Boromir's hands. He pulled at them, tugging Boromir closer, so that Arwen was caught firmly between the two of them, directly beneath the dusty green leaves and waxy berries of the plant. The Elf's laughter rang in his ears like clear silver tones ringing out, carried upon a cold wind, and she stroked his back as he kissed Boromir, planting a quick kiss on his cheek and smiling.
"Precisely," she said, that calm, ethereal smile returning to her face.
The two Men looked at each other, and even Aragorn could not hide his grin. He kissed her cheek then, and Boromir's arms tightened again around her waist, kissing her shoulders and the back of her neck, and her celestial smile gave way to earthly laughter.
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Date: 2003-12-03 02:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-03 04:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-12 07:50 pm (UTC)