A/N: Apologies in advance to the late J.R.R. Tolkien for what I am about to do to his characters. A Leggorn muse took me hostage and wouldn't let go until I wrote this. There will be some anachronisms throughout the story, since, although I love Tolkien's style of narration, writing in it all the time would most likely give me a duodenal ulcer. Slashyness, Arwen-mindfucking, and cross-dressing contained herein. You have been warned. Also, Feedback: It does a body good. Thank You! =)
~*~
It Looks Better On Aragorn
~*~
Arwen was anxious. For the past several nights, she had waited for Aragorn to come to her. Nearly a week's time had passed since she gave to him the Evenstar, and his repeated failure to appear at her bedside distressed the Elvish princess to no end. Her blood grew hot with anger and frustration as her bedchamber remained empty and her sheets cold, night after night. On the sixth night of no-show Aragorn, Arwen decided to take action.
~*~
"Elrond!"
A loud gasp escaped Elrond's throat as the mirror in his hands clattered to the floor. He glared at Arwen, displeased that she had chosen to interrupt him during the painstaking process of arranging each strand of his hair beneath his headband. Slowly, Elrond descended down the stairs to greet his daughter.
"Arwen, Daughter, apologies. You startled me with your unexpected intrusion."
"I did not mean to, Father. I'm sorry."
Elrond gracefully made his way over to the chair next to Arwen. He sat down, reaching for something on the floor beside it. "You are upset about something," he said, and Arwen nodded somberly. Elrond sat back up, a pipe (a gift from Pippin) in his hand. He was pleased to discover that there was still a bit of the Shire leaf in it. Seizing a flint, Elrond lit the pipe. "Now then," he said, taking in a long bit of the leaf's fragance. "Tell me what ails you."
"It's Aragorn."
Elrond coughed upon hearing the Ranger's name, sputtering as he choked on the fumes of the pungent weed. "Aragorn, you say?" Elrond wheezed, his voice several octaves too high. He quickly cleared his throat and regained his stoic, Elf composure. "Aragorn," Elrond repeated, his tone now normal.
"Yes. I have not seen him for several days now. Ever since I professed my undying love to him, he has not come to me. I do not understand why," Arwen whispered, a lump rising in her throat.
"Oh, my child, do not grieve," Elrond replied, rising from the chair on slightly wobbly legs. "There, there," he said, draping an arm around Arwen's shoulders. "Ask anything of me, anything at all, and I will supply you with any answers I may have."
Arwen turned to look at him, her eyes lined with tears. "I need to know, Father. Why will he not come to me? Has another woman laid claim to my beloved's heart?"
Elrond took a deep breath. He knew the answer to her question, but feared how she would react to it. Elrond furrowed his brow in frustration. How could he tell poor Arwen the truth?"
"Yes....in a manner of speaking."
Arwen's eyes widened threefold. "Father, please. A name. You must tell me her name!"
"Her name is....Dorothy."
Arwen opened her mouth as if to continue her rant, but then closed it. "Dorothy? What sort of a name is that?"
"Well, actually....Aragorn is more like a friend of hers," said Elrond, not looking at her for fear that he would laugh.
"Then he is in doubt! I must go to him, I must convince him that it is I whom he loves!" The tears were gone from Arwen's eyes, and her spirits were roused. "Where is he, Father? Where is Aragorn?"
Elrond sighed. His daughter was determined now, and he knew that no amount of persuasion would change her mind. Suddenly, a feeling of familiarity washed over Elrond, and he looked up, as if sensing a presence.
"I know where Aragorn is."
"Where? Father, tell me!!" Arwen cried, desperate to confront Aragorn before it was too late.
"He is within."
"Within? Here? Where?
"In your chambers," Elrond replied, a knowing smirk upon his lips.
~*~In Arwen's Chambers~*~
"Aragorn! Come on, already! I want to see you!" Legolas Greenleaf lay sprawled across Arwen's bed, his long legs dangling off the side.
"All right, all right. Gods, this thing has so many clasps and buttons! It's far too difficult to get into." Aragorn replied from behind a large, silken screen.
"Oh, surely it's not that bad. Besides, Arwen wears loose-fitting clothing. It allows for easier access," said Legolas.
Aragorn snorted. "You are so lucky she didn't hear you say that."
Legolas's eyes widened upon realizing what the Man meant. "I didn't mean it like that!!" he yelled, and laughed anyway, since it was true. "Will you please come out now?!"
"I thought I already did."
"Oh, shut up. Come onnn, Estel, I want to see you!!" Legolas pouted, fiddling with the drawstring that held up his leggings. He still could not believe that Aragorn had hatched such a crazy plan, even as they snuck into Arwen's chamber that morning after she ran off to where-they-knew-not.
"Here, see this," Aragorn laughed, tossing a piece of armor over the screen; in fact, the piece of armor that guarded his most precious region.
Legolas screamed at the unexpected flying metal, and his Elf reflexes kicked in as he caught it without effort. "Aragorn!" he exclaimed, recognizing the metal. He grinned to himself and pressed the armor piece to his nose. Sniffing loudly, Legolas growled in his best mock-Orc tone: "Mmm. I smell man-flesh!"
At this, Aragorn let out a tremendous laugh. "All right, that's it, I'm coming out now!!" he yelled, charging out from behind the screen.
"NOOOOO!" Legolas yelled as Aragorn came running out clad in one of Arwen' dresses, a royal purple number with delicate white lace cuffs at the wrists.
~*~Meanwhile, Arwen has just run down the corridor and has arrived at her chambers. She hears voices within, and discerns them as that of Aragorn and Legolas. Not wanting to give herself away, she crouches down and peers in through the narrow crack in the door to her room.~*~
Legolas could not stop giggling as Aragorn tickled him through his layers of clothing. "Careful, now, or you'll ruin Arwen's dress. You wouldn't want that, would you?" The Elf's voice bordered on the seductive as he ran his hands up and down the Man's cloth-covered sides, caressing the muscled flesh beneath.
Upon hearing this, an extremely pissed-off Arwen stormed in, eyes bulging wide at the sight of Aragorn straddling Legolas. On her bed.
"ARAGORN! LEGOLAS!" she exclaimed, hardly believing her own eyes. She opened her mouth as if to continue screaming, but noticed just then that Aragorn was wearing a dress. Her dress.
"Is that my dress?!" Arwen asked in disbelief.
"Um...." Aragorn searched for an explanation, but found that he had been deserted by words and coherent sentences. Luckily for him, Legolas had not.
"What's the big deal?" Legolas asked, his hands still caressing Aragorn's body. "It looks better on Aragorn anyway."
Both Aragorn and Arwen's mouths hung open in shock at the words just spoken by the Elf. Aragorn could no longer contain himself, and he threw his head back as he burst out laughing. Arwen gasped as she remembered what Elrond had told her. //Friend of Dorothy, indeed!!// she thought to herself.
Gathering up her pride, Arwen looked right at Aragorn. "If this is truly what you desire, then I will not stand in your way. I wish only for your happiness, even if it is not with me." Arwen sighed, trying not to notice Legolas's fingers stroking Aragorn's neck.
Aragorn bowed his head to the Elvish princess, as a sign of respect and gratitude. She moved to leave the room, but one final thought pressed itself into her brain, asking to be voiced.
"Aragorn, one more thing."
He lifted his head to look at her. "Yes?"
"Keep the dress."
~*~THE END~*~
So there you have it, ladies and gents. Liked it? Loved it? Hated it? Eager to throw my body into the fires of Mount Doom? Go right ahead and tell me, for I cherish and adore all feedback. Hehe. =) Thanks for reading!
~*~
It Looks Better On Aragorn
~*~
Arwen was anxious. For the past several nights, she had waited for Aragorn to come to her. Nearly a week's time had passed since she gave to him the Evenstar, and his repeated failure to appear at her bedside distressed the Elvish princess to no end. Her blood grew hot with anger and frustration as her bedchamber remained empty and her sheets cold, night after night. On the sixth night of no-show Aragorn, Arwen decided to take action.
~*~
"Elrond!"
A loud gasp escaped Elrond's throat as the mirror in his hands clattered to the floor. He glared at Arwen, displeased that she had chosen to interrupt him during the painstaking process of arranging each strand of his hair beneath his headband. Slowly, Elrond descended down the stairs to greet his daughter.
"Arwen, Daughter, apologies. You startled me with your unexpected intrusion."
"I did not mean to, Father. I'm sorry."
Elrond gracefully made his way over to the chair next to Arwen. He sat down, reaching for something on the floor beside it. "You are upset about something," he said, and Arwen nodded somberly. Elrond sat back up, a pipe (a gift from Pippin) in his hand. He was pleased to discover that there was still a bit of the Shire leaf in it. Seizing a flint, Elrond lit the pipe. "Now then," he said, taking in a long bit of the leaf's fragance. "Tell me what ails you."
"It's Aragorn."
Elrond coughed upon hearing the Ranger's name, sputtering as he choked on the fumes of the pungent weed. "Aragorn, you say?" Elrond wheezed, his voice several octaves too high. He quickly cleared his throat and regained his stoic, Elf composure. "Aragorn," Elrond repeated, his tone now normal.
"Yes. I have not seen him for several days now. Ever since I professed my undying love to him, he has not come to me. I do not understand why," Arwen whispered, a lump rising in her throat.
"Oh, my child, do not grieve," Elrond replied, rising from the chair on slightly wobbly legs. "There, there," he said, draping an arm around Arwen's shoulders. "Ask anything of me, anything at all, and I will supply you with any answers I may have."
Arwen turned to look at him, her eyes lined with tears. "I need to know, Father. Why will he not come to me? Has another woman laid claim to my beloved's heart?"
Elrond took a deep breath. He knew the answer to her question, but feared how she would react to it. Elrond furrowed his brow in frustration. How could he tell poor Arwen the truth?"
"Yes....in a manner of speaking."
Arwen's eyes widened threefold. "Father, please. A name. You must tell me her name!"
"Her name is....Dorothy."
Arwen opened her mouth as if to continue her rant, but then closed it. "Dorothy? What sort of a name is that?"
"Well, actually....Aragorn is more like a friend of hers," said Elrond, not looking at her for fear that he would laugh.
"Then he is in doubt! I must go to him, I must convince him that it is I whom he loves!" The tears were gone from Arwen's eyes, and her spirits were roused. "Where is he, Father? Where is Aragorn?"
Elrond sighed. His daughter was determined now, and he knew that no amount of persuasion would change her mind. Suddenly, a feeling of familiarity washed over Elrond, and he looked up, as if sensing a presence.
"I know where Aragorn is."
"Where? Father, tell me!!" Arwen cried, desperate to confront Aragorn before it was too late.
"He is within."
"Within? Here? Where?
"In your chambers," Elrond replied, a knowing smirk upon his lips.
~*~In Arwen's Chambers~*~
"Aragorn! Come on, already! I want to see you!" Legolas Greenleaf lay sprawled across Arwen's bed, his long legs dangling off the side.
"All right, all right. Gods, this thing has so many clasps and buttons! It's far too difficult to get into." Aragorn replied from behind a large, silken screen.
"Oh, surely it's not that bad. Besides, Arwen wears loose-fitting clothing. It allows for easier access," said Legolas.
Aragorn snorted. "You are so lucky she didn't hear you say that."
Legolas's eyes widened upon realizing what the Man meant. "I didn't mean it like that!!" he yelled, and laughed anyway, since it was true. "Will you please come out now?!"
"I thought I already did."
"Oh, shut up. Come onnn, Estel, I want to see you!!" Legolas pouted, fiddling with the drawstring that held up his leggings. He still could not believe that Aragorn had hatched such a crazy plan, even as they snuck into Arwen's chamber that morning after she ran off to where-they-knew-not.
"Here, see this," Aragorn laughed, tossing a piece of armor over the screen; in fact, the piece of armor that guarded his most precious region.
Legolas screamed at the unexpected flying metal, and his Elf reflexes kicked in as he caught it without effort. "Aragorn!" he exclaimed, recognizing the metal. He grinned to himself and pressed the armor piece to his nose. Sniffing loudly, Legolas growled in his best mock-Orc tone: "Mmm. I smell man-flesh!"
At this, Aragorn let out a tremendous laugh. "All right, that's it, I'm coming out now!!" he yelled, charging out from behind the screen.
"NOOOOO!" Legolas yelled as Aragorn came running out clad in one of Arwen' dresses, a royal purple number with delicate white lace cuffs at the wrists.
~*~Meanwhile, Arwen has just run down the corridor and has arrived at her chambers. She hears voices within, and discerns them as that of Aragorn and Legolas. Not wanting to give herself away, she crouches down and peers in through the narrow crack in the door to her room.~*~
Legolas could not stop giggling as Aragorn tickled him through his layers of clothing. "Careful, now, or you'll ruin Arwen's dress. You wouldn't want that, would you?" The Elf's voice bordered on the seductive as he ran his hands up and down the Man's cloth-covered sides, caressing the muscled flesh beneath.
Upon hearing this, an extremely pissed-off Arwen stormed in, eyes bulging wide at the sight of Aragorn straddling Legolas. On her bed.
"ARAGORN! LEGOLAS!" she exclaimed, hardly believing her own eyes. She opened her mouth as if to continue screaming, but noticed just then that Aragorn was wearing a dress. Her dress.
"Is that my dress?!" Arwen asked in disbelief.
"Um...." Aragorn searched for an explanation, but found that he had been deserted by words and coherent sentences. Luckily for him, Legolas had not.
"What's the big deal?" Legolas asked, his hands still caressing Aragorn's body. "It looks better on Aragorn anyway."
Both Aragorn and Arwen's mouths hung open in shock at the words just spoken by the Elf. Aragorn could no longer contain himself, and he threw his head back as he burst out laughing. Arwen gasped as she remembered what Elrond had told her. //Friend of Dorothy, indeed!!// she thought to herself.
Gathering up her pride, Arwen looked right at Aragorn. "If this is truly what you desire, then I will not stand in your way. I wish only for your happiness, even if it is not with me." Arwen sighed, trying not to notice Legolas's fingers stroking Aragorn's neck.
Aragorn bowed his head to the Elvish princess, as a sign of respect and gratitude. She moved to leave the room, but one final thought pressed itself into her brain, asking to be voiced.
"Aragorn, one more thing."
He lifted his head to look at her. "Yes?"
"Keep the dress."
~*~THE END~*~
So there you have it, ladies and gents. Liked it? Loved it? Hated it? Eager to throw my body into the fires of Mount Doom? Go right ahead and tell me, for I cherish and adore all feedback. Hehe. =) Thanks for reading!