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Intentions (NC-17) Print

Written by RubyElf

18 March 2012 | 26062 words

Title: Intentions
Author: RubyElf
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Faramir & Legolas

Thranduil arrives unexpectedly, Arwen solves everybody’s problems before dinner, Eomer is looking for his elf, hobbits are unhappy, Boromir is annoyed, and apparently Gandalf has shown up with some plans for Legolas and Faramir that perhaps he should have asked them about first.

[ all pages ]

Intentions – Part 7

Boromir sprawled in his chair, scowling, as Aragorn poured a mug of tea from the kettle over the fire and handed it to him.

“Does this taste terrible?”

“Probably. I did put some peppermint in it.”

Boromir shrugged and sipped the tea warily. “Could be worse.”

Aragorn poured himself a mug of the tea and settled into the opposite chair. “It appears you and Legolas had an interesting night.”

“That was the elf’s fault. He showed up and said he wanted to get drunk, and… oh, hell! Where is he? Is Thranduil here yet? Who’s keeping an eye out for him?”

Unable to tolerate the pounding in his head that this outburst ignited, he slumped in his chair again, palms pressed to his temples.

“It’s all right,” Aragorn said. “I arranged for a proper diplomat to meet with him on his arrival.”

“We have a proper diplomat?” Boromir asked, raising his eyebrows.


Boromir contemplated this for a moment before nodding his grudging approval. “I suppose she won’t tolerate any foolishness from him, will she.”

“She will not,” Aragorn agreed. “She has informed me that she doesn’t trust either of us to handle the situation, so we’re to stay here and behave ourselves while she sorts it out.”

“And my brother’s keeping an eye on Legolas?”

“More than an eye, I’d suspect…”

Boromir groaned and closed his eyes. “My head hurts enough without you putting pictures like that in it.”

“That’s no one’s fault but your own,” Aragorn said.

Boromir cautiously opened one eye. “A friend came to me in need of a drinking companion. What was I to do, send him away?”

“I suppose not,” Aragorn said. “Although for future reference, drinking with elves is an extremely hazardous pastime. Last time I agreed to it, I was still living under Elrond’s roof, and let Elladan and Elrohir talk me into coming out drinking with them… I woke up the next morning with aches in some places one doesn’t normally injure by stumbling about or falling down, if you know what I mean.”

“Depends on what you fall on,” Boromir said, smirking.

Aagorn rolled his eyes. “That’s the worst excuse imaginable. Can you imagine trying that one?”

Boromir attempted a bad mimicry of a young Aragorn’s quavering voice. “Oh, dear… Elladan, do you have any idea how I manage to have slipped in the shower and ended up with your cock up my arse?”

“Hmm. Probably the same way you ‘fell’ on your birthday and ended up with my cock in your mouth.”

“That was your fault.”

“Of course it was,” Aragorn said, grinning. “Isn’t it always?”


“Berendir didn’t tell us anything,” Pippin pouted, following Merry down the hall.

“Did you really think he was going to?” Merry asked, giving Pippin a sharp look. “After the questions you asked him, I wouldn’t have told you anything either.”

“It was a reasonable question!” Pippin protested. “Inquiring minds wanted to know!”

“Intelligent minds had better sense than to ask!” Merry shot back. “Did you really think he was going to tell us how many times an elf can…”

He stopped abruptly, and Pippin nearly ran into him.

“Shh!” Merry hissed. “Listen.”

Pippin listened. “That sounds like Legolas and Faramir. They’re in the bath. Wonder what they’re up to… oh, my!”

Merry grinned; one of the two had just made a rather loud and interesting noise that might have been intended to be a word. The two hobbits crept toward the bathroom door, bare feet silent on the stones, and Merry stood on his toes to peer through the keyhole. His eyes widened.

“Good lord, Pip!” he whispered. “That’s one thing about elves I didn’t know… did you know Legolas can…”

“Not fair!” Pippin squeaked. “Let me see!”

“In a minute! Oh, my…”

“Merry!” Pippin whined.

An indignant voice rang out from inside the bathroom. “That had better not be a couple of nosy hobbits!”

Merry jumped back, crashing into Pippin, and the two of them landed in a pile on the floor.

“I told you to be quiet!” Merry exclaimed.

“You wouldn’t let me see!”

They tussled for a moment, stopping only when they realized they were staring at a pair of long legs in green breeches and leather boots. They scrambled to their feet, startled.

“Thranduil!” Pippin gasped.

The Elf King looked down at them with bemused disapproval. Behind him, Arwen tried to hide a smile.

“King Thranduil, I believe you’ve met Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took.”

“I have,” he replied coolly. “Last time I met that one, he had a knife at my back.”

Merry bristled. “Last time we met you, you were trying to make your own son…”

“That’s all in the past,” Arwen interrupted briskly, giving Merry a stern look. “You must understand, King Thranduil, that hobbits are extremely loyal to their friends.”

“Why my son needs hobbits for friends is entirely beyond me,” the elf muttered. “Where is King Elessar? I believed I’d be meeting with him.”

Arwen turned her disapproving gaze on the elf. “I’m the Queen of Gondor. Whatever you want, you can negotiate it with me. My husband is occupied.”

Thranduil scowled. “I would question why your husband tolerates having hobbits running about in his halls, peeping in keyholes and causing trouble.”

Arwen glanced at Merry and Pippin. “I’m certain they are not causing any sort of trouble and were just going off to their rooms now to make sure they stay out of trouble.”

“We were going to…” Pippin began.

“Go off to our rooms now to make sure we stay out of trouble,” Merry interrupted quickly, grabbing Pippin by the arm. “Come along, Pip.”


Inside the bathroom, Faramir and Legolas had both fallen silent, listening to the voices outside the door. The elf’s initial indignation at realizing they were being spied on had evaporated at hearing his father’s voice, and now he was pressed against the side of the bath, wide-eyed and still. Faramir watched him for a long moment after the footsteps had faded down the hall before extending his leg through the water and prodding Legolas with his foot.

“Are you all right?”

Legolas jumped. “Of course I am.”

“He doesn’t have any power here, you know,” Faramir said, as Legolas slid closer and let the man wrap his arms around him. “Really… he doesn’t even get the privilege of meeting with the king; he has to meet with his wife.”

“If he knew how things really got done in Gondor, he’d have asked to meet with her first,” Legolas muttered. “Besides, the only reason Aragorn’s not meeting with him is because he’s tending to your brother.”

Faramir grinned as his mouth found the pointed tip of the elf’s ear and Legolas began to melt against him, sighing.

“You didn’t tell me exactly how you and my brother ended up in such a questionable position.”

“You could have looked in on me last night and seen what I was up to.”

“I tried,” Faramir said, chuckling. “I think I started feeling tipsy from twenty miles away, just from glancing into your head.”

“Serves you right. You’re as bad as hobbits looking in keyholes.”

“Oh, don’t be too annoyed with them,” Faramir said, turning Legolas around to face him. “They just wanted to enjoy the view. Doesn’t everyone?”

“That particular view isn’t intended for anyone but you,” Legolas said. “Don’t you think we should get out of the bath and go see what my father wants?”

“I don’t think we should go and meet with your father until I make sure you can’t talk to him without blushing,” Faramir said.

“Why would I be blushing?” Legolas demanded, frowning.

“Because,” Fararmir murmured, getting a better grip on his elf, “you’ll never be able to look at him with a straight face when all you can think about is what he’d say if he knew you’d just been fucked senseless by Boromir’s little brother.”

Legolas considered this for a moment. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been fucked senseless.”

“Then I have quite the task on my hands, don’t I?”


“Lord Boromir!”

Boromir groaned as Aragorn broke the kiss and looked up. “Someone’s at your door.”

“What do you want?” he demanded, wincing at the volume of his own voice.

“Lord Boromir, a guest has arrived and is asking to meet with you!”

Aragorn sighed and moved to slide off Boromir’s lap, but the other man growled and held him in place.

“Tell them to bugger off!”

Silence for a moment, except Aragorn’s muffled chuckle.

“Sir? You wish me to tell King Éomer of the Riddermark to ‘bugger off’?”

“Éomer?” Boromir said, raising his eyebrows as Aragorn sat up. “No. That would be rude. Tell him to go shove his head up his horse’s…”

“Tell him Lord Boromir will be with him in a few minutes!” Aragorn interrupted, clapping a hand over Boromir’s mouth.

“What does that bastard want?” Boromir asked, when he had pried Aragorn’s hand away.

Aragorn smiled. “I’m guessing he wants his elf.”

“Well, tell him to go get his bloody elf and leave me alone.”

“That’s not very diplomatic, Boromir,” Aragorn scolded.

Boromir muttered some very un-diplomatic phrases as Aragorn climbed off his lap and went to find him some decent clothes.

“Oh, and Boromir?”


“Wash your face. You still smell like whiskey.”

“You think Éomer will care?”

“I think he’ll be annoyed you got horribly drunk and didn’t invite him to join you. Now, come get dressed.”

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4 Comment(s)

Well, that was just great! I really enjoyed this.

— Ria    Monday 19 March 2012, 2:25    #

Heehee, Hobbits! XD I can almost hear their incessant chatter about each and everything. Of course they would pretend to be all timid and shy – and then make whispered remarks about the other party guests, loud enough everyone can hear.

The whole scenery seems like something that happened during lunch break on the Ring set. Like: somebody (most likely one of the hobbit actors) snatched a camera and then they were going to do their own version of The Secret life in Middle Earth. Thinking about it I´m absolutely positive there is a secret extra somewhere in a sinister corner of the DVD…

And I must say I find the idea of Arwen having fun with itching powder very pleasing – and perhaps she would as well. It must be so annoying to spend all your time being wise and serene, especially with all these lively halflings around. The longer I think about it the more I like the idea of stripping all these over-glamorous characters of their flawlessness – at least a tiny bit… >:)

A refreshing look at a lighter and funnier Middle Earth – I bet there are even such things as fart cushions (in Arwen´s drawer)! XDDD

— raven22372    Wednesday 21 March 2012, 16:23    #

hahaha, I have laughed nonstop at this end! hahah!

— Laivindur    Thursday 22 March 2012, 18:38    #

Oh, I just love Pippin!!! “Makes it up as he goes along!” hahaha

— Laivindur    Thursday 22 March 2012, 19:10    #

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For more of RubyElf’s work, visit her LiveJournal.