keelywolfe | Threesome fic for all the LOTR fans out there....

I started writing this story ages ago and it stalled, terribly, and I set it aside, figuring I'd figure out was wrong eventually. Well, I never did, but cara_chapel did, so I actually worked on it for a while.

This is the first bit. It's not finished by a long shot, but hey, there is sex so I thought I'd share.

See, sithdragn, I told you I'd get to it! *G*

Pairing: Legolas/Boromir/Aragorn

**

There was very little in Middle Earth that could truly disturb Boromir of Gondor. He had been raised with the knowledge that one day he would take his father's place as the Steward of Gondor and with that knowledge came consciousness of the responsibilities that came with such a duty. It was true that at times his temper could cloud his thoughts, but as a trained warrior he would never let fear do the same.

Still, there was something about the bathing rooms of Rivendell that Boromir found quite unsettling, though he could not think of why.

It could not be the public nature of it; bathhouses were the way of things in Gondor as well, though he had gone to them but rarely himself, preferring the clean chill of river water to murky depths of the tubs used by countless men with fresh water added only to keep the tubs filled rather than going through all the work to change it entirely.

Aside from the fact that both were indoors Boromir could claim no relation between those bathhouses and this one in Rivendell. This water was clear as a summer sky, as pristine as the rest of the places Boromir had seen here and instead of several wooden tubs scattered about the room, there was but one large pool in the center, seemingly built into the floor and the water had already been heated though Boromir knew not how.

Unsettling or not, there was a certain appeal to warm water, he admitted and certain parts of his body agreed that it was far better than washing in a river where you might see a chunk of ice float merrily by. For all the oddity of their ways and their exasperating penchant towards appearing mysterious, the Elves did have the right of it where some things were concerned.

Boromir was taking it upon himself to enjoy the hospitality of his hosts daily; when the Company finally departed on their quest there was no guessing when any of them would get a chance to bathe, or indeed if they ever would again. With the idea of months of travel with unwashed Hobbits and Dwarves in his head, Boromir had decided he'd best take his pleasures while he could.

In the nighttime hour he relaxed in the bathing pool for as long as he could bear it, marveling as the water swirled around him of its own accord. Truly these baths were far too decadent, he decided one night as he sleepily rested his head against the rim of the pool. He had not slept so peacefully in years as he did after soaking in this warm water, and if he did not know all too well the mocking he would receive for it, he would have been pleased to arrange for something similar back in his home city.

A shame, he lamented, that this would end, and quite soon at that. Truly a shame.

"It would seem that we are not the only ones who thought to relax in the baths this night."

Startling, Boromir sat up quickly, automatically shifting away from the voice, his hand shifting warily to the knife he'd left on the floor nearby. He stopped immediately when he saw who the invaders were, lest he amuse them more than he already had and he was abruptly reminded as to why he preferred to bathe in the river. He sighed and relaxed back into the water, resigned to sharing his bath this evening.

There were no smiles on their faces, but Boromir was certain he had seen amusement in their eyes. Aragorn, and the Elf who was to travel with them, blast and damned if Boromir could remember his name, and why could not Elves choose normal names for their children? Not that his people could speak much on that; Aragorn, son of Arathorn, indeed. He might well be Isildur's heir, but he was no King of Men. To Boromir's eyes, Aragorn was more of an Elf than a Man, in his ways if not in his appearance. Still, they were certain to be traveling together for some time. Better that they should be on friendly terms here, in this place of peace, before attempting such a journey as they had before them.

He nodded a greeting at them, and closed his eyes, listening as they both began stripping off their clothing, talking softly in the language of the Elves.

This separate room had been designated for use by the guests, though Boromir had noted, with some disgust, that the Dwarves had not made much use of it unless they did so while he slept. A thoughtful gesture by the Lord of Rivendell, and one Boromir had quite forgotten. The Hobbits seemed to prefer the mornings for their ablutions, so he had had the bath to himself at night for the past several days.

Odd that Aragorn would choose to use this bath. He had been under the impression that Aragorn was not precisely a guest in this place, but it would appear that he wished to join his friend... Laurelin? No, that was the one who ran the kitchens. Something similar, though, if only he could think of it...

Curiosity was pricking at his thoughts, and Boromir found he could not resist watching them undress from beneath his lashes, his eyes on the Elf. Despite his opinions on their names, there was something about Elves that called to him, softly, a certain otherworldly beauty, and this Elf was no exception. Ere to his journey here, Boromir had seen Elves only in paintings, and most of the tales he had heard, though they often had not cast them in the most favorable light, had only added to his interest.

Aside from that, Boromir admitted to a shameful curiosity as to whether Elves were as hairless on the rest of their bodies as they were on their faces, and as it wasn't a topic easily brought up in idle conversation, this would seem the best way to find the truth of the matter.

His tunic was already removed and set neatly folded on one of the benches that lined the wall, and Boromir tried to watch without appearing to do so as the Elf loosened the ties on his breeches, chuckling at whatever it was Aragorn had said to him.

Probably some jest about him, Boromir thought with faint annoyance, so very Elvish to speak in a language unknown to someone else in a room. The thought irritated him so that it took him a moment to realize Aragorn had spoken to him, and in the Common Tongue at that.

"Best not fall asleep in there. We've yet to have anyone drown in the bathhouses and I would rather you were not the first."

Mortified, Boromir sat up, saying, "I am not asleep," yet his words were drowned in the splash of water as Aragorn and his friend Elf clambered into the tub. A tiny wave struck him full in the face and Boromir sputtered indignantly, wiping uselessly with a wet hand.

His 'guests' didn't seem to notice as they settled into the water with a chorus of sighs. "It was kind of them to provide us with our own bath," the Elf murmured, obviously as pleased as Boromir had been a scant few minutes before. Aragorn had settled into his side of the bath and did not seem inclined to speak at all and Boromir was irked to find his opportunity to see the Elf naked had passed, the water deep enough to conceal quite well the very parts Boromir had wished to see.

"I doubt they meant it as a kindness," Boromir sniffed, unwilling to let go of his displeasure. Perhaps if he were rude enough the two of them would leave and give him some peace. "Likely, they wanted to spare their sensibilities of the sight of Dwarves and Men without their clothes."

Peace seemed that much more unlikely as Aragorn and Legolas both laughed, and Boromir felt his anger rising at being the source of some unknown jest, biting his tongue as he vowed not to answer any more of their nonsensical questions. Aragorn had obviously gone daft from spending too much time in this sort of company.

"It is not their sensibilities they wish to protect, but rather yours," Aragorn replied finally, humor still evident in his voice. "I'm sure they thought you might not appreciate some of the aspects of Elvish baths."Irritation prickled its way up Boromir's spine until it reached his head, waging a battle and eventually destroying his vow not to speak again. "I doubt any secret they wished to hide could be so offensive to me," he replied coolly, not bothering to open his eyes. No doubt some meditation on the clarity of the water, or some such nonsense that Elves seemed prone to.

"Oh, surely not." Something about the Elf's tone made Boromir slant a glance in his direction; he was giving Boromir a look that, had it come from any other than an Elf, he would have surely called it sly. "I should think I could reveal the secret without risk of traumatizing you for all time. If you like."

Unwanted curiosity burned within him, taking the place of his irritation. "Aye, all right then. What is it that Elves do so differently?"

"Well, for one, if I were in a bath amongst others of my kind, I should not be surprised were someone to do this." Strange, liquid warmth surrounded the lobe of his ear and Boromir opened his eyes in shock as the Elf began to gently suck on the tender flesh.

The Elf was gone before he could react, moving with a gentle wave of water to his former place. Boromir stared at him, searching for words, yet his mind had blanked at the Elf's first touch.

A soft chuckle came from his other side, and Boromir glanced to Aragorn, who murmured laconically, "You have not changed overly much since last we spoke, Legolas. You are still a flirt and a tease."

"Nonsense," the Elf replied with a sly, and yes, Boromir could see now that it was sly indeed, smile. "A flirt and a tease is one who does not carry out his promises." He cast a last glance at Boromir, who was certain he could see startlingly dark promises in those blue eyes. But surely not, he thought, sinking deeper into the water and casting his own eyes downward so the Elf might not see his confusion within them. Foolish to think an Elf might hold an interest in Men, particularly this one who could easily satisfy whatever curiosities he might have with the friend who sat next to them.

The Elf, Legolas, his mind helpfully supplied, said nothing more and Boromir found he had finally gather enough of his wits to speak. "If that is what you are accustomed to in Elvish baths," he murmured, "Then truly, it must be difficult for you to endure the hardship of bathing with Men, rather than enjoying the delights of your own people."

"Very kind of you to think of it, but then, did you not say that I could not offend you?" Legolas replied easily, and he could not be simply imagining the challenge in Legolas' voice, Boromir decided, nor the wickedness in the curve of his smile, and he thought it might take a much greater fool than he to refuse it. A glance at Aragorn told him nothing; for all his earlier concerns about Boromir drowning, the man appeared to be asleep. The Elf had not moved, reclining against the side of the tub he watched Boromir lazily, waiting.

Well, it was often said that an adventure untaken was an adventure wasted.

"I did say that, indeed," Boromir replied, finally, and he had hardly the time to see the bright flash of a smile on the Elf's face before he had returned to Boromir's side and again, soft, wet lips caressed his ear. Boromir shivered and let his eyes slip closed. "Perhaps I spoke hastily," he amended, the huskiness of his voice betraying him.

"Those who speak without thought often speak the truth," Legolas whispered, his hands seeking beneath the water. He found Boromir's own hand and lifted it from the bath to his lips, catching droplets from Boromir's fingertips with the tip of his tongue. "But perhaps you did not," he continued, his breath warm against Boromir's palm. "Tell me, then, how far must I go to offend you?"

"Much further than this," Boromir breathed, growing suddenly impatient with the Elf's teasing. He looped an arm around Legolas' neck and pulled the Elf close to him, finally tasting the lips that had teased him so.

A light gasp of sweet breath was the only response from the Elf, who remained still within Boromir's embrace, until the Man began to fear he had erred. Perhaps Elves did not kiss others upon the mouth. The idea was not unheard of and Boromir began to draw back regretfully, readying an apology.

Yet almost as quickly as he thought of it, Legolas seemed to recover from his surprise and began to respond to the kiss, his tongue deft and cool as it slipped within Boromir's mouth, tasting strange and overly sweet, like the wine so favored by the Elves. He settled himself easily into Boromir's lap, a sudden shock of naked, slick flesh pressed against his own and with it came a surge of unpleasant reality as his more practical side, the son of the Steward of Gondor, questioned the wisdom in this.

Boromir broke the kiss to look at the Elf, who seemed to take that as an invitation to explore other areas, his lips trailing downward, past the line of his beard to nibble at the bare flesh of his neck. A tiny sound escaped Boromir and he caught at Elf's shoulders, his hands tangling of their own will in the wet strands of hair caught there.

"I would have thought you would prefer your companion for such things as this," Boromir grated out and regretted saying it as soon as the words passed from his lips, because certainly now the Elf would join Aragorn rather than stay with a scarcely known and truly Human man. He was not certain that he could sit here and watch them, yet he was not at all confident he could leave if they did begin with each other.

Legolas paused, and pulled back to look at him. "Indeed?" He seemed to ponder the idea, his hand sliding down Boromir's arm almost absently. "But then, what of his preferences?" He tilted his head enough to look at the other Man, who was resting against his side of the tub, seemingly oblivious to their antics. "Aragorn?" Legolas called softly, "Boromir posed an interesting question. Do you..."

"I heard perfectly well what Boromir asked," Aragorn replied, eyes still closed. "And I would rather that my preferences were not debated in my presence."

"Ah, Aragorn prefers wordplay to loveplay in the bath," Legolas laughed. "One would think you were..." He said something then in his own language and though Boromir could not understand him, the goad he heard in the Elf's tone seemed enough that Aragorn opened his eyes.

"Name calling should be reserved for children," he said mildly and Legolas laughed.

"And no children should be in this bath, that is for certain!" the Elf teased, and Boromir gasped as Legolas' hand slipped beneath the water and encircled him, sliding lightly down the length of his cock and pausing to cup the heaviness beneath. Such easy intimacy in the touch, the Elf never giving pause even as half a protest rose from Boromir, who was startled at the abruptness of the caress.

"Relax," Legolas whispered, his other hand smoothing a path low on Boromir's stomach before joining the first. The water seemed almost too warm and Boromir could dimly feel sweat making slippery trails down his back as he pushed into the slick tunnel formed by the Elf's hands. That such a pleasure could be had in the bath had never occurred to him, though he could admit no surprise that it was the Elves who'd had the thought.

So intent he was on Legolas' busily working hands that Boromir nearly flinched as he felt lips once again on his ear, and then teeth, worrying the lobe ungently and Boromir hissed out a curse yet did not pull away. Instead, he tightened his grip on the Elf, pulling him closer and trapped his hands into stillness between them. So close were they now that he could feel the Elf's shaft pressing against him, and quickly, before he lost his nerve Boromir dipped a hand between them and caught it in his grasp.

Legolas let out a soft cry, and shuddered, arching his hips upward eagerly. "Ah, Men do have good ideas," he laughed, breathlessly, his voice catching as Boromir slid his hand lower and finally satisfied his curiosity. There was fine, soft hair between the Elf's legs, catching lightly on the calluses on Boromir's fingers but Legolas did not protest with anything more than an impatient thrust of his hips.

Obediently, Boromir tightened his grip, both of them stroking the other in an almost awkward shift of arms and elbows, if Boromir were ever to claim an Elf could be awkward. He buried his face into the curve of Legolas' shoulder, rubbing his own bearded face against the smooth skin and earning a delightful squirm in return. Never had he thought to do this with an Elf, nor had he ever considered the strange pleasure of it, the delicious skill of Elvish fingers on his skin, creating their own rhythm apart from Boromir's. Soft gasps were escaping Legolas now, and he trembled lightly, his own hands moving quicker, and Boromir opened his eyes almost absently, wishing to see the Elf's expression when he came.

On the other side of the tub, Aragorn was watching them, through half-opened eyes. Their eyes met, briefly, and Boromir froze, heat flooding his cheeks. He almost didn't hear the Elf's disappointed protest, his hips arching impatiently even as his hands tightened on Boromir. That had the effect of ending his paralysis and he yelped slightly, leaning back to frown at Legolas.

Legolas immediately lightened his grip and met Boromir's frown with one of his own even as he panted softly, still rolling his hips against Boromir. Even more beautiful like this, cheeks flushed and lips reddened. At least in this Elves were like Men, their cool cryptic elegance smeared into sweaty need. The ends of his hair were wet, darker gold that clung damply against his shoulders, the braids just above the points of his ears looser in the heat. Another stark reminder that this was not a Man in his arms, and Boromir automatically looked over Legolas' shoulder, at the other Man who was in the room.

Aragorn met his eyes evenly but did not speak. Both his hands were resting on the sides of the tub. It would appear he was only watching them, his breath even and calm, and this time Legolas followed Boromir's gaze, looking over his shoulder at Aragorn. He made an impatient noise as he turned back, his hands once again moving over Boromir.

"Does it bother you?" he leaned forward to whisper against Boromir's ear, one of his hands curling around Boromir's, urging it back into motion. "Have I finally offended you?"

"N-no," he stuttered, closing his eyes against those watching him. "No," he repeated, stronger this time and he rubbed his thumb over the tip of the Elf's shaft, savoring his pleased moan. "I would fear more offending him."

"If he did not want to be here, he would leave."

True enough, and Boromir was soon smothering his own cries against Legolas' shoulder. The Elf wriggling in his lap, warm and strong against him, as lithe as an eel and making little, frantic noises deep in his throat. The water sloshed dangerously around them, splashing over the side to patter loudly against the floor but Boromir could not spare a thought to be concerned as fresh heat spilled over both their hands, the Elf kissing him suddenly, his tongue clever and warm in Boromir's mouth.

The water seemed all-too hot now, clinging silkily to his skin and drawing sweat to bead on his face and shoulders, tickling little paths downward before a deft tongue lifted them away. Boromir caressed Legolas' back and shoulders with damp, trembling fingers, his skin softer than anything Boromir had imagined. He sighed as Legolas raised his head to kiss him once more, a gentling kiss that came with the end of a coupling and Boromir accepted it regretfully. Unexpected as it had been, it was also one of the most pleasant surprises he'd had in some time. He cautioned himself against expecting more than that.

Still, he felt a slight twinge within as the Elf moved away to sit next to him, lolling against the edge of the tub. He saw Boromir watching him and ran his tongue over his teeth in an almost obscene gesture that nearly had Boromir laughing. Never had any of the stories he'd heard mentioned this side of the Elves, this playful eroticism. Such fascinating creatures...

"I trust I did not offend you," asked Legolas, his voice low and amused.

"No, you did not,"

"You should get some sleep. Tomorrow is likely to be a long day for us all," he said lightly, and there was a prompt in his voice that pained Boromir to hear and he noticed that neither he nor Aragorn made a move to do the same.

"Yes, I believe I should," he said at last, refusing to wait for a second and perhaps less tactful encouragement to leave. He supposed he was ridiculous then, that in the space of a single remarkable coupling he had allowed himself to fall as predictably as any mortal who laid eyes on the beauty of an Elf. It was of no matter, he decided, daring a last touch to Legolas' shoulder before he climbed from the tub. If he were only as foolish as other Men, and not more so, then he would have no regrets.

A last glance at the waters showed them to be as clear as when he had entered them, but Boromir felt no surprise at that. If all Elves behaved as such in the bath then they would need their little tricks lest they do nothing but change bathwater all their days. He dried himself and dressed quickly, though both Aragorn and Legolas had closed their eyes again. When he was finished he left without a word of parting nor did he receive one, and when he heard a splash of water and soft laughter behind him, he did not pause to look back.

**

I know, I know. They were a little mean. They'll make it up to him, I promise....*EG*