Posted: June 2004
Title: The Effects of Ale on Wood Elves
Author: Haleth Haladin
Characters: Legolas/Gimli, various anonymous gay Mirkwood Elves, Legolas/Gandalf implied, Aragorn/Arwen
Rating: Oh, I'd say about an NC-17
Warning: Ale-induced slashy orgy, voyeurism on the part of a naughty ranger, completely noncanonical use of the word ‘buns'.
Notes: In response to reader interest about incidents alluded to in ‘The Drinking Game, available here

"It is nothing special. We get very randy and we have wild, passionate orgies." Legolas smiled fondly as he remembered patrolling the depths of Mirkwood. "But we stay alert for spiders and Orcs throughout the festivities," he added prudently.

AND

"And Wizards…" Legolas trailed off and looked back up at the sky. Gimli could have sworn his eyes grew misty. Legolas sighed, and Gimli watched in fascination as a pale hand, which had been resting on Legolas's knee, trailed up a taut thigh and came to rest under his long tunic, somewhere in the vicinity, judging by what Gimli had seen earlier, of a rather beautiful Elven crown. "Wizards are lovely," Legolas whispered.

Summary: Prequel of sorts to the Drinking Game, elaborates on the quotes above.

*****

The first Elf was decidedly naked, from head to toe, and had his long, lithe arms stretched out at roughly shoulder height, held in place by the second and third Elves, who were in different states of undress, one wearing only a pair of sinfully tight suede leggings, and the other clad in nothing but a silk tunic and a pair of soft leather boots. The fourth was fully clothed, as he was much too preoccupied with what he was doing to disrobe. He licked his way down the body of the first Elf, sucking noisily on the tender skin of his neck, then nibbling at a pink nipple. The first Elf had his eyes closed and was thrusting his hips forward frantically. The fourth Elf was careful to hold his body far away, making contact with only his agile mouth, and his hands, strong, callused from a lifetime of archery, and obviously well practiced at what they were doing.

Aragorn bit his lip to keep from crying out.

This was not what he had expected to find in the forest of Mirkwood.

He slipped deeper into the shade of the tree he stood under, and watched carefully. He did not know any of the Elves in question. In fact, in this light - from this position, with them in those positions and doing those things - he could only tell them apart by their various states of nudity. They were all breathtakingly alluring; all had equally beautiful long, golden hair, pulled back in the same practical warrior braids to keep it off their stunning faces but flowing freely down their backs. Lean, strong, rippling backs, Aragorn thought, with powerful shoulders and sinewy arms that showed centuries of training with every move they made. The second Elf licked along the first Elf's arm, from wrist to shoulder.

That was the same moan Aragorn had heard earlier, the one that had drawn him – nay, forced him – to make his way stealthily through the forest to this spot.

The third Elf threw off his shirt, revealing a pale spare torso that glowed in the murky afternoon light. Those were the pinkest, hardest nipples Aragorn had ever seen in his life. Not that Aragorn had seen all that many nipples, pink or hard. But the sheer hardness of them was difficult to ignore, and the curve of the muscles underneath was exquisite. And the pink went without saying.

Then Aragorn's eyes wandered down the smooth torso to the… oh. My. He had never seen anything quite like that before.

He had seen Elven penises before. In the bath. While swimming in the nude with his brothers. One could not help but glimpse a naked male or two while growing up in Rivendell. But he'd never seen one like that before.

Hard. And long. And rather pinkish. And when it was lined up with the hard penis of the first Elf, the moans were more than loud.

The fourth Elf began to strip off his gear, suede jerkin and coarse tunic and silk shirt and leggings, until he stood naked, with his back to Aragorn, and Aragorn was once again presented with something he had never seen before, because surely those were the tightest buns in all Middle Earth, and when the Elf thrust himself forward against the others they tightened even more.

The third Elf did not bother to remove his leggings. He simply unlaced them and pulled himself out, and when the fourth one turned to kiss him, Aragorn made a remarkable discovery. All Elven penises seemed to share similar qualities, or at least the four in this particular clearing did. Especially qualities of length, but also the rosy hue and a decent heft that made Aragorn feel a tad inadequate, although that did not stop him from hardening instantly.

It could not have been easy, Aragorn thought, to do all that and not fall to the ground. But the Elves remained upright while they writhed against each other. They rotated, so a different Elf was in the center and being rubbed and kissed and… oh. My. The third one, the only one Aragorn recognized because he still had his leggings on, although they now were shoved down around his knees, was behind the one in the middle, and the other two were lifting the middle one while spreading his legs. They supported him and the semi-clad Elf tilted his hips, and they eased the middle Elf down on …

Aragorn felt a little weak in the knees. That had to hurt. He considered himself a fairly tough individual, hardened by decades of living in the wild, but something of that size going into a hole that could not be all that different from the one Aragorn possessed – that was too much. The Elf did not seem hurt at all, though. He had his head thrown back and was chanting something in Sindarin that sounded a lot like the word for "more", although it could have been "faster".

"Is this really proper behavior for someone who is supposedly happily betrothed? Lurking in the shadows and peeping at cavorting Wood Elves?"

Aragorn froze.

"Or have you finally given up on Arwen?"

Aragorn turned, slowly, to look into the sparkling blue eyes of Thanduil's son. "Legolas, mae govannen. I heard a noise and came to investigate. I assure you, my observation of your compatriots in no way jeopardizes my bond with my beloved."

Legolas smirked. It had been many years, and Aragorn remained true. He had heard of Elves lasting a century, sometimes two, in their pursuit of Arwen. But they always gave up. This man was persistent. Strong. Dedicated.

The sexual frustration must be what caused those deep lines in his face. That and the fact that he was one of the Edain, which also meant that, as blessed as he was with a long life, he would still someday be forced to give up his quest for Middle Earth's most desirable female for the sheer reason of mortality.

"You could join them. They would not be averse to the variety." An amused gaze meandered down Aragorn's worn clothes, settling on the noticeable bulge beneath the ragged shirt.

Aragorn stared at Legolas for a moment, unsure if he was serious. "Never," he said, "I am true to the one I love."

Legolas sighed. Aragorn was ridiculously dedicated. And obviously unwilling to acknowledge the simple fact that the Evenstar did not put out.

Ah well, who was he to judge. Actually, Aragorn's refusal to indulge gave Legolas a new respect for him. "It is just as well. One more body on that pile and it would fall over. That would not be a wise idea in this part of the wood. There are… perils."

Aragorn looked down and saw the severed leg of a spider, bristling with razor sharp hairs, lying at his feet. "Ah," he observed, "they have just cleared the area."

Legolas nodded. "This is a celebration of that fact, I would assume. I was not present when the clearing took place. I merely happened upon this, much as you have." Legolas glanced back at the writhing bodies in the clearing. "Lovely," he murmured, then looked back at the Ranger. "And just what are you doing here, if I may ask?"

Aragorn tore his eyes from the four naked elves with no small amount of reluctance. "Oh. Hm. Yes, I was sent by Gandalf."

Blue eyes flashed, and blond hair flew through the air as Legolas searched the clearing, whipping his head back and forth, fast as lightning. "Gandalf!" he exclaimed. "Where?"

Aragorn did not understand why Legolas was so agitated all of a sudden. "He is not here. I am to meet him at your father's court."

Legolas looked crestfallen.

Aragorn remembered why he was there. "I have some… thing to deliver to him. Let me show you."

He led Legolas through the forest to where he had been in when he first heard the Elves at their celebration. There, at the foot of a tree, wrapped in many layers of sacking and rope, was a pathetic creature with huge eyes, which stared up at the Ranger and the Elf dolefully.

Legolas could not control the expression of distaste that marred his fine features when he caught the scent of the creature. "What is it?"

"It is Gollum. Gandalf wants him."

Legolas looked aghast. "Surely, not!"

Aragorn shrugged. "He wishes to interrogate Gollum. The little one may know something of the movements of the enemy."

Legolas looked dubious. "Really?" He perked up. "So, you will be meeting Gandalf where? And when?"

"Any day now," Aragorn answered, and hauled Gollum to his feet. "Would you like to walk with us to your father's halls?"

Legolas supposed he might as well. Their destination brought them back past the clearing, which rang out with the cries of all four Elves in the throes of passion. Legolas glanced at them and shook his head. "Ale. It is so predictable."

Aragorn gaped at the sight of four Elves, all remaining upright and all with some part or parts of their bodies inside an orifice of one or more of the other Elves.

"Oh yes, precious," Gollum hissed. "Nasty Elves and their nasssty ways."

Legolas kicked him discreetly. "What would you know of such things?"

Gollum leered at him. "We have eyes, we see everything, Elf."

Legolas frowned. "Well, in that case, we shall have to find you a nice, deep dungeon in which you will not be disturbed by the private activities of Elves."

Gollum whimpered.

"So, Legolas," Aragorn said, making polite conversation, "you do not indulge in that sort of celebration?"

"Of course I do, when I am on patrol. I might have joined, but this is more important. I must escort you to Gandalf." Legolas reached up to smooth his hair.

Gollum snickered, and Legolas felt the need to kick him once more, with a little more force. He did not know what Gollum thought he knew, but he was sure the creature had deserved the blow, nonetheless.

Aragorn eyed his friend. "You could join in, you know. Gandalf is not due for another few days. I could stand guard." Aragorn watched a dark eyebrow arch suggestively.

"You would enjoy watching over such a spectacle, I am sure… but I think not. You, however, could take a moment…" Legolas gestured toward the moaning Elves.

Aragorn shook his head. "No, I am true to my love in all my deeds."

"If not… entirely in your thoughts," Legolas smiled. "But only when Elves and ale are involved."

Aragorn shrugged. One would have to be a dead not to be aroused by the sight of the Elven orgy.

Legolas paused in his story telling. "Of course, I have embellished to some extent, for the sake of the tale. I know not what Aragorn's true thoughts were at all times, but I am certain my version is very close to accurate."

Gimli shook his head. "Amazing, that he would give up an opportunity like that for the sake of his love for the Lady Arwen. But what of you, my dear Elf? I have seen your beautiful form in action, and have had ample demonstration of both your talents and your appetite. Why did you not indulge?"

"I had not had any ale, my dear Dwarf. Besides which, we had to deliver the creature Gollum. We could not afford to linger. I did not want to miss Gandalf."

Gimli waggled his bushy eyebrows. "And you have yet to tell me that story."

Legolas tried to look innocent. "Why, there is no story to tell."

"Right. That would be why wizards are lovely, then, eh?"

Legolas shrugged and sighed elegantly. "Why must you always insist on these details when I tell a story, Gimli? You wanted to know about the depth of Aragorn's love for Arwen, not about wizards and why they are… lovely."

Gimli grinned at his friend. "Alright, have it your way. You've made the point admirably, at any rate. Aragorn is devoted to his lady, and that is all the more reason for us to follow him wherever he may choose to go in this battle. The sooner that ring gets to Mordor, the sooner he'll have his lass."

Legolas nodded. "Agreed. Now we must retire. We will set out early in the morning and must be well rested. Our way will not be easy." Legolas rose and walked toward the small tent he and the Dwarf had been assigned for the night.

Gimli thought about all Legolas had told him as he watched the long, limber legs stride toward the tent. Lovely long legs they were, he thought, and very flexible. He admired the firm thighs and powerful arse muscles. Legolas had erred in at least one aspect of his storytelling, for Gimli was sure that *those* were the tightest buns in Middle-Earth. He thought about how much he enjoyed the smooth skin, and the little goose bumps he raised on it when he rubbed across it in a particular manner with his beard. He got up and walked across the clearing to a group of Rohirrim sitting by a campfire.

"Good evening, gentlemen. You wouldn't happen to know where I could lay my hands on some hearty Rohan ale, would you?"

*****

THE END

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