Title: Gandalf Gets Even
Author: Sandcat (sandcat12@aol.com)
Pairing(s):  Boromir/Aragorn, Pippin/Merry/Sam, Legolas/Gimli, Gandalf/Frodo
Rating: R (?)
Summary: Gandalf's had it with all the bickering among the Fellowship. He 
decides to do something about it.
Disclaimer: Wish I owned them, but I don't.  We all know who does.
Warning: Gross disregard for accuracy, plot, and general silliness.
Authors Note: This was inspired by one of the story challenges, however it does 
not actually meet the challenge so I didn't claim it.  Sorry, but I just 
couldn't write it and remain serious.  Also, this is my first foray into slash 
humor since I was in high school many moons ago, so I beg the reader's 
indulgence. 




"That's it," Gandalf muttered under his breath. "I've had enough."

Frodo gazed up at the wizard with sleepy eyes and sighed.  He had just started 
to doze off, feeling safe and secure under the blanket he shared with Sam, when 
the shouting woke him.  Sam, it seemed, could sleep through anything, especially 
after a good, hard shag.  But Frodo was disturbed and had gone off to the edge 
of camp in search of solitude, only to encounter a disgruntled Gandalf.

"Boromir and Aragorn," the hobbit said, covering his ears.  The two men were 
worse than boys, fighting over the most trivial matters, posturing at imagined 
slights, and constantly comparing themselves to one another. "Again!"

"What are they on about this time?" the wizard asked wearily.  They had a long 
day's march ahead of them tomorrow, and would need a good night's sleep.  But 
thanks to Boromir and Aragorn's constant bickering, Legolas' smug attitude, and 
the hobbit's irritating pranks, sleep had been in short supply lately.
Gandalf listened to the angry voices ringing through the forest.  

"I've had no complaints!"

"Hah! Who would admire that thin, scraggly thing! It's pathetic.  Mine's much 
thicker!"

"Size isn't everything, you great Gondorian oaf!"

"You're just jealous because mineÕs so much manlier! Wait a few years, maybe 
you'll grow a real one!"

"I've got you both beat!" Gimli's deep voice boomed. "Mine's longer and thicker! 
Better looking, too!"

"Ugh," Gandalf said, "the beard thing again. And now they've dragged the dwarf 
into it as well."

Frodo sighed.  It was a wonder they hadn't decapitated each other with their 
swords by now.  The hobbit wondered if all men were this contentious.  They'd 
run through the usual insults to family and parentage, and now it seemed that 
they had sunk to the level of disparaging each other's beards.  Secretly, Frodo 
thought Boromir's was in fact much manlier, but he would never say so to 
Aragorn.  And Boromir had other attributes that Frodo found attractive as well, 
especially his piercing green eyes and rare but dazzling smile.

"Well, what can we do about it?"  Frodo asked, shaking his head to clear the 
image of Boromir from his mind. "Those two positively hate each other.  It's 
disrupting the whole Fellowship."

The wizard let out a long sigh, then chuckled softly.  "How do we turn hate to 
love? Shouldn't be especially difficult.  They are two sides of the same coin, 
after all."

Frodo's luminous blue eyes narrowed suspiciously.  "What are you thinking?"

"You'll see,"  Gandalf said, an evil grin on his lips.  "Just wait, my dear 
Frodo, and you'll see."

Frodo started to ask another question, but the wizard leaned over and kissed him 
lightly on the lips.  Surprised, the hobbit fell silent and watched as Gandalf 
flopped onto his bedroll and made himself comfortable.  In a few moments, he was 
snoring despite the argument raging a short distance away.  Frodo stood 
shivering, rubbing his slender hands together in anticipation of the wizard's 
plan.


***

"Arrrgh!"

Boromir fell heavily into a snow drift, eliciting a loud guffaw from Aragorn.  
Gimli roared with laughter.  The hobbits giggled behind their hands, and even 
Legolas cracked a smile.  Gandalf merely stood aloof, leaning on his staff and 
watching with a glint of amusement in his clear blue eyes.

"Boromir,"  the ranger said, subduing his laughter with effort. "This is no time 
to be making snow angels.  Get your lazy ass up."

"The damn halflings tripped me!"

"Did not!"  Merry and Pippin shrieked, eyes wide in mock terror, backing away as 
the Gondorian clambered to his feet and brushed snow from his clothing.  "But if 
we're going to get blamed for something,"  Merry said, "we may as actually do 
something.  Right, Pippin?"

"Right!"  Pippin agreed.  The two exchanged a sly look, indicating that their 
tiny little brains were working in unison on some annoying plan or other.  Sure 
enough, before anyone could stop them, the hobbits ganged up on Boromir, 
knocking him down from behind and grabbing his great shield as he landed on his 
stomach with a whoosh of breath.

"You little bastards," Boromir growled, slipping again as he tried to stand.  
But as big and powerful as he was, the hobbits were too quick for him.  They 
flipped the shield over and sent it skidding down the nearest slope, watching as 
it disappeared over the edge of a cliff. 

"There," Merry said, turning cheerfully back to Boromir.  "Now you won't have 
that extra weight to carry around."

"Yes," Pippin added, "you'll be much lighter on your feet now. Anyway, you 
looked rather silly with it stuck on your back like that.  Sort of like a big, 
overgrown tortoise."

Aragorn made a disgusted sound. "We'll never cross the mountains at this rate, 
thanks to you."

"Oh, I see," Boromir said.  "Never mind that we had to spend an extra day in 
Rivendell just so you could boink that little elf tart one last time."

"I'll thank you to leave my financial, er, fiancee out of this," the ranger 
snapped.  "And I wouldn't go calling other people names if I were you.  Not 
after what I heard about you and a certain horse back in Minas Tirith."

"Enough!" Gandalf's command finally silenced them.  "Look yonder and tell me 
what you see."

Everyone looked to where the wizard was pointing.  A mass of what appeared to be 
thick black smoke was clouding the horizon.

"So?" Gimli said, scowling.  "Some fool's gone and burned the lembas."

"That's not lembas burning, you dolt," Legolas sneered. 

"Well," Boromir said, "it is moving against the wind."

"The only wind around here is coming from you," Aragorn grumbled under his 
breath.

"I heard that," Boromir said.

"Stop it, you fools," the wizard said.  "Those are Saruman's spies. I suggest we 
find some place to hide."

"Skyrats!" Sam yelled, throwing a protective arm around Frodo. 

"Cover yourselves as best you can!"  Gandalf cried, pulling his cloak up over 
his head.

But it was already too late.  A moment later they were overtaken by a huge flock 
of chattering black birds. Everyone scurried for whatever shelter they could 
find, screaming and running wildly in all directions and holding their cloaks 
over their heads as if a thunderstorm were about to break.  Indeed, a rain of 
sorts did pummel them, as a torrent of sticky white droppings poured from the 
sky, sparing no one.  Gandalf cursed as he thought of Saruman, sitting in his 
ridiculously phallic tower, staring into his palantir and laughing hysterically 
at the sight of the Fellowship racing around like so many decapitated chickens. 
Gandalf hoped the old fart laughed hard enough to wet himself.

Cursing the loss of his shield, Boromir found relative safety under a rocky 
ledge.  A second later Aragorn arrived, only to feel Boromir's boot connect with 
his head as the Gondorian selfishly attempted to hog the narrow shelter. 

"I'm your king, dammit," Aragorn cried. "How dare you!"

"You don't look like any king I ever saw," Boromir countered. "Besides, I donÕt 
think kings go about covered in bird shit."

Not far away, Gimli and Legolas found themselves thrown together under a ledge 
just high enough for the tall elf to remain upright. Legolas sniffed delicately, 
testing the air.

"I took a bath last month," Gimli said proudly.

"I can tell," Legolas replied, holding his nose.

"You know, you're kind of cute with all that bird crap running down your face," 
the dwarf said, then burst into raucous laughter.

Merry, Sam, and Pippin, left no other option, huddled together under the 
combined protection of their cloaks, which they formed into a kind of makeshift 
tent.

"Where's Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked, upset that his beloved master wasn't with him.

"Don't you ever think about anything but your Mr. Frodo?" Merry demanded.  "It's 
always Mr. Frodo this and Mr. Frodo that.  Well, we're sick of it."

"Mention him to us again," Pippin chimed in, "and Boromir's shield won't be the 
only thing to go over over a cliff today!"

"Yeah, how about you pay some attention to us for a change?"

Sam looked at them, eyes wide in disbelief.  He didn't know that in the 
confusion, Frodo had collided with Gandalf, sending them both sprawling on the 
snow and sliding downhill a short distance from the others.  They had come to a 
halt, shaken but otherwise unharmed, in a little grove of stunted pine trees.

"He, he, he," the wizard cackled. "I think it's beginning to work."

Frodo turned questioning eyes on Gandalf, wondering if the old geezer had banged 
his head on something.

"The spell I cast this morning," he said, seeing Frodo's doubtful look.  "All 
right, so it took longer to work than I thought it would.  Lovey dovey stuff 
isn't my strong suit."

"You cast a love spell on the Fellowship!" the hobbit squeaked in delight.  
Still, he was slightly disappointed, having expected something grander from the 
wizard.  "Isn't that a bit beneath you, Gandalf?"

"Well, yes," he admitted slowly.  "But the best way to dispel hostility, don't 
you think?  Now, are those damn birds gone yet? I want to see how things are 
progressing."

"Things are not well between us," Aragorn was saying.  He had finally managed to 
squeeze under the rock alongside Boromir.

"Well, duh," Boromir said, shaking his head.  "You could always resolve the 
problem by finding the nearest group of orcs and promptly getting yourself 
killed."

"And leave the throne of Gondor in your care?  Hah!  You'd run the place into 
the ground in a week."

"And you'd run it better, I suppose," the other man scoffed.  "You, who"s been 
prancing around in the woods with elves all his life? I don't think so."

The two men glared at each other, so close their noses were almost touching.

"It seems we are at an impasse," Aragorn said, deciding to do the kingly bit and 
attempt to smooth things out.  Not to mention that he was perilously close to 
the edge of the overhang, and could be easily pushed out.

"Rather tight quarters in here," Boromir agreed.

"That's not exactly what I meant."

"Oh. What did you mean, then?"

"Forget it," Aragorn sighed.

"All right. Are the birds gone?"

"Dunno.  Do you care?  I was just beginning to like it, being all snuggled up 
like this."

"Kind of cozy," Boromir murmured. 

The two men lay eye to eye for a long moment, neither daring to speak and risk 
shattering the fragile peace between them.

"You know," Aragorn said at last, "I kind of enjoy our verbal sparring."

To his surprise, Boromir flashed a smile.  "Me too. And our sword fights, as 
well."  His green eyes narrowed, giving him a rather devious look. "Especially 
since I always come out on top."

"Ha," Aragorn snorted, "that's certainly up for debate."

"No it isn't. Allow me to demonstrate."

Suddenly Aragorn felt the other man's hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the 
ground.  "Oofah," he wheezed as Boromir heaved himself on top of him.  Boromir 
grinned evilly, relishing his superior position.

"You may be king someday, ranger," he said, "but right now you're just a skinny 
little twerp from Rivendell whose ass I can kick any time I want."

"Ahhh... aaah," Aragorn gasped.  He was Isildur's heir, true, but he would never 
sire an heir of his own if the damn Gondorian didn't stop crushing the family 
jewels.  And yet, at the same time he found himself incredibly aroused by the 
close, if painful, contact.  This was not lost on Boromir, whose evil grin 
widened into a gleeful smile.

"Am I hurting you, dear?  Sorry.  Let Uncle Boromir see what he can do to take 
away the pain."

He lifted his heavy, muscular body enough to allow Aragorn a few quick gasps, 
then clamped his lips hungrily down on the ranger's. Tongues thrust like swords, 
each man seeking to dominate the other.  Hands groped, squeezed, stroked, and 
pulled at clothing until they were both naked as the day they were born.

"I have a sword that needs sheathing," Boromir said, rolling Aragorn onto his 
stomach, firmly holding him down and ignoring his cries of "I'm going to be 
king, I should be on top!" 

Meanwhile, not far away...

"Do you hear that?" Gimli snickered.

"Unfortunately," Legolas sighed, looking bored and playing with a strand of his 
long golden hair.  His hearing was far superior to that of man or dwarf.  
"Sounds as though Boromir is getting the better of Aragorn."

Gimli chortled and rubbed his meaty hands together.  "Are you as turned on as I 
am?"

Legolas looked down at the dwarf with lazy blue eyes and smiled faintly.  
Yawning, and said, "I believe I am."

"Well, you silly elf, what are you waiting for?  I know you want me."

Legolas shrugged and bent down to kiss the dwarf, but not quickly enough for 
Gimli.  The dwarf grabbed him and tossed him to the ground, throwing himself on 
top of the writhing elf.  Much to Gimli's delight, Legolas giggled like a girl 
the whole time, yelling out in a most un-elflike manner at the critical moment.

Beneath their cloaks, the three hobbits had also found something to pass the 
time.  Merry and Pippin quickly determined that by working together they could 
maneuver Sam any way they wanted.  He was, they discovered, even more innocent 
and unsuspecting than Frodo, something they hadn't thought possible.  It wasn't 
long before they too were naked and had Sam pressed securely between them.

"What are you two doing?" Sam gasped, as Merry grabbed his balls while Pippin 
licked his finger and inserted it into Sam's behind.

The two looked at each other, eyes glittering with lust, and shouted, "Making a 
Sam-wich!"

"Oh," Sam said, finally getting the picture. "Oooohhh..."

Down the hill a way, Frodo and Gandalf stood listening to all of this, smiling 
at each other as if they shared some deep, dark secret.  Which, Frodo supposed, 
they did.

"I've got to hand it to you, Gandalf," he said admiringly. "You found the 
perfect way to put an end to their differences."

"Make love not war, I always say," the wizard chirped, blue eyes sliding 
sideways to give the hobbit an appraising look.  "But that's not the only reason 
I cast the spell."

"Really?"  Frodo's eyes were misty as they returned Gandalf's gaze. "Why else, 
then?"

"Well," Gandalf said, smiling broadly, "how else was I going to get you away 
from Sam long enough for us to have some fun, eh?"

Frodo smiled, throwing himself into the open arms of the wizard.

"Gandalf, I thought you'd never ask." 



The End