The Best Laid Plans Chapter V
The Final Installment
NC17: L/A/E/?
Author: elfprincess911@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Don’t own em, never will
Summary: Read the other chapters, and you’ll understand 
this one!

     The King of Gondor turned in his saddle to look behind 
him one last time in both longing, and slight irritation.  He 
really did not want to leave Ithilien, but business in 
Osgiliath was pressing, and he had no more time to spare.  
His companions rode in silence beside him, either too 
absorbed in their own thoughts to notice his restlessness, or 
simply ignoring it. 

     The elven prince on his white mare, rode to the left of 
the king, and did not look to either side as he passed 
through his kingdom.  The young king of Rohan, riding on 
the right, looked passively to his side.  It was as if nothing 
had happened over the last few days.  But something had 
indeed happened.  Aragorn could not keep his thoughts 
from straying back to the last few days.  All the intimate 
moments that he had shared with his two closest friends 
came to him as clearly as if he was still re-living them all.



     The summons to Osgiliath was not unexpected.  
Aragorn had known that it was coming.  Faramir had 
finished all the repairs to the city, and was eager to show it 
off to his friends.  Aragorn, as King of Gondor, would of 
course have to be present.  Legolas, and Eomer would be 
expected to attend as well.  They could not let Faramir 
down.  He had worked very hard to restore Osgiliath, and 
was preparing to celebrate the first of what would become 
an annual festival, commemorating the completion of the 
city repairs.  Aragorn knew that the upcoming week would 
be full of excitement, and activity, and yet, he could not 
find any pleasure in the thought of it at all.  He desired 
only to stay in Ithilien, and relax with his friends.  If 
relaxing was really the appropriate word for what they had 
been doing!

     “Aragorn, when did the summons say that we would be 
expected?” Eomer asked.

     “This afternoon is the opening ceremony.” Aragorn 
replied.  “I think Faramir expects us to be present for that.”

     “Do you think we will make it in time?” Eomer 
wondered aloud as he looked ahead of them at the miles 
yet to travel.


     “I know I will be there on time, waiting for the two of 
you, relaxing with my thoughts, and a fine mug of ale!” 
Legolas shouted as he spurred his horse forward, and 
disappeared into the forest ahead of his companions.  
     Without even a word, or nod to each other, Aragorn and 
Eomer urged their horses to follow, and in a storm of 
leaves, and dust, left the forest of Ithilien behind, for the 
river, and the city ahead of them.

                                        *****

     “Faramir my love, do you think they will be here in 
time?  I hope you sent the summons early enough for it to 
get to them.”  Eowen stood looking out the window of her 
husbands study toward the river and the forest road, 
straining her eyes to see some sign of the travelers.  

     “If I know them as I think I do,” Faramir said without 
looking up from his papers, “They will be here without as 
hitch.  At any rate, the festivities will start at the evening 
bell, with or without the other kings.”



     Faramir stood and walked over to the window to look 
over Eowen’s shoulder.  He shared her enthusiasm, and 
hoped that their friends would soon arrive.  He had been 
looking forward to seeing them for quite some time now.  
There was never time enough to catch up on all the news of 
the other kingdoms, and he wanted to discuss some 
important changes he had made to the city’s outer defense 
wall with Aragorn.  

     “Look! They are coming at last!” Eowen cried, as she 
pointed down toward the forest road.  “Oh see how quickly 
they are riding!  Do you think they are being pursued?”

     Faramir looked down over his wife’s shoulder in the 
direction she was pointing, and laughed.

     “No my dear, they are not being pursued.  They are 
having a race to see who can gain the city gates first.”

   “Surely they are not playing such a game as that!  Why 
that is quite childish for three such men.”

     “Two men and an elf my love.” Faramir laughed.  
“Come, let us go down to the gates and welcome our 
friends.



     Faramir and Eowen descended down through the streets 
of Osgiliath to the gates, with a throng of people in there 
wake.  Faramir found that the closer he got the to gate, the 
more uneasy and nervous he became.  He often felt that 
way in Aragorn’s presence.  He was never quite certain 
why he was moved to anxiety, unless it was because 
Aragorn was such as noble man.  Faramir sometimes felt 
that he was not as important or as brave as his friends.  
Little did he know, that they would never have thought less 
of him.

     Legolas was of course the first to win the gate, and as 
he dismounted in a cloud of dust, and shook the tangles 
from his long blonde hair, he turned and took Faramir’s 
extended hand with his customary strong grip.

     “Well met my friend!” Legolas said smiling at Faramir, 
and then nodding toward Eowen.  “I am afraid that the 
others are lagging somewhat behind me.  It seems that they 
cannot keep up with an elf on a mission.”

     “Well met indeed!” Faramir said, noticing that his own 
voice sounded soft and shaky compared to the elf’s.  


     Legolas turned his fair head to survey the crowd.  And 
Faramir was struck once more by the almost other worldly 
beauty of the elf prince.  He had not seen many fair folk 
before Legolas came to Ithilien to dwell with some of his 
people.  Faramir could never really get used to elves.  He 
was always taken aback by their grace, their musical 
voices, their perfection.  Somehow, he felt unworthy to be 
in their presence.

     Faramir’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a 
raucous at the gates.  Aragorn and Eomer had arrived in a 
cloud of dust, and Eowen had torn herself from Faramir’s 
side to welcome her brother.

     “Oh Eomer, how glad I am to see you!  It has been too 
long!”

     Eomer wrapped his strong arm’s around Eowen’s tiny 
waist and swung her about.

     “Yes little sister, it is very good to see you as well.  
You look as beautiful as always.  I take it that Faramir is 
treating you well?”

     Eomer looked up at Faramir with an inquiring glance, 
and Faramir felt as if he was under interrogation.

     “Of course he is treating me well.  He treats me like a 
queen.”  Eowen replied as she playfully punched Eomer’s 
arm.  “Much better than you ever treated me!”


     Eomer smiled and released himself from her arm’s to 
rummage in his saddle bag for the gift’s he had brought for 
her.  While she was busy watching her brother with 
anticipation, her husband made his way to the King of 
Gondor, who stood nearby stroking the nose of his horse, 
and seeming rather more like a ranger than a king.

     “Hello my friend.  Was your trip pleasant?” Faramir 
asked.

     “Oh yes, as pleasant as it could be in the company I 
keep.” Aragorn laughed.  “How are things in Osgiliath?”

     “Very well.”  Faramir replied.  “Would you care to 
walk about the city with me, and then you could see for 
yourself what has been done?  Most of the repairs were 
completed with Gimli’s help.”

     “Gimli? Is he here now?” Legolas asked excitedly.

     “Oh yes.” Faramir replied.  “You will find him about 
somewhere.  Probably with his beard deep in a mug of ale.



     Legolas looked back toward Aragorn, his golden hair 
sweeping across his shoulder as he turned, and raised his 
eyebrows inquiringly.

     “Yes, go and see if you can find him.” Aragorn said 
smiling at his friend.  “And see that he doesn’t talk you 
into another drinking contest.  If I remember correctly, you 
lost the last one.”

     “Your memory fails you....”  Legolas called back as he 
disappeared around a corner.

     Aragorn and Faramir spent the afternoon walking 
around the citadel and inspecting the repairs and new 
buildings in the city.  Aragorn was quite pleased, as he 
knew he would be.  Gimli always did good work.  Faramir 
on the other hand, was obviously nervous.

     “Faramir, is there someplace where you and I can go to 
be alone?  I think the crowds, and heat are beginning to 
wear on me.” Aragorn suggested.

     “Oh yes, we can go to my rooms.  We will be alone 
there.  Eowen and her brother are still about in the city, and 
I think that she will most likely take him to the stables to 
show him her new colts before they come back to our 
rooms.  We should be able to talk quietly for awhile.”


                                 
                                  ******

     Aragorn found that he was a little more tired than he 
had thought, as he relaxed back against the cushioned 
window seat in Faramir and Eowen’s chamber.  He was 
surprised that Faramir had not taken him to a study, or a 
sitting room.  But was pleased none the less, that he could 
rest in peace for a moment.  Faramir poured them both a 
goblet of wine, and handed one to Aragorn.

     The King of Gondor noticed that his friends hand 
trembled as he took the mug.  
    
     “Faramir my friend, you seem rather ill at ease in my 
presence.  Why is that ?  Have I caused you anxiety?” 
Aragorn asked.

     Faramir shifted uncomfortably, and turned toward the 
king.  The Steward of Gondor could not help but feel 
distressed in the presence of a man of such high honor.  
But Aragorn captured the eyes of his nervous companion, 
and would not look away.  Faramir had no choice but to 
respond to the question.



     “Aragorn my friend, you have never given me any 
reason to think you disliked me, I just can’t help but feel 
that I am in the presence of my better when you are near.”

     “Your better?”, Aragorn laughed.  “I have never 
thought of myself as anyone’s better!  At least not better 
than any of my friends, that is.”  

     Aragorn set the goblet of wine down on the broad oak 
window sill, and walked slowly across the room toward his 
anxious friend.  Keeping his eyes locked on Faramir’s, he 
smiled at the younger man, and reaching up gripped 
Faramir’s chin in his hand.

     Faramir looked like a doe caught in the line of an 
archers fire.  The King of Gondor tilted his head to one 
side to regard the steward.



     “You should never fear me, or any of my companions.  
We have traveled far, and seen much.  We have fought 
many battles, and overcome many odds.  Yes, it is true that 
we have done things that other men may call valiant, but 
that makes you no less valiant.  The defense of one’s home 
and people is just as honorable.  You lived for years in the 
shadow of Mordor, your older brother, and your father.  
Now it is time for you to stand on your own two feet, out 
in front, and not in anyone’s shadow, especially not in 
mine.  I need a steward who will walk beside me, not 
behind me.”

     Faramir felt his heart rate quicken as Aragorn’s hand 
tightened the grip it had on his chin.  Finding himself no 
longer able to hold his goblet of wine, the steward let the 
cup fall to the floor, dark red wine spilling onto the carpet. 
 Aragorn lowered his mouth to the trembling lips of his 
steward, and without warning, Faramir found himself 
tangled in the arms of the King of Gondor, as they fell 
together onto the lush thick fur spread on the floor.  
Faramir’s head struck the goblet that he had let fall from 
his hand only a moment earlier.  

     The steward was certain that this was not as it should 
be.  What would he do if Eowen were to suddenly throw 
open the door, and enter with her brother.  What could he 
say....



     All rational thought fled his mind as he felt himself 
pressed against the oak floor beneath the weight of the 
former ranger.  Their bodies entwined together, one against 
the other in a fevered hurry to both feel and be felt.  
Aragorn was agressive in his desire, and his warm wet 
mouth, still tasting of red wine, found it’s target, and the 
steward could not draw breath for the intensity of the kiss, 
and the insistent tongue that filled his mouth.  

   Faramir was finally granted breath, as Aragorn shifted 
his weight slightly to the side of the steward, and propped 
himself up on one arm to lean predator like over Faramir.  
The younger man looked up at the King of Gondor, and 
felt both shock and surprise fading, as they were replaced 
rapidly by both desire and overwhelming emotion.  
Faramir found himself reaching up toward the older man 
above him, reaching out to pull him closer, wanting to 
touch, taste, feel.  Aragorn was most obliging, and allowed 
Faramir to pull them closer together.  

     As the two lost themselves in yet another heated and 
passionate kiss, their individual hands were involved in a 
task all their own, as each tried to remove the garmets of 
the other.  Finding that this task was nearly impossible in 
their present state, Aragorn rose and knelt on the carpet, 
pulling Faramir up beside him.  Then turning to face his 
companion, the former ranger begin to loosen the ties 
holding Faramir’s tunic in place, and lifted it over the 
stewards head.  Faramir took the not so subtle hint, and 
returned the favor, his hands trembling so that he could 
barely undo the laces.  



     Once freed of their tunics, both rushed to press their 
bodies together once again, to feel skin against skin, rough 
here, smooth there, the same, and yet quite different.  
Aragorn reached down between them to softly stroke the 
growing buldge beginning to build in Faramir’s leggings.  
The young steward leaned against the king and moaned his 
pleasure against Aragorn’s ear, the sound causing an 
involuntary shiver from the king, as he felt his own desire 
awakened most ardently by that beautiful sound, and the 
warmth of Faramir’s breath against his ear.

     “Let us be rid of the rest of our clothes my friend.  
Though these fine garmets might serve us well outside of 
this room, within these walls, they are a burden and an 
obstacle to our present purpose”, Aragorn whispered.



     Faramir found his own hands moving to remove the 
remainder of clothing he wore.  He did so as quickly as 
possible, so as not to miss a chance to watch as Aragorn 
removed his own garmets.  With the kings finely muscled 
body displayed right before him, Faramir found himself 
feeling even more strongly the sense of inferiority that had 
plagued him earlier.  Aragorn was taller, and broader than 
him, as well as being obviously stronger.  The fine lines on 
the face of the king, and the numerous scars on his body 
bearing witness to the years of strife and struggle.

     ‘Why would he ever want to touch me?  I think he does 
it only because he feels pity for me.  The same pity he 
once showed my wife when it was she who loved him.  
And why would she not love him?’  Faramir found his 
thoughts most disturbing, and tried in vain to block them 
out.  If this was an act of pity, then at least it was one that 
he could fondly remember for the rest of his life.  No 
negative thoughts would mar it for him.  
     
     Faramir stood motionless, unable to hide his growing 
need, as Aragorn approached him, and taking his hand, 
pulled him back down onto the furs.  They lay together, 
skin against skin, mouth against mouth, heated desire 
against heated desire, and took from each other what was 
needed.  Faramir found his inhibitions were lost, as he 
moved his hands over the broad chest of his companion, 
tracing circles around each taunt nipple, and then raising 
his head to capture one in his mouth.  He was rewarded for 
his efforts, as the king’s capable hands slid smoothly down 
the back of the young steward, and gripped his buttocks to 
pull them even closer together as they lay side by side, 
facing each other.  



     Faramir had never before touched another male in this 
fashion.  He found that it was not unpleasant or disgusting. 
 He had always enjoyed every moment with Eowen, but of 
course this was different.  Passion by other names is still 
passion, but love....that was something altogether different.

     Just as Faramir was about to loose himself completely 
to the moment, and the ardent heat that flooded his body, 
the moment ecstacy was shattered by the sound of a door 
opening urgently, and footsteps that came quickly, then 
stopped short, and the sound of a breath taken in quite 
sharply.

     ‘Oh Gods! It’s Eowen’, Faramir thought as wild 
desperation gripped him.  He turned over to look with the 
greatest apprehension he had ever known, but was in turn 
shocked himself.

     “Somehow I thought I might find the two of you here.” 
Legolas exclaimed with a very sly smile.  He regarded the 
lovers with a coy expression as Faramir shifted wildly on 
the furs in an attempt to hide his nakedness.



     “Legolas you infernal elf!  Your timing is horrendous!  
How is it that you manage to always turn up when you are 
least expected?” Aragorn asked in exasperation.

     “Least expected, maybe, but I do not think you are sad 
to see me.  It seems that you were having some fun, and 
without me I might add.  I am somewhat jealous that you 
didn’t ask me to join you.”  Legolas smirked in a most un-
elvish fashion.

     “I don’t think you are jealous.” Aragorn replied as he 
shifted his weight, and motioned for the elf to join him and 
his companion.  

     Legolas was quick to take the hint, and was on the furs 
next to Faramir in only a moment.  The young steward felt 
as if he wanted nothing more than to run and hide at the 
moment.  He was sandwiched between two brave warriors, 
both of whom greatly intimidated him.  He could not 
breathe or move, and as he was caught in the hypnotic stare 
of the elven prince’s dark blue eye’s, he could only wait 
for whatever would come next.  
     


     Legolas moved closer, and closer.  Faramir watched the 
elf’s soft lips inching to within a breath of his own, 
wondering if this was really happening.  Was this really 
true?

     Faramir jumped in surprise when Aragorn touched him 
from behind, wrapping his strong arms around the 
stewards chest, and drawing their bodies together to 
whisper in Faramir’s ear.

     “The elf is very primal.  He know’s what he wants, and 
he is not ashamed to take it.  Do not be surprised if he is 
agressive with you.  I have seen that side of him many 
times.”

    “I do not know what you want me to do!” Faramir 
whispered breathlessly.  “I have never done anything like 
this before.”

     “Leave it to us, just try to follow, and hang on.”  
Legolas said as his warm lips brushed Faramir’s trembling 
one’s.



     ‘Hang onto what?’ It was the last rational thought that 
crossed Faramir’s mind.  He found himself at the mercy of 
the King of Gondor, and the elven Prince of Ithilien.  
Aggressive was not really the right word for the elf’s 
behavior, and Aragorn was quite gentle as they moved 
their hands over the steward’s taunt body.  Faramir’s 
mouth was covered by Aragorn’s, and the elf, who was by 
now without his garmets as well, was busying his hands 
with the stewards growing erection. 

     “Do you think we should wait for him?” Legolas asked 
tentatively as he looked over Faramir’s shoulder to 
Aragorn.

     “Wait for who?”, Faramir asked in exasperation.

     “It is of no consequence.” Aragorn replied.  “He will be 
here soon enough, and hopefully alone.”

     “Oh don’t worry about that.” Legolas confidently 
answered.  “I think your wife will take care of any 
concerns we have of being discovered by someone who 
might be hurt by this.”

     “Indeed”, was the king’s only reply.

     By this point, the steward of Gondor was certainly lost. 
 The elf lowered his fair head downward and in moments 
captured the stewards pulsing erection in his skilled mouth, 
while Aragorn used his adept mouth to trail lingering 
kisses up and down the length of Faramir’s neck.  


     “Please...I don’t...I can’t...”  Faramir trailed off as 
Aragorn’s strong hands slid down his arms, and effectively 
trapped the young stewards hands against his sides, leaving 
him immobile.

     “Just be quiet Faramir.  We know what you need, and 
soon enough, another will arrive who knows your needs as 
well.”  The king whispered.

     Then as if on cue, the door opened, and Eomer strode 
quickly into the room closing the door and locking it 
behind him.

     “It seems that some people are just too impatient to wait 
nicely for others, but have to skip right to the dessert 
before the main course is served!”  Eomer’s voice 
pretended irritation, but his brown eye’s sparkled.

     “Perhaps we simply lack your wonderful self control 
King of Rohan.”  Legolas laughed.



     “Enough talk!  We have wasted too much time with it 
already.  The steward’s wife might be able to untangle 
herself from Arwen at any time, and come looking for us.  
We don’t want her to arrive before Faramir has had a 
chance to get to know all of us better.”  Aragorn said as he 
moved to push Faramir down on the flat of his back.  

  Legolas shifted to the side, and beckoned to Eomer to 
join them on the furs.  The young king of Rohan quickly 
took the hint, and began to work on the ties of his clothing. 
 Within moments, he too was a member of the tangle of 
limbs on the floor.

     Faramir found himself at the mercy of two men and an 
elf, and for a brief moment, he wanted nothing more than 
to run screaming out of his chamber.

     ‘These people are insane!’ Faramir thought wildly.  

     But that thought fled.  He was as primal as any of them, 
and yes, he knew what he needed.  As Legolas vied for 
position, the others moved back to watch, and in time 
participate for themselves.  The elf returned his mouth to 
the stewards still pulsing member, and brought it to full 
mast.  At the same moment, Aragorn moved to lift 
Faramir’s legs up over the elf’s shoulders and slid his 
calloused hands down the stewards strong muscular legs 
gently parting them.  Eomer, who had been busy moving 
about the room gathering supplies, returned with what 
would be needed.



     Faramir was almost thankful for the blindfold that 
Eomer placed over his eyes.  He could now concentrate on 
the sensations that were taking place around him.  He 
jumped startled, as a cold slick substance was rubbed 
against his tight, and never before penetrated entrance.  He 
held his breath in both anticipation and fear as a finger, 
Eomer’s he thought, began to slowly coax the tight ring to 
loosen.  The steward relaxed his body to allow that finger 
to slowly penetrate him, and gasped in pleasent surprise 
when that same finger found a spot deep within him that 
seemed to be directly connected with his now leaking 
errection.  

     The complex sensations Faramir was feeling, were 
doubled when he felt something hot, firm, and insistent 
probing against his lips.  He did the only thing he could do, 
and opened his mouth.  He realized that it was Aragorn 
who was positioned above him, and thrusting gently into 
his mouth.  He knew that it was the elf’s sweet mouth that 
did the same to him, and he deduced that it could only be 
Eomer who’s finger, that had now been joined by two 
others, who penetrated him from below.  Faramir no 
longer cared what the scene might look like to anyone else. 
 He knew that this was what he wanted, and had longed 
for.



     Faramir become conscious suddently of the soft moans 
from above him, and realized that his efforts with the King 
of Gondor were not in vain.  The young steward had feared 
that he might gag, on not be able to please Aragorn, but his 
fears were unnecessary.  The former ranger quickened his 
pace, and his ragged breath indicated that he was close.  
His rough hands gripped the stewards head and held it firm 
at he thrust into the hot willing mouth beneath him.  
Faramir could not understand the elvish words that 
Aragorn cried out as he reached his peak, but he could 
understand their meaning.  The elf , however, lifted his 
head, and his mouth from the stewards rock hard member 
for only a moment, to answer Aragorn in the language they 
shared, then returned to his ministrations.

     Aragorn collapsed onto the furs, next to Faramir, and 
softly stroked the young stewards hair as he came down 
from his orgasm.  

     “Thank you my friend.  I have been saving that for you, 
and I hoped you would not mind the manner in which I 
delivered it to you.”  Aragorn said breathlessly.



     Faramir could not find the words, and only nodded in 
acceptance of the kings words.  He felt a warm mouth 
close over his own, and assumed it must be Aragorn’s, as 
Eomer was too far away, and Legolas’s mouth was busy 
with other matters.  Aragorn’s kiss was slow, and 
sensuous.  A sweet reward for Faramir’s efforts.

     The steward was quite close himself, but the elf was 
torturing him with little licks and nips of his teeth to 
prolong his pleasure as long as possible.  Eomer, however, 
was loosing patience.  He reached for Faramir’s hand, and 
shifting his position, placed that hand on his own 
throbbing member.

     “Faramir, I would be honored if you could manage, 
although difficult I know it will be in your present state, to 
assist me for a moment....” Eomer began.

     Aragorn broke the kiss, and sat up on the furs to watch 
the activities that continued beside him.  

     Faramir began to slid his hand tentatively along the 
pulsing length in his palm, unsure exactly what Eomer 
wanted.  He did not have to wait long for his answer, as 
Eomer moaned loudly, and began to thrust into the 
stewards hand.

     “Yes, that’s it!”  He cried.  “Just a moment more.”


     Legolas suddenly removed his mouth, and moved next 
to Aragorn, who responded by placing his hands on the 
elf’s shoulders, pushing him to the floor, and rolling him 
onto his stomach.  Aragorn watched the other men on the 
fur next to him, out of the corner of his eye, as he began to 
trail soft kisses down the elf’s back.  He pushed the archer 
prince’s long lean legs apart, and slipped between them.  
Down over the  silky pale skin of the elf’s lower back, he 
continued to slide his moist lips, dragging his whiskers 
over the soft skin to make the elf tremble with pleasure.  
Then, without warning, Aragorn gripped the elf’s firm 
buttocks, pulling them gently apart, and slid his tongue 
along the groove between them.  Legolas cried out, and 
began to writhe as Aragorn circled his tight opening, then 
pushed his tongue deep inside.  

     Meanwhile, Eomer had gotten about as much 
stimulation as he could endure for the moment, and pulled 
out of Faramir’s hand.  He took hold of the steward’s legs, 
and placed them over his broad shoulders.  Then coating 
his leaking member with more oil, he reached down, and 
slid two fingers into the steward once more, but only for a 
moment, as he moved closer, and positioned himself.



     “Is this alright my friend?” Eomer asked.  “I will try not 
to hurt you, but if you want to stop, just ask, I will not 
force you.”

     “I do want this!”  Faramir moaned, his entire body felt 
like a pulsing heart, and he could not take much more 
stimulation.

     Eomer pushed gently against the unrelenting ring of 
muscle, for only a moment, then aided by the warm oil, 
slipped to just inside the entrance.  Faramir cried out in 
pain, surprised by the new sensation. But Eomer, who had 
only recently become used to that sensation himself, 
paused a moment to let the stewards body accommodate 
him.

     “Relax my friend.  You can do this.  If I can, you can.  
There is much pleasure to be had, trust me.”  Eomer 
coaxed.



     After a moment, Eomer felt Faramir relax around him, 
and moved slowly, easing himself inside, until he was 
completely sheathed.  Then grasping the narrow hips 
beneath him, Eomer began to thrust with a steady even 
pace, trying hard not to rush, or become too rough.  He 
knew how difficult the first time could be, and he wanted 
to please Faramir as much as he could.  But Eomer found 
it difficult not to become too caught up in his own 
pleasure, as the wild moaning of the elf on the floor next to 
him was almost enough to undo him.  

     Aragorn had somehow gotten his fingers beneath the 
elf, and was stroking him to full errection as he continued 
to torment with his skilled tongue. 

     “Aragorn, please!”  Legolas cried.  “I can’t take this!”
 
     “I think you say that to me every time we are together, 
and yet you still live!”  Aragorn laughed.

     “Don’t jest!” Legolas answered frustrated.  “You think 
you tease, I truly cannot take much more of this if you 
want me to last for him.”

     ‘Last for who?’ Faramir wondered. ‘Could he mean 
me?’



     Faramir did not have long to wonder, as Eomer had 
reached the point of no return, and pulling out of the 
stewards body, stroked himself to fulfillment as his seed 
shot out over Faramir’s chest and stomach.  The King of 
Rohan collapsed breathlessly onto the body beneath him, 
as sweat mixed with semen between them.  

     “Off of him!” Aragorn said jestingly as he shoved 
Eomer to the furs.  “Let the elf have his way before he dies 
of ecstacy!”

     Eomer rolled away from Faramir, and lay quiet on the 
fur’s, recovering his breath as he watched with 
anticipation.  Legolas untangled himself from 
Aragorn, and moved to kneel astride Faramir’s hips.

     “Are the men of Gondor as easy to ride as the horses of 
Rohan?” Legolas inquired, as he positioned himself over 
Faramir’s fully erect member.

     “They are quite easy to ride!” Eomer gasped, still 
breathless from his earlier exertions.

     Legolas eased himself down slowly onto Faramir, 
adjusting his weight as needed to accommodate the 
stewards length.  Faramir did not need further 
encouragement, and gripped the elf’s narrow hips as he 
thrust upward, and completely impaled the archer prince.

     “Gently!” Legolas cried.  “I am not a woman!”


     “Perhaps, but you are surely as pretty as a woman aren’t 
you?” Aragorn teased.

     Legolas did not seem to notice, as he was easing 
himself back into elven reverie once more, and no longer 
cared for his companions appraisal of the situation.  
Faramir was in quite the same frame of mind, and allowed 
the inner beast to take over.  In one swift movement, he 
rolled over onto the elf, reversing their positions.  He 
quickly tore off the blindfold, wishing to see his prey 
better, and then pinned the elf’s hands down against the 
floor as he renewed his thrusts into the firm body of his 
companion.  

     “At last!”  Aragorn said as he smiled and applauded.  

     “Yes, I thought he was just going to remain passive the 
whole time, and let us have our way with him.”  Eomer 
remarked.

     “The time for that is past.  It is Faramir’s turn to take 
what he needs, and not feel that he must always kneel to 
others demands.”



     Faramir could barely hear the conversation around him. 
 He was close, so very close..  Being able to see the 
beautiful elf beneath him, being able to watch those 
haunting eyes go an even darker shade of blue as he too 
approached his climax, was too much for the steward.  

     Faramir threw back his head and cried out his pleasure 
to the whole room, and cared not about the witnesses 
present.  Legolas was lost in his own climax beneath the 
steward, and did not seem aware of his surrounding either. 
 Only Aragorn, and Eomer, who were both quite sated 
themselves, had their full capacities about them at that 
moment, which as it turned out, would be a very good 
thing.

     The sound of voices at the door startled them, and 
Aragorn sprang up grabbing his clothes as he did.  Eomer 
did the same, and each began to quickly dress and attempt 
to make themselves presentable.

      “Faramir my love, are you there?  It is I, Eowen.  May 
I come in?”

     “A moment please!” Eomer called.  “We are discussing 
an important strategy, and need privacy.”

     “But Arwen said you were just drinking ale and 
enjoying each others company.  Why can I not come in?”


     Eomer burst into laughter at his sister’s innocent 
remark, and turned to Aragorn who was smiling broadly.  
     “Yes, we are certainly enjoying each other’s company 
sister, but if you come in now, you may find that a woman 
would not be quite as welcome as you would like.”

     In the mean time, Aragorn pulled Faramir to his feet, 
and handed him his clothes.  Then turning back to the elf, 
gave him his hand, and assisted the fair prince to his feet.

     “Get dressed!” Aragorn hissed to them as he tried to 
assist in whatever way he could.  

     When they were all as presentable as they could be 
given the circumstances, Eomer walked over and unbarred 
the door.

     “Pretend that you are intoxicated, and she will suspect 
nothing.”  Legolas whispered to Faramir.



     As Eowen entered, and saw all three men, and one elf 
looking quite like they were in fact intoxicated, (though 
she would have not guessed what intoxicated them) she 
dropped her hands to her sides in exasperation.

     “All of you drunk! And moments before the celebration 
is to begin! How could you be so irresponsible?” She 
cried.

     “But my love, we are already celebrating.  Is that not 
what you do at a celebration?”  Faramir asked slurring his 
speech to add to the subterfuge.  

     “Really!  You are impossible!” Eowen exclaimed as she 
turned and stomped out of the room.  “I will see you at the 
grand stand if you are able to stumble there that is!”

     “We will be there my love!” Faramir called after her, as 
Eomer shut the door, and breathed a sigh of relief.

     “That was close.  I don’t like to lie to my sister, she is 
not easy to deceive.  But come, let us truly get ourselves 
into some sense of order.  She has worked very hard on 
this celebration, and we should not let her down.”



     “Yes, let us go down to the people.  We are after all the 
guests of honor.”  Aragorn said as he clapped his hand 
against the backs of each of his companions.  “We have 
enjoyed ourselves, and will do so again I’ll wager, but for 
now, let us also go and enjoy the other’s in our lives as 
well.”  

     Faramir walked out first, looking somewhat like a man 
who had just been given everything in life he had ever 
wanted.  Legolas followed after casting a sly grin over his 
shoulder toward Aragorn, who walked after him.  Eomer 
was last to leave, and turned to survey the room one last 
time, then followed swiftly after his companions, closing 
the door behind them.


FINIS