NC-17 interspecies slash (Frodo/Aragorn), written for the LJ Hobbit Smut community's "Double Dare!" Challenge
of Minas Tirith
by Laura Mason
"I don't believe you." Merry knew how the words would affect his cousin, but this time Pip deserved it. "You're just spinning a tale, Peregrin Took, and I'm not some wet-behind-the-ears tweener who'd swallow it." Pippin was spluttering now, his face tomato red, but Merry ploughed ahead. "You've never been in the King's rooms and we both know it!"
"You... I... Did I say I'd seen it myself? I'm just telling you what I've been told, by those who'd know."
"There's no solid gold bathtub in Aragorn's suite of rooms, Pippin. Whoever told you that was just having a joke on you."
"Now who's being naive and provincial?" Pippin spat. "This isn't the Shire, Merry. He's the high king of Gondor. Why shouldn't he have the finest of everything, whatever he wants?"
That question sobered them both for a moment. Of course Aragorn should have whatever he wanted. They both knew he deserved it, and who would disagree? Certainly no one in the Fellowship, not after all he'd done for them. Merry thought the world of Aragorn.
But it didn't seem that life was fair, even when you were the king of Gondor. Elrond had arrived for the coronation with the scepter of the north kingdom, but without his beautiful daughter. Arwen had left Middle-earth, sailing West before Sauron's defeat.
Since that time, Merry and Pippin had only seen the king on formal occasions -- banquets, receptions, and other events where he was kept busy with formal duties. They'd both been relieved, actually, and used their service to the city and, in Merry's case, to Eomer, to excuse themselves from being with Aragorn and attempting to comfort him. After all, Aragorn spent lots of time with Legolas, Frodo, and Gandalf. Surely they were all giving him a sympathetic ear when he needed it.
Merry had feared that without Arwen, Aragorn would pursue Eowyn. He didn't want to see Faramir hurt -- he'd watched their love blossom and thought Boromir's brother was perfect for his White Lady. But he still feared the worst, as soon as Aragorn got over his broken heart.
Merry shook off these thoughts and replied to Pippin. "He may have the grandest rooms in the Citadel, Pippin, but what you're describing sounds like one of the rumors in the Shire about treasures buried in Bag End. And you know those were rubbish, too. Honestly, if you're not pulling my leg and you really believe this..."
"Polly wouldn't lie," Pippin insisted.
"Polly? You mean Polimara, the chamber maid -- Pippin, that night we took her to the pub she called you tall!"
"I am tall, for a hobbit," Pippin said proudly, straightening up.
"She's not a hobbit lass. She's twice your size, lengthwise and in width, too!"
"You're just jealous," Pippin said. "And you know she's been in Aragorn's rooms. She's cleaned the tub, with a special soap."
"I'm sure there are more senior servants who wait on the king," Merry insisted. "She's just a wench and you know it."
"She's very friendly!"
"So are most loose women!"
"She's not loose! I've never been invited to her rooms."
"That's because if you try to bed her you'll be smothered!"
"Well no one would let you bed them!" Pippin crowed. "While Polly and her friends have all been hinting they want to spend their nights with me."
"Meaning nights out at the pub, and then only because you pay for their ales!"
Pippin fumed, Merry stewed, but after a few moments they both calmed. Or so Merry thought.
"There's only one way to resolve this," Pippin said. "I'll go to Aragorn's rooms myself."
"What, are you going to pretend to be the maid?"
"Aragorn's my friend. I'll just go up and knock tonight."
"And say what? 'Aragorn, can I see your bathtub? Merry and I have a bet.'"
"We don't, though that's a fine idea!"
"Oh, right, a bet for something neither of us will ever know. I suppose you'll wager ten silver pennies on that!"
"I would. But I'm going to find out the truth, wait and see. I'll think of something." Pippin stewed. "Polly could let me in after dinner, before the king retires. Then I'll just confirm the tub is really gold, and that will show you!"
"Oh, you wager with me and then I'm just supposed to believe you? The only way to prove it is if we both go up there, and we both see what the tub is made out of. Which isn't going to happen. You can pull some half-baked scheme that's likely to get you tossed in the deepest dungeon in Minas Tirith, but I'm not joining in. You're on your own, Pip."
"But you said you won't believe me--" Pippin paused. "I dare you to come with me! You can't back out of a wager and a dare, Merry. I'll tell everyone back home you're a coward if you do."
Which was how, two nights later, Merry found himself following Pippin as he slipped inside the royal suite of rooms while Aragorn listened to speeches in the great dining hall far below. At least, Merry hoped Aragorn was still listening to the dignitaries from Mirkwood. From what he remembered of Rivendell, elves were fairly long-winded when peaceful times permitted it.
Polly... err, Polimara had been horrified at Pippin's request, but she'd agreed to loan him the key to the servant's entrance when he'd promised her the ten silver pennies he would collect from Merry. The unobtrusive, locked door was generally unguarded -- unlike the large double doors that led into the main rooms of the suite. Fortunately, the servant's entrance was quite far from the main sitting room, so if they were reasonably quiet the guards shouldn't hear anything suspicious, either.
But being reasonably quiet was more difficult than they'd thought.
They opened the door and handed the key back to Polimara, who quickly walked away. She needed to replace the key for the night maid to use when the king finally retired. But as soon as the door shut behind them, it was pitch black in the tiny chamber, for there was no fire on this warm summer night, and no lamps had yet been lit. Nor had they thought to carry even a candle.
So, of course, they both immediately stumbled over objects in their path. Merry thought what he'd knocked over was a table, filled with ... candles? The objects under his hands felt like wax. He had no idea what Pippin had hit, but the clamor was quite amazing.
They remained frozen, waiting to see if a guard would come rushing in. But after a minute of silence thrumming on their fear-sharpened ears, they both took deep breaths.
"Did you lock the door behind us?"
"Yes, of course."
Merry thought he was growing accustomed to the darkness. He felt around and set the table upright again, then began picking up the candles. Some were broken, though. He tried to put those at the bottom of the stack, where they mightn't be noticed for a few days. Pippin was fussing with something, too. As Merry stepped away, he smiled, pleased that neither of them had broken something made of...
"Ow!" He was in great pain as he hopped around, his left foot in his hands, and he just knew a shard of glass was in his foot. "Pippin! What did you break?"
"I didn't break anything! I just knocked into the tea service. That's all silver, nothing... well, I suppose I might have knocked one of the cups to the floor."
"The entire thing is now in my foot!" Merry hissed. "We need to get out of here right now."
"We can't! We haven't seen the tub. Anyway, if we leave now the door will be unlocked when the maid comes, and that will get someone in trouble. The idea was to wait for the maid, and sneak out behind her."
"I know the plan!" Merry said. "But my foot bleeding all over the royal chambers wasn't part of the plan, now was it?"
"Let me see your foot. We can bind it up with a bandage."
"There must be some cleaning cloths kept in here."
"You're not binding my cut with some dirty rag!" He hopped around a bit longer, but then sank to the floor, still holding his foot. "Pippin, light one of those candles, or a lamp, would you?"
"If we're going to see anything, gold tub or not, we need some light. When we hear the maid opening the door we'll douse it, and take it with us."
Pippin finally obeyed him, while Merry fumed to himself about how stubborn a Took could be despite the fact that he, Merry, always knew best and had never steered him wrong. First Pip used the light to sweep up the rest of the glass, which he wrapped in a rag and left beside the door. Then Pippin approached Merry, sank down beside him, and picked up his foot. He squinted at it critically.
"I don't see any glass in here, Merry. Oh, wait, there we are." He pulled out a small sliver, dulled with blood. "There. Now, we need to wash this off. And that's perfect, because of course the best place to find water is by the bathing room, right?"
"Unless you've ordered the servants to bring the hot water for the king's tub already, I don't see how that's the best place, Pippin."
"There must be some cold water at least, in a ewer. C'mon." He hauled Merry to his feet and put his shoulder under Merry's arm. Then he picked up the lantern, and helped Merry hop down the hallway, past what looked like a wardrobe, past closets that must hold the royal linens and towels...
"Pippin, grab us a small towel."
Pip leaned him against the wall and investigated the closets. They were high, but he spotted some smaller towels and grabbed two of them. "Oooh, look. Silver and golden embroidery, the king's crest -- think that's a hint of what's ahead, Merry?"
"That makes no sense unless you think there's a tree growing in his bathing room, Pip, and seven holes cut in the ceiling for the stars to shine through!" He was cranky, Merry knew that. His foot throbbed, he was tired of hopping, and Pippin seemed far too cheerful.
"There's treasure in Minas Tirith, just as Polly told me. And one of the wonders is in this room ahead, Meriadoc Brandybuck!"
"Hush, keep your voice down. Let's go see this marvelous treasure, then."
But the room they walked and hopped into a moment later wasn't the bathing room at all. It was a wardrobe, larger than anything Merry would have imagined, filled with clothes of all kinds. There were a dozen pairs of slippers, fine shoes for court and dancing, and a half-dozen pair of high leather boots, much finer than those worn by Strider the ranger. These were all embossed and tooled, and some were dyed in shades like green and red, no doubt to match some ceremonial armor. There were long robes, trimmed with fur and velvet. The clothes hung on hooks below shelves that appeared to be filled with dozens of hats, the ends of feathers hanging down where Merry could see them.
Fortunately, there was a small step stool in the corner. Merry pulled away from Pippin and hopped to it, sinking down gratefully.
"What are you doing, Merry?"
"Resting. Leave those towels here, and go find some water."
"But... we have to find the tub room."
"We will, but I'm not hopping through every closet and cubby in the Citadel until we stumble on it. Get me bandaged up, and then you find the tub.. er, the bathing room. Once you know where it is, you can show me the way."
"All right. I need to take the lamp, though -- will you be all right, in the dark?"
"I'll be fine. But hurry. Even Aragorn doesn't make speeches that last this long."
Pippin's grin was gone, along with the light, and Merry closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. How he'd ever been foolish enough to let Pippin's jibes -- and a silly dare -- get him in this situation he'd never know. Was he 18 again, to be involved in such mischief? But thinking about Pippin exploring the king's rooms, that excited, half-frightened look on his face again... Well, it made him smile to himself. Perhaps it was good if they both had some innocent, silly fun. There'd been plenty of serious times for all of them recently.
He rubbed at his arm absently, remembering how long it took for Pippin to regain his strength. He'd been an invalid almost as long as Frodo and Sam. It was wonderful to have Pip back to normal, even with his wild ideas and schemes, just as it was good to see Sam putting on flesh again, and see a happy glow in Frodo's face when he sat at banquets staring up at Aragorn.
Now that was an odd thought-- Merry's breath stopped. There were voices outside! He strained and heard a door slam and lock, and then heard a woman's voice.
"Carry those into the bath and be quick about it. The King likes a nice hot bath before bed, and he's not going to wait for you to be ready."
"Twelve buckets seems like too much, mistress," came a man's voice as he saw lights approaching.
"Just mind you pour them slowly and keep the cover on the tub to keep the heat in it. Both of you, hear?"
Merry held his breath as the voices and footsteps went past him without noticing the half-open door. Then he nearly shrieked aloud as something rushed through the door and closed it. Instead, he whispered, "Pip?"
"That was a close one! Aragorn must be leaving the hall." Merry heard the slight clang when Pip set down the now-extinguished lamp.
"It's time for us to leave." Merry wrapped both towels around his foot, tying them awkwardly in the darkness.
"But we haven't seen the tub. And who knows when we'll get another chance."
"We won't," he said as emphatically as possible in a whisper. "We'll count ourselves lucky to get out of here now, without any harm done. Take the lamp, Pippin. It shouldn't be found in here."
"Oh, bosh. Who'll notice it? I'll tuck it behind these endless boots." Pippin was sulky, very definitely sulky. Merry wasn't about to waste time arguing over the small things now.
"Fine. Let's go, then."
"No. Not until you admit I won the bet."
"What? Are you trying to tell me you were in the bathing room?"
"Nooo. But I'm not paying Polly ten silver pennies out of my own pocket, and I'm definitely not admitting to her that after she broke rules to let us in here, we never even made it to the right place."
"I'll pay half, just let's go!" Then Merry ducked back, pushing the door closed just as the servants went trooping past a second time.
The woman's voice was quite loud. "Hal, you reach up and light that lamp. Good. All of them, mind, don't miss any."
The hallway remained bright as they passed on, and Merry eased the door just a bit wider open as Pip joined him and they listened to the others moving away from their position. They heard the maid let the two manservants out, and sighed. Now they just had to dodge one person -- but she was keeping silent, and that would make it more difficult to avoid her. The lamp-light would no longer give away her position, either.
"We're in a fix now, Pip," Merry breathed, not taking time for recriminations. He'd come along, after all, agreeing with this crazy scheme. But the only reply was a quick kiss on his cheek, which made him smile as he looked at the lively eyes right beside him. Where Pip belonged.
He followed Pippin out the door and down the hallway, limping just a bit but still moving quickly. But he didn't recognize this wall--
"Pippin, where are you going?"
"To the bathing room, silly!" His grin was pure devilment, but all Merry could do was groan and follow him inside a vast room, painted with bright fish on blue walls. The floor was marble, veined in greys and blues, and there were lamps blazing all around, making it painfully bright.
In the center of the room was a vast tub, covered though steam escaped through the joints in the gilded wood. But it wasn't possible to see anything of the tub itself -- it sat inside a box of the same marble, and between that and the cover there wasn't any way to confirm Polimara's story.
"If we could open the lid and peek inside--"
"It's enormous. We'd make too much noise trying, Pip. Let's go. I'll stand you half the coins for your Polly."
"Fi--" His mouth remained open, his eyes widening in sick panic, and then Pippin dove for the shadowy corner behind the linen basket, and Merry went inside the bin, pulling towels down on top of himself.
Aragorn had come! He entered the bathing room in his banquet clothes and looked around critically.
"Your majesty, the bath is ready." The servant woman stood in the doorway. Merry could see everything through the woven reeds that made up his hiding place. He hoped Pip would keep his head down and not try to peek, but it wasn't likely. Why was this room so bright?
"Thank you, Elseap."
"Is there anything else, sire?"
"No, thank you. You may retire for the night, and I'd like to remain undisturbed until morning."
Aragorn remained at the door as her footsteps faded, then he entered and stripped off his clothing, dropping the fine robes in a heap at the doorway. Merry blushed but couldn't quite take his eyes off the man. Though he'd caught glimpses of him while they traveled it was very different to see him now, in this bright room, his muscles straining as he pulled the heavy wooden lid off the tub completely, instead of just folding it back as it was designed to do. Then, rather than hopping in the tub, Aragorn moved around the room extinguishing lamps, until only two burned, and the room was dim in a golden glow. Merry relaxed just a tiny bit.
Then, as Aragorn climbed inside the tub at last and sank down, the water sloshing noisily, Merry heard another voice.
"A king caught off his guard?"
But Aragorn wasn't alarmed, he laughed as Frodo walked into the room, stripping off his robe, and brazenly climbed into the tub with the king of Gondor.
Merry twisted around his neck but couldn't see Pippin. Now he hoped his cousin was seeing the same thing, because it was so unbelievable Merry needed confirmation that he wasn't dreaming. The man he'd thought heartbroken over Arwen was holding Frodo on his lap and kissing him, moaning in a way that, quite frankly, was making Merry a bit warm.
"You taste wonderful," Aragorn said, pulling away at last, and again groaning as Frodo dove in to kiss and bite at his neck. Aragorn sank lower in the tub, his head resting on the edge, and -- oh, Merry had imagined Frodo like this, his eyes dark with passion and his clever mouth busy as his hands moved lower. Aragorn's hands sank into Frodo's hair, just holding him there, his breath coming fast already, as if he wouldn't be able to wait for anything beyond these wild kisses. "Frodo, my treasure. My love!"
"Aragorn," Frodo sighed, his mouth moving lower still, to land on the broad, hairy chest. Merry thought Frodo was rubbing himself against Aragorn's body, arousing them both. Certainly a great quantity of water was sloshing out of the tub now, and Aragorn was crying out, short grunts that sounded like he was about to climax.
But then Frodo pulled away from the king, and gave an order. "I want you to wash me, Aragorn."
Merry could smell the expensive soaps, rose and clove, as Aragorn lathered them both, his hands moving on Frodo very slowly. When he washed between Frodo's legs, Frodo's head flew back, cushioned by a strong arm held ready for his reaction. Frodo bit his lips but didn't cry out, didn't make any noise except the occasional direction. "My feet. My legs." Aragorn obeyed as if he were a bath-servant, as if he were Sam. As if...
Merry squirmed, glad he could indulge the need since towels don't rustle. It had been years since he'd imagined Frodo this way, yet seeing him naked, glowing under the lamps with big hands rubbing his pale body -- oh, just as soon as they got out of here Pip was going to pay for this. It was a while since they'd pleasured each other, too -- there were lots of willing partners for them both in the city. But later tonight, Pip was going to get bent over a stool and shown just what Merry thought of them being stuck in here, forced to see this.
Aragorn lifted himself out of the tub, the water flowing down the long muscles for a moment before he stepped out. He lifted Frodo out, set him on a thick towel, and knelt beside him to carefully dry him. When he finished, he remained kneeling by the hobbit's side. Frodo put a hand on Aragorn's head, finger-combing the wet strands. He studied Aragorn for a long time, both of them still and silent.
"You may perpare me," Frodo announced, and Aragorn's head flew up, joy in his eyes.
Frodo turned and grasped the edge of the tub in both hands, his legs wide apart. Aragorn rose and for a moment Merry thought his heart would stop. But what the king sought was to the left of where Merry and Pippin cowered, and when Merry opened his eyes Aragorn was again kneeling beside Frodo, kissing his shoulder as he poured oil into his hand, and on to Frodo's backside. Frodo's head flew up, and he announced "The oil isn't warm enough."
Aragorn chuckled. "The maid lit the brazier, but we are both too impatient, my Frodo. We weren't in our bath very long tonight."
"That's as it... oh, yes, Aragorn, more. I don't want to wait, when it comes to this."
"Nor do I, love." Aragorn again kissed Frodo's shoulder, his hand twisting as a long finger glided in and out of Frodo's body. More oil, and a second finger, and soon Frodo was vibrating, shaking as if he were fevered, while Aragorn's mouth claimed his and the fingers clutching the tub turned white.
"Please!" Frodo twisted then, pushing Aragorn down onto the tiles. The man laughed, attempting to get up as Frodo climbed atop him.
"You won't even let me carry you to our bed? It's cold here."
"I feel fine," Frodo insisted, one hand holding the king's very impressive erection steady while he positioned himself over the rock-hard flesh. "I feel-- oh, Aragorn. Ohhh."
Frodo's moans of pleasure were soon drowned by the king's cries. The big body bucked and writhed, as Frodo oh-so-slowly lowered himself, and an unceasing string of words poured out of Aragorn's mouth, punctuated only by moans.
"Yes love -- oh! -- merciful -- you're tight and hot and so ready for me Frodo love -- treasure -- want you so much -- all day -- I wanted to throw you down -- on the table in the banquet hall -- take you right -- in front of them all -- tease -- Yes! Frodo!"
"I wanted you to do it," Frodo agreed, his eyes slitted and fixed on Aragorn's face. "I wanted you to rip off my clothes and spread me out, and show them all who you belong to, and who you rule each night."
"Who ... rules.. me," Aragorn gasped. "Frodo, love, more-- Arrrgh!" The scream came when Frodo shoved himself all the way down on Aragorn at last, and began to ride him. Aragorn's hands clutched Frodo's hips, helping to raise him, and Frodo slowly drove the man beneath him wild, changing tempo and letting his hands roam as he rocked on the big cock. Frodo was enjoying himself, his arousal was swollen though neither of them had touched it.
Merry was breathing hard now, his own cock hard and he rubbed at it fretfully. He was cramped, uncomfortable, wildly excited and somewhat frightened, too. Not only had they entered the king's quarters without permission, they had observed him nude, and now were witnessing this --
He wondered if others in the Fellowship knew about these nightly visits. Then he realized there had been no announcement of Frodo -- he hadn't entered past the guards. Frodo must have his own key to the servant's door, and have been watching for the maid to leave.
If they'd followed their original plan, Frodo would have seen them sneaking out...
Now Aragorn's pleas had changed, and every word was an endearment or a curse. The king of Gondor was speaking of love to Frodo, his cousin, the Ringbearer and the wild mushroom thief who'd been the scourge of Buckland when Merry was a child. And Frodo was moaning in response, his body bowed back as Aragorn thrust up and pulled him down, over and over, all his muscles straining powerfully. Merry watched, fascinated by how large Aragorn's cock looked, yet it sank into Frodo and he loved it, you could see the exquisite pleasure chase across Frodo's face with each thrust.
It made Merry want to try being with a man.
It made him jealous, that he'd never seen that look on Frodo's face because of him.
It made him think of Pippin's face when he orgasmed.
How long could these two keep it up? Merry was rubbing at himself, on the verge of exploding, and when he heard a soft whimper from behind him he knew Pippin was the same. But Aragorn seemed indefatigable, and he kept pistoning into Frodo long after Merry's seed was cooling stickily inside his breeches, and he heard Pippin's breathing stutter.
"I love you, Aragorn," Frodo growled in a husky voice. "I love you, and I'm never going to release you from your pledge. By life or death, you said..."
"Frodo!" Aragorn froze, Frodo pulled down against him, and then one big hand moved to grasp Frodo's cock and Frodo wailed like a banshee as his seed pumped out, splattering the man beneath him.
They were still and quiet for so long that Merry was resigned to spending the night in the hamper. He was wondering if they often slept like this, entwined on the cold, hard floor, and how long Frodo had been coming to Aragorn's rooms at night. Since they'd learned of Arwen's departure? Or before -- could Aragorn's love of Frodo be the reason the elf-princess had left Middle-earth?
"Merry," came a very soft whisper.
"Ssssh!" he hissed.
"They're..." Pippin began, just as Aragorn moved, snorting a bit. Frodo raised his head then, and rubbed at his man's chest with a happy smile.
"Aragorn, I'm ready to go to bed now." Frodo wiggled a bit, and Aragorn groaned.
"Are you trying to kill me, insatiable hobbit?" He sat up, holding Frodo close, and Frodo whined as the big cock slipped out of his body. "We need another bath."
"You can have them bring water in the morning. I'm not through making a mess tonight. Not yet."
Aragorn kissed the saucy smile off Frodo's face, and Merry honestly thought he was about to witness round two. Really, for a much older hobbit Frodo was as randy as a tween. And Aragorn's cock was filling as they kissed.
Why hadn't he tried seducing a guard or two? Merry jealously wondered if Pippin had, without telling him about men's recuperative powers. But maybe that was just because Aragorn was Numenorean...
The intense kiss beside the tub finally ended, Frodo laughing with swollen red lips as he was lifted and carried out of the room at last. One of the lamps flickered and went out, and still Merry waited. He could hear Pippin breathing, but not much else.
When the shouts of pleasure began in another, far-off room, they scrambled out of their hiding places at last. Pippin looked flustered, rumpled and adorable.
"Quick, Pip, it's now or never."
"Now, please. I can't stand even listening to them go at it again, not unless we can join in," Pippin whispered back, as they hurried down the hall toward the servant's door. The room they'd blundered through looked fine to a casual eye, Merry decided. And the door would be left unlocked, but no one would be punished -- Aragorn wouldn't let them, because he'd think it was Frodo, so anxious to see him... so ready to climb on him and drink from his mouth, suck at his flesh, and be breached by him...
They were out the door at last, and no one had seen them. Merry wiped his brow, which was damp but not just from their hasty escape.
"Merry!" Pippin sounded dismayed. "We forgot to look at the tub!"
"I don't give a fig for the tub, Pippin. I'll pay all ten silver pennies, as long as you come back to my room with me right now."
"Right now?" Pippin's eyes were wide, but his smile was full of devilment, as usual. Merry decided that sight was more of a treasure than silver pennies or solid gold tubs as he grabbed Pip's hand and led him away.
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