A Play for Attention

By Haruka

(haruka@eastlink.ca)

a LOTR fic

*Author's Note* This fic contains both m/m relationships and spanking. Do not read if either of these things bother you. Not necessarily canon.



A Play for Attention
By Haruka

I want him to notice me.

That was the thought that began my folly, innocent though it was.

Aragorn and I were long-time friends already, which was why I felt so compelled to defend him to Boromir at Elrond's council meeting. I was afraid I may have embarrassed him then, but nothing more was said about it. Aragorn was gracious that way, and although I should have been grateful that he spared me a deservedly sharp tongue, it would have afforded me a few precious moments of his undivided attention. I so much wanted to be more than mere companions, but did not know how to approach him about it, or even if I should. We were to be part of the Fellowship, and our task would require all the skill we possessed. It seemed selfish to bring up the matter of a personal relationship when our very world hung in the balance.

Our journey to Mordor promised to be long and perilous, but was not without its moments of rest when we could all get to know one another better. Although I usually spent that time on self-imposed guard duty, I enjoyed the antics of the mischievous Hobbits, Merry and Pippin. It became apparent early on that the pair loved to play pranks, much to the dismay of Aragorn, Boromir, and Gandalf. I knew not exactly why Gimli and I were spared their tricks, but I did not mind -- being an observer was preferable to being a victim! I know that Gimli shared my pleasure at our good fortune but there was one thing he did not share nor even realize.

I was envious of the Hobbits and the individual attention they received from Aragorn every time they playfully tormented him.

There had been the time they changed the sweet berries for bitter, or when Merry was to douse the fire and deliberately doused Boromir at the same time, or when Pippin pretended to drop Gandalf's staff over a cliff when it actually lay on a ledge within easy reach. In Aragorn's case, the pranks mostly involved his weapons, because he valued them so. I had been hard-pressed not to laugh when Aragron drew his 'sword' from its scabbard and found instead Pippin's short dagger. The look on his handsome face had been comical until he went hunting down the Hobbit responsible. Our mission was important, Aragorn would scold, and although he would not deny us some levity, he forbade further playing around with the weapons -- his or anyone's, including Gandalf's staff. Attack could come at any time, from any side, and we could not take chances.

I knew this to be true, but it did not mean I could not make a small bid for Aragorn's attention myself without involving weapons. Even if he scolded me, I would have him focusing fully on me for a scant few minutes. Perhaps he would even laugh.

However, I did not possess the mischievous mind of a Hobbit and was hard-pressed to think of an appropriate but harmless prank -- until the opportunity presented itself openly.

Aragorn and Boromir had been engaging in some intensive sword-practice. Their duel was a thing of beauty, both Men were so skilled and experienced. I watched while appearing not to -- keeping one ear to the trees -- and marveled at their prowess as they dodged and danced, mindful not to inflict injury but giving each other a vigorous workout. I will confess, although Boromir was an excellent swordsman and a worthy, challenging opponent, I could scarcely tear my eyes from Aragorn's strong frame and masterful command of his weapon.

When at last both men called draw, Boromir suggested they go clean up in the river. They looked to me and I knew what they were asking.

"It is safe," I reassured them, and it was true. Despite being intent on catching every moment of their practice, I had not let my guard down for a second.

They did not question my Elf eyes or ears and headed for the river without further delay.

"T'is quiet for miles, " I said casually to the others. "I will take a stroll through the woods -- I will not wander far."

Gimli grunted something like a reply. It was not an unusual occurrence for an Elf to want to spend time enjoying nature. And yet Gandalf gave me a strangely knowing look as I left camp.

Silently as only an Elf can, I made my way through the trees toward the river. I could hear the two Men long before I reached the area. I stayed amongst the trees, not wanting to be seen. And yet I could see them perfectly.

The vision of Aragorn naked and wet in the river drew a gasp from me that any Elf would hear over the sound of the water. Fortunately, although he was raised by them, Aragorn was not an Elf.

I studied his physique openly, my gaze traveling along every lean, hard line, pausing to admire once in a while, committing his male perfection to memory. I longed to join him in the river, to press my slick body against his, to see desire in his eyes.

The spell was broken when Boromir splashed him and Aragorn answered in kind. The sound of his laughter made my heart glad.

Sunlight glinted off something on the shore and I realized it was Boromir's shield. Both their weapons and their clothes had been abandoned there.

That was when I realized that sometimes opportunities are presented to us that we should not ignore.

I assessed our surroundings -- still no threat of an attack anywhere in the vicinity. And the two Men were preoccupied with their water battle. Swiftly I fell upon their belongings and gathered them in my arms, disappearing back into the trees with all of it.

I knew that the cold of the river would force the Men out soon, so I had to make haste. I brought their belongings nearly all the way back to camp, but paused to hide them inside a hollow log. There! I thought. A prank worthy of Hobbits!

Apparently, that's what Aragorn and Boromir thought as well. The first shout was indiscernible, but the second was clear enough.

"I'll wring their scrawny necks!"

Quickly I hurried back to camp. Gandalf glanced at me. "You are flushed, Legolas. Is everything all right?"

"To be sure," I answered with a smile that I hoped was innocent.

"WHERE are they?!" Boromir strode into camp, completely naked and dripping wet. Aragorn followed in the same state. I meant not to stare at him, but it was so hard ….

Gimli started to laugh heartily, as did Merry and Pippin. Even Frodo and Sam chuckled. Gandalf eyed the Men curiously. "Did you lose something?"

"We lost _everything_," Aragorn said dryly as he went to his pack for more clothing and dressed hastily. "Not only our clothing, but our weapons."

Gimli stopped laughing immediately. So did the Hobbits, when they saw the way Aragorn was looking at them. Boromir had finished dressing and also had his eyes on Merry and Pippin.

"What?" Merry said, searching their faces. "Y-you don't think that _we_ --"

"Do not try to deny it!" Aragorn warned. "You have been playing pranks such as this ever since we left Rivendell!" He strode over to them and grabbed Pippin by the arm. "You knew what would happen if you did this again."

"But we didn't do it!" Pippin protested. "We really didn't!"

Aragorn brought the protesting Hobbit over to the rock he'd been sitting on earlier. He seated himself again and pulled Pippin over his lap. Boromir had caught Merry and appeared to have similar intentions.

This was not what I intended at all! "Aragorn, Boromir, stop!" I cried. "They speak the truth!"

Aragorn had stripped Pippin's backside bare and his hand was raised to descend upon it, but he paused to frown at me. "Legolas, I understand why you might want to protect them, but -- "

"Aragorn," Gandalf interrupted patiently, "the Hobbits never left the campsite. They could not have done it."

Aragorn looked from Gandalf to Boromir, who was as confused as he was. Merry grabbed the opportunity to pull free from Boromir and ran over to rescue Pippin from across Aragorn's knees. Pippin dressed himself, shooting Aragorn an affronted look. "I expect a full apology!"

"I am sorry that you have been guilty so many times before that I felt your guilt in this instance was a foregone conclusion." Aragorn told him, then amended himself, "Truly, I am sorry."

"And I," Boromir added.

"The question is," Gimli said casually, "if the Hobbits did not do it, who did?" His gaze pinned me and I suddenly wanted to use him for target practice. He had obviously figured it out and was prepared to sit back and enjoy the results, which I was just beginning to realize might be more than I had expected.

At Gimli's words and very direct look, my companions in the Fellowship slowly began to follow his gaze to alight on me. Aragorn was the last, and his expression was more than skeptical.

"Gimli, I realize dwarves and elves have never been the best of friends, but to accuse Legolas -- "

"Aragorn," Gandalf said, "Legolas is the only one who left camp when you and Boromir did."

The two Men now looked at me with a new expression. Utter shock.

"Legolas?" Boromir said in disbelief. "YOU did this?"

I licked my lips in a very uncharacteristic nervous gesture. My innocent prank seemed so foolish now. "Aye," I replied.

"I don't believe it," Sam said quietly, and Frodo shook his head to indicate he did not either. I faced the other Hobbits.

"Meriadoc, Peregrin," I said, "I beg your forgiveness. I did not think that you would be unjustly blamed for my jest -- "

"Jest?" Boromir exploded suddenly, startling me. "Is that what you call it when you steal a warrior's weapons?! You are nearly three thousand years old, Legolas! How long does it take an Elf to grow up?!"

I flushed, as that remark had cut deeply. As the youngest of four brothers, it sometimes seemed as if I would never be _allowed_ to grow up. This trip away from home with the Fellowship, on a mission to save the world, was the first time I was respected on my own terms, not for being King Thranduil's son or the youngest Prince of Mirkwood.

"Legolas is still very young for an Elf, Boromir," Gimli pointed out in my defense, a kind gesture on his part. "He can be forgiven a harmless prank."

"That is exactly Boromir's point, Gimli," Aragorn said, his blue eyes focused on me as he began walking in my direction. "The prank was not harmless. If we were to be attacked at this moment, Boromir and I would be weaponless." He stopped in front of me. We were almost of a match in height, so those smoldering orbs bore directly into mine as he switched over to our Elvish tongue, "I expected better of you."

Tears stung behind my eyes but I refused to let them see daylight. This was not what I had wanted. I desired his attention, but not at the expense of losing his respect. "I apologize, Aragorn," I said. "And to you as well, Boromir. But surely you know that I would not do such a thing without first making sure that all was safe and no attack was imminent?"

"Now he makes excuses," Boromir sneered.

Aragorn held up his hand to quiet him. "Nay, Boromir. Legolas speaks the truth about that -- he is too skilled a warrior and in the ways of his people not to scout for Orcs first." He gave me a stern look that might have cowered me if not for my proud Elven blood. "But that does not excuse his actions. Aside from our embarrassment, which is of little consequence, messing with the weapons was forbidden."

"I did not 'mess' with them, Aragorn," I said. "I hid them not far from here. I will fetch them and all will be well." I turned to go do exactly that but was stopped by a firm hand on my bicep. I turned to face Aragorn, startled.

"For all to be well, Legolas, you will first have to learn a well- deserved lesson about disobeying orders and endangering yourcomrades."

"But you admitted I would have checked --!" I protested.

"Aye, I know you did," he said, "but by stealing the weapons after being ordered against it, you set a bad example for the Hobbits, who are hard enough to teach as it is."

"Hey!" Merry and Pippin exclaimed.

"If they followed your example and once again took the weapons," Aragorn continued, "we might be caught off-guard."

I almost retorted that an Elf was _never_ caught off-guard, but it would have been proven a lie at his next words.

"I say you should be punished exactly as I was going to punish Pippin," he said frankly. The Hobbits all gasped as one, Gimli raised both eyebrows high under his helmet, Gandalf calmly lit a fresh pipe, amusement twinkling in his eyes. Boromir did a double- take, then nodded, his expression stern. As for me, I met this news with customary High-Born Elven dignity.

"You son of an Orc!" I exclaimed then hooked my foot around his ankle and shoved him. He fell and I ran into the woods.

"I'll get him!" Boromir declared.

"Nay, he is MINE!" I heard Aragorn state and then came the unmistakable sounds of pursuit.

While I had long yearned to hear those words from Aragorn, never had I expected him to get this angry, nor that he would completely lose all sense of reason. The very idea of spanking me in the same fashion as the Hobbits! Imagine Aragorn forcing me over strong thighs, stripping down my leggings, punishing my bare backside with his firm hand until I wept --

Gods, why was I running?

Oh yes, that damnable Elf pride. I could not allow him to humiliate me so.

At least not without making him work for it. After all, the longer I stayed out of reach, the longer I would have his attention. I put on a burst of speed.

Although none can navigate the uncertain terrain of the forest like an Elf, Aragorn was better at it than most Men, and keeping ahead of him was a challenge. I weaved in and out of the trees, leaping over logs and ducking under branches without slowing down. I could hear Aragorn close behind me and I laughed.

Aragorn took that as if I had been laughing _at_ him and yelled at me in Elvish, "Legolas, when I catch you I am going to punish your bare bottom until you beg for mercy!"

"Your arm will fall from your body before you hear me begging, arrogant Man!" I called back. I was goading him now, deliberately. It was fun.

"You dare call _me_ arrogant after a remark like that?" he said with a laugh of his own. "I think this spanking has been too long in coming for you!"

Having your undivided attention like this was certainly overdue, I thought, but did not give voice. I needed to concentrate on where I was going.

Of course it could not last. I dared not take our merry chase too far from camp, and actually doubled-back to make sure of it by leaping up to grab a tree branch, flipping over it, then landing behind Aragorn. He tried to turn too quickly and stumbled. I took the advantage and charged back toward camp.

All four Hobbits were on their feet staring into the trees when I saw camp again in the distance. It was a couple more minutes before I was close enough to be spotted by them.

"Here comes Legolas!" Pippin announced. "But he's alone!"

I was? Had I gotten that far ahead of Aragorn? Had he hurt himself when he stumbled? I muttered an Elvish curse and stopped running, spinning around to go back for him. I gasped -- he was standing directly behind me!

"Oh, _there_ he is," Pippin said innocently. I wondered how much of that truly was innocence and how much was revenge for nearly getting him spanked.

Aragorn advanced on me and I darted across the campsite until the rock he had been sitting on earlier was between us. "Aragorn, pray be reasonable!" I said.

"I think punishment for what you did is very reasonable," Aragorn replied as he approached the rock. He started to go around it, and I countered by circling it myself, keeping it between us at all times. He changed direction and so did I. A few dance moves later and Aragorn looked fit to kill.

Suddenly I felt two strong hands encircle me, binding my arms to my sides. I had forgotten about Boromir.

"I know you claimed him, Aragorn, but I owe him this much for what he did to me."

"Agreed, and you have my gratitude." Aragorn came up to me and took a firm hold of my wrist.

"This is unfair!" I protested. "You have teamed up against me!"

"Your prank was played on both of us," Aragorn said. "That makes Boromir's capture of you entirely fair." He gave my wrist a jerk, pulling me abruptly forward so that we were practically nose-to- nose. "But fear not, my Greenleaf," he said. "This next part of the game is mine alone to fulfill."

Boromir provided one more service by seeing to the removal of my weapons from my back. Then Aragorn yanked me over to the rock.

I was afraid and embarrassed knowing that this was about to happen in front of all my comrades, but there was another feeling that shamed me -- anticipation. Within moments Aragorn would touch my bare flesh. Although it would not be within the act of lovemaking that I so desired, it was contact nonetheless.

Aragorn seated himself on the rock and pulled me face-down over his lap. By the Gods, I can not properly describe the rush of emotions and reactions I experienced just from that simple act. My hair fell forward, hiding both my face and my view of my surroundings. Not being able to see anything but my own hair and the dirt below me forced me to focus only on what was happening to me. As if I could think of anything else.

As angry as he was, I expected Aragorn to tear my leggings from me, but he did not. His touch suddenly became gentle as he took hold of the waistband and slowly peeled them down. I felt cool air against my skin, emphasizing my nakedness. Heat flooded my face and began to center between my legs as well. It was humiliating but I almost didn't care about the observers. All that mattered was that Aragorn was seeing me naked. I wondered if he enjoyed it.

I would like to say that he lay a reverent hand on my bottom for a moment before he began my punishment but instead he launched directly into it and I felt the first stinging swat upon my person. I do not think I was the only one who gasped at its impact. Then came the second right on top of it and I began to see how a prolonged session of this could become excruciating, and not just for my backside. The third blow proved it as my manhood grew hard against his leg.

I was determined not to make any outcry during this, but it was difficult. Every time Aragorn's skin made contact with mine I wanted to moan with pleasure. But as the spanking continued with no decrease in force nor frequency, those sounds of enjoyment were more likely to become groans of pain. Or pleas for mercy.

"Tell me, Legolas," *WHACK!* "why are you receiving this punishment?"

"Because you have no sense of humour -- OW!"

"Try again." *WHACK!*

"OUCH! B-Because I hid your weapons and if we were attacked you would be even less capable of defending yourself than usual -- AHH!"

"Give him an extra one for THAT remark!" Boromir directed.

"OUCH!"

"Thank you."

There was no more jesting from me after that as Aragorn got down to the business of torturing me under the guise of correction. My flesh burned and stung from the repeated impact of his calloused hand, and try as I might to stop them, tears came unbidden to my eyes. No one could see them, but they could hear them in my thick- voiced cries of agony at every blow. That private part of my body was determined to make itself known and it took all of what little remained of my pride not to gyrate against Aragorn's leg like a beast in heat. I must have made quite a spectacle by then -- my
toes touching the ground enough so that I could shift from foot to foot, kicking out with one leg or the other sharply with every blow. This action caused my hips to shift enough that I was rubbing slightly against him even though that was the very thing I was trying to avoid. My backside felt as if it were aflame and at least thrice its normal size. I had given in to pathetic sobbing so long ago it seemed as if I must always have been there, over his knee and crying like a piteous child.

I flinched, expecting another blow -- there was always another blow - - but it did not come. Aragorn rubbed my back instead, a gesture as soothing as his voice.

"Legolas, we are done," he said in Elvish. "You may rise now."

Nay, I thought. I can not, because then everyone will see how I desire you.

I felt him start and truly wanted to die. Had I said that out loud? I hoped beyond hope that I had at least said it in Elvish, so that only he and Gandalf would understand.

"Hold," he said to me, and I tried to remain still as he leaned off to one side. Once he had righted himself, I felt the silken touch of a cloak drape over me. My bottom protested at the contact, but I ignored it as I carefully rose with his help. When I stood fully and our eyes met, I tried to convey all I could in that one look -- my gratitude at his consideration, my shame for burdening him with the knowledge of my feelings and all the love in my heart that lingered still. His expression was unreadable. He lowered his gaze to the clasp of the cloak and fastened it for me. "Dress yourself," he said in English, "then you will bring me to where you hid the weapons."

I nodded and did as instructed. I tried to avoid looking at the others as we left camp together, but I glanced toward Gandalf at the last moment. He winked at me.

"Legolas, make haste!" Aragorn called and I did.

I moved ahead of him and led the way to where I had stashed the weapons and clothing in the hollow log. "They are in there," I said, wondering sadly if those were the last words Aragorn would ever want to hear pass my lips. I had won his attention briefly, but it was unsatisfying because it wasn't enough. I needed so much more from him and if it was unlikely to happen before, it was surely impossible now. I felt new tears burn behind my lids at the thought.

Strong hands took my shoulders and I raised my eyes just as those tears slipped down my face. Aragorn's eyes met mine once again, only this time what I saw in his expression spoke volumes. Slowly, he brought up his hand to rest against my cheek, brushing his thumb across the track of my tears.

"Why did you not say something before?" he asked, his voice coming from someplace deep and full of emotion.

"Would you have gone easier on me if you had known?" I asked quietly, still holding his gaze.

"Nay," he said, "for you deserved that spanking and you know it." He sighed and the gentle thumb next passed across my lips. "But if I _had_ known, so much might have been different. We might have had at least one night together before setting out on this quest from which we may not return."

Sentimental fool that I was, my heart sang at his words and what they truly meant. "Mirkwood Elves are comfortable expressing their love amongst the trees," I said, a very convenient statement seeing as we were presently surrounded by trees.

Aragorn smiled and it was beauteous. He drew me to him and we kissed. More tears came, my joy was overflowing.

"You will drown us both before long," he murmured, chuckling. "Come, I will give you your heart's desire -- and my own."

He took my hand and we moved further into the woods. A quick scan as we walked reassured us both that all was safe for now. I thought of Gandalf's wink and how he had somehow known that this would happen. Had Aragorn confided in him? I may never know, and it little mattered. The important thing was that my play for attention had worked better than I could have dared hope. Whether we lived or died, returned home or did not, we would do it together, in body and soul.



(2003)
I do not own any of the characters in this story.