It had been fabulous. Arwen had looked lovely... Lying in his kingly bed, Aragorn reflected on the wedding ceremony. Arwen had looked so pretty and delicate in that dress and the thingies in her hair were top notch. But what, in Morgoth's name, WAS up with that paper flag thing she had been holding in front of her face?? That just didn't make sense. Aragorn had turned that one over in his head for hours now. Was it protecting her from the sun? No, that wasn't it. Maybe it was some kind of modesty thing. Or maybe she just liked hiding behind semi-transparent stuff. That was probably it. She was an elf, and Aragorn figured that had to account for the weird shit she did. Like putting butter AND peanut butter on bread. Really, what the hell. Wasn't peanut butter buttery enough for her? Well, whatever the case, she was HIS wife now and (finally) was in HIS bed. Damn, how many years of sexual tension and deprivation had it been? Fifty? Sixty? Maybe those elves could wait for ever, but by Eru, it was too much to ask of a man, even a Numenorean. Eh, it was worth it, Aragorn conceded. She's super hot.
Aragorn rolled over and gazed upon his precious wife. She was fast asleep, with her mouth slightly open. She was drooling on the pillow. And her eyes were open. It was kinda creepy how elves slept with their eyes open, Aragorn thought. He would never get used to it. Was she watching him right now? He wiggled a hand in front of her face. No response. Heh. Those crazy elves. That crazy Legolas. He had seemed super out of sorts today. Did elves always cry that much at weddings? Damn, what crawled up his ass and died?
Meanwhile, in his own chambers, Legolas was mid-pout. He'd half hoped that Aragorn would have married HIM today, not that halfelven little minx.
Maybe it had been just a pipe dream. The "Aragorn will whisk me away to his Gondorian castle as his bride" fantasy had been the primary focus of his thoughts for many a long month. But the man was Estel—hope—and Legsie would not give up hope... even now.
He had carried that shred of hope today, heading up the elven wedding precession. Legolas had spent extra time dolling himself up for the big day, making sure he'd be the prettiest one there. His hair had been intricately braided and he'd worn his absolute finest clothes. He'd even put some glitter around his eyes. Maybe Aragorn would change his mind last minute and marry him instead. And maybe Aragorn would forsake familial obligation and give ol' Elrond a big "fuck you," leaving Arwen weeping at the altar while he whisked Legolas off to Tahiti for a private wedding.
No, but it was not to be. He'd married Arwen. His step-sister no less. Eeew. Legolas wrinkled his nose in disgust. What was with that family and incest? First Elladan and Elrohir were gettin' it on, and now this. But Legolas didn't care. Aragorn was still his shmoopsiepoo, his cuddlebunny. That man could not just throw aside their relationship. He could not erase the intimate moments they had spent together in Lothlorien.
That brought Legolas to another concern that had been weighing him down. It wasn't easy being one of those fertile male elves. It especially wasn't easy when you run out of birth control pills halfway through Moria and you can't refill your prescription since there's no pharmacies around for miles.
And then that night in Lothlorien... It had been hot. Legolas remembered it like it was yesterday. There had been some kind of steamy tension between him and Aragorn for the entire journey and that night, in the glade in Lorien, he decided to act on it. He'd oozed up to the man as Aragorn sat polishing Anduril.
"Anduril, eh? Flame of the West. Reforged from the shards of Narsil. How... sexy," Legolas was frantically grasping at straws. Words escaped him. He was too horny to think. Damn. He'd have to rely on his physical appeal
"Ummm... that's a big sword. Maybe you'd better let me practice with it," Legolas sighed as he let his tunic slip down over a shoulder. Licking his lips, he shot a smoldering glance at Aragorn. Legolas was sure that one more skanky suggestion and/or maneuver would seal the deal. He unbuttoned his tunic and leaned back languorously.
"A big, strong man like you ought to have a big, hot flame of the West," Legolas intoned meaningfully.
That was enough for Aragorn. He threw Andruril to the side and pounced on Legolas, pinning the elf to the forest floor. Words were not even exchanged as they tore at each other's pants; the lust was mutual. Legolas grinned at the memories. Aragorn had been a demon in the sack. Well, technically, not in the sack, but in the undergrowth near the Fellowship's encampment. And then in the she-elves' washroom. And then in Haldir's broom closet. And then on Celeborn's throne. And then after that...Mmmm.... He hadn't been able to sit or walk comfortably for a week. That Aragorn, Legolas purred to himself. He was all man. But enough about that. Legolas had to concentrate on the issue at hand. He could be pregnant. And Legolas knew there was nothing more shameful and hilarious than male pregnancy. If only Aragorn had married him! It would have all worked out.
He eyed the home pregnancy test on his nightstand. It had been so embarrassing buying it. Everybody had stared. He was sure they knew he was buying it for himself. They probably thought he was a slut. And then, to add to the humiliation, the cashier had to do a price check. "Price check on the Fertile Freak brand elven male home pregnancy test!" Valar, how those words haunted him! He hadn't gotten up the guts to use the damn thing but he was going to have to...
With a sigh of resignation, he picked up the box and headed to the washroom, awaiting the dreadful moment of truth.
A few minutes later, the night's silence was broken as "Shit!!" echoed throughout Minas Tirith.
"My Lord, someone to see you."
Aragorn looked up at the page from his paperwork. Well, it wasn't really paperwork. He was struggling with the jumble on a Dingy's Restaurant children's menu. He mumbled something and dismissed the page, who ushered Legolas into the room.
Legolas looked tired. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. He looked like he'd been crying.
"Aragorn, I have to tell you something."
"Yup?"
"Aragorn, I'm.... sniffle I'm...."
"Happy? Sad? Gassy? Going on an expedition to Osgiliath? Out with it man!" Back to the jumble... now was it kenyom? Mykone? Ah, monkey....
"Aragorn, I'm pregnant!!"
Yeah, monkey. He was a smart cookie. Quite suited to being King. Really the perfect... Then it registered.
"WHAT?? You're WHAT??"
"I'm sorry... I.... I..."
"No, no. This is some kind of joke right?? Please say it's a joke." Legolas shook his head.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. How? Why?"
"Some male elves can be fertile.... And I'm a freeeeeaaaaak!" Legolas sobbed.
"Oh shit. Arwen is going to kill me."
"What about me? What about us?"
"I'm the fucking king!! I have a wife! This could ruin me!"
"How do you think I feel?? Burn you, I'm the fucking prince of Mirkwood! My dad'll have my head!!"
"Elrond will kill ME! Oh gods, this will kill me! Ruin my life! And my career! Are you sure its mine? Who else have you fucked?"
"Just you, I swear," Legolas whimpered.
"You were begging for it like such a little whore... I wouldn't be surprised if you let the hobbits take turns with you..."
"I beg your pardon! I was completely faithful to you. I was yours body and soul...!"
"Well then," Aragorn retorted. "Still, this is a fine pile of shit we're in..." Aragorn paced about the room. He was still fuming.
"This just can't happen. It can't. I just can't fucking believe it!" Aragorn paused. His mind rapidly scanned for something, SOME way to get out of this. "Hmmm...We'll have to do something about your baby, it's just not—"
"OUR baby," Legolas corrected. "Your baby. We made love and created this life!"
"Never, EVER say 'made love' ever again! That is the sappiest, lamest phrase I have ever heard!" Aragorn roared back.
"That's not what you said in Lothlorien!"
Damn it. Legolas had him there. Aragorn's mind was racing. He picked up a phone book and thumbed though it.
"What are you looking at? Let me s-" Legolas grabbed the book out of Aragorn's hands. He looked at the ad on the page and terror gripped his heart. "I am not getting an abortion."
"It's the only solution!" Aragorn yelled as he yanked the book back.
"I can't get an abortion!" Legolas insisted through tears.
"Why not??"
"I'm.... Catholic!" wept Legolas.
Aragorn stared blankly. What's Catholic? he wondered. Maybe it's an elven term for being knocked up.
"I don't know what that means, but we have to do something about this. I'm going to—"
"You don't want to abort the future king of Gondor and Arnor, AND the realm of Mirkwood. Your heir..."
"Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap on a crap cracker." The weight of it all hit Aragorn. Not only would this kid be half-elven, but he (she?) would inherit half of Middle-Earth. Wow. Aragorn sat down. He looked at the abortion ad. It featured a worried looking elf sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest. The ad read: Fertile Male Elf? Pregnant? Don't know where to turn? Alquanim Abortion Services may be your answer.
What had he gotten himself into? Aragorn considered his future as Legolas sat and sniffled on the divan. He was wiping his nose on his sleeve. Damn, that was gross. He remembered that he used to do that all the time before he was King. And he never washed his tunic when he was Rangering about and then the snot would dry on the sleeve and Halbarad would laugh at him...
"Awwww, shit." Aragorn sat down next to Legolas and gave him a hug. Not one of those manly one-arm hugs, but a big ol' squeezy hug. "It'll be OK, Legsie."
More hugging ensued, followed by a few chaste kisses that quickly turned into a slobbery tongue fest. Then the groping started. Until Aragorn pulled himself away and his hands out of Legolas' breeches.
"No, I'm a married man. The King of Gondor and Arnor and fuck knows else."
"Then, marry me. Make an honest woman, err... man.... I mean, elf out of me," Legolas replied.
"No, no. I can't do that... wait a minute. Did you just refer to yourself as a woman??"
"I can't help it. I'm so confused now that I'm pregnant. It's all the estrogen in my system."
"I can't marry you and that's that. Arwen wouldn't be too happy with me." Legolas looked deep into Aragorn's eyes. He was not about to let Arwen get in the way of his one true love.
"You'll have to kill Arwen," he replied silkily.
Aragorn considered this for a minute. She could have a mishap... Wait, no.
"Legsie. I'm not going to kill my wife so I can marry you. I love her too much and I've waited too damn long to finally get her. We've been married less than 24 hours and I'm not about to give her the axe." "You don't have to do it. I know some boys from Mirkwood who work for cheap. They specialize in icepicks and—"
Aragorn glared icily at Legolas.
"Damn it, Gornie! Ya gotta marry me!" Legolas sobbed. "Our baby needs a proper family!"
At this point, Legolas decided to unveil his secret weapon... he'd stolen Nenya, one of the three elven rings of power, from Galadriel. (And conveniently replaced it with a plastic skull ring he'd found in a box of Cracker Jack. She hadn't noticed so far, and it had been, what, three months?) Anyway, he pulled out Nenya and zapped Aragorn a good one with it.
"Go kill Arwen and then marry me."
"Yes! My master!" Aragorn replied robotically, as he picked up a crowbar and walked stiffly out of the room.
Legolas smirked to himself. His baby was gonna have a damn good father.
So, ten years later, there the happy couple was. King and Queen of Gondor. Aragorn was the proud father of a half-elven heir to the throne of Just About Everything. He had pushed to name the baby Eldarion, but Legolas had won out with Cornelius Tinuviel Melody Depp. Aragorn was a bit pissed off, but he had bigger fish to fry. Like his guilty conscience about the disposal of Arwen. And that bloodstain he insisted was on his hands, but nobody else could see.
Legolas, on the other hand, was flourishing. He'd dyed his hair black and wore Arwen's dresses. When he went out, he held a fan in front of his face, just so nobody would notice his five o' clock shadow. And anyway, fans were so flirtatious.
"Shall we vacation in Ithilien this summer, dearest?" Legolas asked Aragorn as they held court.
"That sounds just peachy, babe..... out damn spot...!" Aragorn added as he fumbled with some lemon-scented moist towlettes.
Legolas sat back and turned the plans over in his head. It was nice spending time in Ithilien with Eowyn. He didn't have to hide his secret from her. …owyn had never been a fan of Arwen. But, Legolas realized, she did have a thing for Aragorn. Hmmm.... Have to whack her next. The list just kept getting longer. Celeborn was starting to suspect something, too. Damn, it really was true. Blood called blood. Maybe he should have just put Arwen in the dungeon instead. Oh well, too late now. Legolas smiled as he set down his emery board and picked up a petit-four. Damn, those things were addictive. He looked over to his beloved, who was frantically scrubbing at his palm.
"Cake??"
Aragorn looked up. Trembling, he held out his hands and cried, "I can't eat cake if my hands are covered in blood! Are you mad!"
"Remember, poodle, use your inside voice," Legolas nagged.
Suddenly, right then at that very moment, unexpected and with absolutely no forewarning or advanced notice, Galadriel burst in through the door. "Damn you, Legolas! I was washing my hands and I noticed Nenya is gone! Take back this cheap of piece plastic and give me my Nenya!" she growled.
"I wish I could wash my hands... fecking spot..." Aragorn sulked.
Galadriel threw herself at Legolas. The two grappled. Legolas kicked her in the box but it just made her angrier.
"Damn you for taking my bling-bling and killing my granddaughter! You're gonna get it!" she yelled as she grabbed Legsie's hand and bit off the finger on which he wore Nenya.
"I'm #1! I'm #1" she cried as she held up Legolas's finger. "Now, Nenya, undo all this crap you did and restore things to the way they were." With that, Galadriel blasted off in a spray of fireworks and sulfurous odors as she flew (!?!?) back to Valinor.
The ground began to quake and shitty morphing effects engulfed our heroes.
"Wha... what's happening?"
"Where am I?"
As the weird fuzzy darkness cleared, Legolas and Aragorn found themselves back in Aragorn's study in Minas Tirith. Legolas looked to the calendar on the wall. The year read 3019 Third Age. They were back where they started! (And the peanut gallery cheers!!)
There was a knock at the door and without further ado, Arwen bustled in.
"Aragorn, we have to talk about the wedding gifts. Both Glorfindel and …omer gave us crepe pans and I can't see myself using two, let alone one ..."
Aragorn leapt up from the divan and hugged his wife with the force of a thousand sticky sea urchins.
"Ohmigod, baby, I thought you were dead!" he whimpered into her hair.
"No, I'm perfectly fine... Now we need to discuss the wedding gifts and thank-you notes. Oh and then there's the matter of that painting Erestor gave us. It's so thoroughly hideous and I don't know what to do with it... do you have a minute, dear?" she asked pleasantly.
Aragorn certainly did. Anything to get out of Legolas' clutches. That glimpse into the possible future had been a bit too frightening.
The matter of the pregnancy was ultimately resolved. Aragorn got out of the sticky situation with Legolas by falsely claiming that he had contracted herpes from Arwen and did not want to infect Legolas. The elven prince quickly broke off all ties to his King. Seeking a quick marriage in order to ensure a father for his bastard child, Legolas hooked up with …omer. They ran off to Vegas and got married by an Elvis impersonator. Legolas was quite thrilled holding court in the Golden Hall. It had such a lovely color scheme.
It is a flat out lie that …omer married Lothiriel, the daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. This rumor was spread by people with far too much time on their hands, such as Radagast the Brown and Tom Bombadil. Such horrible gossips they are.
Aragorn and Arwen lived as happily ever after as they could, seeing as how they would both eventually die and death is sad. But their marriage was a blissful one, except for the one time when Arwen intentionally urinated in Aragorn's coffee, but that's a story for another day.
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One Sticky Situation by Sailmistress Tik
Story notes: Three cheers for mind-numbing hours spent watching Family Guyand Sealab 2021. My insanity has been fueled. Also, some shameless 'Wheel of Time' references... And yah, we've got some movie verse goin' on here. Technically Aragorn weds Arwen mid-year's day 3019 (third age), months after all the war 'n ring hubbub died down but... screw it. Time moved so much faster in the movie!
