| My Dear Frodo |
| by |
| Minna |
Title: My Dear Frodo
Author: Minna
Rating: R
Warnings: Slash Interspecies Unusual Pairing
Pairing: Frodo Aragorn very slightly implied one-sided Sam Frodo.
Archive: Sure, but tell me where!
Summary: What if Aragorn had been there when Frodo woke up instead of Gandalf? Slash Frodo/Aragorn
DISCLAIMER: JRR Tolkien (Tohlkenn –say it!) is god. I am but a lowly mortal who has nothing better to do than ponder possibly slashy moments.
Aragorn sat outside Frodo’s chamber, legs stretched out in front of him as he waited semi-patiently for the physicians to finish their admittedly important work and emerge.
“Honestly Aragorn –you look as if you’re hunting deer” someone said with a laugh, and he looked up. Legolas, naturally.
“Greetings, friend” he said quietly.
“Why so tense?”
“I haven’t seen him since we arrived –he was too sick to even be frightened any more”
Legolas smiled reassuringly. “The elven healers are skilled. Your friend will be fine –look, here they are now”
Aragorn couldn’t help but pay very little to what was said beyond ‘he should recover fully’. As soon as they finished speaking he started to enter, but was stopped by a dark-haired physician who looked at him disapprovingly.
“The last thing he needs is a couple of noisy soldiers tramping about in the sickroom”
“I’ll be back in a moment” he said quietly. Aragorn spun on his heel, strode outside.
“Samwise” he called, and the hobbit jumped to his feet, “Would you like to see Frodo with me? He isn’t awake yet”
His face shone, and the hobbit scrambled up the steps as fast as short legs could carry. Aragorn walked back with him to where the physician was still standing in front of the door. Aragorn looked her up and down, picked her up around the waist and set her down to one side of them.
“I apologise, ma’am” he said politely, and ushered Samwise in before him, telling him in an undertone that he must be silent even as the door closed behind them with a gentle ‘click’.
It was cool and light in there, as elven sickrooms always were –they felt dark was too depressing for the patient.
A tiny, sleeping figure lay in the centre of the overlarge bed, face serene. Black hair framing his head in its usual shock and only emphasising the pale state of his face.
“Mr. Frodo?” Samwise whispered, sounding suddenly very young.
“He sleeps, Sam” Aragorn told him, and almost felt sick at the site of him, still and deathly white.
They each sat one either side of his bed, not moving until long after the sun had set and darkness descended.
“Go to bed, Samwise Gamgee” Aragorn told him, and Sam shook his head stubbornly.
“What if he wakes up while I’m gone?”
“Then I’ll make sure to send someone in get you. Your rooms are only next door, Sam. You will do him no good if you manage to last out until he awakens, then fall asleep anyway”
Sam looked faintly embarrassed.
“I suppose not” he said miserably.
“Well, come on then. Off with you”
Sam leant forward, kissing Frodo’s forehead gently then gave Aragorn a look which managed to be both sheepish and stubborn at the same time. He smiled.
“Goodnight, Sam” he said firmly, “Now out”
He left.
Aragorn touched one smooth cheek, trailed fingers through black hair which felt like glass.
“I haven’t protected you thus far only to see you die, little Frodo” he said quietly.
He sat on the edge of the bed, took one hand in both of his and waited.
Waited for the tiny, sickly angel to awaken.
Terrifying animals with spindling limbs and red eyes too large for their thin, pointed faces chased him through the forest, calling for the object about his neck. They flitted through the forest to either side of him, letting out high-pitched moans and squeals, snapping at him. The creatures would have been smaller than him but for huge, thin legs which seemed scarcely bigger than half a dozen spider web threads which catapulted their height another 4 feet.
Frodo slipped into a copse of tightly-packed willow trees, and scrambled up the one in the centre, but as the creature approached, he would still be within its reach. So he continued climbing, and climbing…the animals were growing as fast as he could climb, their limbs lengthening. Frodo’s grip slipped, and he slid down a foot, by which time their growing had overtaken his climbing. He was trapped.
“Frodo” they hissed, circling the tree, “We’ve come to claim it. You shall make a handsome carry-bag, and what finer a container than the previous owner? Yes…we shall take the ring, and slay he who carries it”
Mad cackling, Frodo shrunk against the trunk of the willow as the long, spindling fingers of the hand of the closest creature reached for the object around his neck, but the chain gave an odd tug and reached forward towards the overlong digits.
“No!” he telled and wrenched it away, losing his balance and falling out of the tree towards so many outstretched, tree-branch hands and sharp-teethed mouths which snapped forward eager to rip and tear and bite at tender hobbit-flesh.
And a figure appeared amongst those below him, not looking at the sky, not noticing the terrified figure hurtling towards the ground.
“Stryder!” he screamed, voice choked, but kept falling…and when he landed, it was not met by the claws and teeth he’d expected, but by the enveloping warmth of a large, soft bed, and a room brightly lit by sunlight which streamed through a door which opened on to a balcony, overlooking the most beautiful city he’d ever seen.
Hobbiton had been pretty. It had been a sweet, pretty place which spoke of nice people who loved their homes. This place –it was beautiful, aesthetically so, designed by someone whose mind was filled with magic and light. It burnt at ones heart, such beauty.
“Frodo?” a worried voice asked, and he sat up.
“Stryder?”
Aragorn smiled.
“You’ve woken, little one”
“Awake?”
“Yes –I was loathe to wake you, but you were calling out for fear of something”
“Thank you” Frodo said.
He smiled, and the hobbit slid across the bed, wrapping his arms around him.
The ranger smiled, holding the smaller figure.
“Frodo?”
“Hm?”
“Are you –do you feel all right?”
“Mmm hmm” he murmured, and closed his eyes.
“Frodo –I promised to call for Sam when you woke. It was the only way I could convince him to leave the room and allow you sleep. Gandalf was also here much the night. They will want to know you are awake”
Frodo clutched at him, eyes betraying fear.
“Don’t go” he whispered, and burying his face into the cloth of Aragorns shirt. Aragorn held him close, kissing the top of his head.
“Why not?”
“Because…just for a few minutes? Please?”
“Okay”
“This is uncomfortable” he mumbled into Stryders shirt, and got up onto his knees.
Frodo blinked owlishly at him, and Aragorns breath caught.
He was dressed in an elven shirt, which came down to just past his knees and the neck kept slipping off one shoulder. He was thoroughly mussed, bleu eyes bright. He smiled shyly, head cocked to one side slightly, small, sweet and utterly desirable.
“Oh, Frodo…” he breathed and hesitant, touched the side of his face for a moment.
“I…maybe you should get back into bed, there’ll be hell to pay if you catch cold…”
Frodo took his hand, pressed it against his face.
“Do I feel cold?” he whispered, and Aragorn shook his head. Frodo moved the hand down to the opening of his shirt.
“Or here?”
“No…”
Buttons deftly opened one-handed.
“Here?”
“Not…at all…”
Just so very slightly lower, and his fingers just ligtly brushed something which made Frodo shiver.
“Here?”
“No, you aren’t”
Frodo stopped, settled himself between the mans legs and laying Aragorns hand on the inside of his thigh, high up.
“What about here?”
Aragorn didn’t say anything, but Frodo didn’t mind –he couldl already feel the answer.
Frodo twisted around, pressing against Stryder and pulling his head down to kiss.
“Have we answered the question?” he whispered, and Aragorn smiled.
“Quite”
“I’m so glad”
“Mr. Aragorn? Gandalf tells me…” Sam stopped short, entire body mirroring the shock in his eyes.
“Mr. Frodo?” he whispered, and Aragorn felt him stiffen in his arms.
“Yes, Sam?” he asked innocently, sounding for all the world as if nothing were amiss. Sam’s eyes filled with tears.
“I’ll…just be going then, didn’t mean to interrupt anything…”
“Sam, you weren’t interrupting..” Frodo began, but the hobbit had fled, the door slamming loudly behind him. Frodo swore.
“Perhaps we should go after him?”
“No –it won’t solve anything. He needs a few minutes to sort it out in his own mind”
Aragorn sighed.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“You can kiss me again” Frodo suggested with a grin.
He obliged.
END OF CHAPTER ONE
So do you think I should continue?
Know where some Aragorn/Frodo is?
Tell me! ^.^
Love,
~Minna