A Bed Too Large
(for the likes fo me)
by
Minna
Title: A Bed Too Large (For The Likes of Me)
Author: Minna
Rating: R
Feedback: Yes please!
Archive: Sure, but please tell me where ^.^
Pairing: Frodo Aragorn
Subject: The cold of night is helped little by uncomfortably large bedrolls. Liberties taken. Slash Frodo/Aragorn
Disclaimer: JRR Tolkien (Tohlkenn –say it! *Not* Tolkeeyn. Gah) is god. I bow down and worship thee as a lesser being, oh mighty one. Anything you recognise is not mine, anything you don’t probably isn’t either.
Notes: I would really, really appreciate being pointed in the direction of any Frodo/Aragorn stories. I can’t seem to find any so I’m writing them. But I want to read them. Aargh.
Frodo lay curled up in his bedroll –it was a human one, so he felt a bit lost in it –but it was warm, and that was the only thing to really matter. As per usual he was situated between Samwise and Aragorn, although the latter was on watch and the former –along with everyone else –fast asleep. Frodo stuck his head up, glancing around at the still forms made visible by inconsistent firelight.
Oh, this as useless. Frodo struggled from the bedroll, knocking a corner into the fire during the process of. He swore, hauling it out and stamping the fire out. An amused chuckle reminded him of the rangers presence, and he blushed.
“Hi”
“Greetings, Frodo. And what are you doing up at this late hour –besides fooling about with the fire”
“Hm? Oh…that is, I can’t sleep” he said quietly.
“I see. Planning to sit up long?”
“I don’t know –until I’m tired, I suppose”
“Fair enough”
Frodo sat down beside him, looking out over the night. He shivered, and Aragorn draped an arm across him, pulling him close.
“You’re too thin, little one”
Frodo tried to protest, but was interrupted by a yawn. Aragorn laughed softly whilst the hobbit gave up, lay against his shoulder and closed his eyes, his breathing slow and steady after a few moments.
Stryder kissed his forehead gently and looked out over the night.
Presently, Frodo stirred somewhat.
“Aragorn?” Sleepily, and broken by a yawn.
“Yes, Frodo?”
“Why aren’t I ever on watch?”
Aragorn was silent for a moment, sitting quietly and stroking Frodo’s hair back, soothing.
“In the event of a fight, the sentry in the first to know and raise alarm”
Frodo snuggled closer, nodding against his chest.
“Well, they’re also the most at risk. When ambushing, the first and foremost object is to shoot the sentry. You can’t be put to that kind of risk”
“Because I’m the ringbearer”
“Precisely”
Frodo shifted again. Aragorn turned, swept the tiny form onto his lap with a smile. Frodo lay against his chest, seemingly mesmerised listening to Stryder’s heartbeat.
“Comfortable?”
“Mmm…very”
Tiny arms crept around his neck.
“It isn’t just that, Frodo”
“Hm?”
“Being Ringbearer is part of it –a very large part –but I wouldn’t be comfortable with it anyway”
“you don’t think I could do it –don’t trust me enough?” his voice trembled with hurt, and Aragorn wrapped both arms about him.
“No, of course not! It’s just…you’re very child-like little one. I’d hate to see you hurt”
“I am *not* a child” Frod said firmly, bright blue eyes peering up at him, reproachful.
“You are young, however. Only just of age, Frodo”
“Not as young as you perceive”
Aragorn divested himself of the sleepy hobbit curled in his lap, ignoring quiet protests and the feel of cool air where he had been. Frodo glared at him out of one large blue eye before scrambling to his feet, shivering.
“Why’d you do that?” he complained.
“I can hardly take such liberties with an adult, can I?”
“Why not?” Frodo asked, peevish.
Aragorn gave him a steady look, and Frodo cocked his head to one side before realisation dawned and he flushed.
“Even when the adult in question is freezing?”
“Even then. Now get to bed, little one –I will be there myself in a moment but for waking Legolas to his watch. You have been up longer than you should and we have waiting tomorrow a long day”
Frodo nodded acquiescence, and crept into the enormous nest of blankets and things that was his bed.
When Aragorn lay down barely moments later, Frodo was already slumbering, one tiny hand raking at the ground abstractly.
It was perhaps 40 minutes later that Aragorn was jolted suddenly from sleep by something –a pop in the fire, perhaps –turning instinctively towards Frodo upon waking, to see him lying curled up on the ground beside his bedroll, face buried in folded arms, only black hair visible.
The usual sleeping arrangements had Merry, Pippin, Sam and Frodo lying in that order, the bedrolls overlapping slightly. Whilst the first 3 naturally huddled together, Frodo always managed to work his way out of the bedroll, curled up on the grass between his blankets and Aragorns.
“He’s fallen out again, hasn’t he?” Legolas’ musical voice drifted softly from his vantage point above them all, and Aragorn whispered an affirmative. A soft laugh from the elfs direction, but no reply.
Frodo mumbled something in his sleep & rolled onto his side, sweet face innocent and blank in sleep.
Aragorn sighed, clambered out of bed to lift the slight form into his arms and placed him back in bed.
Pulling his bedroll closer, he slid into bed and closed him eyes.
Within 10 minutes, Frodo had worked his way out of bed and was half-curled against him, dark head on his chest, rising and falling with each breath.
Aragorn sighed, accepted the inevitable and pulled the hobbit in beside him.
A small sigh and arms around his neck, face buried into his chest. Lithe form nestled –melted –against him, distinctly right. Small noise, muffled sleeping words and one leg moved, sliding easily between his.
This was starting to become embarrassing.
One hand, rubbing at an eye, lay beside his head and just inside Aragorns shirt, fingers furling and unfurling in sleep, warm breath on his chest.
Aragorn gently disentangled himself from the sleeping hobbit, firmly facing him away, tucked against his body for warmth.
“Taking liberties, Stryder?” a sleepy voice asked, struggling to a sitting position to peer down in sultry, sleepy amusement at him.
“Hardly, little one”
“So this is a position you’d be found in with just anyone?” the sentence was split by a yawn, and Frodo lay back down, snuggling into his side.
“Harlot”
Aragorn had to laugh at that insult.
“Good night, Aragorn” he whispered, and kissed him.
Sweet, cool lips and a small hot tongue which darted out, tasting at is lower lip and touching to his own.
Frodo raised half-lidded eye to gauge his reaction.
“I think you should sleep, little one” Aragorn said, voice neutral.
“I am thirty-three years old Aragorn, not some silly boy barely in his tweens who needs a sheltering father figure despite what you may be determined to think”
Aragorn didn’t answer.
Frodo, infinitely hurt and determined to hide it, struggled free of blankets and encircling arms, scrubbing tears away with the back of his hand.
He buried himself inside the bedding, and it was some time before he allowed himself to cry, sobs which were easily muffled by bedclothes but little could e done to hide the quivering of his body.
Aragorn didn’t sleep that night until long after Frodo had succumbed to the oblivion of it.
Frodo spent all of the next day walking with Sam, Merry and Pippin, not talking to Aragorn at all –not rude or pointed, simply avoiding conversation. A brief stop at a large stream saw the hobbits upriver a ways to wash away the dirt of the road.
“Aragorn...if you would?” Legolas inquired, standing. A curt nod, and he followed the blonde elf into the woods.
“Yes?”
Legolas contemplated him a few moments before starting.
“You’ve made him utterly miserable, you know”
“Who?”
“Whatever you said was just a touch too cold. Studiously avoiding looking at you because he doesn’t want to think about whatever it is you did. Honestly –I never thought you callous, Aragorn”
“Enough!” he cried, prompting the elf to raise an eyebrow.
“My taste does not extend to children, Legolas”
“Frodo is most emphatically not a child”
“Nonetheless, I’ve no intention of bedding him”
“Why not?”
That stopped him for a moment.
“Because –I don’t love him” he said, realising the words as falsehood only as they passed his lips.
“Oh? He loves you.”
“…really?”
“You’re joking? The boy’s been taken with you at least since Rivendell”
“He’s the ringbearer…”
“So?”
Aragorn laughed suddenly, and embraced his friend.
“Seems you’ve once again shown me up a fool”
Legolas smiled, but deigned it wiser to refrain from comment.
Aragorn did nothing until the end of his watch late that night, when he drew back the sheets of his palette, sat cross-legged and lifted the slumbering Frodo from his bed into his lap, gently nodding head against his cheek.
“Aragorn?” he whispered groggily, blinking at the face above his.
“Yes, little one”
Large yawn, revealing small, perfect white teeth.
“But…”
“I’m a moron?”
“Uhmm…I wouldn’t go quite that far”
“I would. Someone took me to one side and reminded me of how stupid I could and was being”
“I forgive you”
“That was fast”
“Complaints”
“Not at all”
Frodo pulled his head down and kissed him, fingers entwined through thick, dark hair.
From his post, Legolas smiled.
Maybe I should sit through Samwise’s post he mused, and shot a glance at the pair. And Gimli’s