Title: Blackmailed Love Author: Balrog Pimp (aka The Pipster) Email:lee_saiyan_queen@hotmail.com Pairings: Boromir/Pippin, Frodo/Merry Rating: G (coming chapters could arise into R- rated material) Summary: Pippin's gotta a crush on one of the Big Folk and Merry's got a thing going for his cousin. Both to scared to make a move, both knowing the others secret. Could this arise into blackmail? Disclaimer: The usual... Authors Note: This story is an idea inspired by one of my best friends I fondly call Merry (me being Pippin). She's got a huge crush on Elijah so I wrote this one for her. Me, I like Boromir but I can't stand original female characters and Mary-Sue's so this was the only way I could get a shot at him. There may be more chapters coming in this story if I get reviews, this is my first submission to anything so please try to be kind. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! BLACKMAILED LOVE ................. Prologue: Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, more likely known to the population of the Shire as the troublesome duo of Merry and Pippin where outside on a windy Autumn morning picking the last of the apples from a large and beautiful old apple tree on the edge of a small hill. “Just a bit further Merry…” cried Pippin reaching forward for a small and rather wrinkled apple, just like many of the other apples they had picked. But that did not matter, it was the sense of adventure of sneaking into Farmer Maggot’s orchard to steal the measly apples that drew them. “Easier said than done cousin…” panted Merry squatting on the crook of a tree branch with Pippin on his shoulders trying to boost him up further. Just then a sudden icy blast of wind blew from the north. “Woah! It’s really shaky up here!” wailed Pippin looking down and squeezing his eyes shut with fright. “Don’t worry Pip, I gotcha… just reach a bit more you can do it.” Encouraged Merry chocking as Pippin’s legs tightened around his throat. Pippin started to reach forward again when the wind blew back the other way, hurting his eyes. Pippin yelped and reached out for the apple and at the same time toppling over. “Ahhh!” yelled Merry as Pippin caused him to fall also. Pippin felt as if the world was moving in slow motion as he and his cousin fell to earth, but having smaller bodies than most other people in Middle Earth Pippin had more time to roll up into a ball before his body came into contact with the ground. SMACK! He hit. He had hardly enough time to recover his wits before Merry came crashing down on top of him, smacking him down the hill they both tumbled. Their screams of fright turning into whoops of joy as the rolled down the hill together. The world looked like a kaleidoscope to Merry as everything went round and round and round. He could feel the small squashy apples in his back pockets turning into applesauce as they tumbled. Then he saw it… the small stream looming up. “STREAM! STREAM PIPPIN STREAM!” he yelled out as best as he could still rolling over and getting mouthfuls of grass. He tried to reach out to his younger cousin. There was a small bump and he managed to grab Pippin before he fell in. Unfortunately with the sudden yanking back of his jacket on behalf of Merry, Pippin lost his apple, which he had managed to hold in his hand throughout the entire journey down the hill. Yes, the very apple that caused Merry and himself to fall out of the tree and down to where he was now sitting on the bank of the stream. “Hey! I was saving that!” he cried rather affronted. Merry was most put out by his heroics going unnoticed. “Would you rather you fell in the stream you foolish Took?” he asked, shoving his cousin so that he fell into the shallow part of the stream. Pippin grinned at the memory of the day. The very day before he had gone with Frodo to Bree. Now he was trudging along, feeling exhausted already during the early part of the day with a company of friends and strangers alike. They were going to some place called Mordor of which Pippin knew little and all of it was unpleasant. With him went his cousin and best friend Merry, his older cousin Frodo, his gardener Sam, Gandalf the Grey, a powerful wizard and friend of Frodo and Uncle Bilbo, Strider a ranger, Gimli a dwarf, Legolas an elf and lastly Boromir a man of a Southern land called Gondor. It was only the second day since they had set out from Rivendell but already Merry and Pippin had made an impression on all members of the fellowship. “Are you from Mirkwood, Legolas?” asked Merry breaking the ice on the first day. “Yes.” He replied. “The ACTUAL Mirkwood?” said Merry astounded, he had heard many a tale from Old Uncle Bilbo about Mirkwood. “Yes, the same. Do you know of any other?” asked Legolas a faint smile forming on his lips by the Brandybucks irrepressible curiousity. Pippin grew into an excited, mumbling body. “Do you suppose he was in the Battle of the Five Armies Merry?” he asked quietly and quickly. Legolas of course heard but did not let them gave the benefit of knowing that. “I dunno Pip, why don’t YOU ask him?” “I don’t know, I thought perhaps it would be rude of me.” “You never cared for manners before Pippin, why start now?” “I’m trying to make a good impression in front of an Elf, Merry.” At this Legolas started laughing. “Do not worry about making any impressions young hobbits, I have already heard a great deal about you two rascals from Aragorn.” Pippin blushed, “You heard me.” “Of course. What do you think these are for?” he said indicating his ears. “I see you have much to learn about the ways of Elves Master Peregrin and Master Meriadoc.” “Merry and Pippin thanks.” Said Merry. “Very, well, Merry and Pippin.” But of all the member of the fellowship Pippin had inexplicitly been drawn to the quiet, arrogant Steward of Gondor. Boromir. There was just that something about him, Pippin just couldn’t explain. Title: Blackmailed Love 2/? Author: Balrog Pimp (aka The Pipster) Email:lee_saiyan_queen@hotmail.com Pairing(s): Boromir/Pippin, Frodo/Merry (others?) Rating: G (coming chapters could arise into R- rated material) Summary: As for Part 1 Disclaimer: The usual... Authors Note: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW PLEASE! ^_^ Suggestions, comments welcome! Pippin was being annoying. Okay Pip, you’re my best friend and I love you but could you please just shut up! You’ve been telling your life story over and over again… even my life story though I have to tell you to keep your mouth shut at some parts. Good lord! Thought Merry to himself. Boromir had been grinning now he was trying desperately to tune out the yapping voice of the young Took. “Blah blah blah…” Pippin just went on and on. “That’s it!” Merry yelled. He went to kick Pippin, but Pippin yelped and leapt away. Merry began to chase him round the fellowship. Pippin was now breaking into high-pitched shrieks, enjoying the chase. “Come here wussy boy!” “I’m not wussy!” called back Pippin, colliding into Gandalf’s staff and promptly knocking himself out. The whole Fellowship cracked up then realized that Pippin could be really hurt and Gandalf revived him. Pippin groaned, “Since when have you had a twin brother Gandalf.” Asked Pippin obviously seeing double. Gandalf chuckled and said, “I fear you may have concussion young Peregrin but it did shut you up.” “Ha! You are a wussy!” said Merry triumphantly, helping his smaller cousin up. “You knocked yourself out of a lame old stick.” Pippin looked a bit putout but the out come was that he finally shut up and the rest of the Fellowship could travel in peace. Pippin was grumpy the rest of the day, not to mention having one hell of a headache. Suddenly he felt a large hand on his shoulder. “How’s the head feeling Pip?” It was Boromir. Pippin blushed slightly at the touch. “Mm m much better now thanks.” He stuttered a bit. Boromir grinned and patted him lightly on the back as he walked past. Pippin could smell his musky masculine smell that he had become very fond of radiate from him as he walked past and he sighed slightly. A dreamy look past in front of his eyes. A look that Merry instantly recognised in his young friend. “So go make a move.” He said sidling up to him. “What?” Pippin was shook out of far away thoughts. “Boromir I mean, I see that look you get after he talks to you. Look’s like little Pip’s got a crush on one of the Big Folk!” “Merry, what are you on about?! If you’re on pipe weed then share it around!” Said Pippin going from a pale white of shock to an angry red. “Never worry Pip Squeak, I won’t tell him, but if you’re going to insist on being a foolish Took around him all the time than I’ll be forced to step in.” Pippin was silent for a moment, “I hate when you call me that Merry.” “What Pip Squeak? He he! I know you do, but that’s what makes it so much fun.” Pippin knew that Merry was getting hyped up, he often did too when he was lacking in sleep, just as they where, but at the moment, he was in no mood for Merry’s good-natured jest. Soon they stopped off. “Finally.” Moaned Frodo, rubbing sore feet. Sam immediately went to help relieve his master of his pain by giving him a foot massage. If anyone had been looking in his direction at the time they would have seen a fleeting scowl of jealously on the face of a certain Brandybuck. Pippin slumped down and let the bag slip off his back. He yawned loudly and pulled out a woolen blanket. He wrapped it around himself and got ready to go to sleep. “Pippin…” there came a quiet voice. “Hmmm.” He moaned frowning, opening one eye. It was Legolas. “You are appearing that you have chosen not to have any supper. Are you unwell?” he asked a little concerned. From what Legolas had gathered on the few days he had spent on the road with hobbits was their insatiable appetities. “No. I’m not hungry.” Muttered Pippin closing his eyes again. Legolas was rather taken aback and leapt back up to tell the others immediately. “Pippin not hungry? This is bad!” said Frodo. “I reckon he hit himself harder on the head than we gave him credit for I’d say, this is very much unlike Mr. Pippin and no mistake.” Said Sam. Merry frowned. He got up and walked towards Pippin. “Hey Pippin, you awake?” he asked. No reply. “Piiii pin, hellooo?” Still nothing. Merry gently flicked the tip of his nose. Pippin groaned and wrinkled his nose. “What?” he asked, sleepily and annoyed. “Hey Pippin, there’s Sam’s yummy mushroom soup. Remember how much you like that, I kept some for you.” “Thanks but you eat it.” Pippin sighed rolling over. Merry reached out a palm and layed it against Pippin’s head. It felt normal. “Whassa matta Pip?” “Headache.” “Betcha Boromir could make it all better huh?” he grinned. Pippin rolled over eyes wide. Merry laughed, “I know you Pip! Attention seeker! You just want some sweet loving from big ole Boromir, well if that was the plan than I’ll go get him! Otherwise, come and get some supper before you sleep. You’ll need it for tommorow.” Pippin was astounded; he thought that he’d tricked Merry too. Obviously knowing a guy your whole life has some drawbacks. “So getting up?” Merry asked. “Oh all right, but speak a word of this to anyone and I’ll tell Frodo about that look that you gave Sam today.” Now it was Merry’s turn to open his eyes, stunned. “You saw that!” “Of course, just the same way you saw through my guise. I saw that look.” “Fine you got yourself a deal Pip. Just keep that pie-hole of yours firmly closed!” “Hmmm, what sort of pie Merry?” Title: Blackmailed Love 3/? Author: Balrog Pimp (aka The Pipster) Email:lee_saiyan_queen@hotmail.com Pairing(s): Boromir/Pippin, Frodo/Merry Rating: PG... contains light thoughts... Summary: As for Part 1 Disclaimer: The usual... Authors Note: This ones a biggie and contains turning point. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW PLEASE! ^_^ Suggestions, comments welcome! Do not be shy to Review! I'll love ya for it! : )( After supper was devoured, Pippin returned to his blanket and prepared to settle down a second time. Boromir also wandered over to his blanket some feet away from them. Oh how Pippin wished to lie with him, to feel his arms as big a tree trunks wrapped snuggly round his delicate frame… He was knocked by such thoughts by the loud, rude voice of Merry. “Hey Boromir, come lie over here! Don’t go isolating yourself over there, it’s rude!” Boromir’s head snapped up and he grinned. “I thank you Meriadoc for you kind invitation, I will accept.” Pippin paled visibly when Boromir came over. “You can sleep here.” Merry patting the ground with his foot where he intended Boromir to go, this was practically less than a hair’s breadth away from Pippin. Merry smirked, pleased with himself. “You’ll be thanking me later.” He said quietly. Pippin was quite dumbfounded, he did not know whether to love or hate his cousin for what he had done. Merry went to lie on the other side of Boromir. “Merry, I thought that you would lie here, next to Frodo, like you always do. He’ll be disappointed.” “What!” shrieked Merry. “Pippin you just shut your trap!” Pippin giggled, “Make me!” Merry yelled and leapt over Boromir. Pippin yelped as Merry began to pound Pippin. “Ow ow ow, I’ve just eaten arrrgg!” “You’ll pay for that you treacherous Took… ow… stop pulling my hair you ass!” Boromir, who at first had sat back letting them sort out whatever problems they where having was now worried for the safety of both. They wrestled, trying to scratch the others eyes out. Eventually Merry, being the larger stronger one of the two, backhanded Pippin and the groggy Took found himself on the ground with a nose, which had just begun to throb a little. Blood tickled his nose and snarled, “That’s it!” But Boromir grabbed both of their jackets and held them apart in the air. They swung fists at each other, yelling things such as, “Let me at em!” and “I’m not through with you yet villain!” “Calm down you two, please! You are behaving like spoilt little children. Be still or I’ll be forced to treat you like the children in Gondor and tell you a bedtime story to shut you up.” “Really?” they asked in unison, shutting up and looking immediately interested. “Beware Boromir, there is no age restriction for bedtime stories in the Shire.” Said Aragorn grinning at the comical scene of the two young hobbits dangling from Boromir’s hands by their collars. Boromir grumbled, he did not mean the threat to go this way. “Well,” said Merry, folding his arms and legs still hovering above the ground, “Aren’t you going to put us down so we can listen?” Pippin hacked; his shirt was being pulled up around his throat and was chocking him. Boromir put them down. “What’s the story about?” asked Merry. “Umm, well, I, I’m sorry but I don’t know many stories, sorry guys.” Merry and Pippin’s faces turned to complete disappointment. “Not even one?” asked Pippin, giving him puppy dog eyes, which he had used to get out of trouble for as long as he could remember. Boromir hated that look and he searched his mind for something to keep them entertained. “Well, let’s see here, well how would you like to know the tale behind my largest scar?” “Oh yes please!” said Merry excitedly, “We’d love to hear that one, wouldn’t we Pip?” Pippin nodded fervently. Boromir chuckled, “Well, it’s not nearly as exciting as it sounds looking back on it, but for lads of your age the story may prove to be amusing.” “Can we see the scar Boromir can we?” asked Merry excitedly. “Well, I don’t know about that.” Merry and Pippin’s faces fell again. “But I guess I could…” “YEAH!” they started before he could finish. Boromir hesitantly took off his leather jacket. Suddenly, it registered in Pippin’s mind; maybe Boromir did not want to show them the scar because it was in an unsuitable place. His cheeks flushed scarlet. Merry leaned forward to watch. Boromir slowly undid his thin shirt revealing a smooth, tanned skin underneath. Pippin’s breathing hitched. He had to look away or he just knew he would start drooling, but his eyes where magnetically held onto Boromir’s fingers as he slowing removed his clothing. “Well there it is.” Said Boromir. Boromir had taken off that clothing way to quickly for Pippin’s taste, he could have sat there watching that display forever. “Woah! It’s huge!” said Merry. Pippin shook his head and laid eyes on the biggest scar he had ever seen in his life. It started at Boromir’s shoulder and ran in a fairly straight line down to his belly button. “Can I touch it?” asked Merry. “You may.” He replied, smiling at the young Brandybuck’s wonderment. Merry reached out and snaked his finger along the scar. “Man, that would’ve hurt!” “It did at the time yes, would you like a touch Pippin?” asked Boromir. Pippin suddenly looked like a deer in the headlights. Would I ever! He thought. But just as he was about to he thought suddenly, what if I can’t let go? It may sound silly to you or I but this thought was very serious to Master Peregrin. What if he touched him, and liked it so much he could not be removed. “Um, I don’t want to hurt you.” He muttered lamely. “I thank you for your concern Pippin, but I assure you that it does not hurt.” Feeling he had no more excuses Pippin reached out and touch his warm skin. It was soft and smooth and yet hard from the thick cords of muscle, which lay underneath. Pippin was lost then with a small cough from Boromir he removed his hand. Pippin was in a trance as Boromir put his clothes back on. “Well on with the story.” Said Merry cheerily. Yes the story, now Pippin remembered the reasoning behind what had just occurred. “Well,” said Boromir, “It was a long time ago, you may not have been born at that time, but this is how I remember it.” ~~~FLASHBACK~~~ “Faramir you dog, give that back!” 12-year-old Boromir charged up the stairs of the White Tower. It was an early Sunday morning, and Boromir had been up writing a secret love letter to a certain lass he shared classes with at the local school. Faramir laughed out loud, “Mwaaaahahahahaa, I hold the key to Brom’s undoing! Finally, I have beaten you big brother!” called 8 year old Faramir in a high-pitched voice. “If you ever show that to anyone you’ll curse the day mother brought you into this world you little miscreant!” Hollered Boromir, feet away from catching his brother. Up and up they ran, legs burning but never ceasing as they ran up the flights of the 50 odd story high building. Soon they had reached the top and Faramir ran panting in, catching his breath. The truth of the matter was that he would never really show that letter to anybody and he would give it back eventually. But Boromir didn’t know that and Faramir was bored and wanted a bit of fun. He laughed a little thinking that he had lost him. And turned his back to read the rest of the letter. “Oh no you don’t!” Boromir came lunging up the stairs two at a time. Faramir yelped, he was trapped, on the top floor of the tower there was nowhere else to go. “Ha ha! I have you now! Nice going Faramir but it seems I have beaten you at brains also!” he said as he menacingly approached the younger sandy haired boy. Just as he was about to pounce, Faramir leapt onto the open windowsill of the tower. “Not yet! If you still want your lovey dovey letter to Gwilia back you’ll have to follow me!” said Faramir as he backed out onto the thin ledge that wound around each level of the tower. “Faramir are you crazy?!” shrieked Boromir in frustration and terror for his little brother. “Get back inside here right now!” “We’ll see who’s crazy, if you want it Brom, come and get it!” Boromir in a fit of rage ran up to the window and leapt onto the sill. He looked down, “Oh!” he squeaked, his insides freezing at how high up he was. He had often looked out of the White Tower on the balconies, but never from a windowsill on the top floor. “What’s the matter, you’re not scared are you?” asked Faramir a little mockingly, a little worried that maybe they shouldn’t be doing this. As a rule, it was usually too dangerous if Boromir was afraid to try it, but Boromir growled. “It is you who should be scared. I’m coming for you.” He crept out onto the sill and with his back to the wall slowly edged around. Faramir grinned and began to edge away from him, giggling with the excitement of it all. Far below, on the streets of Minas Tirith it was market day. Denethor, the Steward of Gondor and acting king was wandering around looking for some fresh pork for that nights meal. All of a sudden there came a shout. “Look up there!” “What is it?” “It can’t be? Is it?” At that time Denethor looked up. “What in all of Middle Earth are Boromir and Faramir doing outside the top floor of Ecthelion?” As you can probably guess he was none too pleased about seeing the heirs of Gondor dilly-dallying around in what could potentially be an extremely dangerous situation. “Boromir! Faramir! Get inside right now!” he yelled up. Of course he was not heard. “Gerond, quickly send forth word to the people in the tower to get my sons down from there.” As his manservant left Denethor quickly went another way to another tower opposite Ecthelion. Boromir was quickly gaining on his brother and was nearly in range to make a grab for his brother but just as he we had the instinct to look across. Down a bit in the adjacent tower he saw… HIS FATHER?! And he did not look like he was about to offer him ice cream either. “Sir!” he yelled out. “What is it Brom?” Faramir asked. Boromir just about jumped out of his skin, he had forgotten Faramir was there. But he did not jump out of his skin, he just, jumped right off the tower! “Boromir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” yelled Faramir. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Boromir yelled. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!” Denethor yelled equally loud. Boromir began to windmill his arms and just as he was about to say his final prayers he felt something tear into his stomach right up to his shoulder. In his mind filled with adrenaline Boromir reached for the cold sharp thing that had cut him. He stopped falling. His heart very slowly began to slow down and he jerkily looked up to seen what he had caught hold of. It was one of the banner spikes. He grinned stupidly, such dumb luck that was. All of a sudden he noticed the pain in his side. He yelled out a bit pain and for help. “Try to stay calm Son of Gondor.” Said a familiar voice. It was Gerond. A ladder was lifted up and Boromir was brought down. It was such a relief to be back inside again and alive. Faramir came running in. “I’m sooo sorry Boromir, I’ll never do that again. I thought you where going to die!” sobbed the boy. Boromir now sufficiently calmed down was able to have a try at a joke. “Yes, I am alive, but I am afraid that you will not be.” Faramir looked up, his eyes shinning with tears and began to cry again, he clenched onto Boromir’s shoulders. “Ow!” cried Boromir sharply. He grasped his shoulder and blood seeped out onto his hand. Gerond immediately went to Boromir’s aid, who passed out from sheer exhaustion. When he woke up sometime after his father was there by his bedside. “Sir?” he asked timidly. “That was a dangerous stunt you two pulled and you shall be punished severely for it. You just about gave me a heart attack seeing my only blood up there on the verge of death.” “I am very sorry sir, it will not happen again.” He said apologetically. “Yes, I felt that that scar that you’ll get will be hindrance enough against repeating that exercise.” “My scar?” “You have injured yourself quite severally Gondor’s Son. This day will mark you the rest of your life.” “Where is Faramir?” To that Denethor chuckled a bit. “Somewhere he wishes he wasn’t.” was all he said. ~~~~END OF FLASBACK~~~~ “There that was how it happened.” Said Boromir coming back into the present and leaving that memory to burrow deep back into the recesses of his mind. There was a strange silence that followed, before Pippin blurted out. “You wrote a love letter?!” he snorted with laugher at the very thought of Boromir ever writing a love letter. Boromir was shocked that Pippin would find that the most important detail of the tale, he certainly did not think that was the highlight of it. “Master Peregrin I am going to have to ask you to stop laughing. It is not that funny.” “Oh yeah, right!” sniggered Pippin. “Right that’s it I’m going to teach YOU a lesson you’ll never forget, no one gets the best of Boromir!” Pippin shrieked as Boromir reached for him and rolled away. Boromir grabbed him by the ankle and yanked him back and began to poke him all over with gentle fingers. Pippin yelped and wriggled. “No! No! Oh Merry help!” Merry who had been half listening to the story was now devoting his time to watching Frodo help Sam to clean up and clear away the cooking ware. He especially enjoyed it when Frodo had to bend over. But now his Frodo observation was rudely interrupted from the racket, which had begun behind him all of a sudden. He grinned when he saw that Pippin was ultimately getting what he deserved. Boromir now had both of Pippin’s wrists in a tight grip above Pippin’s head. With his free hand he was tickling Pippin just below his under arm. Pippin was crying with laugher and was kicking his feet in an attempt to remove Boromir. Merry allowed himself to indulge in this play before he lunged at Boromir with a roar to get him to stop but only succeeded in getting into Boromir’s grasp as well. Legolas who had been spending the past half hour brushing his hair whilst having yet another argument with Gimli looked up to see Boromir trying to pin Merry to the ground while having Pippin leaping onto his back covering his eyes from behind. The rest of the fellowship laughed at them until Aragorn got up and told the ‘children’ that playtime was over and that they would have to get a good night’s sleep so that they could start of bright and early. Boromir, in his present excitable mood said, “Yes sir, right away sir, whatever you say sir.” Merry and Pippin giggled quietly before getting ready to settle down for sleep for a third time that night. TBC Title: Blackmailed Love 4/? Author: Balrog Pimp (aka The Pipster) Email:lee_saiyan_queen@hotmail.com Pairing(s): Boromir/Pippin, Frodo/Merry Rating: umm PG some of it is a little dodgy Summary: As for Part 1 Disclaimer: The usual... Authors Note: Just a bit of fun on the whole. A little break from the action. The firelight played red and black shadows across their faces. The Fellowship sat around it in their blankets. Pippin had a smile as big as the Nile on his face. Whatever Merry had done, he was grateful for it. Boromir was sitting right next to him and yet he didn’t feel like a complete bumbling idiot. He wouldn’t have Merry know though; he did want to live the rest of his days being gloated to by Merry. He sighed as he realized that he would have to return the favor with Frodo, though he had no idea how. He was not as clever as Merry in that department. Merry was joking with Sam or rather at him, Sam like everyone else, knew that Merry was never serious. Aragorn, Gandalf, Gimli, Frodo and Merry where all sharing in a quiet smoke and where discussing about trivial things such as where they would like to be in the next 20 years, to which Sam depressingly said, “If we live that long.” And that convosation was ended, which led into another, and that was what Merry was teasing Samwise about. Pippin sighed, feeling safe and warm in the company of his friends. He snuggled against Boromir’s arm. Boromir grinned and Pippin giggled as he was lifted into Boromir’s lap, wrapping his arms around Pippin in a bear hug. Pippin slipped down Boromir’s chest looking like a small child in the arms of the large man when in actual fact Boromir would not have been that many years older than him. Pippin could have sworn that he had been stabbed to death because if this wasn’t heaven than he didn’t know what to call it. His eyes began to cloud over and the smoke curled into many smiling faces, Aragorn who was directly across from him was a coloured blur. He yawned sleepily and closed his eyes. Within moments he had fallen asleep leaning against Boromir’s chest. The discussion around the fire did not last much longer, the moon was rising and the clouds parted to reveal a million stars. Aragorn yawned and Gandalf suggested it was time to turn in. Aragorn looked across at Boromir, Boromir was looking down at his lap. Aragorn could not describe the look on his face; it was a mixture of content, a little amusement and a deep fondness for the little creature in his arms. Aragorn’s first reaction was “Awwww”. Boromir’s head shot up. “What was that supposed to mean?” he asked sharply, mistaking the ‘awww’ for mockery. “I meant nothing by it just that you two look so cute like that!” said Aragorn, getting a mischievous glint in his eye. “Cute? Bah!” said Boromir. “I’ve never seen this side of you before Steward. It’s really quite… oh how shall I put it… adorable?” Said Aragorn cheekily. “Beware you may be my King but not yet my friend. There is still plenty of time to kill you yet.” He said getting up, totally forgetting about Pippin until he moaned a little in protested at his snuggly bed’s sudden choice to get up. Boromir instantly froze and slowly sat down again. Aragorn and the others chuckled at the bemused expression on his face. “What am I going to do with you Pip?” he asked quietly under his breath. “You are a case Gondor’s Son.” Said Aragorn to himself. Merry lay down. He was thoroughly pleased with his work with Pippin and Boromir, but how would he work that same magic with himself. He snuggled down again next to Pippin who was cocooned under Boromir’s arm. Everyone was asleep, but not he. He was busy plotting about the one hobbit who conveniently lay closest to him. Frodo Baggins. He would be sly. He reached over and gently ran his finger up and down Frodo’s large curved ear. He giggled a bit and pulled up his blanket around his head. “Stop it Sam please.” He said. “Sam?” said Merry to himself. He looked to the chunkier hobbit on the other side fast asleep. So there was the competition, a homegrown weed eating Gamgee. Well saddle up Frodo because it was time to unleash the charm that was… Meriadoc Brandybuck. He smirked to himself, this going to be one fun ride. The next morning Pippin woke up because he was feeling slightly cold. He reached for Boromir and his eyes snapped open when he felt nothing. He sat up yawned and stretched, scratching his head sleepily. He could not remember a better sleep. Boromir’s grinning face swam into view. “Rise and shine Pippin, it is time to break our fast.” He said ruffling Pippin’s unruly, sleep tangled hair. Merry was already up. In fact he was the first up for one reason. “Frodo! I got you Breakfast!” Frodo smiled at his cousin, “Thank you very much Merry, it looks great!” he said taking it from him. Sam scowled, Merry smirked. He just loved competing in any form. He was used to always beating Pippin, but Sam, he did not know about Sam as well. “Very sly Mer.” Said Pippin strolling up with Boromir, “If you ever need any help I’ll be right here to offer any advice.” “You? Offering any advice? On love? Ha! Don’t you remember Pip, I was always the heartthrob of the Shire not you. You where the pesky baby cousin remember?” Pippin decided to play along with the age-old argument. “I’m not a baby Merry.” And he pouted. Merry laughed. They all sat down to Breakfast, Pippin and Merry as usual where stuffing themselves with as much food as they could. And Boromir managed to sneak them more when he could. Soon it was time to start off again. Pippin after his good night’s rest, wanted a piggyback ride from anyone that would give him one. Boromir offered himself a few times but Pippin insisted that he had way to much stuff to carry as it was so he dashed from one Fellowship member to another. Merry was following Frodo and was just about to engage him in a dodgy convosation. “So Frodo, used that ring much, does it hurt when you have to put it on?” “Merry, I am unsure what you are talking about. I don’t like having to put the ring on.” Merry sniggered, ‘Virgin.’ He thought to himself. “Well… let’s put it this way,” He was rudely interrupted by Pippin leaping onto his back snapping his heels into Merry’s side and shouting, ”High Ho Merry!” “Ahhhh!” and Merry feel flat on his face. Pippin giggled nervously sitting on Merry’s back, at the deadly glare Merry was giving him, sprawled on his belly tapping his fingers. Pippin giggled again and removed himself. Merry dusted himself off. Frodo was trying hard not to crack up. “That was not funny Pip, you could have crushed poor Merry’s back, and then what would I do?” Merry looked astounded at what Frodo had just said. Frodo then winked and turned away calling for Sam to give him a hand. Merry blushed and he looked amazed. “Thank you soo much Pippin.” He said, hugging his cousin. “No, thank you Merry.” Replied Pippin. “No you, thanks so much for almost breaking my back.” “No you, thanks soo much for nearly breaking my pride.” “You.” “No you.” “I say thank you very much Pip, good day!” “No I say…” “I said, good day…” “Damnit you always do that Mer!” They walked on through the terrain, always keeping the Misty Mountains to their left and following them in a fairly straight line south. Soon they came to a stream. This stream flowed down from the top of one of the highest peaks of the mountain range where there was some spare ice covering the slopes. It was the first time since they had seen a source of water large enough to bathe in. “Gandalf, may we stop and have a bath here?” asked Pippin trotting up beside him, trying to keep up with the wizards large strides. “I do not think there is time for such things at this moment Peregrin.” “Oh I think it would be marvelous to have a wash.” Said Legolas, perking up and the mention of it. Pippin smirked as the rest of the Fellowship seemed to be all for it. “I would second that motion.” Said Boromir, grinning at Pippin. “And I!” said Merry smiling and giving Frodo a quick glance and a smile. Gandalf, looking out voted and exasperated said, “Let the Ring Bearer decide.” Frodo, catching the glance Merry had given him said, “Hell yeah! I can’t stand hanging round these stinky people anymore!” (actually he didn’t say that he said, “I should like a bath, it would be a good way to lift spirits among our company before continuing further.” ) “Then so be it.” They stopped by the banks of the stream and stripped off. Merry and Pippin where extremely excited about playing in the water. Brandybuck’s loved the water and swimming and Pippin had the good fortune of being able to swim having been taught by Merry and his other Brandybuck relatives as a youngster. Legolas was eager to clean the ‘grime’ from his body, which did not seem to exist. The other Fellowship members just wanted a chance to relax. The only member who did not seem enthusiastic about the idea was Sam, he was untrusty of the water and decided he would cook dinner for the Fellowship whilst they where washing. Merry was the first unchanged and he tore off towards the water Pippin in hot pursuit. He charged into the water, and was up to his knees before he yelled and came running back, Pippin had just reached the shore. “It’s too cold in there!” he shouted, “That has to be the coldest water I’ve every felt! I had no idea it water could get that cold!” Usually Merry found no water cold but this was the exception and if it was too cold for Merry it was too cold for anyone. Gandalf smiled at the shivering Brandybuck and the disappointed hobbits. “Perhaps I could be of some assistance.” He stuck his staff into the river and murmured some secret phrases in the tongue of the Istari. The water began to steam and soon the entire river was magically warmed to a bath temperature, which gained the approval of Master Brandybuck as he leapt into the very center of the river creating a huge splash, impressive to the hobbits. “Wow Merry! That was huge!” grinned Pippin preparing to dive in also. He did and was greeted by the deliciously warm water; he was in instant gratitude to Gandalf for his thoughtfulness. He popped up beside Merry. “Not bad Pip, a little more technique and you’ll have huge waves!” They where interrupted by Boromir and Aragorn chuckling as they watched the antics of Merry and Pippin, sitting in the river together. “You hobbits think those puny little ripples where impressive?” question Boromir. “Huh? Just cause you’re bigger than us doesn’t mean your splashes will be, size isn’t everything it’s the technique.” Said Merry. “I think they just challenged us Boromir.” Said Aragorn turning to Boromir with a smile. “Really? That was the impression I got too.” “Well,” said Pippin, eager to see the splash of two fully grown men, “why don’t you show us then?” “Very well, now don’t blame me for any grievances that may come of it.” Said Boromir. “We won’t.” the two hobbits grinned in unison. Aragorn shrugged and they both got up. The walked a few meters up the hill. “1 2 3!” they ran down the hill and leapt. The resulting splash was soooo huge the a good deal of the water was splashed out onto the sides of the river, “Ahhhhhh!” yelled Merry and Pippin having a huge wave come crashing down onto them. The water tumbled them head over heels in the river. Legolas shrieked and looked slightly put off that his hair was rinsed of shampoo prematurely. Frodo was laughing so much he was crying and Gimli was gwafing in deep manly tones. “Bleerrg!” Pippin’s head reappeared above the water spitting out water as it began to settle down. He paddled around a bit watching Merry reappear beside him also hacking. Pippin grinned. Merry turned to Pippin after looking around confusedly. “Where’s Aragorn and Boromir?” Pippin had only a second to think about this potentially dangerous situation before, “Boo!” Boromir and Aragorn appeared before them and dunked them. Merry struggled to surface his curly head held down for a few seconds before he was allowed to resurface. The first thing he saw was the grinning face of Aragorn. It was an impulse decision. He splashed the warm water into Aragorn’s face. He did not know that he had just instigated a full scale splashing war. The area rang with shouts of glee as the war between the hobbits and the men began. Frodo joined in to assist his cousins and Legolas even joined in towards the end to pay Aragorn and Boromir back for the splashing on his hair. Soon Aragorn and Boromir had their hands over their heads, as the attack was just too much for them. It was then that Sam called them that dinner was ready. With a few quiet giggles the soaking Fellowship dried themselves off and sat down to eat their meal of potatoes, tomatoes and a few sides of bacon. TBC Title: Blackmailed Love 5/? Author: Balrog Pimp (aka The Pipster) Email: lee_saiyan_queen@hotmail.com Pairing: Boromir/Pippin, Frodo/Merry Rating: N-17 Summary: As for Part 1 Disclaimer: The usual... Author's Note: Contains sex scenes but nothing too graphic I don't think... “Ahhhh! This has to be the best day I’ve had in a while!” sighed Frodo, stretching out on the ground. He was full and warm and contented after the swim he had taken and nothing could have made it better. That was until Merry came up. “Hey, Frodo, you want me to give you a back massage?” Frodo sighed and looked into his cousin’s eyes. “That has to be the nicest thing to offer me on this whole trip; thank you very much.” “Oh no Frodo, I could do nicer things. Much nicer.” Frodo continued to look up into Merry’s eyes. His blue eyes were clear and were striking against the reddish-pinks of the setting sun. His usually sunflower golden hair had a coppery hue Frodo had never noticed before in his cousin. And his smile: that wickedly cheerful smile which told you he was joking, that had a permanent spot on those perfect red lips, was… gone. He was smiling, yes, but this smile was different. Merry was not joking; he was being serious this time. Frodo contemplated this scene; it felt like hours but was only a couple of seconds. This moment was like a capture of heaven, and to Frodo it seemed there was no way to describe his cousin Meriadoc other than that he was simply beautiful. Frodo had a sudden desire for his cousin... he wanted to kiss him, but he managed to catch his self and left Merry with five simple words. “Be nice to me, Merry.” Then he rolled over and allowed Merry to not only give him his massage but to ponder what had just passed between them in those fleeting yet seemingly eternal seconds. Pippin sat down and stretched out his legs, watching the shadows deepen and lengthen in the approaching darkness. He huffed, having eaten a bit too much, and looked about the Fellowship. Gimli was still chewing thoughtfully on a piece of salted meat. Strider was sitting down, doing much the same as Pippin was except smoking with Gandalf. Legolas had disappeared somewhere; Pippin suspected to go hug some trees. And Boromir was sitting on a largish boulder, chewing up the ground with the point of his sword. Pippin turned his head to gaze behind him. He squinted into the sunlight and saw what looked to be like the silhouette of Merry giving a half-asleep Frodo a back massage. Pippin quickly scanned for Sam who was not far off, but was sleeping with his back propped up against a rock. Good for Merry. Merry had always loved Frodo, as he did Pippin and all his other cousins, but his affections for his handsome cousin had grown since the trip to Bree. Having lived in Buckland all his life, Merry never really got to see much of Frodo up in Hobbiton, and when that happened it was nearly always a full family affair. Pippin smiled again as memories of carefree days in the Shire floated to the surface of his mind: memories of parties and beer, laughing with his cousins, playing in Bywater as a child, Farmer Maggot and his dogs. Once again that last day he had spent in the Shire, without knowing fear, took precedence in his mind. It had been chilly and slightly overcast, a typical Autumn day, just he and his cousin looking for a bit of fun. Pippin suddenly discovered that he was bored. Fun memories triggered him to become more playful and the center of his playful attentions was the man who was absent-mindedly still smashing the dirt up with his sword. Pippin got up and walked away a bit, plastering the classic ‘don’t look at me I’m not up to any mischief’ look on his face as he walked behind Boromir. With a run and a leap he lunged onto Boromir’s back, earning a yell of surprise as Pippin scrambled up the man's back to settle himself on his shoulders, placing two hands over Boromir’s eyes. The peace was instantly interrupted as Gandalf, Aragorn and Gimli looked up. They smiled to see the cheery face of Pippin grinning at them, resting his chin on Boromir’s head, his hands over the man's eyes indicating them to be quiet. They went back to their peace. “Oi! Who’s that? Pippin?” Boromir asked, turning his head this way and that. Pippin tried hard not to giggle and give himself away, as Boromir was right on the mark. “Pippin, I know it’s you?” he said with a hint of doubtfulness in his voice, he had thought... or hoped... the hobbit would give himself up by now. Pippin spoke, lowering his voice as much as he possibly could, “I ate your hobbit friend. I am No-Brain Ugly-Face; Chief Orc in this region.” Boromir tried hard to restrain himself from laughter and decided to play along. “Darn, I was hoping I could catch him tonight while he was sleeping and eat him myself. Was he tender and juicy, or was he tough and bitter?” Pippin shrieked in delight and uncovered Boromir’s eyes. Boromir only saw a brief snatch of light before two arms swooped around his head, hugging him dearly. He laughed at the hobbit’s generous love and the happiness he was displaying. Then Pippin settled back and said, “You wouldn’t really eat me would you Boromir?” “I don’t know. I’ve been tempted I must say.” Pippin chuckled again, his chin once again resting on Boromir’s head, his legs swinging over his shoulders. Boromir’s brow wrinkled as his eyes rose to smile apon the grinning face he saw there. Pippin’s eyes fell to the dirt in front of Boromir’s feet. “What have you been doing Boromir, breaking up perfectly good soil? You really are an Orc! So much for Boromir the Benevolent, more like Boromir the Brute!” he giggled cheekily. “You’d better watch yourself young Master. Did you not learn the lesson I gave you last night?” Pippin frowned, “That reminds me. I still have not paid you back for that one, Boromir the Brute!” Before Boromir could say anything, Pippin had slipped down, past the open buttons at the top, and into Boromir’s shirt, pushing him off the rock onto the ground. An “oooff” escaped Boromir’s lips, which was soon replaced with small rumblings of laughter, a prelude to the booming gales which followed under Pippin’s relentless attack. Pippin could feel Boromir’s chest heave and shudder at his touch. The hobbit was enjoying listening to that full lovely laugh so much that he had almost forgotten what a beautiful body he was tormenting. While under that shirt, Pippin discovered that Boromir was exceptionally ticklish on his lower ribs, and if he dug his fingers deeply into those flanks and tickled really fast the resounding effect was enormous. The huge man was practically squeaking, bucking and almost crushing Pippin in an effort to get away from his deft fingers. “Mercy! Mercy, Pippin; I’m sorry! Ahhhh! Someone help! This hobbit has goneee…. No! CRAZY!!!” Pippin grinned at the result he was getting, but he had never imagined it to this extent. Boromir was at his complete mercy. Soon a new voice was heard, “Right; that’s it, Pippin, you’ve had your fun.” It was Strider. A large shadow descended and Pippin felt two hands grab him. He stopped tickling. Boromir’s hysterical laughter calmed down and gave way to extreme panting; large breaths came thick and fast, and Pippin felt it like an earthquake. The hobbit was slowly lifted out of Boromir’s now steaming hot shirt. “Good grief, I don’t think Boromir would have survived that much longer! He is in a state.” Said Gandalf, who had obviously come to assist the Steward's Son as well. Boromir was still lying on the ground breathing heavily, red in the face, eyes wet with tears. A permanent grin was stuck to his face, which was obviously paining him, but which he could not remove. The poor man did not look like he was going to be moving or getting up in a while. “I am not sure he isn’t dead Gandalf. Boromir picked a fight with the wrong hobbit. Pippin proved to be a worthy adversary. I don’t think Boromir will try getting him fired up anytime soon.” Said Aragorn grinning down at both Pippin at his side and Boromir at his feet. “Aye, the Steward of Gondor has learned his lesson. He will rue the day if ever the hobbits make war on the men of Gondor.” Chuckled Gimli, who had been enjoying the spectacle from a distance. “I think… I will just... stay here…” said Boromir slowly, speaking up but still not moving. Aragorn and Gimli laughed again and then decided that it was indeed time to settle down. Gandalf appointed himself for watch. Legolas returned from his solitary wanderings. “What happened here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the still grinning, non-moving Boromir on the ground. “Pippin beat up on Boromir good.” Aragorn smiled. “That I did,” sighed Pippin, looking down at his object of admiration and love, “that I did…” Merry almost mistook the booming laughing of Boromir for rolls of thunder. Upon realizing what it really was he ignored it and returned his attentions to the hobbit still under his care. He felt a little bad for Sam... after all Sam was extremely careful and loving towards his Master... but why should Merry let go the only hobbit he’d ever truly loved? He was willing to share Frodo, even if Sam was not. He loved him dearly and could not go through life never having Frodo know that he cared. Frodo sighed a little and continued to sleep; Merry smiled and covered him up with a blanket. Around him the others where getting ready to turn in also. Merry lay down next to Frodo and fell asleep with his beloved in his arms. He was brought back to awareness by the feeling of someone laying tender, butterfly kisses upon his face, on his brow where his hair and fallen into his eyes, and around his chin and jawline. Merry pretended he was still asleep and allowed himself to be caressed. The kisses traveled down his nose and around the tip. It tickled and Merry fought the urge to sneeze… but failed. “Aaa…choo!” It was quiet thankfully. A quiet giggle answered him from somewhere above. Merry opened his eyes and looked into the loving face of Frodo. He grinned a sleeply lop-sided grin, running a hand through his hair a little sheepishly. “Um… sorry about that,” he tried. Frodo just smiled. “How do you do that?” he asked, his shadowed face merry and curious in the moonlight. “Do what?” asked Merry, puzzled at Frodo’s choice of question. “Be so cute.” Merry blushed, his face blending into the darkness which surrounded them. His eyes traveled down. “You’re doing it again. How?” asked Frodo, lifting Merry’s chin so their eyes could meet. “I guess it’s my curse.” He shrugged, grinning, then his eyes went misty as he tried to suppress a yawn. Suddenly, Merry felt a pair of hot lips touch his own yawning ones. Oh Gods! Lust took over what part of Merry’s sleepy brain that was working as he took this chance to quickly plunge his tongue into the depths of Frodo’s mouth. His arms clutched at his cousin's arms, hands running up to grip his shoulders. Frodo’s gasped at this sudden bold movement but the gasp quickly turned into moans as Merry deepened the kiss with fierce passion. Frodo soon discovered to his satisfaction that Merry was a greedy lover, giving all he had with a heated force. Merry’s fingers tangled in dark curls as Frodo began to kiss back, trying to out-do his cousin in power. Frodo’s lips crushed into Merry’s, making them swell up with the pressure. With hesitation they slowly untied themselves from each other to catch their breaths. There was a brief awkward moment filled with much giggling and blushing. “I thought you where half asleep Merry,” said Frodo, breaking the absence of communication. “So did I; I thought this was all a dream too good to be true.” Frodo grinned and leaned in for another kiss. “Not here, Frodo, perhaps we should seek a little more privacy?” “Lead the way, Merry,” replied Frodo, allowing Merry to help him to his feet. They walked off into the night and did not stop until they where certain they could not be seen and were well out of earshot. As soon as they found their desired location, Merry immediately whirled onto Frodo, kissing and pushing him down on the soft pine needles littering the ground. Frodo began to create a nest around his small frame to mark the place where they would consummate their love. As they kissed feverishly, Merry began to undo the buttons trailing down Frodo’s once white, now mud-covered, shirt. Frodo was unaware of this new development until Merry’s hot mouth left his to start licking a path down his neck onto his bare chest. He began to breath in hitched beats. The cold of the night air was magnified by the damp path Merry was cutting. “Oh… my… Merry… you…” Frodo managed. “Uhmmm?” Merry questioned, smirking, but not allowing himself to be distracted from the task at hand. His tongue swirled over the six hard abdominals that lined their way down Frodo’s abdomen, and his teeth grazed them as he began to nibble each one. Frodo’s back began to arch and he let out a series of little gasps and moans. “Oh God, Merry… you do not know of how you torture me so…” Merry reached for the well-pronounced bulge in Frodo’s breeches. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” he replied. He latched onto one of Frodo’s pert, hard nipples and began to suck at a rapid pace. At the same time he reached under Frodo’s arched back and began to massage his buttocks, making slow paces between his thighs to which Frodo let out an aggravated groan of frustration. “Then why do you insist on torturing me so?” Merry grinned. Frodo was experiencing both heaven and hell at once. He knew; he had been there several times himself. The hobbit stopped his treatment abruptly. “Ahuh?” asked Frodo, his eyes widening and looking ready to murder the Brandybuck. “Never mind, Sweetness, I merely realized how inappropriately we are both dressed, if you take my meaning?” He replied calmly. Frodo ‘took his meaning’ straight away and quickly began to pull impatiently at Merry’s clothes, fumbling in his need to see his beloved in all his magnificent glory. Merry laughed at the growls of anger as Frodo’s fingers slipped again and again at a last button on his shirt. “Whoever invented buttons should be hung on the rack for twenty-nine years and have their foot hairs pulled until they plead for death!” he cried. “Settle Petal.” Said Merry. And Frodo looked up, annoyed at Merry’s calm, juvenile silliness at a time like this. “Allow me to help you.” He took Frodo’s hand in his own and slowly undid his own clothing until there was nothing left to undo, much to the relief of his cousin, who sighed when the stress to his disobedient fingers was over. Then Merry, still taking Frodo’s fingers, undid his lover's pants, until he was left in much the same state as Merry, and there was a small pile of dirty clothes in the corner. Now that they where both undressed, Frodo no longer felt the vulnerability of being at his younger cousin’s mercy. A small smile crossed his face as he reached for Merry’s hair. Twirling it, he said slowly, in a tone which only caused Merry to shudder at the erotic fantasies playing at hyper speed in his head, “That was mean cousin; what you did to me.” Merry managed to whisper, “Really? I thought you quite enjoyed it.” Frodo smirked. His other hand quickly grasped Merry’s swollen hobbithood, making his gasp and grab at the hand that was still playing in his hair. “Enjoy this,” said Frodo, setting up a gentle rhythm over Merry’s shaft. Frodo’s hands where warm with sweat and this worked to his advantage, as Merry was brought to near climax faster than it normally would have taken. Frodo curled his hand softly over the tense organ and ran it up and and down, squeezing it gently along the way. Merry could not think, his arms could barely prop himself up, and all he could see was Frodo... a dangerous masterful glint in his eye. When the first droplets of precum began to seep out of the slit, Frodo bent to lick lavishly on the tip. Merry’s eyes bulged and he wriggled his hips, wanting to feel the delicious heat of his lover's tongue surrounding his entire hobbithood. But when Merry was clean, Frodo pulled away to set up the rhythm on his cock again. “Bastard! Fucking tease! And all other curses under the sun to you Frodo Baggins!” he roared. “Merry! Why are you calling me names? I have done nothing to hurt or offend you, have I? What’s the matter?” said Frodo, carefully placing a concerned expression on his face; not that Merry would have noticed anyway as his eyes where firmly squeezed shut. “You know darn well what the matter is!” he growled. Frodo smiled. “Then tell me what you want me to do about it.” “I want my cock in your mouth, to be blunt, and don’t you go acting all affronted at that! That is the answer you’ve been waiting for, is it not?!” “Yes... it is.” Merry opened his eyes in surprise at that answer then yelped as he felt his whole being wrapped up in that warmth. Each heated breath from Frodo’s throat enveloped him in a cocoon of heavenly bliss, and he could not even begin to describe what that tongue was doing to his body and mind. Merry’s voice was choked in his throat and his mouth was agape in an expression that could have been confused with intense agony. His eyes where wide open and he could feel his pulse beating in every nerve of his body, tingling with heat and want. A strangled cough managed to escape his throat; Frodo seemed to laugh around him, making the sweet torture even more unbearable but at the same time shaking him out of his burning hot daze. With a roar he removed himself from the tormenting mouth and lunged at the smaller, surprised hobbit. He quickly grasped Frodo’s legs and threw them over his shoulders. Baggins let out a feral growl and his eyes darkened which only served to excite Merry further, who settled himself between Frodo’s upraised legs. He gave a quick look to the lusty hobbit before him and decideded that his cousin wanted this as much as he did; so, without further, hesitation he thrust himself into the tight enclosed space. Frodo yelped in pain, and a trickle of blood welled up around Merry’s being. The domineering one took a finger and cleared away the blood from the cut, sucking on the tip of his finger, tasting his lover’s life giving fluid. Blue eyes watched the action and he immediately set up a thrusting action against his cousin. Merry hissed at the sudden sensation and, feeling a sudden need to be in control of the situation, he grasped Frodo’s hips firmly. Panting, sweat trickling down his nose, he set up his own rhythm to match his dark haired partner. Slowly he began, trying to get his cousin accustomed to this ‘new’ experience; but with each new thrust Merry slowly discovered that Frodo was clearly more experienced than he had first given him credit for... this becoming apparent with each moan and movement that Frodo followed him with. Soon it became more of an equal experience with both blond and brunet bucking wildly against one another at a frenzied pace. Pant! Wheeze! Gasp! Moan! Cry! Growl! The blood was boiling. It seemed to Merry that he had to get further and further into his desired; to be inside him. Yelp! Whimper! Hiss! Grunt! Wail! Roar! Hearts beating so hard the very earth was pounding, and the air thick and warm like blood. More! More! More! More! More! More! With each slam, Merry hit Frodo’s most erogenous spot. With each cry from his beloved, the Brandybuck himself was brought back to near climax. Suddenly enough was enough. With a final cry of absolute ecstasy, Frodo shuddered and spilt his seed onto the chest of the other. The chain reaction was set. With the tightening of the muscles during his climax, Merry followed him in releasing his own seed deep into the depths of his lover. They collapsed and were still for a very long time… TBC Title: Blackmailed Love 6/? Author: Balrog Pimp (aka The Pipster) Email: lee_saiyan_queen@hotmail.com Pairings: Boromir/Pippin, Frodo/Merry Rating: PG13 Summary: As for Part 1 Disclaimer: The usual... Author's Note: Next part is finally up! Sorry I have been VERY busy... still am... *mutter mutter* Thanks go to my Beta Sam! Thank you sooo much for your great ideas and support and generally 'bettering' this fic! Feedback and compliments from Antoinette, thanks heaps for your vote of confidence! And of course my Hobbit- Buddy Merry! Thanks for accepting my insanity and constent pestering to write more! With that said, on we go! Pippin had not left Boromir last night. It had become second nature to him to curl up to the big 'blanket', and he felt it peculiar to leave him alone. Merry was serving breakfast with a large cheery smile on his face and offered Pippin the last of the fried potatoes; something he often didn't do, as he was rather partial to potatoes and liked to give himself the largest helping. "Thanks Merry!" grinned the Took up at his cousin. Merry smiled in reply. "No problem." As Merry wandered off, Pippin wondered what got his cousin in such a good mood and decided to ask him alone when the next opportunity presented itself, which incidentally didn't happen that long afterwards. More firewood needed gathering for this evening in a location where there was sure to be hardly any of the dry wood they could find here, and young Took volunteered himself and his Brandybuck cousin to go. As Merry bent over, grabbing at some choice faggots littering the ground encircling a small band of withered old trees, Pippin came out with it. "You're happy Merry. You gave me your potatoes." "Yes Pippin, I'm glad we've established that. See I'm smiling," he said and gave him an exaggerated smile. "Yes, silly, I can see that you know; but why?" Merry sighed knowing that Pippin would understand, and probably have totally expected what he was going to say, but for some odd reason he wanted to protect him. "Never mind your silly head about such things, Kooky Tooky. Since when has a hobbit needed an excuse to be happy on a fine morning? Let's get back to the others with these sticks, they'll be waiting for us," he finished, ending the conversation and cuffing his cousin playfully upside of the head. Pippin sighed confusedly and followed after him. As soon as the Fellowship had finished breakfast and packed up, they started off again on their long journey South. It looked to Pippin like another hard day of trudging endlessly through the great expanses of Middle-Earth. And indeed it was, but more so for Frodo who seemed to be having an extra hard time with his backpack. Each time he took a step, a sharp object in the pack would stab him sharply in his back: his back being bruised by the exceptional activity, which had proceeded to go down the night before. This drew concern from Samwise who, as always, was carefully monitoring his master's moves and from Merry, who seemed slightly more on edge than he had that morning. Sam sidled up to Mr. Frodo and gave him a small smile. Frodo smiled back which was followed by a tiny wince. Sam frowned. "Mr. Frodo, something's ailin' you sir, if I'm not mistaken, and making no criticism if alin' you aren't sir..." he started slowly. "Please, Sir, if there's anything I can do?" at the pause Sam ventured to make an offer, "could I take your bag Mr. Frodo?" Frodo smiled affectionately but looked stern. "No Sam. You're carrying enough as it is, more than your share. You need not carry the weight of gear which is not your own. I thank you but I will manage." At this Sam let a grave expression inhabit his face. "Mr. Frodo, there's no one here who carries a larger burden than you. For you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders sir, and I would like, if I may, very much to relieve you of your backpack." Sam was resolute and his face showed a marked determination. Frodo had never seen this before in his servant and it surprised him. At this he relented and he smiled. "Very well, Sam, I can see you cannot be swayed in this matter. Relieve me of my pack, if you must. You are a good friend to me, Sam." He paused and lifted the pack to slip off his shoulders, in the process lifting up the corner of his shirt, also revealing large purple-blue blotches on his lower back. Sam froze and his blood ran chill. He forgot to grab the bag as it fell to the ground, instead taking the untucked shirt and lifting it up to inspect the marks. "Sam! What are you doing?" snapped Frodo, whirling around and slapping at Sam's hands. Sam was unapologetic. "What's going on, Mr. Frodo? Is this what's been hurtin? Why couldn't you tell your Sam, Mr. Frodo, why? Did somebody hurt you?" The questions flew swiftly from the gardener's lips in hushed tones. "Sam, it is not your right to know what's going on. In fact..." He was interrupted by Sam; something that had never happened before and shocked him once again into silence. "Yes it is my right to know, Sir, and the right of the rest of the Fellowship! If there's something up then it must be dealt with; this mission cannot afford to fail in lieu of a few secrets!" Frodo scowled and turned to walk away from Sam without another word. Sam grabbed him and begged. "Please, Frodo. Have I not ever served you? I am worried about you, Sir, I am. Take me not for a meddler, Sir, I'm pleadin', I just need to know if you're okay." Frodo's eyes softened slightly, and he opened his mouth as if to answer; at that moment Merry came running up. "Come on, Frodo. You're slowing us down, Sam," he said nodding to them both and looking pointedly at Sam's master. "Thank you, Meriadoc. Sam was just taking my bag from me, weren't you, Sam," said Frodo, glancing at the ground where the bag still lay. "Come, let us return to the others," said Merry, and he led Frodo quickly away, leaving Sam to stoop and pick up the bag. As Sam hurried to catch up to Aragorn and Gandalf, he tried to make sense of Frodo, the bruises, and the look that Merry had given his master when he had rather speedily taken Frodo from him. Sam fumed at the sudden realization. Merry would pay for this attack on his master. That night Boromir looked at the clear sky, watching the stars slowly dot the misty blue-black. It was getting slightly chilly and the wind was picking up as their altitude increased. From his position on a fallen log, he silently observed the others preparing for sleep. Some hours into his watch, nothing out of the ordinary, Boromir heard a voice say quietly behind him, "Can I join you?" Boromir jumped a little but had no objections to sharing his quiet with his favorite little hobbit, Pippin, at his side. Pippin smiled warmly as Boromir shuffled over to offer him a seat next to him, and he pulled the little blanket he was holding tightly around him. Looking skyward, he muttered in an almost apologetic tone, "I couldn't sleep." Boromir murmured a little in response. Encouraged, Pippin continued, "I find it hard to drift off; it's very cold here in the wilderness. I'm not used to braving the wilds as all you seem to do quite easily." "It is warm where you come from then?" inquired Boromir. "Warmer than this, even in the winter. I guess hobbits just weren't made for these sorts of places," he confessed, a hint of gloominess in his voice. "Tell me about the Shire." Boromir thought it best to take the Little One's mind of such depressing thoughts. "Well it's warm for one thing," emphasized Pippin, "small, quiet and safe...." Boromir and Pippin talked for what seemed like hours: first about the Shire, then about Pippin's family and his many extended relations, followed by hobbits in general. Now Pippin had excitedly begun telling Boromir another humorous tale about he and his cousin Merry. "When I was young and Merry was just entering his tweens, there was this trend at the time that all the hobbit tweenagers thought that it was the 'in thing' to have your foot hair's ridiculously long and straight; so Merry thought he just had to have them. Me being only 15 at the time didn't understand why Merry felt he had to do such a thing; he looked like an ass! But he told me that all the hobbit lasses thought it was cool and that I would understand when I became a big tweenager and started liking girls and all that stuff that tweenagers do, so...' "I'm sorry, 'tweenagers'?" Boromir interrupted. "Yeah, you know: the time between being a child and your coming of age? Adolescent? You become a tweenager?" said Pippin as though speaking to a young child. Then puzzled, he said "you mean Men don't go through that stage at all and go straight from and child to an adult. Gosh, that's pretty weird I mean..." "No, no! Of course we have adolescent years just as all people of Middle Earth; we just mature a lot faster, that is all. We come of age at 20 and are adolescents during our teens: teenagers," said Boromir, quickly explaining before Pippin got the wrong impression. "Ohhhh..." said Pippin turning this new information over in his head. Then he raced on again. "So anyway, Merry and I where walking down this road, and there are some pretty hobbit girls walking up on the other side. So Merry starts strutting his stuff, displaying his 'cool' foot-hair and the girls are all doing that silly girly giggling stuff..." Boromir laughed a bit at this. "And then just as they are about to walk up and talk to Merry, he trips up on his stupid foot-hair and lands flat on his face. Of course all the lasses don't want to talk to Merry anymore and walk off laughing. I felt kinda bad, but it was pretty funny. Because of that Merry went out of his way to be different from other hobbits his age, and he's been like that ever since! A real oddball and worthy of the Brandybuck name! And I love him just the way he is, and I'm glad he doesn't go round pretending he's something that he's not anymore." "A valuable and important lesson, Little One, unfortunately one that your cousin learnt the hard way." agreed Boromir. There was a silence that followed, which stretched for a moment or two before Pippin suddenly blurted out "Boromir, can I see your foot?" "Excuse me?" Pippin blushed slightly and decided it would be a good idea to explain himself. "Well, as you probably would have noticed by now, hobbits don't wear shoes and well... our feet have adapted to that. I was thinking about Merry and that foot-hair story, and I just realized that maybe because Men and Dwarves and Elves wear shoes their feet might look any different to ours." Boromir grinned a little at this, and Pippin overcame his embarrassment quickly. "A perfectly acceptable question, Peregrin; forgive me if I seemed a little taken aback at first." With that Boromir began to pull away at one of his boots; Pippin watching intently. It soon slipped off and before Boromir could support himself, Pippin had snatched up his foot and began to study it with great interest. He found that it was very clean, soft and tender; the pale skin glowed under the moonlight. Suddenly the hobbit felt completely uncivilized upon comparing his large, hairy, hard, leathery foot to the delicate one he found that the Man possessed. Boromir's foot was roughly the same size as Pippin's, and the Took found it strangely small and disproportionate to the rest of the giants' body. A small chuckle disturbed him from his scrutiny and brought his attention back to the man who was lying on the ground, calmly watching the hobbit's studious face, with apparent amusement. "When you've quite done with my foot Pip..." Pippin smiled and watched as Boromir replaced the boot. "That was amazing," he breathed, "I wonder if the feet of Dwarves and Elves are similar or more like a hobbit's?" "I wouldn't know the answer to that one Pippin," replied Boromir, his voice tinted with affection. He lay back down, hands comfortably behind his head. His small companion flopped down at his side. Pip could fell the heat radiating from Boromir's body; in the silence he could hear his heart beat steadily and his stomach whispered quietly from time to time. He could smell the Gondorian's unique musky scent. He breathed in deeply, pulling the comforting smell into the very depths of his heart, holding it, and then letting it go, feeling a deep inner peace settle on his soul to be in the presence of his special friend, and he sighed deeply. He kept fighting a childish urge to snuggle into Boromir's being and never let go. For the first time, Boromir broke the silence. "When I first encountered you halflings I was not altogether pleased about the idea of what seemed to be burdens that would only make the road harder and more difficult. In retrospect, having spent time with you incorrigible little mischief-makers, I have seen that you are indeed worthy and an asset to the group. If it weren't for you and your wonderful cousin, I believe the whole fellowship would have been driven to madness from over-seriousness." Boromir chuckled almost silently, "I am grateful for your presence, Peregrin. " He turned now to look down into Pippin's shining eyes, matching them with his own level gaze, "and no matter what you say about your adaptability to living out here in the open, I think you where made for these kind of journey's, Pippin." "Do you really mean that?" "Every word." "Boromir, I think I'm going to kiss you." Pippin leaned up and pressed his lips lightly onto Boromir's. His heart beat in his little chest, and he was so surprised by his own action, he didn't even worry about Boromir's reaction. Boromir, needless to say, was stunned and more than a little shocked by the hobbits impetuous nature. Yet he did not forsake his Little One, taking up one of his hands to gently cup the younger one's face, moving his lips slowly against his so as to not startle the little thing. Pippin sighed happily, glad that he was not to be shamed by the large man. Shyly, and almost curiously, he opened his lips to run his tongue across the man's surprisingly soft lips, tasting his exotic flavor. Boromir jerked a little in surprise and allowed the younger hobbit to do what he would. Opening his mouth a little, Boromir reached out his tongue to meet that of his Little One, and in that small chasm between their lips, the two souls passed the last frontier and met each other. With that first touch, Pippin hungrily threw his tongue into the depths of Boromir's mouth entwining his tongue in the big man's. The Gondorian groaned at the contact and the sweet taste of the hobbit, pulling his mouth closer to his own and nestling his lips into Pippin's. The kiss lasted a long time, each trying to savor the other to the last, trying to ingrain the memory of it for all eternity. At last Boromir pulled back with a sigh, allowing his small companion to catch his breath; at last Pippin's eyes rose to meet his and they where overflowing with love for him. Then a firm resolve flickered in the hobbit's eyes and the mischievous glint returned. "Come with me," he whispered and took the startled and delighted man by the hand and tugged him up. Boromir could see the little one's excitement quite blatantly and followed cheerily after him. They had just about passed the firelight when a voice caught them by surprise. "I suppose you'll want me to take over your shifts, Boromir and Pippin." Boromir and Pippin both whirled round to see the grinning face of Legolas; he was sitting up in bed by the side of the fire. "I presume you both won't be coming back tonight." Boromir growled and strolled forward a bit. "Alright, how much do you know elf?" "Not so much that I know as to what I couldn't help knowing. You two are not very sly." Legolas smiled, but it was not an unkind smile. He meant no harm. Boromir returned the smile. "Thank you for your offer Legolas. I am most grateful; this deed shall not be forgotten." "Nor by me either!" Pippin piped up. Legolas waved, " A good night to both of you." TBC : ) Title: Blackmailed Love 7/7 Author: Balrog Pimp (aka The Pipster) Email: lee_saiyan_queen@hotmail.com Pairings: Boromir/Pippin, Frodo/Merry and even Sam included this time! Rating: N-17 definately Summary: The last chapter of Blackmailed Love sees the outcomes of crushes stated in Part 1. Disclaimer: The usual... Author's Note: I have finally finished my first LotR fic and my first slash fic ever! *sob* I got the hurry up from should I dare to say, fans? Obviously this has encouraged me in my writing endevours and I have them to thank for it, once again to Antoinette for her kind words and encouragement and also to fellow writer Pipkin Sweetgrass (check out her awesome stories at fanfiction.net)! As ever I can only lay most of the thanks on my spectacular Beta reader and friend, Sam, for setting time aside to help me with my writing, THANK YOU SOOO MUCH! And as always, thanks to you Merry for being my bestest hobbity-friend! I love you guys! Mwah! As soon as they were out of sight Pippin tore off; Boromir watched him go confusedly until the youthful hobbit twirled around to face him "Come on, Boromir, you old man! Come and run with me!" Boromir growled playfully, "You had best run young hobbit; you should learn not to tease!" And he began to run off after the little Hobbit. Pippin squeaked and ran. Boromir made no real effort to try and catch him. He was faster than the little hobbit any day. But soon he had him in a corner; thick brush grew between enormous trees and shrouded the entire clearing in a dark cloth of night. It was here that Boromir grabbed the Little One with one swoop of his large arms, swung him around before bearing him gently onto the ground. Pippin was still giggling with excitement from the chase and sighed when Boromir ceased his giggles with a gentle press of his lips to the hobbit's. Which followed with another to his slightly childlike upturned nose and another to his forehead, nuzzling the hobbits curled locks. Pippin snaked his arms around the Man's shoulders, gently massaging with delicate fingers. Boromir groaned as the hobbit worked out his pains, lovingly and thoroughly throughout the tight muscle. The Man buried his brow into the Took's chest almost purring in response to Pippin's caress, before lifting his head to nibble on his pointed ears. Pippin shuddered and let out the tiniest of squeaks as Boromir grazed his teeth over the shell-like spiral of the hobbit's ear and scraped his beard over his cheek. He could feel the small being's skin begin to bump up from the sensitive contact. Boromir laughed quietly as he scooped up the hobbit and rolled him over so that Pippin lay on top of his giant form. Pippin poked his tongue out at the man because of the silly grin he was giving him. Boromir looked mock offended; but as swift as ever the grin played back on his lips and he brought up another hand to fondle and rub the little hobbit's ear. The reaction was almost instantaneous: Pippin shuddered once again and closed his eyes with a moan, nudging his head into the palm of Boromir's hand, silently pleading for more contact. A pressure was mounting on the Gondorian's solar plexus that he couldn't ignore. He could not hide his small chuckle of amusement, which quickly broke Pip out of his blissful concentration. He elbowed Boromir sharply in the side; yet the Man laughed and replied with: "Am I right in saying that I've found one of your 'special spots' Peregrin?" Pippin looked disdainfully at him, "Don't 'special spot' me Boromir! I'm not a child and I know perfectly well what you're trying to say!" "I never thought for one moment you where a child, Peregrin!" said Boromir in defense, removing his hand from the now reddened ear. "That much is obvious from what I can gather here." he whispered as his hand stroked at the point of pressure on his stomach. "Aaaaahhh you... you." Pippin squirmed around as the hand continued to stroke him. "Yes?" Boromir inquired, a smirk forming on his handsome face. "You. YOU'RE JUST SOO ANNOYING!" he managed to gasp out. "Surely you don't mean that Peregrin?" "Damn you." said Pippin in a grievous voice, a secret smirk now forming on his face. "What have I done?" Boromir asked hesitantly. "What happened to you calling me Pippin?" asked Pippin, abruptly changing tone into his more familiar joyous notes and giving Boromir a small nip on the nose. "Ahhh! You little clown! You had me worried!" growled Boromir at the now laughing Pippin. "I know!" Pip replied, grinning from ear to ear as he straddled the man's torso. "I had no idea Men where so gullible!" "I can imagine your excitement; it must be a rare occurrence to find someone more so than you." The Man said seriously. There was a pause as Pippin thought over what Boromir had just said, before: "Hey! I am not!" He slapped at Boromir's hands as the man defended himself; laughing in glee at his desired reaction from the Hobbit. Pippin sat affronted as the man continued to laugh; but soon he couldn't help but to break into laughter himself at the silly way they where both behaving. Then he laid his head on Boromir's chuckling chest and wrapped his small arms around the Man's broad frame, waiting for the giggles to subside. "Ahhh my Mir." Pippin mumbled out. This stopped the laughter of the Man. "You speak Elvish?" he asked. "No." said Pippin, raising his voice a little, confused. "I'm pretty sure you do! Didn't you just call me 'Mir'?" The Tirithian asked. Pippin though back on it, he may have said 'Mir' accidentally instead of 'Boromir'. "Do you know what my name means, Pippin?" The hobbit looked up curiously, silently asking him to go on. "Boromir means 'Faithful Jewel' in the Elvish language." For the first time ever a blush seemed to creep onto his face, but due to this Boromir became even more endearing to Pippin. "So by calling you just 'Mir' I accidentally called you my Jewel." Pippin said softly. The other slowly nodded. A smile instantly charged onto Pippin's lips. "It makes sense!" he said. "You, after all, are my Jewel." "How is it that all these little one liner gem's just come rolling off your tongue, Pip?" Boromir sighed, eyes shinning brightly. "I don't know. but here's another gem that's about that about to come rolling off my tongue." he said pushing the Man flat on his back and capturing his lips in another soul twining kiss. It was silent and altogether too perfect; time seemed to stop for the two would-be lovers. Heaven seemed to surround and steal them away to its own eternal perfection. Pippin began to undo the clasps on Boromir's black leather jerkin, never pulling away as the heat from their passion melded their lips together. Boromir replied by sliding the thin white shirt from Pippin's pale shoulders. The curled hobbit hair fell lightly onto the Man's closed eyelids; the juices from each mouth shared in the caverns. Soon both Halfling and Human where shirtless and hands traveled to more erotic areas to help each other with the removing of their clothing. Cords where untied and breeches where unclasped from suspenders. Before they even realized it, both Hobbit and Man lay naked one on top of the other, continuing their soul-searing kiss. Pippin trailed fingers down the smooth, muscular frame of the man's body; feeling out the scar that he had almost forgotten was there, remembering immediately the embarrassment he had first felt when offered the touch. It seemed dreamlike now, as though it had never really happened, his old Boromir-infatuated self was dying; his new Boromir's-lover self was emerging. He fisted his fingers in the curled sandy hair he found on his chest, so different and foreign to his own. Boromir's beard continued to rub against his own naked cheek, almost tickling and making a nerve on the roof of his mouth tingle. Boromir meanwhile began his investigation of the Little Ones body. He was obviously a lot smaller than he and the man was very much aware of his need to remain gentle with the hobbit. He had a lithe body, though to the Man's surprise, the chest was covered in a light downy covering of woolly like hair; his tiny body was pale and delicate, almost elven and indescribably smooth. He found Pip was particularly sensitive on the small of his back; his rough, callused fingers drew little circles on this spot, causing the young one to shiver and wriggle deliciously over his body. Boromir ran his palms over the hobbit's back, stopping at his bum to gently clasp the tight globules there. Pippin groaned slightly into his mouth and ran his arms over Boromir's arms and shoulders, never breaking the kiss. Boromir lifted one hand and gently felt the small Hobbit's length; Pippin breathed in sharply. The Man could feel the Hobbit's precum beginning to pool on his abdomen and his lathered his fingers in it. Then he lowered his hand back to the Little One's rear and parted the cheeks slowly. It was then that he broke the kiss. Pippin's eyes looked curiously into the Man's face for an answer as to why their bond was just broken. "Do you want this?" the Man asked. Pippin's face took on an expression of severe solemnity. "Yes." He answered. Then with a small gulp Pippin added, "I. I've never done this before. with anyone." his voice was quaking slightly and Boromir looked up sharply, but was surprised to find. not tears of fear in the Hobbit's eyes, slight fear, yes, of apprehension of what was about to come next. but tears of joy. Still the large man was taken aback by what he had just heard and definitely unnerved. His dear little Pippin had never been loved before like this. He hesitated as a strange sense of wrongdoing invaded Boromir's heart; but just as quickly his thought and hesitation was pushed away as Pippin said: "I love you Boromir." Boromir looked up into the hobbit's beautiful face, it glowed with the light of Eru, and complete trust and everlasting love shone forth. With that Boromir reached up and kissed Pippin gently on the lips and his finger pushed gently at the tight opening. "This may hurt a little." Boromir warned gently. Pippin bit down on his lip slightly, bracing himself. Boromir wriggled his finger and pushed in suddenly, made easier by his slickened finger. Pippin whimpered slightly as the man's thick digit began to worm its way deeper; feeling for something deep within Pippin's tight little body. The Hobbit was shaking and sweat was beading on his forehead. Boromir's other hand came up to caress his Little One's face, "Try to relax, my love." Boromir began to rub gently at Pippin's lower back to ease his discomfort with such care that Pippin began to cry a little, thinking after all those nights: his dreams where finally coming true. He wished only that he would not show such weakness towards the man's incredible love and kindness. Boromir kissed Pippin's brow once again and merely said, 'Don't feel bad, Pippin." The hand came once again to dry his tears, "I love you." Pippin sighed and relaxed completely. Suddenly Boromir found the bump he was looking for; he teased it gently with his fingernail. Pippin hissed immediately, a very un-hobbitish guttural cry escaping his lips as his back arched and writhed against Boromir's strong form, his erection hardening rapidly. "Found it." Boromir laughed out loud, breaking the intense atmosphere that had fallen in the air. Pippin even managed a tiny giggle as he clawed at Boromir with blunt nails and squirmed violently all over his body. "What. are. you. doing. to me!" he gasped hoarsely. "Ohhh I just found another one of your 'special spots' that's all." He grinned. "Boooorooomir." The Took groaned bucking from the uncomfortable but definitely not unpleasant sensations he was receiving. It was then that Boromir held the small hobbit down long enough for him to fit in another one of his 'over-sized' fingers, which joined the former to begin a rhythmic rub over the heated organ just on the other side. Pippin yelped sharply, and with a final spasm he lost himself and lay completely sated over Boromir, panting breathlessly, the locks on his brow clinging feverishly to his skin. Boromir could feel the hot liquid trickle down his hip onto the mossy ground. Suddenly Pippin pushed himself up; his white skin shimmered from the sweat that now finely coated him, his eyes where still incredibly green and bright. Without another word he took to his hands his own seed and washed it all over his hands; his eyes fixed to Boromir's face he began to coat the Man in his cum. Boromir moaned as the Halfling expertly massaged his length and balls, raising a hand briefly in mischief to tickle at the man's tightened stomach. It was hot and very intimate moment between the two; their love lit the forest as if it were high noon. Just as the Man was beginning to feel a white heat flow in waves across his body, Pippin stopped. He looked up in wonderment at Pippin; how could he ever think of him as his 'Little One' ever again? The hobbit inclined his head once more to meet his lips with Boromir's and they shared another brief but loving kiss. Then Pippin took the man's face in his hair and pressed his brow and nose into the others, nothing existed except each other, the Gondorian wondered if this was some strange but incredible Hobbit custom while in the midst of making love. He did not ask. Then Pippin whispered, inches from Boromir's mouth. "Finish it, my Beloved Boro Mir." Boromir sat up and gently laid Pip over his legs so that they could still see each other, the Man's soft, hairless feet could cushion Pippin's head. Boromir took the Hobbit's hips firmly and with a brief glance at the face of the one whom he loved, he quickly pulled Pippin down onto his member so as to lessen his pain. There was a small squeal of tremendous discomfort from the younger one, before a sigh as he began to relax himself around the organ that seemed to be filling him so completely he could almost feel him at the back of his throat. Boromir grunted and panted as he tried to come back to himself; white dots had exploded in front of his eyes as he was squeezed in Pippin's tight space. "Alright Boromir?" asked Pippin, smiling slightly. The Tirithian grinned weakly at the jest; marveling at just how quickly the Took was becoming used to this experience. He pulled out slightly and then pushed back in, Pippin groaned in ecstasy at the slow sensual way Boromir was utterly loving him. The Man's thick member, slipped against Pippin's organ, made easier by the help of the Hobbit's own cum. Pip shivered as he felt the contact Boromir was making with him and he groaned, closing his eyes to totally immerse himself in the waves of pleasure coursing his body. Boromir increased the strength of his thrusts slightly, to bring to his Beloved just what he wanted. Pippin began to pant out, almost like a mantra, his lover's name: "Boromir.Boromir.Boromir." Each repetition slightly higher pitched than the first. Pip's small hands slipped against Boromir's thighs, looking for something to grasp as he neared his climax; his fingers accidentally massaging Boromir as each thrust followed. Boromir never took his eyes off the angel that lay before him. What had he done to deserve such a perfect love as this little creature, Pippin Took? His body bristled with heat as Pippin's body throbbed around him bringing him nearer to his own completion. Taking his hands off the Hobbit's hips, he clasped his hands in Pippin's, pulling himself down into Pippin more efficiently. Pippin's eyes flew open and he began to gasp out his love for Boromir: "Hnnnn Boromir!" "Aiiii Pippin." A shudder flew through the smaller being's frame and he came just as Boromir came himself, toppling them head over heels through heaven and then firmly, almost suddenly, back to Earth. As Pippin began to slowly unwind himself from his orgasmic afterglow, he noticed that Boromir was no longer inside him, but was lying beside him with his arms wrapped around him looking into his face, a blissful smile gracing his fair features. He also noticed that their garments where strewn over them in a higgildy-piggidly fashion. The man was evidently too exhausted to sort out any real bedding, but he could hardly be blamed; Pippin was astonished he managed at all! He sighed, "You are clever." Boromir grunted and Pippin looked down to see the Man resting his large head on his own small chest, eyes glazed over, half closed. "Suppose that took all the energy out of you didn't it?" "Uh hmm." The man said even more quietly. "You're pathetic!" Pippin giggled. Boromir's eyes flew up to Pippin's face, saw the clowning grin on there and tried a tired little giggle himself. Pippin smiled fondly, playing absent-mindedly with Boromir's golden-red locks. "Men." he sighed. Looking down at Boromir's face he found that his eyes where closed and he was breathing deeply in his slumber. ".you'd think he was a little child." He continued, sighing he added, "but I do love you." "I love you too." a little murmur came from the supposedly sleeping Man, curled up to the little Hobbit's chest. It was early next morning as Merry was down at the river alone, getting water to boil some potatoes for their breakfast. He hummed to himself slightly, enjoying his solitude as it gave him chance to ponder the disappearance of his cousin and the large Man of Gondor. Soon the others would also notice this change, but for now the others all lay in slumber still. Unawares, as he bent down to fill his can with water; a very angry shadow followed him. Suddenly the young hobbit turned sharply as he felt the malevolent force behind him. "Oh, Sam! It's just you!" Merry breathed in relief, "Come to help me with the water collecting this morning?" "No, Mister Merry," Sam hissed through clenched teeth, practically seething, "I've come to have a little chat actually." Merry took a step back, puzzlement littering his face. This seemed to infuriate the humble gardener even further. "How you could even dare. you betrayer." "Sam! What are you talking about?" "You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Sam roared. The sound of the pleasant morning seemed to disappear. The stream stopped its soothing melody, the sun faded, life was silenced. "You beat Frodo! He's carrying the ring, the very purpose for why we are all here and you have the nerve to beat him?! By the Valar, he is your cousin! Why, why Merry?! So help me I swear I will beat you myself, O' Betrayer of the World!" "Sam you don't understand I-" Merry was cut off by Sam running full tilt at him, his saucepan for carrying water at the ready. Merry backed away sharply and tripped over his own feet, falling to the ground. Lifting up his hands he cried out as Sam bared his cooking ware down over his head. "What is going on!" The commanding voice of Gandalf froze the two hobbits. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli stood behind the wizard; sword, bow and axe at the ready. Frodo stood horrified behind the larger companions. "This is the betrayer of the Fellowship! This accursed creature has beaten the Ring Bearer!" Sam was red with fury and a vein was throbbing in his temple. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli slowly lowered their weapons and each gained a unique and, if the circumstances had been different, humorous looks of confusion. Still Gandalf did not loose his stern continence. "Lower your weapon Samwise. Let Frodo speak." Sam blushed heavily as all looks now turned to Frodo, who was startled at his new position in the spotlight. He started slowly. "Merry. Meriadoc did not harm me. it cannot be told." Verging on childish, Frodo began to trail his left big toe in the dirt in front of him. Looks where exchanged between elf, man and dwarf. Sam stared at his master, letting his 'weapon' drop to the ground as he realized what he had nearly done. Gandalf's brow knitted. "What is this that cannot be shared with the rest of the Fellowship?" the Istari questioned. Frodo glanced up and his eyes met with Merry's, whose face was blank. There was nothing for it. "Merry and I-" "Good morning all!" Pippin's clear high -pitched voice rang out. Boromir and Pippin appeared behind the other Fellowship members from the direction of their camp. Fully clothed, refreshed and looking ready for another long march, Boromir had an uncharacteristically boyish look on his face, hair slightly ruffled and, blushing, he looked positively Pippinish! The hobbit on the other hand looked more grown up all of a sudden, swinging his arms with an almost manly gait. All around knew that something had happened, though none could tell, except for one; Merry had a smirk traveling onto his face. Soon, though, both man and hobbit stopped dead in their tracks, staring with mouths agape at the situation they saw before them. "What's.happening?" Pippin asked finally. Frodo who now had time to recover his wits answered swiftly, "It is a matter that concerns only Sam, Merry and myself. Do not worry any longer; I shall work out this mess." Frodo gave a shooing motion with his hand. There was a hesitation, and then Pippin guessing what had happened called loudly: "I'm starved! Aren't you Boromir? I think we should all get some breakfast, yet if these gentle-hobbits take too long they shall miss out!" With that the chocolate-colored, curly hobbit head bobbed off, tugging Boromir around to follow after. The tension was instantly broken and Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas followed after the youngest member of the Fellowship and his tall friend. Gandalf remained behind; trying to retrieve his frown of disapproval towards the three other hobbits but failing as a smile threatened his lips because of Pippin's antics. He settled instead for a quirked bushy eyebrow. "You were explaining, Frodo." The oldest Hobbit had felt uneasy telling the circumstances in front of the other Fellowship members but had no real reservations for telling the wizened Maia. He had known of Gandalf since he was a very small hobbit and he was somewhat of a grandfather to him, and perhaps to them all. Still this did not deter a blush to creep up his face and the tips of his ears. "Merry and I spent the night together two nights past. That is the reason for my somewhat unexplainable injuries." Frodo peeped up to witness the reactions of all parties. Merry was looking at the ground with a small smile, Sam was absolutely speechless, staring at his Master with huge round eyes, yet Gandalf's reaction was the most surprising of them all! The old man was smiling slightly, his eyes twinkling as though he had known all along and no doubt he did, though how he knew, none may know; the wise have their secret ways. "Well we shall be thankful that was all it was. Now I would urge you three to come along quickly before that rascal Pip devours each of your breakfasts! He would certainly he hungry this morning." And with another twinkle of eyes, Gandalf turned and walked slowly back to camp. Sam was still dumbfounded as both Merry and Frodo ashamedly faced him. "I'm sorry Sam. I should have told you, but you know how it is. It is not exactly easy conversation," said Frodo in way of his apology. "No Frodo, it is I who is the one who is to be sorry. I am glad, Sam, that you went to attack me. It proves your loyalty and love for Frodo above all others and I admire you for that. I also love your Master and I have for some time, but I was too frightened to take him from you in the open, I know how protective you are of him." At this Sam blushed slightly and looked almost proud. "But I guess what I'm really trying to say here is that I thought you would not let anyone, even me, near Frodo. even one who loves him as much as I, because of your own love for him and your need to protect him from all manners of hurt. I'm very sorry; I should not have been so underhanded like that. I can understand your worry and how you must have felt when you saw Frodo's injuries. I spoke to him last night, we were wondering how in the world to tell you. I completely understand if you don't but, I humbly ask you to accept my apology, Samwise Gamgee." At this Merry knelt and bowed his head. Sam was utterly beside himself, blushing furiously as the heir to the Master of Buckland knelt before him in sincere apology. What could he do? Up until a few minutes ago he had been sure Merry had brutally attacked him master and best friend. Now he had discovered that the bruising had been the results of love and not war, and even though he felt the whole ordeal was very suspicious; much too sneaky for Merry, let alone Frodo, he could understand the Brandybuck's motives. He too had fallen in love for the handsome Baggins of Bag End and felt he could never keep his feelings hidden forever, knowing it wasn't his place in society to be flouncing about with a hobbit of higher birth. He had often dreamed, himself, of stealing the dark-haired hobbit away from the rest of the Shire, secretly so that none would know and none would be hurt. The Gamgee pondered this as the Baggins and Brandybuck remained tense before him, awaiting his decision. Finally he let out a whoosh of air and the frown of thoughtfulness lifted. "You apology is accepted, Mister Merry." Sam said now brightly and cheerfully. He did not have time to prepare himself for the onset of hugs and kisses he felt from both Merry and Frodo. "Bless you Sam! You are truly the best friend a hobbit could ever ask for!" Frodo cried. "You certainly are Sam! You deserve Frodo's love more than I ever could." The two once-competitor's regarded each other. Sam looked severely at Merry, who expected a lecturing on how to treat Frodo and to never ever be sneaky like that again. He did indeed receive rebuke, but not the kind he was expecting: "Now, Merry, that isn't fair," said Sam addressing Merry for the first time as his equal, "you love Frodo as much as I do I'd reckon, and it's not my right to take him from you. Instead." Sam now looked down, tracing his foot in the dust, "I was wondering if you'd like to share Frodo instead." "Would I ever!" shouted Merry; taking Sam completely by surprised. "I must say I'm not against the idea either, Sam. Possibly your best plan ever I'd vouch to say in fact. I would love to be shared by the two of you." Sam and Merry looked over at the eldest and most noble of the hobbit quartet, startled to find a flash of naughtiness in his bright blue eyes. Grinning at each other and linking an arm with each one of Frodo's, they walked back off to camp together. As the sun set that evening in Middle-Earth as the Company of the Ring strode forward into the approaching dusk, a little hobbit could be seen perching on top of a large man's shoulder. "Look!" he cried pointing at the first star on the horizon, lit by the red fire of the sun sinking down below the skyline. Four hobbits, two men, an elf, a dwarf and a wizard each turned to view the spectacular sight; a splendid beauty, untarnished by the growing evil of the world, and hope soared in every race's heart. And for a hobbit and a man, and three hobbits gathered together, optimism for the night to come was rising like the new moon. THE END Namarie! Till next time!