Title: Hidden Strength (1/?)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing: Frodo/Elrond
Rating: G
Summary: Frodo arrives in Rivendell, barely clinging to his mortality.  Elrond 
heals him and is surprised to discover just how strong the hobbit's spirit truly is.  
The elven king is disquieted by how drawn he is to Frodo.
Disclaimer: Tolkien's characters, my story.  I don't make any money from doing 
this.


“Hidden Strength”
Part 1

	He didn’t quite know what to make of the wounded hobbit that was 
brought to him.  Elrond had, of course, seen hobbits many times before, but Frodo 
Baggins was so very different from the rest of them.  But for the dark curls he 
boasted, he could have passed as one of Elrond’s folk.  He was delicate and 
beautiful, and the elven king could daresay he had never seen such fragile beauty 
among any race, before.  Something inside of him twisted as his people brought 
they fading hobbit into Rivendell, followed shortly by a gaggle of other hobbits 
and Aragorn himself.

“This wound was inflicted by a Morgul blade?” questioned Elrond as he opened 
the hobbit’s shirt and gently probed the stab wound.

	“Yes,” replied Aragorn, “On Weathertop.  If Glorfindel had not come 
along when he did, I daresay Frodo wouldn’t have made it this far.  Can you heal 
him?”

	Elrond pursed his lips, glancing at his audience from the corner of his eye.  
The sturdiest of the other three hobbits (nobody had bothered to give him their 
names) looked as though he had taken the wound himself.  So agonized was the 
blond hobbit’s features that a surge of pity welled within the elf king’s heart.  The 
love that the sturdy hobbit felt for the fragile figure in the bed was as clear as 
daylight.  “I need time alone with him,” Elrond said sternly, his clear gaze resting 
on each of them in turn, “I may yet be able to save him, but I need to be free of 
distractions.  Aragorn, show our guests to a quiet place, where they might rest and 
eat.”

	The ranger practically had to carry the blond hobbit out of the room, so 
reluctant was he to part with the stricken little one.  Elrond heard him sob, “Oh, 
please save Mister Frodo!” as Aragorn gently shooed him out of the room.

	Once the door was shut, Elrond brushed his hand over his patient’s dark 
curls and closed his eyes.  The desire to save this unusually lovely little creature 
consumed him, and he poured every ounce of strength he possessed into his 
healing.  In the end it nearly killed him.  The darkness had infested Frodo so 
strongly that it nearly dragged Elrond down with him.  Just as the last of his 
strength was giving out and he was ready to accept that the hobbit was lost to him, 
Elrond felt it.  The smallest response, like a hand reaching out from the darkness 
to grasp his.  Elrond gasped and clung to the link.  “Come back, fair one,” he 
murmured desperately, twining his own aura around the weakened one that cried 
for help, “come to me!”

	Frodo’s small body arched and a cry escaped his lips.  His slender hands 
grasped Elrond’s longer ones and squeezed weakly, and his eyes shot open.  For a 
moment, the elven king was stunned by the impossible blue color of those large 
irises.  Elf and hobbit locked gazes, neither one aware of anything save the 
struggle from darkness that they were locked together in.  Elrond was well and 
truly amazed at the stubborn strength that this diminutive creature possessed.  He 
had never felt willpower to rival that of Frodo Baggins.  The hobbit’s delicate lips 
curled into a snarl of agony as he worked with his benefactor to banish the poison 
from his body.  Both of them cried out as the healing fulfilled its cycle, and 
Elrond collapsed on top of Frodo.

	Dragging deep, painful breaths, Elrond forced himself up so that he could 
determine the success of his desperate efforts.  Frodo’s sweet, fair features had 
relaxed as he went into a healing sleep.  Though his flesh was still too pale for the 
elf king’s liking, it was clear that they had beaten the darkness...together.  Elrond 
touched the hobbit’s face, marveling at the silken texture of his skin.  His dark 
blue gaze flicked to the vest that was strung over the chair in the corner of the 
room.  He felt the presence of the ring...knew that the malevolent thing was 
waiting in the pocket of the garment.  A delicate shudder passed through Elrond 
as he thought of how much resilience it took for one as small as Frodo to carry the 
ring this far.  Like Gandalf, he did not trust himself to bear such a burden.  It 
would be too easy for the ring to manipulate him, a great and ancient being...yet 
here was this little person, this hobbit, who seemed to show an extraordinary 
resistance to it’s evil.  He would have a chain made, Elrond decided.  A chain for 
Frodo to carry the ring, so that the temptation to put it on would not be so great.

	Elrond looked down at the sleeping patient once more.  How strange, that 
he couldn’t seem to stop staring at him.  The shadows had grown long within the 
chamber, signifying that the healing session had taken hours.  He would inform 
Frodo’s traveling companions that he was on the mend, and then he would take a 
much-needed rest.  A few hours of meditation should clear up his fatigue.

~*****************~

	It would be days before Frodo would wake up.  Though Elrond explained 
this to the other hobbits, they continuously checked on him...especially Samwise 
Gamgee.  The elf king didn’t know if it was amusing or annoying, the fact that the 
little gardener wouldn’t take his word for it.  Sam insisted on being by Frodo’s 
side, day in and day out, and it was only through the intervention of Gandalf that 
he was convinced to seek nourishment and rest for himself.

	“Thank you, my old friend,” commented Gandalf to Elrond one day, as 
they gazed down at the sleeping patient, “I’ve been told that he was nearly lost to 
us.  You’ve done a great thing, by healing him.”

	Elrond tilted his head slightly, his shiny, raven locks swaying with the 
movement.  “I very nearly lost him.  Frodo has a wellspring of hidden strength 
that I did not expect to encounter.  He looks so very fragile, yet I felt him fighting 
to live, and to join me in the light.  Most impressive.  Other, stronger folk might 
have given up and succumbed.”  His long fingers reached down to smooth an 
errant curl away from Frodo’s closed eyelids.

	Gandalf smiled at the gesture.  “You’re taken with him, I see.”

	Elrond sputtered and looked at the wizard with widened eyes.  “I beg your 
pardon?”

	Gandalf chuckled.  “Even the wisest of us sometimes overlook our own 
feelings for what they truly are, my old friend.  The last time I saw you gaze at 
another being with such an expression was when you were with Celebrian.”

	Elrond looked well and truly exasperated.  “Oh come now, Gandalf!  
Celebrian was my wife.  Frodo is neither an elf nor a woman, so why would I 
have such feelings for him?  I admit, he is a stunning fellow, but I hardly think 
that an admiration of beauty constitutes love...or even lust.”

	Gandalf gave one of those wily smiles that drove Elrond mad.  “I should 
think you of all people would be more open to the idea, Elrond.  After all, your 
people have not the compunctions of the rest of Middle Earth, when it comes to 
love.  Why do you try to deny it, when you have had these types of relationships 
before?”

	Elrond opened his mouth, then snapped it shut and looked down at Frodo 
again.  Why, indeed?  The elves had never looked down upon having feelings for 
someone of the same gender, and many of them had relations with whomever they 
wanted, regardless of racial differences?  Why was this so different?  Because he 
respected Frodo, he realized.  While he was enchanted with the hobbit’s beauty, 
he could not in good conscience allow his feelings to go beyond that.  Such a 
relationship could never progress beyond physical pleasure, and after being 
exposed to Frodo’s aura as he had, Elrond thought the hobbit deserved more than 
that.

	“Let us forget about this, Gandalf,” he said firmly, his clear gaze still on 
Frodo, “I will admit that I am taken with him, but such feelings cannot be allowed 
to surface.  I will not act upon them, for his safety.  I have a feeling that Frodo’s 
part in our future is just beginning, and I will not get in the way.”

	Gandalf took a long pull from his pipe and said nothing.  It was clear by 
the knowing look in his eye that he thought Elrond’s oath might not last.

~*************~

	“I beg your pardon, Master Samwise, Gandalf,” said Elrond softly.  This 
really was too much.  He had come in to check on Frodo’s progress, as he did 
every day.  His shock and discomfort was complete upon seeing that Samwise and 
Gandalf had stripped the comatose hobbit down to his skivvies and were bathing 
him as best they could.  Gandalf’s grey eyes twinkled at the elven king as an 
uncharacteristic flush rose in his ivory cheeks upon seeing Frodo’s nudity.

	“Do come in, lord Elrond.  We are merely cleaning our patient up.  The 
smell of sickness needs to be gotten rid of, to encourage him to wake.” said 
Gandalf.

	“I think he’s doin’ much better, Sir,” said Sam respectfully as Elrond 
slowly entered the room, “he’s got a bit more color to his cheeks, and I swear I 
felt his hand twitch a minute ago.”  

	Elrond nodded wordlessly and gazed down at the unconscious hobbit.  
Frodo was built unlike any other hobbit.  He was not portly, not even chubby.  His 
small body was lithe as any elf’s, with a hairless, smooth chest, pink nipples, and 
a tight little stomach.  Calling forth his dignity, Elrond schooled his expression 
into one of professional concern as he leaned over Frodo.  He touched the 
hobbit’s cheek with one long hand, then ran his fingers down his jaw and 
delicately felt around where the neck met it.  There was no swelling, which meant 
that the infection was fading.  Frodo’s skin was warm...not chilled as it had been 
over the past few days.

	“You are right, Master Gamgee.  It seems that Frodo is recovering nicely.”

	“When do you think he’ll wake up?” the hobbit said with child-like 
enthusiasm.

	Elrond shared a smirk with Gandalf at the innocence of hobbits.  “I wish 
that I could give you an estimation, Samwise.  We will all simply have to be 
patient, and allow Frodo to wake at his own pace.  One cannot rush these things, 
you know.”

	Sam frowned, but conceded the point with a nod.  His work-roughened 
hands smoothed aside the very same errant lock of hair that Elrond had just been 
eyeing.  “He didn’t deserve this,” the gardener whispered, “that ring is something 
for big folk to take care of...not hobbits like us.”

	Gandalf nodded in agreement as he began to dry Frodo’s dampened, pale 
skin with a towel.  “Let us hope that we can find a worthy person to bear the 
burden, Samwise.  I would much prefer for all of you to return to your quiet lives 
in the Shire, protected from the evils of the world.  If luck is with us, we shall find 
a way to relieve Frodo of the responsibility.”

	Elrond checked a sigh.  He agreed with Gandalf in that it would be a pity 
to put Frodo in the position of being the ring’s guardian, but in his healing trance, 
he had learned that very few possessed the marvelous spirit necessary to take on 
such a task.  Frodo Baggins was a rarity, in all ways.  Looking down at the 
vulnerable, sweet face, the elf king wished he had not discovered Frodo’s 
strength.  It would be easier to hand the ring over to a less worthy individual, if he 
did not know just how powerful the little hobbit’s spirit really was.  “Melui El 
Hen,”(1.) he whispered as he touched Frodo’s cheek.

~***********~

(1.)	Translation: Sweet Star Child

-To be continued


Title: Hidden Strength (2/?)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing: Frodo/Elrond
Rating: G
Summary: Frodo is recovering from his ordeal, and Elrond is organizing 
his council, to decide what to do about the ring.  Both of them reflect on 
the attraction they feel towards one another, though neither of them 
realizes the other shares his feelings.  Gandalf attempts to advise Elrond to 
open himself up to the possibility of love between he and Frodo.
Disclaimer: Tolkien's characters, my story.  I don't make any money off of 
this.


“Hidden Strength”
Part 2

	Waking up proved to be difficult for Frodo.  He was aware that he 
must get up, that he was in danger, but a thick fog kept dragging him back 
down.  He heard Gandalf saying, “That’s it, dear boy.  Come out of it.”

	He also heard a musical voice speaking in elvish.  “Eria-am, el 
hen!” (1.) The voice said.  The second voice was oddly familiar to Frodo, 
but he could not place where he had heard it before.  Perhaps in a dream.  
He groaned and fluttered his eyelashes as he struggled to comply with 
their demand.  The fear that the black riders were descending upon him 
lent the hobbit strength, and he forced himself to try and rise.

	Frodo was trembling with fear as his blue eyes opened wide and he 
tried to focus on his surroundings.  “Where am I?” he rasped hoarsely, 
finally seeing two blurred figures nearby.  The fog lifted from his eyes, 
and he parted his lips in relief to see that one of them was Gandalf.

	“You are in the house of Elrond,” the old wizard said with a smile, 
“and you are very fortunate to be here.  A few hours more, and you would 
have been lost to us.”

	Frodo’s shaking began to subside as he realized that he was safe.  
His confused gaze slid off of Gandalf and found Elrond, who was smiling 
at him gently.  “You...you pulled me out of the darkness,” Frodo said 
softly.  He stared at the majestic elven king with undisguised awe.  

	Elrond’s deep blue eyes regarded Frodo warmly, and his delicate 
features were both concerned and relieved as he nodded.  “I might have 
failed, had you not been so determined.  Gandalf was correct when he said 
that you have a mighty strength in you, Frodo Baggins.  I welcome you to 
Rivendell.”

	Frodo winced as he sat up, for pain shot through his shoulder.  
Elrond knelt over him and propped some of the pillows behind him, to 
help the hobbit sit comfortably.  “It will be quite tender for a while, young 
hobbit.  I regret to say that it may never properly heal as well, given the 
nature of the weapon that caused your wound.  I wish that I could do more 
for you,” he apologized.

	Frodo blushed.  “Oh, no...You have already done so much!  Please, 
do not apologize for things which you cannot control.”  

	Elrond gazed at him silently for a moment, his dark eyes soft.  
Frodo shifted uncomfortably, feeling a fluttery feeling in his stomach from 
the elf’s gaze.  The impulse to lay his palm against Elrond’s smooth cheek 
was so strong that he had to clench his hand into a little fist to resist the 
urge.  He didn’t know if he was the only one who felt this connection 
between the two of them or not, but he didn’t want to embarrass himself 
by overstepping his bounds.  Caressing the magnificent elf’s face as 
though he was a lover would most certainly be taking liberties that he had 
no right to take!

	“Your elegance and generous nature do you great credit, Frodo,” 
replied Elrond with a small smile.

	Frodo felt his cheeks warming again, and he cursed his own 
bashfulness as Gandalf chuckled.  Elrond, however, merely straightened 
back up and gave Frodo a respectful nod.  “What happened, Gandalf?  
Why didn’t you meet up with us as you said you would?” questioned 
Frodo.

	Gandalf’s smile faded, and his grey eyes became distant.  “I am 
sorry, Frodo.  I was...delayed.”  He clearly was not going to elaborate on 
just how he was delayed, so Frodo did not bother questioning him further.  
He felt confident that it must have been something dire, for the wizard to 
have missed their meeting.  Gandalf would never have left them in danger, 
if he could have helped it.

	Any further conversation between the three of them would have to 
wait, for the door opened, and Samwise stepped in.  Frodo met his loyal 
gardener’s eyes and smiled widely as Sam gasped in delight.  “Bless you 
Frodo...you’re awake!” Sam cried as he bounded across the room and 
grasped Frodo’s hand.  “We were so worried about you!  Weren’t we, 
Mister Gandalf?”

	Gandalf smiled warmly at the reunited friends.  “Indeed.  Samwise 
has hardly left your side, Frodo.”

	Frodo was caught between laughter and tears as he realized just 
how lucky he was to be alive.  His joy faded into melancholy worry as his 
blue gaze strayed to his coat, hanging on a chair opposite his bed.  “The 
ring?” he questioned, trying to keep the dread out of his voice.  Had he 
lost it in his flight across the river?  Was it safe?”

	“It is still in your pocket, Master Baggins,” answered Elrond 
swiftly.  “Until the Council meets to decide what to do with it, it shall 
remain in your possession.  If fortune smiles upon us, it will soon no 
longer be your burden to bear.”

	Frodo nodded and smiled, but Elrond could see the way his lips 
trembled, and the uncertainty in his incredible eyes.  Frodo wasn’t sure 
that he wanted to give the ring up.  Elrond could see this, and a note of 
disquiet found its way into his heart.  Even with his uncanny resilience to 
the ring’s evil, the hobbit was becoming attached to it.

	“Let us not worry over these things, for the time being,” suggested 
Elrond with a supportive smile, “Now is the time to celebrate your 
recovery, Frodo.  As soon as you feel strong enough, you may explore our 
city and visit your friends.  Tonight, I shall hold a feast in your honor!”

	Frodo lowered his gaze bashfully.  “You are a most gracious host, 
lord Elrond,” he said.  As the fog cleared from his mind, Frodo 
remembered the elf calling him “Star Child.”  The way the term had rolled 
off of Elrond’s tongue had sounded almost like an endearment, and Frodo 
didn’t quite know how to handle that.  It made him feel warm inside, while 
at the same time, it confused him.  He dared to peek up at the elf through 
his lashes, and Elrond was regarding him gravely.

	Elrond forced his lips not to quirk as the desire to chuckle came 
over him.  Frodo really was a darling creature...quite modest and clearly 
uncomfortable with praise.  “I shall leave you with your companions, 
Master Baggins,” he said with a graceful bow, “if there is anything that 
you need, do not hesitate to ask.”

~****************~

	As promised, Elrond set up a magnificent feast that night.  Frodo 
was too weak at first to leave his room for more than an hour or so at a 
time, but his joy at being reunited with his friends and to his surprise, 
Bilbo, made up for the pain in his shoulder and the weakness he felt.  
When he was too tired to join them outside, Sam, Merry and Pippin would 
come to his room and visit him.  

	Frodo’s appetite was lacking for the first day, and Elrond cursed 
himself for foolishly setting up such a feast when Frodo’s stomach clearly 
wasn’t ready to take solid foods.  Ah well...he would make up for it when 
Frodo was recovered enough to enjoy it.  The elf king watched over Frodo 
quietly, never letting his observance become too obvious to others.  
Gandalf, of course, seemed to know just how closely Elrond was paying 
attention to Frodo’s recovery, and the elf found himself feeling 
uncharacteristic exasperation with his old friend.  What was the harm in 
being concerned for Frodo’s well being?  Gandalf needn’t smirk at him 
like that, every time he caught him looking at the hobbit.  Still, the few 
times that Frodo had met Elrond’s eyes across the distance, the hobbit 
would smile warmly at him, and those bright, blue eyes would light up.  It 
made the elf’s breath catch in his throat, and as the days passed, he 
wondered if he could keep his vow.

	The problem was becoming more serious.  The more Elrond 
learned of Frodo’s personality, listened to his youthful voice, and watched 
the changes that his expressive face went through as he spoke, the harder it 
became for the elf to remain nonchalant with his observances.  The simple 
fact was that Elrond could no longer deny that he watched over Frodo for 
the simple pleasure of looking at him.  The hobbit was recovering 
nicely...better than he would have thought such a seemingly fragile being 
could.  There was no logical reason for Elrond to secretly follow Frodo 
through the city any longer.  Reluctantly, the elf king deemed to cease his 
foolish stalking and try to concentrate on making preparations for the 
council meeting.

	Gandalf joined him in his chambers overlooking the courtyard, and 
they both watched the four young hobbits converse together in the 
courtyard.  “The two of you are linked now, Elrond,” said Gandalf upon 
noticing the hint of longing that sparked in the elf’s eyes, “in these 
troubled times, perhaps it would be best to take joy when you can, rather 
than deny your feelings.”

	Elrond tore his eyes away from Frodo and replied, “Those are wise 
words, my friend.  In any other situation, I would heed your advice.  
However, this is not the time to indulge in such things.  My people are 
leaving Middle Earth soon.  The ring must be entrusted to someone 
worthy enough to bear it.  Frodo has shown extraordinary resilience to its 
evil, and if the fate of the races is to rest on his shoulders, I would not 
wish to confuse him with my advances.”

	Gandalf sucked on his pipe and lowered his busy eyebrows.  “Are 
you suggesting we leave the ring in Frodo’s possession?”  When Elrond 
didn’t answer, he continued, “Frodo has done more than should have been 
expected of him already.  We cannot place this burden on his shoulders.  
The Hobbits had nothing to do with the creations of the rings of power, 
and therefore should be left in piece.  This is a task for those races who are 
more directly bound to the ring’s fate.”

	“All races are bound to its’ fate, Gandalf,” countered Elrond, “even 
those who were not involved in the creation of the rest of them.  If 
something is not done to counter Sauron, Hobbits share the same doom as 
the rest of Middle Earth.  Who would you trust with this burden?  The 
dwarves?  They live in their mountains and care nothing for the troubles of 
others.  The humans?  It was human folly that prevented the ring from 
being destroyed when there was the perfect opportunity.”

	He sighed heavily and placed a long hand on the wizard’s 
shoulder.  “It grieves me to say this, old friend, but the ring cannot stay 
here.  You know this, as well as I.  Our only hope may lie in Frodo 
Baggins, though I too despise the thought of putting such an innocent 
under a heavy burden such as this.”

	Gandalf nodded in understanding, though he frowned.  “All is not 
yet decided.  The council may bring about a better path for us.”

~*************~

	“He’s watching you again, Mister Frodo,” whispered Sam.  

	Frodo kept his gaze from following Sam’s to the balcony, where 
Elrond stood.  Everytime he met the elf’s eyes, his insides did little flips, 
and his heartbeat quickened.  Elrond was too beautiful and exotic for 
Frodo not to stare at him, and he was convinced that the elf’s vigilance 
over him was out of simple concern for his well being.  How would it look 
if Frodo stared at him like a lovesick tweenager?

	Frodo smiled at Sam and said, “He only wants to be sure that I’m 
recovering, Sam.  Elves have different ways of expressing themselves than 
we do, and I’m sure that lord Elrond is merely reassuring himself that I’m 
recovering.  I don’t mind...really.”

	“If you ask me, it’s creepy,” stated Pippin as he bit into an apple.

	Frodo hedged his brows at his cousin.  “How is it creepy?”

	Pippin shared a look with Merry, and the Brandybuck said, “What 
Pip means is, he gets a look in his eye sometimes that suggests...well...if 
he were a hobbit, I’d think he wants to bed you.”

	Frodo had just lifted a goblet of water to his lips and taken a 
mouthful of it when Merry declared this, and the gentlehobbit coughed 
and sputtered as he swallowed the wrong way.  Sam carefully patted his 
back on the side of his unwounded shoulder and gazed at him in concern 
as Frodo caught his breath.  “Oh Merry...don’t be ridiculous!” scolded 
Frodo raggedly, between coughing spasms, “ever since you and 
Pippin...er...discovered your relationship, you’ve both thought of nothing 
but sex!  Lord Elrond is merely concerned for my health.  You don’t know 
how close I came to becoming a wraith, but he does!  He was there!”

	Hearing the trembling note in Frodo’s voice, Merry quickly said, 
“I’m sorry, Frodo...we didn’t mean to upset you!  You’re probably right.  
What could pass as a look of longing among our folk is probably nothing 
more than elvish intensity.  We won’t bother you with it anymore.”

	“They’re a pretty rough group of people to read, if you’ll pardon 
my saying so, sir,” added Samwise in Merry and Pippin’s defense, “I 
thought he had an odd look in his eye too.”

	Frodo sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “I am the one who 
should be apologizing, here.  I’ve got a headache coming on, and I over 
reacted and snapped, when I should have simply explained things.  
Forgive me.”

	Pippin patted Frodo’s good shoulder and muttered around a 
mouthful of apple, “Nothing to forgive, Frodo!  You’ve stayed out longer 
than usual today.”

	“Mayhap I should take you back inside, where you can rest up a bit 
before supper?” suggested Sam.

	Frodo nodded wearily and allowed the gardener to put his arm 
around him supportively.  Of their own accord, Frodo’s eyes rose to the 
balcony overhead.  Elrond was standing there, his glorious mane of raven 
hair spilling about his shoulders and a gentle smile on his face.  Frodo 
immediately returned the smile, amazed at how effortless it was.  Elrond’s 
sensitive mouth smiled even wider, showing pearly teeth, and he nodded 
respectfully to Frodo.  The hobbit stumbled, for his knees turned to jelly as 
a result of that gorgeous smile.  Sam yelped as Frodo trod upon his foot 
clumsily, and the two of them nearly went down in a heap.

	Blushing furiously, Frodo stammered apologies to his friend.  “It’s 
alright, Mister Frodo,” Sam assured him kindly, “you don’t weigh hardly 
nothing, so it didn’t hurt.  Just startled me, is all.”

	Frodo reluctantly looked back up, expecting to see Elrond laughing 
at his clumsy display.  Instead, the elf king was leaning over with a look of 
such concern on his face that Frodo was touched deeply.  “Are you well, 
Master Baggins?” questioned Elrond.

	“Y-yes, lord Elrond.  I merely had a moment of weakness, but it 
has passed,” Frodo lied.  No, he was not well.  He was anything but well.  
He was enamored with a being that was so far above him that he might as 
well be reaching for the moon.  Elrond was a war hero, a king, and an elf.  
His accomplishments were as great as his beauty, and Frodo felt ashamed 
for entertaining thoughts of exploring the attraction he felt for him.  Even 
if Elrond weren’t such an important figure, Frodo doubted that he would 
have any of the interest that Merry and Pippin claimed he did.  Frodo was 
a hobbit, and he was male.  Elrond had been married and raised a 
family...surely he would not be interested in bedding another male, who 
happened to only come to his waist!  “Stop being ridiculous, Frodo 
Baggins,” the gentlehobbit mentally scolded himself.  He had expected 
Sam to fall in love with one of the elves, not himself!

~**************~
(1.)	Rise up, star child!

-To be continued

 
Title: Hidden Strength (3/?)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Rating: PG
Summary: Frodo's regained his appetite, and to celebrate, Elrond provides 
another feast.  Sam reflects upon the past as he realizes that Frodo fits in 
better with the elves than he does among hobbits, and he begins to suspect 
that something much deeper than admiration draws Frodo to the elf king.
Disclaimer:  I do not own any of these characters.  They are all the propery 
of J.R.R. Tolkien.  I simply enjoy writing about them because I can't get 
enough of them!  No money is made.


“Hidden Strength”
Part 3


	Elrond provided another feast that night, to make up for the fact 
that Frodo had been too ill to enjoy the first one.  Frodo’s stomach 
growled conspicuously as he climbed onto his chair (the elves had 
thoughtfully provided stepping stools for the smaller hobbits, and placed 
cushions on their chairs so that they could sit at the proper height at the 
table).  He grinned sheepishly as Elrond flashed an amused glance at him.

	“Ah, it seems your appetite has improved, Master Baggins,” the elf 
king said with a twinkle in his eyes.

	Several of the elves laughed softly in delight as Frodo’s delicate 
cheeks pinkened and he lowered his blue gaze.

	“Confound it Elrond...stop embarrassing the lad,” scolded Bilbo as 
he struggled into the chair beside Frodo.  This made the elves laugh again, 
and Elrond’s smile broadened.  If anything, Bilbo’s defense of him made 
Frodo even more uncomfortable.  He rolled his eyes towards Sam and 
scratched his leg self consciously as they settled in for the dinner.  His 
eyes strayed to Aragorn, who was sitting beside Arwen.  The ranger 
looked completely different from the wild, dangerous man who had 
forcefully propelled Frodo up the stairs at the Prancing Pony.  Strider had 
shaved and donned elvish attire.  He wore this new look with refined 
dignity, and Frodo wished that he could mimic Aragorn’s ability to adapt.  

	They chatted about minor things during the meal.  Elrond asked 
Frodo to describe how things were in the Shire now, and the elf king 
listened attentively as Frodo explained.  The hobbit hated the way his 
hands trembled with nervous energy as he looked into Elrond’s eyes.  He 
thought it very undignified, the way he could barely grasp his fork.  

	Samwise frowned as he watched Frodo and Elrond talk to one 
another.  They seemed totally absorbed in each other, though neither one 
of them appeared to be aware of it.  The gardener didn’t quite know what 
to make of his master’s connection to Elrond.  Sam’s eyes slid to Merry 
and Pippin, who were holding hands under the table while they ate.  Did 
Mister Frodo feel the sort of things towards Elrond as these two felt for 
each other?  Looking back at Frodo, Sam began to suspect that he 
did...even if Frodo himself didn’t realize his feelings for what they were.  
Sam had known Frodo since they were lads.  He remembered asking the 
Gaffer if the new Baggins lad was an elf, when he saw Frodo’s delicate, 
too-pretty features for the first time.

	Now it seemed that Frodo had finally found someone that he 
connected with, in ways that Samwise didn’t fully understand.  His master 
had always been a bit of an outcast among hobbits, though most of the 
Shire was too polite to say anything to Frodo’s face.  As with Bilbo, they 
respected his wealth and stature, even if they thought he was a bit mad.  
Frodo had always known how they felt towards him, though.  Sam 
remembered one of Frodo’s birthday parties, when the gentlehobbit was 
just getting into his tweens.

	Some of the other lads at the party didn’t like the way the lasses 
were looking at Frodo, and they made some rather rude comments about 
him, and how malformed they thought he was.  They said it just loud 
enough for Frodo to catch the comments about “that skinny, bug-eyed 
Frodo”.  Samwise, who was still a child in comparison to Frodo, saw the 
entire exchange.  He saw the way Frodo’s polite smile faltered, and how 
the shapely lips trembled.  To his credit, Mister Frodo didn’t give the other 
boys the satisfaction of seeing how much their cruel comments hurt him.  
He continued through the night, laughing and drinking just a tad more than 
should be considered appropriate for a tweenager.  If his smiles were 
slightly strained and did not touch his bright eyes, nobody noticed it.  
Nobody, that is, except for Samwise and Bilbo.

	Later on that night, Frodo had snuck off by himself.  Bilbo 
approached Sam and said, “Why don’t you go find him, lad?  I think he 
could use a good friend right now...someone closer to his age.”

	Sam didn’t hesitate.  Something in his young mind troubled him 
about the odd look in Mister Frodo’s blue eyes, just before he left the 
party.  All of the guests were too busy dancing and drinking to notice his 
absence.  Sam and Bilbo had made a silent pact to keep a close eye on 
Frodo, since he had come to Hobbiton.  They shared the fear that the 
emotional trauma of losing his parents, combined with the way other 
hobbits gave him a wide berth would eventually become too much for 
Frodo to take.  With that thought, adrenaline had burst through Sam.  
Frodo had gone off in the direction of Bywater pool!  What if he tried to 
drown himself?

	Sam would never forget the fear and horrible anticipation he felt as 
he ran as fast as his furry feet could carry him.  He had called out to Frodo 
with a quiver on his voice, and when his master had answered, “Sam?  Is 
that you?” in a slightly puzzled voice, Samwise nearly fainted with relief.  
As he rounded the bend, Frodo met him.  He was wiping his eyes 
vigorously, but Sam could see that they were red-rimmed from crying.  No 
matter how much Frodo blinked, his eyes continued to fill with tears.

	“Don’t listen to what them fools say, Mister Frodo,” Sam had said 
fiercely, “they’re just jealous.  I think you’re beautiful, and so do most of 
the lasses in the Shire.”  Even then, he was protective of Frodo.  Though 
he was younger, he was becoming larger than Frodo already.  Samwise 
had easily pulled his weeping master into his arms and hugged him tightly.  
“Don’t go hurtin’ yourself over what they say,” Sam said emphatically, 
feeling a lump in his throat.

	Frodo pulled back at that moment and regarded Sam with puzzled 
lapis eyes.  “What do you mean, Sam?”  When the gardener lowered his 
gaze and shrugged, too embarrassed to put his concerns into words, Frodo 
went still.  “Ah, I think I see.  Sam, did you believe I was going to try 
and...and kill myself?”

	“I don’t rightly know, sir.  Mayhap I did.  I always get scared when 
I see that pain in your eyes.”  Sam wouldn’t meet said eyes as he 
spoke...he was ashamed for believing his master to be that weak.

	Instead of becoming angry, Frodo heaved a deep sigh and put both 
hands on Sam’s shoulders.  “Samwise...look at me,” he commanded softly.

	The young gardener sniffled and obeyed.  His master’s blue eyes 
were soft with tenderness as he whispered, “I won’t deny that I have 
thought of it.  Sometimes, the temptation to go and be with my parents is 
strong, but I know that is not what they would want for me.  Life might 
not be as simple for me as it is for other hobbits my age, but it is my life, 
and I will deal with it.  Nevertheless, it’s wonderful to know that I have 
such a dear friend, to help me bear the burden of my not quite fitting in.  
Thank you, Sam.”  And then Frodo hugged him tightly, and they talked of 
other, less depressing things while the revelry died down in Hobbiton.  It 
didn’t surprise Sam that Frodo now found a strong bond with an elf.  The 
gentlehobbit had never truly fit in with his own kind, and he spoke the 
elvish tongue as beautifully as Elrond himself.  He did wonder just what 
sort of bond this was, however.  Something told him it was as deep as the 
one that he and Frodo shared, but was quite different.  After all...Frodo’s 
tastes didn’t run to the lasses.  Sam had discovered that on accident, 
approximately a fortnight before Bilbo’s disappearance from the Shire....

	Sam was startled back into the present when Elrond announced; 
“The council will begin in five days.  Until then, let us put our troubles 
and worries over the ring behind us.”

	It occurred to Samwise that Frodo must have asked Elrond for 
advice.  It bothered Sam that someone as great and wise as the elf king had 
no immediate answers to their dilemma.  As far as the gardener was 
concerned, they had already done more than their part to get the ring 
safely to Rivendell.  The rest should be up to bigger and wiser folk than 
the hobbits.  Even Mister Frodo wasn’t big enough to handle something 
this big.  Before he could stop himself, Sam blurted out, “Mister Frodo’s 
already done more than enough.  Why can’t you take the ring?”

	His heart jumped to his throat and all the color drained from his 
ruddy cheeks when every single person in the dining hall ceased eating 
and speaking to look at him.  Having all those elven eyes focused on him 
made Sam feel exposed and foolish, and he cleared his throat and added, 
“If you’ll pardon my saying so, Mister Elrond, sir.”

	The only thing that kept Sam from bolting from the dinner table 
and jumping out the window to escape those penetrating eyes was the 
grateful, yet amused smile that Frodo gave to him.  Sam squared his 
shoulders and made himself hold Elrond’s fathomless gaze.

	Elrond put his fingers to his lips for a moment to control the smile 
that was tugging at his mouth.  When he felt he had composed himself 
enough, he replied, “I understand how you feel, Master Gamgee.  We all 
applaud Frodo and the rest of you for your courageous efforts in bringing 
the ring here.  I would leave it at that, if it were so simple, but this is too 
great a threat to Middle Earth to leave out any options, no matter how 
reluctant we are to take them.  Hobbits have as much to lose as the rest of 
us, and therefore, I would not leave your people out of such an important 
council.”

	Samwise sputtered and fell silent.  Blast it, Elrond was right.  He 
wouldn’t want to see his beloved Shire burned down or taken over by evil, 
and the knowledge that there might have been something that he and 
Mister Frodo could have done to stop something like that would haunt 
him.  “It’s alright Sam,” said Frodo soothingly, patting his shoulder, “I 
understand how you feel.  I’m certain that lord Elrond knows that you 
meant no disrespect.”  Frodo’s eyes met the elf king’s, and Elrond nodded 
in agreement.

	“Indeed.  I do not blame young Samwise for feeling the way he 
does.  His protective loyalty to his people and friends does him much 
credit.”

	Gandalf interjected, “Don’t fret so, Samwise.  Only the wisest of 
each race shall be attending the council.  Surely, we can make a decision 
about the ring that will set you at ease.”

	Sam nodded and lowered his gaze.  He wished he could believe 
them, but he saw the looks that passed between Gandalf and Elrond as the 
old wizard said this.  Both of them bore a sad dread in their eyes that 
couldn’t be hidden from the inquisitive gardener.  His fear for Frodo was 
grew stronger as the night wore on.  
~**************~


      *I am staring, * thought Elrond as he tried to tear his gaze off of 
Frodo’s face.  It was difficult to keep his expression purely professional as 
the hobbit chatted with him.  Frodo was so beautiful...like a marble 
sculpture that had been granted life.  It wasn’t merely his physical beauty.  
It was his voice, his smile, and his thoughtful demeanor.  He was a 
scholarly little fellow, who preferred to devote his time to reading and 
writing, rather than playing.  As he watched Frodo’s animated, sweet 
features, Elrond could clearly picture him sitting in a tree, with a book in 
one hand and a pipe in the other.  Frodo was describing their adventure 
through the barrow downs to Elrond, making motions with hands as he 
spoke.  The piece of ham that Frodo had speared on his fork wobbled as he 
waved the silverware, and the hobbit flicked his wrist to demonstrate the 
movement of one of the barrow wights.


	Frodo’s lips parted in a round little “O” as the piece of meat flew 
off of his fork and sailed across the table, landing in Gandalf’s beard.  His 
blue eyes were as wide as saucers as the wizard slowly looked down at the 
dangling bit of ham, then looked at Frodo with raised, bushy eyebrows.  
“Getting a bit over-zealous with your tales, are you?  You must be 
recovering more quickly than I thought, Frodo,” Gandalf said.

	Bilbo choked on his wine and shook with hearty laughter, and 
Merry and Pippin guffawed.  Elrond watched color spread out from 
Frodo’s delicate, pale cheekbones to the tips of his pointed little ears, and 
the elf king was hard put not to laugh out loud, himself.  As it was he 
maintained his dignity by covering his mouth with a napkin and keeping 
his laughter muffled.  His slim shoulders quivered and his eyes watered 
with the effort of keeping quiet.  Aragorn smiled, his rugged features 
softening as he looked from Gandalf to Frodo.

	“Oh, forgive me, Gandalf!  I did not mean to do that,” Frodo 
apologized heartily, and the hobbit began to climb off of his chair with the 
intention of helping Gandalf remove the offending object.

	Gandalf waved a gnarled hand and chuckled, “’Tis quite alright, 
dear boy.  Don’t get up...I’m quite capable of taking care of this little 
matter, myself.”

	Poor Frodo’s face was such a bright shade of pink that it almost 
glowed, and Sam kept his gaze on his plate to keep his master from seeing 
the grin on his lips.  Elrond’s amusement subsided as those impossibly 
blue eyes of Frodo’s sought out his sheepishly and blinked.  My, his lashes 
were long!  The elf king managed a friendly, soothing smile and raised his 
wineglass in salute.  “Gandalf has battled evils far greater than a wayward 
piece of food, Master Baggins.  Rest assured, the only thing that you’ve 
damaged is his pride.”

	Frodo laughed in delight and clinked his own glass against 
Elrond’s as the wizard harrumphed in mock indignation, and everyone 
joined in the laughter.  Even Sam forgot his misgivings in the light of 
fellowship and relaxation in the air.

~**************~

-To be continued


Title: Hidden strength (4/?)
Author: Xenobia
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Rating: R
Summary: Frodo is disturbed by a combination of dreams about Elrond 
and nightmares about the Nazgul.  Giving up on sleep, he takes a walk to 
clear his head...but he isn't prepared to bump into the elven king.
Disclaimer: Tolkien's characters, my story.  I don't make any money from 
this.
Warning: Rape, graphic sex


“Hidden Strength”
Part 4


	Frodo could not sleep.  His dreams prevented him from finding 
peace.  At first, they were pleasant dreams involving himself and Elrond.  
The hobbit smiled in his sleep and unconsciously hugged his pillow, as he 
would like to do with the elf.  His skin became flushed and a light sheen of 
perspiration formed on his brow.  He licked his lips and whispered the elf 
king’s name as his dreams became more heated.  Elrond’s mouth was 
worshipping his neck as the elf lifted Frodo into his arms, cupping his 
bottom.  Frodo’s legs were locked around Elrond’s waist, and he 
whimpered pleadingly as he felt the elf’s hard length pressing against his 
own.  That talented, sensitive mouth branded Frodo’s skin with wet heat as 
it traveled to his collar, the perfect teeth nipping gently.  Elrond pushed 
Frodo up against a tree and purred words of longing into his ear as he 
opened the hobbit’s shirt. 

	Frodo squeezed the pillow more tightly and caught his breath as 
the dream reached further heights.  Elrond was taking him now.  
Somehow, both of them had shed their clothing in the blink of an eye, and 
Frodo was pinned in helpless ecstasy against the tree.  Elrond stood naked, 
his long hands supporting Frodo’s bottom as he thrust his hardness 
rhythmically within the panting hobbit.

	Then the dream changed again.  Elrond’s beautiful features 
dissolved and blackened, and Frodo cried out in confused fear to hear the 
otherworldly, grating voice of a Nazgul saying, “Ours, halfling.  You 
belong to us now.”  

	“Stop it!  You are not real!” cried Frodo.  His cry became a gasp of 
pain as the creature thrust sharply into him.  The hobbit moaned and 
shoved at the shoulders of the Nazgul as it pumped its grave-cold flesh in 
and out of his tender body savagely.  “Elrond...Sam...help me!” Frodo 
screamed.

	It was then that he awoke.  He sat straight up in the bed, his 
sapphire eyes wild and staring as his lungs heaved for breath.  His erection 
dissolved and he suddenly had to urinate quite badly.  Nearly tripping over 
the covers and falling to the floor in his haste, the hobbit lurched to the 
privy in his private room.  He winced at the pain in his shoulder as he 
lifted the oversized nightshirt he wore so that he could aim into the 
chamberpot.  Shaking from head to toe and feeling nauseous, Frodo bit his 
lip and tried to calm himself.  He tried to imagine the tension leaving his 
body with the stream of waste he was depositing into the bowl.  “Just a 
dream...just a dream,” he whispered shakenly.

	When he was certain that his bladder was empty, he went to the 
sink and dampened a towel, then wiped his tender areas with it to clean 
them.  His hands weren’t shaking so badly when he set the towel on the 
edge of the sink.  “I shall never sleep now.  Perhaps a walk will do me 
some good,” he mused aloud, his gaze straying to his newly washed 
clothes.  He wished now that he had taken up Pippin’s offer to have one of 
his spare outfits.  Frodo’s own pack had been lost in his desperate flight to 
the fjord, and he now only had the one pair of trousers, the one shirt and 
the one jacket.  His bright gaze narrowed on the jacket pocket, where the 
ring resided.  “Damn you,” he whispered.  Whether he was blaming the 
ring for his nightmare, or his own weakness, he wasn’t certain.  

	As a reminder of its evil, his shoulder began to throb again.  The 
pain pulsed like a heartbeat, and he could swear that he heard the ring 
calling to him.  Part of him began to believe that if he would just put the 
ring on, some of the pain in his wounded shoulder might go away.  Or 
perhaps it would vanish altogether?  His head tilted to the side, and his 
pupils dilated as he crossed the room, staring at the pocket of his jacket all 
the while.  He realized what he was doing when his fingers encountered 
the smooth, gold band, and he jerked his hand away from the pocket as if 
it burned.  “No,” he said fiercely, baring his teeth in a little snarl, “I won’t 
let you have your way.  You can just stay in here and sulk, for all I care.”  

	It probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do; leaving the ring alone 
and risking someone taking it, but Frodo didn’t care at this point.  He was 
angry at the ring.  It had manipulated the wonderful dream he was having 
and turned it into a nightmare.  Logically, it could also have been caused 
by his stab wound and his own private fears, but Frodo needed to blame 
the ring.  It helped him to be angry at the blasted thing, so that he wouldn’t 
be tempted to put it on, as it clearly wanted him to.  Ignoring the ring’s 
soft, seductive calls, Frodo left the jacket where it was and changed into 
his clothes.  “Plead all you want,” he said to the ring as he walked to the 
door, “you can just stay here and think about the price for meddling with 
my dreams!”  He nearly slammed the door to accent his point, but realized 
that it might wake up the few people here who needed sleep at night.  The 
thought of a crabby Gandalf descending on him was enough to make 
Frodo rethink and shut the door quietly.

~*************~

	His furred feet made no sound as he walked the outdoor paths of 
Rivendell.  “So beautiful,” he whispered in admiration.  The architecture 
was so flowing and artful, and it somehow seemed to be a part of the 
nature that surrounded it.  Rivendell was more a haven than a city, in 
Frodo’s eyes.  He made a mental note not to speak out loud anymore, for 
there were elves wandering about.  He didn’t want them to think he was 
cracked, like the Shirefolk did!  It was strange to see people coming and 
going during this time of night.  It was nearly midnight, and Elrond’s 
people were still going about their business.  

	Frodo passed one elf who was sitting cross-legged on the ground, 
with his (her?) eyes closed.  The hobbit’s dark brows drew down as he 
tried to determine what gender they were.  Some of the elves were so 
androgynous in appearance that he could not quite decide, while others, 
like Elrond, were distinctly masculine or feminine.  Despite Elrond’s 
ethereal beauty, Frodo could sense the strength in the elven king.  He was 
definitely, perfectly male.  The hobbit blushed and scolded himself for 
letting his mind wander again.  He had never experienced such a heated 
crush on another individual before.  He worried that he was being shallow, 
at first.  Was it the elf lord’s physical beauty that drew him like a moth to 
a flame?  After a bit of soul-searching, Frodo decided that couldn’t be it.  
There were many elves, both male and female, which were just as 
stunning to look upon as Elrond.  

	It was his wisdom, Frodo decided.  Elrond was thousands of years 
old, though he looked to be only out of his tweens.  Frodo’s passion with 
history helped contribute to the obsessive attraction he had for Elrond.  
When he felt the elf king’s strength guiding him through the darkness, he 
had been in awe.  When he awoke to find a legend smiling down at him, 
that awe became reverence, mixed with bewilderment at how very 
beautiful Elrond was in the flesh.  He was Frodo’s hero.  The hobbit 
chuckled softly at this thought.  My, he was acting like a twit!  Elrond 
would probably laugh if he knew.  No...he wouldn’t laugh.  The elf king 
was far too tasteful and elegant to laugh out loud at a hobbit’s foolishness.  
Frodo had no doubt that Elrond would be laughing on the inside, though.

	Frodo was looking at the stars as he walked.  How brightly they 
shone here!  Or, he amended, perhaps they merely appeared brighter 
because of his new outlook on life.  Since his near-transformation, the 
hobbit had found a new appreciation for life.  Colors stood out more 
vividly, sounds had a more musical quality to them, and every emotion he 
felt was magnified.  Was it a result of his close call, or Elrond’s healing?  
Did those long, elegant hands bestow some of their magic upon him 
permanently?  “Ah, stop it!” he chided himself as the thought of the elf’s 
hands on his body made a little thrill go through him.  

	“Dar-ha, El Hen?”(1.) said a deep, melodic voice to Frodo’s left.  
The hobbit gasped as Elrond stepped out of the shadows with a curious 
expression on his face.

	“Umm...I was speaking to myself,” Frodo answered lamely.

	Elrond smiled and stopped before the hobbit.  “May I ask what 
about?”

	“I h-had a nightmare...it kept me from sleeping.  I was scolding 
myself for continuing to think about it," Frodo lied.  Oh, how he hated 
fibbing to the kind elf lord, but he certainly wasn’t going to say, “Oh, I 
was having lustful fantasies about you, Elrond.  Care to go off into the 
forest with me and make love?”  Oh no...that certainly wouldn’t do.

	Elrond’s features softened in sympathy, though his eyes said he 
didn’t quite believe that was the entire truth.  “I suppose my startling you 
so hasn’t helped.  My apologies, Frodo.”

	Frodo gave a rather high pitched squeak of nervous laughter.  “Oh 
no, Lord Elrond.  Please...I should have paid more attention to my 
surroundings, instead of muttering like a deranged idiot and wandering 
blindly.”

	Elrond’s lips twitched.  “Dear Frodo...you do have such a colorful 
way with words,” he said in a slightly uneven voice.

	Frodo smiled shyly.  “You can laugh out loud, you know.  I don’t 
mind, and I certainly understand if my quirkiness amuses you.  You are 
allowed to get away with it.”

	At this, Elrond did laugh out loud, and Frodo’s smile widened.  His 
laughter was so lovely, like soft chimes of music.  “There now, you see?  
You have a wonderful laugh,” Frodo said impulsively.

	Elrond’s laughter died down to a soft chuckle, and he tilted his 
head and studied Frodo’s smiling, sweet face.  If he didn’t know better, he 
would swear the hobbit was flirting with him!

	*I am flirting with him, * Frodo thought, his expressive blue eyes 
going blank, *that wasn’t meant to happen. *

	“Well, you do have a nice laugh,” Frodo dared to say, squaring his 
small shoulders, “and I think that people should hear it more often.”

	Elrond’s eyes went so soft and luminous that it was all Frodo could 
do not to climb onto the elf and kiss him right there.  “You are a wonder, 
young hobbit.  You are correct.  My laughter is indeed a rare thing, these 
days.  I’ve had little enough to laugh about, until you and your friends 
came to Rivendell.”

	Frodo felt sadness for the magnificent creature before him.  Of 
course, Elrond had little to laugh about.  He had overheard enough of 
Elrond and Gandalf’s conversations to understand the danger that 
Rivendell faced.  “Will you be...leaving Middle Earth?” Frodo questioned 
past the lump that began to rise in his throat.  He knew that many of the 
elves had already crossed the sea.  How long before Elrond and his folk 
left as well?

	Unable to help himself, Elrond reached down and lightly stroked 
Frodo’s silky cheek with his fingertips.  “Not for some time yet, El Hen.  
There is still much to do, and we are very reluctant to leave at such a 
crucial time.”

	Frodo closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against the fingers that 
touched him, like a cat leaning into a petting hand.  He did not see the look 
of desire spread across Elrond’s face from his action.  With his eyes still 
closed, Frodo whispered, “Why do you call me Star Child?”

	Elrond made himself retract his hand and school his features.  
“Well Frodo...You have a light within you that shines for all to see.  Your 
purity and grace reminds me of the stars I so love to gaze upon.”

	Azure eyes opened and gazed up at him wetly, and Elrond felt his 
heart contract as a large tear spilled down Frodo’s cheek.  “That’s lovely.  
I...I do not deserve...” the hobbit began, but Elrond’s fingertips pressed 
against his lips, forestalling the rest of what he was going to say.

	“Oh yes you do, Frodo Baggins.  Do not argue with me,” Elrond 
said sternly, though his tone was a gentle caress.

	Frodo nodded dumbly, too entranced with Elrond to even try to 
disobey.  For a moment, the two stood staring at one another, and Frodo 
nearly forgot himself and kissed Elrond’s pressing fingers.  He restrained 
himself, however, and took a deep breath when the elf king removed his 
hand and straightened up.  “Walk with me?” offered Elrond with a smile, 
“perhaps a stroll and some friendly company might make you forget about 
your nightmares.”

	“Yes...I would be happy to walk with you,” Frodo said eagerly.  
Too eagerly.  He blushed as one of Elrond’s elegant, dark brows lifted the 
slightest bit.  

	Together, they strolled down the paths of Rivendell.  Elrond led 
him onto a hill and gracefully seated himself on the grass.  “This is a 
lovely place to watch the stars, Frodo.  Care to sit with me?” he invited 
when the hobbit gazed down at him in puzzlement (though not too far 
down...the top of Elrond’s head still came up to Frodo’s shoulders when 
sitting).

	“Ah, yes.  Of course,” Frodo replied nervously, and he plopped 
down with all the grace of a drunken sailor.  The hobbit winced at the 
impact on his rear end, and he nearly overbalanced and fell over.  Elrond 
placed a steadying hand on Frodo’s back, and the hobbit blushed as his 
groin hardened from the touch.  A mere yard away from them was a tree.  
The moonlight splashed down on its leaves, bathing it in silvery light.  The 
good part of Frodo’s dream came roaring back at him, and the hobbit 
suddenly felt dizzy as he looked from the tree to Elrond.

	“Frodo!  Are you well?” questioned Elrond in concern as the 
hobbit swayed.

	Frodo nodded and took a deep breath.  “Yes, I’m fine, lord Elrond.  
Pardon me, I seem to have had a moment of dizziness.  It will pass.”

	Shaking his head, Elrond rubbed Frodo’s back soothingly as the 
hobbit took a few more deep breaths.  Frodo blinked his large blue eyes at 
the elf and smiled timidly.  “Thank you.”

	“You gave me a bit of a fright, my little friend.  Perhaps you 
should lie back for a few moments.” Elrond suggested.

	Frodo nodded and allowed the elf to gently lower him onto the 
ground.  Now lying on his back, Frodo stared in wonder at the scattered 
stars overhead.  “Goodness...I don’t remember that constellation,” he 
remarked, pointing straight up.

	Elrond followed his finger with his eyes and smiled.  “Ah yes.  
That is the pattern I like to call ‘The elven king’s folly’.”

	As rapt as a child, Frodo turned his magnificent eyes to Elrond.  
“What a peculiar name!  Will you tell me the story behind it?”

	Elrond forced his grin down and nodded solemnly.  “Aye.  There 
once was an elven king, who thought himself to be quite brilliant.  He 
surveyed his land proudly and swore that he knew every wonder that ever 
was.  Then a vision came to him.  ‘Twas a crusty old human with a 
pointed hat, who smelled strongly of Halfling pipeweed.  ‘Behold!’ cried 
the vision, ‘My powers are greater than yours, for I can yet make the most 
dignified feel foolish!’ And then, the crusty old wizard began to describe 
all of the feelings and desires that the elven king felt.  ‘Fear not thy 
feelings of love!  Instead, thou should pity the poor youth for being loved 
by the greatest of fools!’”

	Frodo’s brow was furrowed in perplexity, and Elrond nearly lost 
his composure and couldn’t finish.  The elven king paused for a moment 
and cleared his throat before finishing, “Then the vision disappeared in a 
puff of pipeweed, and before the elven king stood the fairest of all beings 
he had ever seen.”

	Frodo’s eyes clouded over as he tried to make sense of the insane 
story.  “I...see.  What did the elven king do?”  the crusty old wizard 
sounded suspiciously like Gandalf.

	Elrond glanced at Frodo sidelong and grinned, and the hobbit 
finally caught onto the gag and gasped, “You made that up!”

	With a look of feigned indignation, Elrond put a hand to his chest 
and retorted, “I would never!”

	Forgetting whom it was sitting next to him, Frodo rose and slapped 
Elrond lightly on the knee.  "You did!  You are the elven king, and 
Gandalf is the crusty old human!”  The hobbit burst into helpless peals of 
laughter, leaning against Elrond comfortably.

	Elrond held his offended expression for a moment longer, then his 
features lit up and he laughed with Frodo.  “Yes, I made that up.  I 
honestly don’t know what came over me, to be so silly.”

	Frodo sobered and gazed up at Elrond with a soft, puzzled smile.  
“I’m not sure I understand this riddle you’ve thrown at me.  Who is this 
‘fair being’ in your little story?”

	His innocence was astounding.  Elrond tried to think of a way to 
answer Frodo without sounding like a complete buffoon, but he had 
brought this on himself by constructing it in the first place.  He was 
amazed to feel his cheeks warm as he replied, “I am looking at him as we 
speak, Frodo.”

~****************~
(1.) Stop it, Star Child?
-To be continued

	

Title: Hidden Strength (5/?)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Rating: R
Summary: Frodo is momentarily speechless by Elrond's admission to him.  
Things get a bit heated, and past experiences are discussed.
Disclaimer: Tolkien's characters, my story.  I make no money from this.
Author's note: On Sindarin translation...finding a string of words in Elvish 
that means the same thing in English is a lot harder than I thought!  At one 
point, Frodo says, "I desire to give it," but I mis-translated and it came out 
as, "I desire to strip."  Though it wouldn't exactly be out of place in this 
chapter, I'm glad I double-checked. ;)


“Hidden Strength”
Part 5

	Frodo stared at Elrond with undisguised shock.  The elf king 
wondered if he had misinterpreted Frodo’s behavior.  Did what he think of 
as flirtation just happen to be a normal behavior pattern for hobbits?  
Elrond parted his lips to apologize, for the last thing that he wanted was to 
destroy this innocent creature’s trust in him and the newfound friendship 
they enjoyed together.  Elrond was mature enough to accept mere 
friendship with Frodo, though it ached his heart not to have more.

	“Frodo, I should not have-“ Elrond began to say, but the hobbit 
suddenly moved closer to him and rose up on his knees to press his mouth 
against the elf’s.  It was Elrond’s turn to be shocked as Frodo’s satiny lips 
moved against his with slow, sensual deliberation.  The hobbit’s tongue 
glided over Elrond’s lips, pushing gently between them to caress his teeth 
and gums.  Elrond shuddered and opened his mouth further; sucking on 
the warm tongue that explored him.  Innocent?  Did he think Frodo was 
innocent?  He would have to re-evaluate that opinion.  Frodo’s small 
hands cupped the elf’s face, the pads of his fingers drawing delicate circles 
over the smooth skin.

	Elrond’s arm came about Frodo’s waist and he pulled the hobbit 
into his lap.  The heat that was coursing through his body was maddening.  
Frodo made a slight purring sound in his throat and deepened the kiss, his 
tongue now thrusting demandingly into Elrond’s mouth.  The passion that 
erupted from this small person astounded the elf king.  The last time 
Elrond had experienced such sensuality in a mere kiss was...well, to be 
honest, he had never experienced it in this magnitude before.  Frodo’s 
little hands were sliding down his neck now, and they paused at his chest 
and began to work at the buttons of his shirt.  Elrond had always prided 
himself on his ability to control his body, even in the heat of passion.  All 
pride flew out the window as Frodo gracefully positioned his small frame 
and straddled the elf’s lap.  A groan disturbed the relative quiet of the 
night, and Elrond was humbled to realize that the groan came from him.  
Frodo’s erection pressed against the elf’s hardening groin, and his round 
little bottom rested on Elrond’s thighs.

	Hearing that beautiful voice make such a sound of need 
impassioned Frodo further, and he dragged his mouth over Elrond’s jaw 
and down, softly sucking at the skin of his neck.  His fingers pulled 
Elrond’s shirt open, and Frodo slid his hands in and explored the satiny 
chest.  The hobbit gave a thrilled little gasp when Elrond’s hands cupped 
his buttocks and pulled him harder against the bulge he was practically 
sitting on.  Frodo began to unconsciously undulate his hips, rubbing their 
arousal against each other.

	“Ai, Frodo,” gasped Elrond against Frodo’s neck, “nin bain El 
Hen!  Im boe sen!(1.)”  He sucked on the hobbit’s earlobe and started to 
work on Frodo’s shirt buttons, aroused beyond reason.

	Frodo’s voice was a sultry caress as he replied, “Im anira-anna-ha. 
(2.)”  He began to kiss the exposed V of ivory chest, and his eager little 
mouth fastened onto one of Elrond’s peach colored nipples.

	Elrond parted his lips and tilted his head back in pleasure as Frodo 
drew on the tight bud.  The elf pulled Frodo’s shirt open and slid the 
material down to expose a creamy shoulder.  He wanted to kiss the 
hobbit’s flesh, but it wasn’t possible while Frodo was worshiping his chest 
with his hands and mouth...Elrond simply couldn’t reach.  Instead, his 
long hands slid down the hobbit’s body and between his legs.  He cupped 
Frodo’s groin, gently rubbing and pressing through the trousers.

	Frodo moaned shakenly, and Elrond smiled when he felt a tiny 
damp spot on the material.  His little love was close to his peak, and he 
meant to bring him over the edge.  Frodo released Elrond’s nipple and 
returned to his mouth, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive lips hungrily 
and groaning in pleasure as the elf fondled his hardness.  

	“Mister Frodo...are you out there?  Are you all right?!” called 
Sam’s voice from the path below the entwined couple.

	They both froze, and Frodo swore softly at the untimely 
interruption.  Reluctantly, he crawled off of Elrond’s lap and stood up on 
shaky legs.  The elf stood up as well, and they both quickly rearranged 
their clothing as best they could, to hide the evidence of what they had 
been up to.  Sam’s curly blond head came into view, and Frodo called out 
to him.  “Up here, Sam.”

	The gardener wore a look of exasperated relief.  “Bless you, sir...I 
thought you might be in trouble!  I heard you cry out from my bedroom, 
and when I went to check on you, you were gone...but you left your jacket 
behind!  Then I thought I heard you moaning when I came this way.  Is 
everything all right?  I could make up a warm compress if your shoulder’s 
hurtin’ you.”

	Frodo gave Elrond an apologetic, yet amused look as Samwise 
rambled on.  “Yes Sam...everything is fine.  I merely had a nightmare, and 
I came out to clear my head.  Elrond and I have been talking.  I...I jarred 
my shoulder as I sat down, which is why I cried out.  It’s fine, now.”

	Sam breathed a sigh of relief, then blushed when he realized he 
had been completely ignoring lord Elrond.  “Oh, I beg your pardon, sir!  I 
was just so worried, you see-“

	“Think nothing of it, Samwise.  Frodo is dear to all of us, and I 
understand why your concern for him comes first.” Elrond interjected 
kindly.

	Sam nodded and lowered his gaze.  He wasn’t blind.  He saw how 
flushed Frodo’s cheeks were, and how bright his eyes were.  Both Frodo 
and Elrond were breathing heavily, and Mister Frodo stood gingerly, as if 
his breeches were too tight.  Yes sir, swollen lips and mussed hair was a 
sure giveaway that there was more happening here than “talking”.  He had 
done it again!  This was the second time he mistook a distant sound from 
Frodo to mean the gentlehobbit was in trouble.  At least this time, he 
hadn’t come running just in time to see...what he saw the last time.  Sam 
had mixed feelings about it.  On the one hand, he was happy that Frodo 
had the good fortune of catching the eye of such a heroic elf.  On the other 
hand, he was uneasy.  An odd stab of jealousy towards Elrond found it’s 
way into the loyal servant’s heart, and he ruthlessly stomped it down.

	“Sam...are you alright?” questioned Frodo.  The passion in his 
lapis gaze had cooled in concern, and he frowned at his friend.

	Sam shook himself out of his reverie and forced a cheery smile to 
his face.  “O’ course, Mister Frodo!  Now that I know you’re not hurt or 
nothin’, I’ll go back to bed.  Wake me up, if you need anything.”  He 
bowed awkwardly to Elrond, and the elf lord returned the bow with a 
grace that left the gardener breathless.  Sam quickly turned and went back 
the way he came.  He needed to examine his feelings more carefully.  
What right did he have to get jealous over Frodo being with someone, 
after all?  He had Rosie waiting for him back home.  “Can’t have your 
cake and eat it too, Samwise Gamgee,” he muttered to himself as he 
walked.

~***************~

	Frodo turned back to Elrond and smiled at him, his cheeks heating 
once again.  Now that their passion had cooled, he felt horrible for the 
wanton way he had attacked the elf.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I let my 
passion get the better of me...I’m truly not as promiscuous as I behaved 
earlier.”

	Elrond knelt smoothly before Frodo and caressed his face.  “I was 
not voicing any complaints, sweet one.  The passion raging within me was 
equally consuming.”  He kissed Frodo softly, pulling back before it could 
become heated again.  “I would like nothing better than to make love to 
you, right here under the stars.  However, I have more respect for you than 
that.  I wish to explore you, Frodo Baggins...every part of you.  From that 
pulsing, fiery spirit of yours to those sweet lips.  Rarely do I meet one 
such as you.”

	Frodo turned his head and kissed Elrond’s caressing palm tenderly.  
His blue eyes were luminous with emotion as he nodded.  “Yes...you are 
right, Elrond.  Bonds such as the one we share aren’t something to be 
rushed into.  I promise I shall try to behave.”

	Elrond laughed softly at the hobbit’s words and seated himself on 
the grass, gently pulling Frodo into his lap again.  His arms surrounded 
Frodo in a warm, strong embrace, and he kissed his soft curls and nuzzled 
his neck.  Ah, this was sweet torture.  Frodo’s back rested against Elrond’s 
chest, and his bottom pressed into the elf lord’s lap.  Elrond grimaced as 
his passion heated again and he tried to control his body.  It was no 
use...he hardened despite his best efforts, and Frodo shifted ever so 
slightly in enjoyment as he felt it pressing against his bottom.

	“This might have been more easily said than done,” Elrond sighed, 
hugging Frodo and kissing the spot below his ear.

	Frodo closed his eyes and smiled at the delicious sensation.  “It 
certainly is not easy,” he agreed, his small hands running up and down 
Elrond’s thighs sensually, “but what I feel is more than physical 
attraction...though my treacherous body won’t behave itself.”

	Elrond fought the urge to drop his hands into the hobbit’s lap and 
finish what he had begun before Samwise interrupted them.  “So tell me,” 
he whispered, “have you ever experienced love with another male before?  
I do not want to make you uncomfortable, Frodo.”  The hobbit’s searing, 
clever kiss and the way his skilled hands had moved over Elrond’s flesh 
earlier suggested that Frodo was quite experienced, but he wanted to be 
certain.

	Frodo nodded, a delicate blush creeping up on his fair cheeks.  
“Yes.  I began to experiment in my tweens.  I thought at first that it was 
just a phase, this preference to other lads that I had.  I never quite grew out 
of it, though.  Poor Sam, I’m surprised to this day that he doesn’t shy away 
from me.”

	Elrond lifted an eyebrow.  “You have had relations with 
Samwise?” it wouldn’t surprise him...and it would account for the 
worshipful way the gardener followed Frodo with his eyes.

	Frodo shook his head.  “Oh no...nothing like that.  Sam likes the 
lasses.  He will marry Rose Cotton someday.  I was referring to him...sort 
of...stumbling in on a tryst I was having with one of the Bolger lads one 
night.  Of course, I had no idea that he was there!  He told me the next 
day, poor thing.  He broke down into tears and said, ‘I didn’t mean to spy 
on you, Mister Frodo, but I was afraid if I moved you’d hear me, and then 
we’d all have been embarrassed!’  Apparently, he heard me moaning and 
went to the shed where we were...ahem...getting to know one another.  He 
thought someone was hurting me, you see.”

	Elrond smiled as Frodo chuckled softly.  The hobbit’s face was a 
delightful shade of pink as he continued, “Sam looked into the window to 
see how many lads were ‘beating me up’, so that he’d know if he needed 
to get help.  You can imagine what was going through his mind when he 
saw what was really happening.”

	Elrond shifted, his groin throbbing as he imagined what Sam might 
have seen.  “What...did he see, El Hen?” the elf questioned huskily, 
kissing Frodo’s ear.

	Frodo shivered, reaching his arm up and behind so that he could 
run his fingers through Elrond’s silken, raven hair.  “Perdoc was younger 
than I, and he was curious.  He said he wanted to know what it was like to 
be with a lad, just once.  He said I was the prettiest he had ever seen, and 
I’ll admit, he was a good-looking fellow.  I took him into the shed behind 
Bag End and allowed him to do as he wished.”

	Elrond closed his eyes, wondering if he could endure this.  His 
hands rubbed up and down Frodo’s arms as he murmured, “What did he 
wish to do?”

	Frodo smiled.  “He wanted to have me...to be inside of me.  I 
allowed him to do it.”

	Oh, Elbereth...this was truly torture.  Elrond might not be able to 
enjoy that privilege, due to their size difference.  There was possibly a 
way for he and Frodo to be together like that, but the elf king had no way 
of knowing it would work until he tried.  As he was not willing to rush 
Frodo into that sort of intimacy so soon, he found the idea of the hobbit 
describing his encounter with the Bolger lad to be quite enticing.  “Was it 
pleasant?” questioned the elf relentlessly.

	Frodo was caught up in the mood as well, and Elrond’s soft lips 
were caressing his neck and making him fantasize about the elf being in 
Perdoc’s place.  “Oh yes...he was experienced with the lasses, you see.  He 
was quite...aggressive.  He insisted that I be naked, yet he only removed 
his trousers.  He had me bend over the work table, so that I could rest my 
elbows on it.”

	Caught up in the story and his own arousal, Frodo didn’t even 
think of being embarrassed by describing the act to Elrond.  “It was a bit 
painful at first.  Perdoc was rather big, and even though we used oils to 
make his entrance easier, I cried out quite loudly when he entered me.  He 
was thrusting rather hard, and he stopped a couple of times and asked me 
if it was alright.”

	Elrond’s breath was quickening, and he ran his lips up and down 
Frodo’s neck and jaw.  “And what did you say?”

	Frodo gasped as those long fingers found his nipples through his 
shirt and gently squeezed them.  It took him a moment to remember where 
he was in the story.  “I said that I liked it that way.”

	Elrond said an elvish word that Frodo had never heard 
before...probably ancient dialect.  His voice was strangely hoarse as he 
cupped Frodo’s chin and turned his head.  Frodo moaned as the elf kissed 
him hard, his tongue thrusting deeply into the hobbit’s mouth.  Heat 
exploded through Frodo’s groin and belly as he teased Elrond’s thrusting 
tongue with his own, and the hobbit turned in the elf’s lap and whimpered 
against his mouth.  Before, Elrond had been so gentle, as if he was afraid 
that Frodo would break.  Now his kiss was a claiming fire that made the 
hobbit want him inside more than ever.  “Elrond,” he gasped against the 
other’s lips.

	The elven king heard the quiet plea of desperate longing in that 
gasp, and he forced himself to stop kissing Frodo.  Taking deep breaths, he 
held the hobbit at arms-length and said, “Ai, Frodo...I will break my 
promise to take things slowly, if this continues.  I lost control as I 
imagined what it would be like to...have you like that.”

	Frodo panted heavily and grit his teeth against the ache in his 
groin.  “I know,” he said breathlessly, “’twas just as much my fault.”  
They came together again, holding each other and fighting the unbearable 
need within them.  “Elbereth, you must think that I’m a wonton,” Frodo 
groaned, hiding his face in Elrond’s hair.

	The elf shook his head vehemently and cupped Frodo’s chin, 
forcing him to look up into his eyes.  “No, Frodo.  You forget, my people 
haven’t the constraints of others, when it comes to sharing pleasures of the 
body.  I see nothing wrong with enjoying such interludes with those you 
are attracted to.  I understand that Shirefolk are different, however.  I 
would not want to place a burden of guilt or shame on your shoulders.”

	Frodo toyed with a lock of Elrond’s hair and snuggled against him.  
His genitals were still swollen and throbbing, but he enjoyed the closeness 
they were sharing.  “I’m glad.  If you were a hobbit, you might have been 
disgusted at me.  My folk don’t actively have anything against 
experimenting with your own gender, but it’s expected for proper hobbits 
to marry and have children.  I should think they would drive me away, if 
they knew I deflowered the sons of three influential families.”

	Elrond snorted, then covered his mouth in surprise at the sound.  
He had never laughed so freely as he did around Frodo Baggins.  “Yet you 
say this fellow whom Sam caught you with had experience with the 
ladies?” he said past the soft chuckles.

	Frodo nodded.  “Yes...he was my fourth, and my last until I met 
you.”

	Elrond stroked Frodo’s hair and kissed his forehead, rocking him 
back and forth.  “I shall endeavor to be your last ever, if I have anything to 
say about it.”  The elf king went still and furrowed his brows.  What in the 
name of the Valar was he saying?  Such a possessive statement was not 
fitting of an elf...especially directed towards a mortal!

	Frodo didn’t seem to mind.  He sighed and looked up at Elrond 
with a teasing smile, his bright eyes sparkling.  “Ah, well...we shall have 
to see.  I’m difficult to satisfy, you know.”

	Elrond smirked.  “We shall see.”  He had over a thousand years of 
experience with same gender relations.  When the time was right, he 
intended to show Frodo just what he had learned in the ages he had lived 
on Middle Earth.

~***********~

	They held one another and kept the subject away from romance as 
best they could.  They shared stories and experiences (again, keeping off 
the subject of sexual experiences), and it might have gone on all night 
long, if Elrond hadn't begun to rub Frodo’s back and stroke his hair.  It felt 
so good that the hobbit’s blue eyes drifted shut, and he mumbled sleepily 
and snuggled deeper into the elf’s embrace.  Elrond smiled fondly at his 
small companion, admiring the way Frodo’s dark lashes cast such thick 
fringe over his cheekbones.  Never had he seen such long eyelashes...not 
even on one of his own people.

	He could tell when Frodo fell asleep.  The hobbit’s breathing 
became deep and even, and his face relaxed.  Elrond stared down at the 
fair features in appreciation.  Frodo was so very sweet and ethereal in 
appearance.  A dull ache throbbed in Elrond’s breast as his mind turned to 
what may have to be, in the near future.  If they could not find a suitable 
person, this small, delicate being that he held in his arms would be the 
only hope for Middle Earth.  The possibility of Frodo bearing the evil of 
the One Ring all the way to Mordor put a sense of dread in Elrond’s heart.  
“If only I could protect you from this,” he whispered as he lightly stroked 
the hobbit’s face.  Frodo stirred slightly and shifted in his arms, but he did 
not wake.

~*************~
(1.)	Ah, Frodo, my beautiful Star Child!  I need this!
(2.)	I desire to give it.


Title: Hidden Strength (6/?)
Author: Xenobia
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond (also Merry/Pippin, but not detailed)
Rating: PG-13
Summary:  Elrond holds back from taking the final step in the relationship 
that he and Frodo have formed.  Frodo misnunderstands his reasons and 
begins to wonder if the elf lord is having second thoughts.  Merry and 
Pippin unwittingly set things into motion, and Sam tries to deal with his 
own personal issues.
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns Middle Earth and all of the characters.  I just 
like to write about them.  I make no money from doing this.


“Hidden Strength”
Part 6

	Frodo felt movement.  He blinked his sleepy eyes open in 
confusion, and found himself still in Elrond’s arms.  The elven king was 
carrying him back towards the housing area.  Frodo was surprised to see 
that the sky was lightening with the coming dawn.  “You held me all 
night?” he whispered, looking up at Elrond drowsily.

	The elf smiled down at him.  “Yes, Frodo.  You were resting so 
peacefully that I was loath to wake you.  I must admit that I enjoyed 
holding you, as well.”

	Frodo grinned happily and snuggled deeper into Elrond’s arms.  
His rest had been dreamless and deep, without the usual fears lurking 
about the edges of his mind to disturb it.  “If only I could rest in your arms 
every night,” he hobbit sighed, closing his eyes again.

	Elrond planted a soft kiss on Frodo’s forehead, not concerned in 
the least that others were nearby to see it.  The few elves the couple passed 
merely smiled at the sweet picture that their lord and the hobbit made 
together.  They were too patient and relaxed a people to let the difference 
in size and race disturb them.  Elrond carried Frodo into the building and 
down the delicately arching halls.  He shifted the hobbit when he reached 
Frodo’s room, so that he could turn the knob and open the door.

	Frodo stirred as he was carried to his bed.  He felt the ring calling 
him.  On the bright side, it meant that nobody had taken it during his 
absence.  On the downside, he must return to dealing with the thing’s 
unwholesome influence again.  “Elrond?” he said as the elf lord lay him 
down and began to cover him up.

	“Yes, el hen?”

	“I know that you’ve got important things to do, with the day of the 
council drawing near, but would you stay with me for a while longer?” his 
blue gaze flicked to his jacket across the room, where the ring was waiting 
in the pocket. 

	Elrond saw the touch of fear in Frodo’s eyes.  He understood.  The 
hobbit was afraid of the ring, yet he was drawn to it as well.  Elrond 
caressed Frodo’s cheek and seated himself on the edge of the bed.  “Of 
course, dear Frodo.  There is little planning left for me to worry myself 
with.  All of the arrangements have been made, and I certainly have no 
objections to spending more time with you.  I merely did not want to 
intrude on any privacy you may wish to have.”

	Frodo smiled and pulled the covers aside in invitation.  Elrond 
hesitated.  Would he be able to continue holding this fair creature without 
ravishing him?  All through the night as Frodo slept in his arms, the elf 
battled inwardly with the desire to take him to a secluded area and make 
love to him.  The effect that Frodo had on both his body and heart was 
astounding.  Elrond had examined his feelings through the night, carefully 
picking them apart and examining them with a critical eye.  He had gained 
the wisdom in the ages he had lived on Middle Earth to discern the 
difference between infatuation and love.  By the time the sky had begun to 
lighten, the elf king was sure.  He was in love with Frodo Baggins.  As 
impossible as it seemed in such a short time of knowing the hobbit, Elrond 
could not deny the truth.  His heart yearned for Frodo as much as his body 
did, which made the cravings of his body stronger.

	Elrond’s hesitation confused Frodo.  After what they had shared 
during the night, and after holding him until dawn, why was the elf now 
reluctant to lie beside him? “What’s the matter?” Frodo questioned softly.

	Elrond gave himself a mental shake and smiled down at the hobbit.  
“I want you...that is what the matter is.  I will not hide the truth from you, 
Frodo.  Holding you is a sweet torment, and as one who doesn’t truly 
sleep, I fear that I might keep you awake with my selfish desires.”

	Frodo’s lips parted, and he blushed delicately.  Well, Elrond 
certainly told things as they were!  All of Frodo’s past lovers, even those 
who were younger than him, tended to be patronizing towards him.  His 
innocent appearance gave them the impression that he was fragile, and 
must be protected from the truth if they perceived that truth to be harmful.  
Not so, with this wonderful elf.  Elrond’s honesty touched Frodo deeply, 
for it proved that the elf viewed him as an equal, instead of a pretty youth 
that was not mature enough to be told the truth.

	“Well, I am willing to take that risk,” Frodo said a bit breathlessly, 
laying his small hand on Elrond’s knee, “I’m sure you’re strong enough to 
resist.”  A teasing smile lifted the corner of the hobbit’s mouth, and his 
sapphire eyes twinkled playfully.  He patted the mattress with his other 
hand and looked at Elrond expectantly.

	Elrond chuckled and lay down beside Frodo, pulling his smaller 
form into his arms.  “You are a stubborn one, Master Baggins,” he 
murmured, nuzzling Frodo’s soft curls.

~*************~

	When Frodo wasn’t with his friends, he was with Elrond.  He and 
the elf lord took what private moments they could, often walking through 
the gardens and discussing philosophy together.  As the time for the 
council grew nearer, Frodo became more restless and frustrated.  Elrond 
would not allow their affection to go farther than tender kisses and the 
occasional, passionate touching that Frodo enjoyed so much.  He 
wondered if he was doing something wrong.  Despite Elrond’s admittance 
that he wanted to make love to him, Frodo sensed the elf holding back.  
Perhaps Elrond was changing his mind.  After all, Frodo was the size of a 
child, compared to Elrond.  Mayhap he found the idea of coupling with 
Frodo to be repulsive.

	It was Merry that noticed Frodo’s melancholy mood.  It was the 
day before the council would meet, and the four hobbits watched as 
representatives of the races showed up at the gates of Rivendell.  Rough-
featured Dwarves, stern, forbidding Men, and graceful, proud elves with 
fair hair and woodland green clothes entered the city.  The magnitude of 
what was happening finally began to dawn on the Shirefolk.  

	Merry noticed that Frodo seemed the least interested in the 
appearance of the other races.  The gentlehobbit’s blue eyes were distant 
as he stood beside his friends in the courtyard and watched the procession 
being led to their separate guesthouses.  “What’s the matter, Frodo?” 
Merry asked.

	Frodo shook his head and lowered his gaze.  Sam looked at his 
master with sympathetic, brown eyes.  They all knew how close Frodo and 
Elrond had become during their stay in Rivendell, but Samwise saw the 
restraint that the elf lord was showing.  Each time Elrond took Frodo’s 
small hand and led him into the gardens, Sam saw the hopeful expression 
on his master’s face and the way the blue eyes stared up at the elf in 
adoration.  Sam also saw the disappointed slump in Frodo’s slender 
shoulders each night, when the gentlehobbit returned to his room.  He 
didn’t mean to spy on Frodo, but he was worried about him...and the 
anxiety the gardener felt grew worse as the council day approached.  Sam 
kept quiet and averted his gaze, trying to think of something to do to busy 
himself.

	“Come on, Frodo.  I’m your cousin...I can tell something’s 
bothering you.  Is it the ring?” Merry prompted.

	Frodo’s hand strayed to his jacket pocket.  No, it wasn’t the ring, 
but Merry mentioning the cursed thing brought it into Frodo’s awareness.  
“It is nothing I can’t handle, Merry,” Frodo said in a subdued voice.

	Merry exchanged a worried look with Pippin as Frodo absently 
rubbed his wounded shoulder.  “You’re shoulder’s stiff again?  I’ve got a 
cure for that,” the Brandybuck said with a sudden smile.

	Frodo raised an eyebrow at his cousin.  “What do you mean?” he 
questioned.

	“We found a nice, secluded hot spring, deep in the gardens 
yesterday,” replied Pippin with a glint in his eye, “there are some deep 
spots, especially by the waterfall, but it only comes up to the waist by the 
edges.”

	Frodo frowned.  A hot spring with a waterfall?  What was the 
source?

	“Come on, Frodo.  Let’s all have a soak,” suggested Merry, putting 
his arm around the more slender hobbit.

	“What if we get into trouble?” questioned Samwise nervously, “I 
don’t think the elves would like, it if they found out we were using their 
spring as a bathtub!”

	Pippin rolled his eyes.  “You worry too much, Sam.  Unwind a bit 
for a change!”  The Took grabbed Samwise by the elbow.

	Frodo and Sam reluctantly allowed the Bucklanders to guide them 
through the winding paths to this secluded spot.  Frodo’s shoulder was 
throbbing and numb today, and the idea of soaking in hot water was 
appealing to him.  Perhaps his cousins were on to something.  He glanced 
at Sam, who was looking a bit pale.  The gardener had lived all his young 
life in Hobbiton, and like other Shirefolk in that area, he had an aversion 
to water.  Bathing was one thing, but immersing oneself in a river, lake or 
pool was asking for trouble.  “Don’t worry, Sam.  I shall go in first and 
show you how far you can go before it starts to get deeper,” Frodo 
soothed.

	As the foliage became thicker, they could hear the sound of 
splashing water.  “Don’t worry, it’s not a big waterfall,” Merry explained 
as he guided them off the path towards the sound, “It comes down off of 
some rocks...it’s about as wide as a Man is tall...or an elf-“

	As he said this, they entered the clearing, and ironically there was 
an elf already in the spring.  Merry choked on what he was saying, and all 
four hobbits came to an abrupt halt and stared.  It was Elrond.  He was 
completely, gloriously nude, and he stood beneath the waterfall with his 
head tilted back, rinsing his dark hair.  The water in the pool only came up 
to his mid-thigh.  “Now, that’s a pretty picture,” Pippin said breathlessly.

	Frodo thought his heart was going to explode in his chest.  Elrond 
was everything he had dreamed of, and more.  The elf’s smooth-muscled 
limbs were long and graceful, his hips were lean, his stomach flat and 
defined, his chest smooth and flawless.  His ivory skin glistened with 
drops and tiny rivulets of water in the afternoon light.  Frodo swallowed 
hard as his hungry gaze slowly took in every detail of Elrond’s form, and 
his cheeks flushed when he saw the elf lord’s groin.  Elrond’s manhood 
was long and thick, nestled in a soft down of raven fur.  Frodo’s breeches 
filled uncomfortably as he imagined touching that beautiful shaft.  How 
much bigger would it be when erect?  Even in repose it was as large as 
Frodo’s when he was fully aroused.  Elbereth, was it even possible for he 
and Elrond to make love the way Frodo wanted to?  Surely the elf couldn’t 
fit in his small body.

	“Stop starin’ at him!” Hissed Samwise in embarrassment as his 
three companions ogled the elf king.  He grabbed Merry and Pippin by 
their arms and began to drag them away.  “What if he sees you all rapin’ 
him with your eyes!”  

	“Ow, Sam...that hurts!” complained Pippin, but neither he nor 
Merry resisted as the gardener pulled them back to the path.

	“Mister Frodo?” Sam said, looking over his shoulder at the 
stricken gentlehobbit.  He certainly wasn’t going to order Frodo to turn 
away.  Seeing that his master was too absorbed in the spectacle of the elf 
bathing, Sam shook his head and continued to the path with Merry and 
Pippin.  “Stay here, you two...I’m goin’ back for mister Frodo,” he said 
with a stern glare.  Merry and Pippin merely shrugged, still in shock from 
the sight.

	Sam’s cheeks were hot with mortification as he returned to find 
Frodo lying stomach-down on the grass with his chin propped in his hand.  
Sam crawled up next to his master, noting that Frodo had a perfect view of 
Elrond under the cover of the bushes, without being spotted himself.  
"Mister Frodo, I know I ain’t the one to be telling you what’s right and 
what’s wrong, but don’t you think it’s a mite bit rude to peep on lord 
Elrond like this?” he whispered.

	Frodo’s blue eyes were filled with such longing that Sam had to 
look away when they turned to him.  For a moment, the gardener envied 
Elrond, to have Frodo desire him like that.  “I know you’re right, Sam.  
I...I couldn’t help myself.  I am a cad.” Frodo whispered, his cheeks 
coloring.

	Sam’s heart went out to his friend.  For whatever reason, it was 
clear that Frodo and Elrond hadn’t taken the final step to relieve their 
hunger for each other.  He wasn’t so certain the dignified elf lord would 
have been able to turn away, had the situation been reversed.  “Why don’t 
you go to him, then?” he said without thinking.  Sam’s eyebrows raised as 
he realized what he had just suggested.  “Er...I mean...that is...” he 
stammered, trying to fix his error.

	“Oh,” Frodo said, his pupils dilating, “oh Sam...I don’t know if I 
could!  What if he turns away from me?”

	Sam looked Frodo up and down, and a doubtful expression found 
its way onto his face.  “I don’t think he would turn away from you, mister 
Frodo.  How could he?”  He was doing it again.  The gardener cursed his 
own double standards.  Finally, he sighed.  He wanted Frodo happy, above 
all else.  Laying a gentle, supportive hand on the slimmer hobbit’s 
shoulder, he gazed deeply into his master’s clear blue eyes and whispered, 
“I’m going to tell you the same thing you told me about Rosie, mister 
Frodo.  How are you gonna know, if you don’t try?  Go to him, me dear.”

	Frodo bit his lip, his eyes flicking from Sam to Elrond and back 
again.  “Should I get undressed?” he said shyly.

	Sam cleared his throat.  Frodo was more experienced in the ways 
of desire than he was, yet the gentlehobbit was as unsure as a virgin as he 
gazed at the gardener questioningly.  How odd, to have mister Frodo 
asking him for advice!  “I don’t rightly know, sir.  Uh...I’d say you should.  
I mean, he might think it’s unfair that he’s naked and you’re fully clothed, 
after all.”  Goodness gracious, his cheeks were hot!  Sam wondered if his 
face was going to catch on fire soon.

	Frodo nodded slowly, blinking his eyes.  “Yes...yes, you are right, 
Sam.”  And then the smaller hobbit eagerly began to unbutton his shirt.  
His hands were shaking with fear and anticipation.  “I cannot believe I’m 
doing this,” Frodo said with a nervous chuckle, “Elrond isn’t the same as 
the others I’ve been with...oh, Sam...do you think he will find me 
attractive?  My body, that is?  I’m so small and skinny!”

	Sam’s eyes were dazed as he watched his master undress.  He 
swallowed hard and answered, “You ain’t skinny, mister Frodo.  You’re as 
lithe and lovely as an elf.”

	It was then that Frodo heard the husky note of desire in Sam’s 
voice.  He paused at the last button of his shirt and raised confused blue 
eyes to his friend.  Sam averted his gaze uncomfortably and murmured, “I 
should go...I’ll make sure Merry and Pippin don’t bother you none.”  He 
stood up and began to walk away, then he paused and said, “Don’t worry, 
mister Frodo.  If Elrond sees even half of what I see in you, he won’t say 
no.”

	Frodo’s mouth was slack as Sam disappeared behind the foliage.  
“Oh, surely not,” Frodo whispered to himself as he wondered if Sam had 
sexual feelings towards him.  Perhaps the gardener was confused.  Frodo 
knew that Sam had always found him to be pretty, but the sturdy gardener 
was a pure, innocent soul...sweeter than he was judgmental.  Maybe the 
danger that they had all been through together had thrown Sam into such 
concern for him that he THOUGHT he had sexual feelings for him.  That 
would make sense, Frodo decided.

	The hobbit’s gaze moved back to the waterfall, where Elrond was 
blissfully allowing the crystalline wetness to cascade over his body.  
“Sam’s right...I must know,” Frodo whispered, unable to stand the torture 
of seeing such beauty without touching it.  He returned to the task of 
removing his clothing, and he prayed to Elbereth that he would not be 
rejected.

~***********~

-To be continued


Title: Hidden Strength (7/?)
Author: Xenobia
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Rating: R
Summary: Frodo struggles to overcome his insecurity as he debates 
whether or not to join Elrond in the spring.  Restraints are laid aside, and 
promises are made.
Disclaimer: Tolkien's characters, my story.  I make no money from this


“Hidden Strength”
Part 7

	Frodo got his shirt opened up and was just about to remove his 
jacket when he paused.  The ring.  Could he leave it unguarded on the 
bank?  He brought his emotions under control and thought on this.  
Perhaps, if he was going to go through with this, he should move around 
to the other side of the pool, where the waterfall was.  That way, it would 
be close by.  “If I do not lose my nerve, that is,” he reflected.  He still 
wasn’t sure that he could strip and simply join Elrond without invitation.  
While the elf king wasn’t avoiding him (indeed, Elrond showed up at his 
door at precisely the same time every night, and his smile was always 
warm and, dare Frodo think, loving), he began to wonder if it was an 
invasion of Elrond’s privacy to interrupt his bathing this way.

	Despite his trepidation, Frodo quietly snuck around the outer edges 
of the pool.  Several times, he nearly tripped, for he couldn’t help but stare 
at Elrond’s beauty.  He finally made it to the side near the waterfall, and 
he resumed stripping.  He swallowed repeatedly, trying to bring moisture 
to his dry mouth and throat.  Frodo winced as he pulled his jacket and shirt 
off.  His shoulder throbbed, and he briefly touched the partially healed 
scar.  It was an ugly thing...would Elrond be repulsed by it?  “Don’t be 
silly, Frodo Baggins,” he whispered to himself, “He has seen it at its 
worse...if it repulsed him, surely things wouldn’t have gone as far between 
the two of you as they have already.”

	With shaking fingers, he unfastened his trousers and pulled them 
down.  As he stepped out of them, he glanced down at his erection and 
smirked.  Well, he might not be as large as Elrond, but for a hobbit, he was 
exceptional.  He had seen uglier examples of male genitalia than his own.  
Still, his wasn’t as pretty as the elf lord's.  Gritting his teeth against his 
insecurity, Frodo emerged from the bushes and quickly stepped into the 
water.  His sapphire gazed stayed on Elrond as he slowly walked deeper 
and deeper into the spring.  He prayed that his seduction plan wouldn’t 
completely backfire and leave him in shame and humiliation.

~*****************~

	Elrond bowed his head and let the warm water rush over him and 
drown out the sounds of the world.  Tomorrow was the day of the council.  
For better or for worse, Frodo would be a part of that council, and the 
outcome.  Oh, what he wouldn’t give to keep the hobbit safe from these 
troubles!  He could not, however.  His intervention would only make 
things more difficult, and he knew that Frodo was more capable of making 
his own decisions and taking care of himself than most thought.  The elf 
lord was torn between his desire to love and protect Frodo and the cold 
truth that the ring must be destroyed.  Somehow, he knew that Frodo was 
their only hope, and the knowledge hurt both his heart and his spirit.

	Elrond sensed the presence of another person close by.  This did 
not bother him, as there were many of his people who used this spring for 
bathing and relaxation.  The “soap” which the elves used to bath 
themselves with was entirely natural, and did not pollute the water.  It was 
peculiar for another of his people to choose this time of day, however.  
Most of them preferred to do it at night, so that they could watch the moon 
and stars reflect on the heated water as they soaked.  The elf king 
shrugged.  So there was another who sought to escape the tension of so 
many races in Rivendell at once.  He certainly wouldn’t begrudge them 
the same luxury that he was now enjoying.

	He turned slightly to give a polite greeting, and the words stuck in 
his throat.  Elrond rubbed his eyes to clear the water from them, certain 
that he was hallucinating.  No, he wasn’t imagining it.  Frodo Baggins was 
wading towards him, without a stitch of clothing on.  The hobbit’s wide, 
blue eyes were shy and uncertain as they gazed up at Elrond.  The elf’s 
breath caught in his throat as his glittering eyes took in the sight of 
Frodo’s lithe form.  But for the scar on his left shoulder, which was still an 
angry red in the center, the hobbit was a vision of perfection.  Though 
small in stature, Frodo was smooth muscled and graceful.  His fully 
aroused penis was peach-ivory, with a rose tinted flush to the heart-shaped 
knob at the tip.  He was better endowed than Elrond would have expected, 
given his slender frame.  The elf felt himself harden in response, and 
Frodo’s bright gaze flicked to Elrond’s groin as the hobbit noticed it 
stirring.

	Frodo’s delicate lips smiled slightly, and a relieved expression 
relaxed his exquisite features.  * He was afraid that I would reject him,* 
Elrond realized with a bit of surprise.  Why did Frodo think himself 
unworthy of the elf lord’s love?  The roaring in Elrond’s ears could have 
been from the waterfall or the fierce pounding of his heart...he could not 
distinguish between the two.  “Oh, Frodo,” he whispered achingly.  He 
could no longer hold back his desire to worship that small, lovely form.  
Forgetting that he was standing on a raised area beneath the falls, Elrond 
beckoned the halfling and said, “Come to me, el hen.”  

	Frodo’s breath quickened as he moved to do as Elrond asked.  He 
was a mere four feet away when he disappeared beneath the water with a 
small cry of surprise.  Elrond gasped and slid into the deeper area where 
Frodo had gone under.  It came up to the elf’s neck, but for the hobbit, it 
was far over his head.  Elrond assumed that Frodo could not swim, based 
on what he knew of the Shirefolk and their fear of water.  The elf started 
to duck beneath the water and search for Frodo frantically, but the hobbit 
emerged at that moment, coughing and sputtering.

	“So much for gracefully seducing you,” Frodo coughed, his cheeks 
bright pink with embarrassment.

	Elrond caught his small companion around the waist and laughed 
helplessly at his candid words.  “Ah, but the ‘hobbit in distress’ routine 
works just as well as slow seduction,” he purred, kissing the smooth skin 
of Frodo’s neck.  He was caught off guard as Frodo wrapped his legs 
around his waist and put his arms around his neck.  The hobbit crushed his 
small mouth against his, pressing his hardened groin against Elrond’s 
belly as he kissed him hungrily.  Elrond was taken aback, both by Frodo’s 
unrestrained eagerness and by the trembling that was shooting through his 
body.  My, he was an unpredictable creature!

	Frodo could feel Elrond’s hard length against his bottom, and the 
hobbit whimpered and rubbed against it.  Though a part of him stood back 
and hollered that he was behaving like one of those harlots in Bree, the 
other part that needed Elrond so desperately didn’t care.  He told his 
morals to kindly take a walk, and he slipped his tongue past Elrond’s 
parted lips and explored his mouth.  Elrond sucked gently on his tongue 
and cupped his bottom, strong fingers kneading the soft firmness 
sensually.  He pulled back for a moment and stared deeply into Frodo’s 
eyes.

	“Im anira-an echad-meleth, el hen,(1.)” Elrond whispered huskily, 
and he gently pressed a finger against Frodo’s tight entrance, making him 
gasp in delight.

	“Oh, yes,” sighed Frodo, pressing down against the elf’s questing 
finger, “please, Elrond!”  He had been fantasizing about that very thing, 
almost since he laid eyes on the elf king.

	Elrond continued to softly stroke and press against the sensitive 
spot.  He wanted to be inside of his delicate companion, he had not lied.  
However, he was extremely worried about whether Frodo could 
accommodate him.  The very last thing that he wanted to do was cause 
harm to the halfling.  “We must be careful, fair one,” he breathed, kissing 
Frodo’s trembling lips, “you are much smaller than I, and this water would 
keep your passage from being properly prepared for me.”

	It took Frodo a moment to register what Elrond was talking about, 
so good did his fingers feel against him.  Of course, the elf was right.  
They needed lubrication, and the warm spring water would wash it away 
before the act could begin.  “Yes,” he murmured, slightly downcast, “you 
are absolutely right.”

	Elrond smiled at him, hearing the note of frustration in his soft 
voice.  “Because we cannot do it here does not mean that I cannot give 
you pleasure,” he said, and he supported Frodo’s buttocks with one hand, 
while reaching between their bodies with the other.  Frodo’s eyes went 
blank and heavy lidded as Elrond’s fingers curled around his throbbing 
erection.

	“Oh....ahhh,” Frodo gasped, his lips parted and slack with pleasure 
as Elrond began to pull at his penis in firm, long strokes.  The elf kissed 
him softly, murmuring something that Frodo couldn’t make sense of in his 
passion.  The hobbit’s fingers pressed delicately into Elrond’s shoulders as 
the elf pleasured him.  “I...I want to do...the same for you,” Frodo gasped, 
reaching down and struggling to stretch his arm enough to touch Elrond as 
well.

	“There will be plenty of time for that later, melui el hen,” replied 
Elrond huskily, “for now, just relax against me and allow me to touch 
you.”

	“H-how much later?” Frodo whimpered, arching his back slightly 
as the pleasure began to build.  

	Elrond chuckled softly and nibbled the hobbit’s sensitive earlobe.  
“Tonight, my impatient little darling.  I will come to you tonight.” He slid 
the hand that was supporting Frodo’s bottom further down and cupped the 
hobbit’s full testicles, softly squeezing them.

	Frodo gave a shaken gasp of delight and groaned, his nostrils 
flaring as he breathed in the clean scent of his elven lover.  "Nin bain 
calben hir,(2.)” he moaned, “I love you.”

	Elrond almost froze at those sweet words, but he managed to keep 
his wits about him as he replied, “And I love you, Frodo.”  He kissed his 
lover passionately and increased the pressure and speed of his fondling.  
His lips muffled Frodo’s loud groan of release, and Elrond smiled as he 
felt the hobbit’s penis pulsate in his hand.  He kissed Frodo’s forehead 
tenderly as the hobbit trembled in his arms and caught his breath.  Once 
again, Frodo had proven himself to be braver than most.  By uttering the 
words that Elrond himself had been afraid of speaking, the hobbit showed 
how willing he was to take risks.  Elrond closed his eyes and held Frodo 
more tightly as that realization brought with it the possibility of his small 
lover going into danger with the ring of power.

	After Frodo recovered from the dizzying pleasure of his release, he 
murmured, “I see your talents don’t just lie in healing.” And he kissed 
Elrond’s neck.  He had never experienced such a skilled touch on his 
body, and he felt weak from it.

	Elrond’s lips twitched against the hobbit’s smooth skin as he tried 
to hold back the grin of pride that pulled at his lips.  “Ah, I shall take that 
as an enormous compliment, coming from one who is not easily satisfied.”

	Frodo blushed at the reminder of his bold statement a few nights 
ago.  He had laced the truth with teasing when he had said it, more to 
entice Elrond than to challenge him.  “Have I inflamed your ego, my 
lord?” he said, tilting his head back to look into the elf’s laughing eyes.

	“Not at all.  I was just thinking of how I shall enjoy showing you 
how much more I can give you,” Elrond returned.  He kissed Frodo’s ear 
and purred, “I intend to have you crying out like that all night long, Frodo 
Baggins.”

	Frodo’s body responded immediately and shamelessly to the elf’s 
promise, and he groaned and rested his forehead against Elrond’s 
shoulder.  “What HAVE I gotten myself into this time?” he said jokingly.

	Elrond stroked his back and laughed softly.  “You shall find out 
when the moon rises, my beloved hobbit.”

~*************~

(1.)	I desire to make love, star child
(2.)	My beautiful elf lord


Title: Hidden strength (8/?)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Rating: R
Summary: It's the night before the Council of Elrond is to take place, and Frodo is 
nervous for more reasons than the meeting.  Frodo and Elrond throw aside all constraints 
and decide to act on their feelings, for both of them sense the coming troubles, and the 
possibility that this could be their last chance.
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns all of these characters and Middle Earth.  I don't make any 
money from writing this.


“Hidden Strength”
Part 8

	Concentrating on eating dinner was a difficult task, indeed.  Not only was Frodo’s 
stomach filled with butterflies of anticipation for what was to come later in the evening, 
but also the presence of so many different races in the magnificent dinging hall made it 
worse.  The humans seemed a bit self-assured and arrogant to him...especially the 
imposing man called Boromir.  He was a great warrior, like Aragorn.  Frodo could see 
that, but he also saw flaws in the Gondor man’s personality that the ranger did not 
possess.  Bull-headed, Sam’s father would have said.  Yes...Boromir was the sort who 
would not let go, once an idea found it’s way into his head.

	The stout dwarves were quite vocal, but Frodo found that he liked them.  Bilbo 
had been among the party of Gimli’s father when they defeated Smaug, and the elder 
hobbit chatted companionably with the auburn-bearded dwarf of old times.  Though they 
made a good show of being comfortable, Frodo could see that the dwarves were ill at 
ease in the Elven City.  There were still bad memories between the two races...especially 
towards the elves of Mirkwood, who sat at a separate table.

	Frodo learned that the speaker for the Mirkwood elves was their prince, Legolas.  
He and Aragorn sat beside each other and chatted as they ate, and it was clear to the 
hobbit that they were old friends.  Occasionally, one of the Mirkwood elves or one of the 
dwarves would make a snide remark about the other, which was promptly returned.  

	Frodo stared at his food and pushed it around with his fork.  

	“What’s the matter, mister Frodo?” asked Sam in a low whisper, “You ain’t 
eating.  You need to keep up your strength so your shoulder’ll heal faster.”

	Frodo smiled at his friend and forced himself to take a bite of potato.  He really 
wasn’t hungry.  The veiled hostility between the dwarves and the Mirkwood elves added 
to his already frazzled nerves, and he was afraid that if he looked up at Elrond, he might 
burst into hysterical giggles.  Gandalf settled a brewing argument between the elves and 
dwarves by threatening to turn them all into stone if they did not cease their bickering, 
and Frodo breathed a sigh of relief when both parties calmed down.  He dared to peek at 
Elrond through lowered lashes.  The elf king was having problems of his own.  It seemed 
that Boromir was asking him endless questions about the purpose of the meeting, and no 
answer that Elrond could give would satisfy him.  The elf lord clearly didn’t want to state 
the true purpose of the council in front of everyone at the table...it was meant to be a 
secretive meeting.

	For just a moment, long, indigo elven eyes met wide, sapphire hobbit ones across 
the table, and Elrond smiled tenderly at Frodo.  The hobbit felt warmed clear to his toes, 
and some of the butterflies vacated his stomach, though his heart increased its rhythm.  
His blue eyes became unfocused as he daydreamed of getting up from his chair, walking 
over to Elrond, and crawling into the elf lord’s lap.  He hardly noticed when his food 
plate was removed and replaced with a dessert dish.

	“Pudding!” cried Pippin in delight, startling Frodo out of his daydream.  The 
gentlehobbit blushed as Merry looked at him quizzically.  Frodo realized he had been 
staring at Elrond the entire time, probably with an expression on his face that left little 
doubt of what was on his mind.  He ignored the knowing grin that his cousin flashed at he 
and Elrond, and concentrated on spooning up a mouthful of the pudding that sat in front 
of him.

	Sam watched the exchange and shook his head.  Poor Frodo.  He had never seen 
his master so lovesick, in all his years of knowing him.  Of course, his own feelings on 
the matter were still confused.  The gardener still didn’t know how to deal with the odd 
twinges of jealousy he felt towards Elrond.  He imagined his head would clear up, once 
they were back home in the Shire and he could continue his courtship of Rose Cotton.  
Sam paused with his spoonful of pudding halfway to his lips.  What if Frodo didn’t return 
with them?  What if he chose to stay in Rivendell with Elrond?  Or worse, what if they 
COULDN’T find someone to take responsibility for the ring, and the fate of the cursed 
thing ended up resting on his master’s slender shoulders?

~*************~

	They survived the dinner, more or less.  Elrond was caught up in the dining hall 
afterwards, conversing with the visiting representatives.  Frodo understood, of course.  
The elf king was a gracious host, and it simply wouldn’t do for him to up and leave too 
quickly.  “Want to come to our room and have a game of cards?” Pippin invited Frodo 
and Sam.

	“Anything to take my mind off all this carrying on,” muttered Samwise.

	“Ah, no thank you, Pippin.  I think I should get plenty of rest, for tomorrow,” 
Frodo said politely.  He exaggerated a yawn.

	Pippin shrugged and put his arm around Merry.  “Your loss, cousin.  We’re going 
to make it a drinking game.”

	Samwise frowned at the outrageous Took.  “A drinking game?”

	Merry chuckled.  “Yes...Pip’s idea, actually.  We traded our pipes for a few liters 
of dwarven ale.  Seems one of Gimli’s folk is a collector of cultural things from different 
races.”

	Frodo smiled as Sam groaned softly and grimaced.  “You two will be the death of 
me yet,” complained the gardener, “mark my words!”

	They dragged him off, and Frodo shook his head and grinned.  Bless those two, 
no matter how troubled times got, no matter how badly the odds were against them, they 
never ceased their celebration of life.  Frodo envied his cousins for their bright, optimistic 
view on the world.  Why, they would probably laugh in the face of the dark lord himself, 
given half the chance!  Still chuckling softly, Frodo went to his own room.

	He leaned his back against the door as he shut it, and he closed his eyes and 
sighed.  A soft whispering was lurking about the edge of his consciousness, just beneath 
his hearing.  Frodo’s hand strayed to the vest pocket of his shirt, just over his heart.  No, 
not tonight.  He would not have this special evening ruined by the ring.  He unbuttoned 
his shirt and removed it, then folded it up tightly and stuffed it into his new bag.  A soft 
groan escaped his lips as his movements caused his shoulder to throb, and he considered 
boiling up some hot water to soak the wound.  He didn’t want his shoulder to be stiff and 
sore when Elrond came.  Yes, that was a good idea, he decided.  A warm soak would 
relax the muscle and soothe the ache.

~***************~

	Elrond was finally able to get away from the congregation, as his guests became 
muzzy-headed with food and drink.  He swiftly padded down the hallway and knocked 
softly on Frodo’s bedroom door.  There was no answer.  Elrond frowned and turned the 
handle, then pushed the door open a crack and said, “Frodo, may I come in?”

	When he still received no answer, the elf became slightly worried, and he let 
himself into the room.  A smile relaxed his features when he saw that Frodo was lying 
atop the covers of his bed, fast asleep.  The hobbit was naked from the waist up, and there 
was a folded cloth resting on his left shoulder.  Elrond closed the door and silently 
approached the large bed, marveling at how small Frodo looked in it.  He gently lifted the 
damp cloth, which was now cool, and examined the scarred tissue beneath.  It still looked 
more angry than a wound of it’s age should have, but he was relieved to find no swelling, 
and it didn’t feel cold to the touch anymore.  Frodo moaned in his sleep as Elrond ran his 
sensitive fingers over the scar, and the elven king’s dark eyes flicked to the hobbit’s face 
and filled with pity.

	“If I could take this from you and bear it myself, I would,” the elf whispered.  He 
lightly stroked Frodo’s soft curls away from his forehead and placed a gentle kiss on his 
brow.  “I shall return swiftly, el hen,” he said, and then he straightened up and left the 
room again.  He went to his own bedroom and searched his cabinet for the proper herbal 
jar and ointment to ease Frodo’s suffering.  He paused as he was about to close the 
cabinet, and his eyes rested on a glass bottle of lavender oil.  Elrond had the good grace 
to blush at the thoughts that went through his head as he considered taking that bottle 
back with him as well.  It would not be used for medical purposes, but for lovemaking.  
That he was thinking in such terms when Frodo was obviously in pain made him feel 
shame, but considering how little control the two of them seemed to have around each 
other, he decided to take the lavender oil as well...just in case.  After all, the original 
purpose of his coming to Frodo’s bedroom was so that they could lie together as lovers.  
Always the prudent one, Elrond forced his guilty feelings to subside and placed the bottle 
in his robe pocket.  If Frodo still wanted him, at least he would be sufficiently prepared.

	Frodo was still asleep when Elrond returned to the bedroom.  The elf took his 
robe off and draped it over a chair nearby, and then he sat himself on the bed and opened 
the jar of ointment he had brought.  Frodo frowned and stirred when the elf began to 
carefully smooth the ointment over his scar.  His sapphire eyes opened and blinked up at 
Elrond groggily.  “You came,” Frodo whispered with a smile.

	Elrond returned the smile and briefly stroked the hobbit’s cheek with his free 
fingers.  “Aye, little love.  No, do not try to rise yet,” he gently pressed his hand against 
Frodo’s good shoulder as the hobbit started to sit up, “allow me to finish applying this 
ointment, first.  It will ease the ache in your shoulder.  I’ve also brought some Athelas 
leaves, if you wish for me to brew a tea for you.”

	Frodo flinched as Elrond’s gentle hand touched a particularly sore spot on his 
shoulder, then relaxed as the long fingers massaged the area and lessened the pain.  
“Thank you, Elrond.  You really do spoil me, you know.”

	Elrond chuckled.  “Not at all, el hen.  Would you like for me to make the tea for 
you?”

	Frodo thought on this.  When he was first recovering from his wound, they 
insisted that he drink Athelas tea several times a day.  The brew did indeed ease the pain, 
but it also dulled his senses and made him feel detached and groggy.  He wanted to be 
fully awake tonight.  “No, I do not think that is needed.  I’m feeling much better already, 
and I don’t want to fall asleep,” he finally answered.  His small hand reached out and 
rested on Elrond’s thigh suggestively.  “Is this silk?” he questioned, running his hand up 
and down the material of the elf’s nightclothes in a teasing caress.

	Elrond swallowed-the only sign of how Frodo’s touch was affecting him besides 
the growing bulge between his thighs.  “Yes, it is.  I could have a similar set of 
nightclothes made for you, if you wish.  It feels wonderful against the skin.”

	Those big, bright eyes never left Elrond’s as the hobbit’s hand slid up the elf’s 
thigh and boldly settled on the bulge in his lap.  Frodo stroked the hardness there gently 
and whispered, “I think I should rather feel you against my skin, lord Elrond.”  As far as 
Frodo was concerned, there was no need to hide what they both intended and wanted 
behind words of idle chit-chat.

	Elrond’s eyebrows lifted and his lips parted in amazement (an expression that few 
creatures of any age had ever seen on the dignified elf’s handsome face).  Never in his 
long life had anyone kept him so off-guard as Frodo Baggins did!  “Are you certain that 
you want this, Frodo?” he questioned huskily, “I’m rather dubious as to whether I can 
control my desire for you, and I feel it’s only fair to warn you that things will progress 
much further than they have before, should this continue.”  He couldn’t stop the sigh of 
pleasure that broke past his lips as Frodo’s wise little hand continued to squeeze and 
stroke him.

	Frodo’s breath quickened at Elrond’s words, and he nodded and sat up.  “I want to 
love you, Elrond.  Our lives might be changed forever, once the council has met 
tomorrow.  Please, let’s take what we can tonight.”  He scooted closer to the elf lord, 
careful to continue his massage as he began to place soft kisses up and down Elrond’s 
neck and cheek.

	“Ai Frodo,” sighed Elrond, turning his head to face the hobbit, “you are a much 
wiser soul than I.”  With that, he cupped Frodo’s chin and pressed his mouth against his.  
At first, the pressure of his lips was tender and reverent.  Then his passion began to take 
hold, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding between Frodo’s lips to seek out the 
warm softness beyond.  He gently but firmly pulled the hobbit’s stroking hand away from 
his groin, for it was exciting him too much, and Elrond wanted this night to last for a 
long, long time.

	Frodo didn’t argue with him as Elrond coaxed him to lie down.  The elf nimbly 
unbuttoned Frodo’s trousers and pulled them off, then gazed down at the hobbit’s nudity 
with heated eyes.  Though small in stature, Frodo’s body was as lithe and graceful as an 
elf’s.  The only thing that took away from the illusion other than size was his large, 
lightly furred feet and the way his silky hair curled into dark ringlets.  Elrond truly loved 
those tight curls and the way they wrapped around his fingers as though caressing them.  
It was a shame that more of the races weren’t blessed with such hair.  He had seen some 
humans with curly hair, but it tended to stick out in all directions and frizz unbecomingly.  
As for the elves, some were blessed with heavy waves or loose ringlets, but nothing so 
smooth and silky as Frodo’s was.

	A soft chuckle from the hobbit gave Elrond pause, and he lifted an eyebrow.  
“What is so amusing, Master Baggins?”

	Frodo was grinning up at him, his fair cheeks flushed with a combination of 
passion and bashfulness.  “You found a ticklish spot behind my ear.  I did not want to 
disturb you, but you kept touching it as you ran your fingers through my hair,” he said.  
His tone was surprisingly shy, and his long lashes fluttered as he lowered his gaze.

	Elrond shook his head and laughed musically.  “You really are an amazing 
creature, Frodo Baggins.  I count myself lucky.”  He took pity on his small lover and 
moved his hands to caress other parts of him.  Frodo sighed and arched into Elrond’s 
touch like a cat enjoying a good scratch as the elf ran his hands down his smooth chest 
and stomach.  

	Frodo lifted his gaze and whispered, “Am I to be the only one unclothed tonight?” 
and his eyes swept Elrond’s nightclothes meaningfully.

	“Patience, Frodo.  I shall disrobe in time.  For now, just allow me to touch you.”  
Silently, Elrond added, * I want to memorize every inch of you.*

	Frodo stared up at him and parted his lips as Elrond’s warm, long hands caressed 
his body.  The hobbit could almost swear that there was some sort of energy emitting 
from the elf’s hands as they touched him.  His skin tingled as they swept over him...it was 
almost tickling, but it felt wonderful at the same time.  He gasped as the elf’s stroking 
slid lower, over his hips and thighs.  Elrond meticulously explored Frodo’s 
body...unhurried and gentle in his caresses.  He bent over and gave Frodo a soft kiss, and 
then he straightened back up and continued to stroke his hands down the hobbit’s legs.  
He even rubbed his feet, which at first made Frodo feel uncomfortable.  He thought that 
surely Elrond wouldn’t find the large feet attractive.  Compared to the delicate, small feet 
of the elves, Frodo felt that his were monstrous and ugly.

	Elrond apparently did not think so, for he lifted them and nuzzled his cheek 
against them lovingly.  Frodo stared at the elf in amazement, and was quite thankful that 
he was a tidy hobbit who washed his feet often.  How willing to do that would Elrond had 
been if Frodo hadn’t bathed them before getting into bed?  He almost snorted with 
laughter at the thought, but Elrond’s hands were moving back up his calves and to his 
thighs, and the tingling sensation grew.  “Mmm...what are you doing to me?” he 
murmured in pleasure, closing his lapis eyes.

	Elrond said nothing, merely smiled down at his young lover as he continued his 
exploration of him.  He could tell by the way Frodo’s head slowly rolled back and forth 
and by the way his breath was quickening that he was effecting him as he wished to. He 
had never tried to use his abilities in this way before.  It had always seemed to be such a 
frivolous waste, when there was no wound to heal.  As he stared down at the hobbit and 
listened to his breathy sighs, Elrond deduced that using his gift to stimulate the flesh 
rather than heal it wasn’t such a waste, after all.  He marveled at the beatific expressions 
that Frodo’s fair features underwent, and the elf lord bit his lip on a groan as the hobbit 
licked his lips unconsciously and whispered his name.

	“So fair,” Elrond whispered, unable to resist touching Frodo’s stiff rod of arousal 
any longer.  He gently curled his fingers around the peach member and began to stimulate 
it...both in the traditional way and with his healing gift.  

	Frodo gave a shaken gasp and bucked into the touch, his small hands splaying 
open on the bed for a moment.  “Elrond,” the hobbit moaned, eyes opening wide.  His 
hands clutched fistfuls of sheet and his back arched.  There was more to Elrond’s stroking 
than an experienced touch...he was certain of it, now.  The pleasure of the elf’s stroking 
hand was twice as strong as it should have been.

	Elrond almost stopped, fearing that it was too much for Frodo.  Then the hobbit 
took a shuddering breath and sighed, “That feels...incredible.”  He stopped speaking and 
closed his eyes, his brows furrowing as the sensations washed over him.  

	Elrond fought to control his own arousal as he bent over Frodo and kissed him.  
The feel of his silken organ in the elf’s hand, pulsing with need, was driving him over the 
brink.  Frodo’s soft cries blended in with Elrond’s quickening breath as the elf lord 
teasingly caressed the hobbit’s lips with his tongue.  Frodo parted his lips and returned 
the caress with his own tongue, tangling his fingers into Elrond’s black, shiny hair.  
“Please,” Frodo groaned, bucking his hips as the waves of pleasure increased.

	Elrond stopped massaging Frodo’s hard shaft, and the hobbit’s eyes snapped open 
and looked up at the elf in disappointment.  Elrond smiled at him and kissed his soft lips, 
which were pulling down into a pout.  “I do not want it to end quickly for either of us, 
dear Frodo,” he explained.  Then he stood up and began to disrobe.

	Frodo forgot his disappointment that Elrond had stopped touching him, and he 
gazed up at the elf with sultry, half-lidded blue eyes as he removed his clothing.  The 
hobbit drank in the site of Elrond’s body, committing each curve, angle and line to his 
memory and his heart.  The beauty of the graceful elven king was something that Frodo 
felt he would never forget, no matter what the future brought.  He would cherish this 
night for the rest of his life.  When Elrond stood naked before him, Frodo opened his 
arms eagerly.  “Join with me, Elrond,” he whispered huskily, “our spirits have twined 
together, and now I wish for our flesh to do the same.”

	Looking down at the ethereal, delicate hobbit, Elrond could not agree more.  He 
stretched out beside Frodo on the bed, taking him into his arms.  Their mouths sought 
each other’s out almost desperately now, for both of them feared that this might be the 
only opportunity to express the love they felt for each other.  There was the feeling of an 
approaching storm all around them...one that might sweep them apart forever.

~*****************~

-To be continued

“Hidden Strength”
Part 9

	Frodo trembled with sensation as Elrond’s hands kneaded and 
caressed his small body.  He placed tiny kisses all over the elflord’s chest 
and shoulders, frantically touching his silken flesh as he did so.  He loved 
the way Elrond’s lean muscles bunched and relaxed beneath his fingers as 
he explored.  He wanted to touch his lover’s erection, to feel the marble-
silky texture of it again, but Elrond stayed his hand and again warned that 
it would end things too quickly.  The hobbit sighed as Elrond’s mouth 
tenderly kissed and licked his stomach and chest.  Sweat broke out all over 
Frodo’s body and he moved restlessly beneath Elrond.  He slid his fingers 
into the elf’s ebony locks and urged him to bring his mouth back up.

	Elrond complied, kissing Frodo’s petal-soft lips arduously.  “One 
mom