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 
moment, Frodo,” he said breathlessly, and he rose again.  A smile tugged 
at his lips as Frodo groaned in frustration, but he continued across the 
room to where his robe was.  Frodo watched curiously as the elf produced 
a small bottle of oil from the confines of his robe pocket.  He couldn’t help 
but blush as Elrond turned back to him with a heated gaze and returned to 
the bed.  “If you are truly willing to go through with this, the lavender oil 
will make things much easier,” Elrond murmured as he slid into bed 
beside Frodo again.

	Frodo’s wide eyes traveled down Elrond’s body and rested on his 
long, thick penis.  Was it possible for them to be together that way?  The 
question in his heart must have shown on his face, for Elrond set the oil 
down between them and stroked his jaw gently.  “There is a way that I 
could prepare your body to accommodate me, Frodo.  I have never tried it 
before, so I cannot be certain that it will work.  However, if you are 
willing to try, I will do all that I can to ensure your comfort, el hen.”

	Frodo swallowed hard and looked deeply into Elrond’s eyes.  “I 
trust you,” he said simply.  Elrond would never hurt him, and if his skill 
with healing was any indication, Frodo believed that the elven king could 
indeed make it possible for them to couple.  

	Elrond smiled down at him and picked up the bottle.  Frodo 
watched as the elf uncorked it and poured a small amount into his long 
palm.  The hobbit had never been this nervous with a lover before...not 
even when it was his first time!  He supposed it was because Elrond was 
so much bigger than he was.  Or maybe it was because for the first time in 
his life, Frodo knew beyond a doubt that he was in love.  Surely, having 
deep feelings for the person who you are going to be making love with 
would account for all of the nervous butterflies in the stomach!  

	Elrond watched Frodo’s face as he coaxed the hobbit to part his 
thighs and began to smooth the oil over his tight entrance.  Those vivid 
blue eyes fluttered closed in pleasure at the sensation, and those rosebud 
lips parted in a sigh.  The elf’s heart thudded painfully, and he almost 
stopped what he was doing in amazement at how beautiful his little love 
was.  He managed to get a hold of his emotions, and he gently pushed a 
finger into the slick, narrow heat of Frodo’s body.  The hobbit gasped and 
arched his back as Elrond found his secret spot, deep inside, and began to 
stroke it.  The elf covered Frodo’s mouth with his to muffle the loud cries 
that the hobbit began to emit.  Frodo shook like a leaf in the breeze and 
clutched at Elrond’s shoulders desperately as the elf’s long finger stroked 
deeply inside of him. 

	“Is it too much for you, el hen?”  Whispered Elrond against 
Frodo’s quivering mouth.  The hobbit shook his head negatively, unable to 
find words to explain that he was feeling nothing but pleasure from the 
intrusion.  Elrond continued, and he concentrated on carefully 
manipulating the tight muscles of Frodo’s canal.  He slipped another 
finger into him and used his powers to dilate the entrance.

	Frodo’s eyes opened wide and he whimpered.  “Oh...that feels...” 
he couldn’t describe the sensation as his canal slowly opened to Elrond’s 
gentle ministrations.  

	“Is it hurting you, little love?” Elrond asked in concern.

	Frodo again shook his head, struggling for breath.  A ragged cry 
burst from his lips as Elrond pressed against that spot within him again.  
Elrond kissed Frodo hard as the hobbit climaxed.  He worried that the 
hobbit’s vocal expressions of pleasure might bring Samwise crashing into 
the room at any moment to see if he was being hurt. For a long time, 
Frodo’s penis bucked against Elrond’s belly, slickening both their bodies 
with his seed.  The hobbit moaned against Elrond’s mouth and held him 
tightly as the orgasm played itself out.

	“There now, Frodo,” purred Elrond as the hobbit trembled against 
him, “I’ve got you...just let it out.”  His satisfaction in bringing Frodo to 
such intense release nearly made Elrond lose what little control he had 
left.  He kissed the hobbit’s sweating brow and continued to gently thrust 
his fingers within him, steadily widening his passageway.  

	“Elrond...oh, Elrond,” Frodo gasped, kissing the elflord feverishly, 
“I want you inside of me...please, do not make me wait!”

	Elrond nuzzled Frodo’s neck and said, “Patience, el hen.  I cannot 
rush this.  Just a bit longer, and we shall be together.”  He smiled at 
Frodo’s frustrated groan and kissed him soundly.  Patience, indeed!  He 
was fairly on the verge of explosion, himself!  He slid a third finger in 
with the rest, and was satisfied that it didn’t seem to cause his lover any 
pain.  Frodo bucked his hips mindlessly and tossed his head, groaning in 
need.  His spent organ began to harden again.

	“It’s time, my love,” gasped Elrond.  He could barely control his 
own urges, and reminded himself that he would have to move slowly at 
first, until he was certain that Frodo was safely adjusted to his size.  The 
best way to be certain of this would be to make love in a sitting position, 
with Frodo facing him on his lap.  Elrond removed his fingers from within 
the hobbit and quickly poured more of the lavender oil onto his hand, then 
coated his own throbbing organ with the substance.  

	Frodo cracked his blue eyes open and sat up, feeling wonderful and 
strange after Elrond’s gentle manipulation of his body.  He felt stretched, 
but it didn’t hurt at all.  There was a pleasant tingling sensation in his 
nether parts from the elf’s touch.  Elrond scooted to the edge of the bed 
and let his legs dangle over the side, then motioned for Frodo to come to 
him.  The hobbit eagerly obeyed, and Elrond lifted him into his lap.  
“Wrap your legs around my waist, sweet one,” Elrond commanded softly.

	Frodo guessed what Elrond had in mind, and a thrill shot through 
him.  He had never tried a position like this before, and the intimacy that it 
promised made his heart leap.  He did as he was told, wriggling 
impatiently as he felt Elrond’s long length pressing against his stretched 
entrance.  Elrond slid his hand beneath Frodo’s rounded bottom and lifted 
him so that he could position his shaft at the hobbit’s opening.  He relaxed 
his hold and cupped Frodo’s hips, then slowly thrust upward.

	Frodo gave a loud cry and hugged Elrond around the neck as the 
elf’s thickness slid into his small body.  He groaned his lover’s name and 
lowered himself onto the hardness, not caring if the entire house heard his 
cries of pleasure.  Elrond whispered Frodo’s name shakenly and began to 
move within him.  His mouth covered the hobbit’s as Frodo continued to 
cry out loudly.  He could tell by the tone of Frodo’s cries that he was not 
in pain...quite the opposite, in fact.  Elrond kept one hand supporting 
Frodo’s bottom, while he reached between their bodies with the other hand 
and gripped the hobbit’s erection.

	“Ai, ‘tis just right, el hen,” Elrond panted, rubbing the length of 
Frodo’s stiff arousal as he rhythmically pumped his penis in and out of his 
heat.  The elven king could feel nothing except Frodo...nothing else 
existed for him.  He tasted salt as he kissed the hobbit, and he realized 
with a shock that it was from Frodo’s tears.  “Frodo?” he said breathlessly, 
ceasing his movements for a moment out of fear that he was hurting the 
hobbit.

	“Don’t stop,” Frodo whimpered, cupping Elrond’s face and gazing 
into his dark eyes, “I only weep from happiness.”  Then he kissed the elf 
deeply and undulated his hips, making him gasp.  Elrond understood how 
his lover felt.  When he entered Frodo’s body and heard his breathless cry 
of pleasure, the elflord had almost felt like weeping for joy, himself.  
Never had he felt such a strong connection to another being before.

	Elrond closed his eyes and breathed in the damp, earthy scent of 
his lover as he stroked his erection and increased the force of his thrusts.  
He began to murmur incoherent elvish endearments as he took Frodo.  
Both their bodies sparkled with a fine sheen of perspiration as they kissed 
and rocked against each other.  Their intertwined shadows flickered 
against the wall of the lamplit room with their movements, and Frodo’s 
loud cries mingled with Elrond’s soft, breathy ones.  Frodo’s thighs 
tightened around Elrond’s waist and the hobbit shook all over as he 
climaxed in his lover’s hand.  His shout of release was muffled by the elf’s 
mouth, and he whimpered and hugged Elrond tightly.  Unable to hold off 
any longer, Elrond gave one last smooth, deep thrust and wrapped his 
arms around Frodo as his peak came.  Frodo sighed in satisfaction as his 
lover’s seed filled him.

	As they recovered from their pleasure, elf and hobbit held onto one 
another, neither saying a word.  Frodo rested his cheek against Elrond’s 
chest, and the elf kissed his damp, curly head and stroked his back, sighing 
in contentment.  “I wish that we could stay like this forever,” Frodo 
sighed, snuggling against Elrond.  The elf’s softening member was still 
inside of him, and Frodo enjoyed the feel of it.

	“As do I, beautiful one,” agreed Elrond.  How long they stayed in 
that position, neither of them could tell, but eventually, Frodo began to 
doze, and Elrond gently lifted him and lay him down on his stomach.  

	“What are you doing?”  Murmured Frodo in confusion as Elrond’s 
hands separated his buttocks.

	“I am examining you for blood, el hen.  I want to be certain that I 
did not harm you.”

	Frodo smiled and arched into Elrond’s touch as the elf’s fingers 
gently probed the outer edges of his entrance.  “Stop being naughty, little 
one,” huffed Elrond, though he was smiling.  There was no indication 
whatsoever that their lovemaking had caused any harm to Frodo, and the 
hobbit’s sphincter was already tightening up to it’s natural state.  Relaxing 
in relief, Elrond kissed Frodo’s shoulder and combed his fingers through 
the hobbit’s springy curls.  “I love you, Frodo.”

	Frodo turned his head and looked up at Elrond.  “I love you too.  
Make love to me again...just like this.”

	Elrond’s jaw dropped at the unexpected demand.  Not that it 
wasn’t too tempting to resist.  Frodo’s smooth, round little bottom 
beckoned him to squeeze it, and the thought of having the hobbit again 
made Elrond groan softly.  “You aren’t too sore from the last time?” he 
questioned, and then he blushed at the raw tone of desire in his own voice.  

	“I feel wonderful Elrond.  However, I can feel my body going back 
to normal.  Please, make love to me again!  Before it wears off and we 
must begin where we started.”

	Elrond needed no further urging.  He quickly took up the bottle of 
lavender oil and coated his hardening penis with it, just to be sure there 
would be sufficient lubrication.  He smirked ruefully at the half empty 
bottle as he placed it on the nightstand.  It seemed he would need to make 
more soon.  Frodo rose up on his hands and knees and pressed himself 
back, pushing his buttocks against Elrond’s stomach as the elf knelt 
behind him.  “You are far too tempting a treasure to resist, el hen,” gasped 
the elflord, and he positioned himself and entered Frodo’s waiting heat in 
one smooth thrust.

	Frodo groaned, for he was a bit tighter this time, and it was slightly 
painful.  Elrond went still and held himself within the hobbit, leaning over 
his bowed back to brush his hair aside and plant silken kisses on his neck.  
“I am sorry, Frodo.  I shall be still until you have adjusted.”

	Frodo nodded and closed his eyes, his hands curling into fists as he 
waited for the sting to subside.  When it did, he moved forward a bit, then 
pressed back against his lover encouragingly.  Elrond gripped the hobbit’s 
hips and began to move.  “Harder,” gasped Frodo demandingly, arching 
his back.

	Cautiously, Elrond obeyed.  He wished to put more force into their 
lovemaking himself, but he refused to harm Frodo to do it.  When the 
hobbit shuddered in pleasure and urged him to greater speed, Elrond lost 
himself.  The bed bumped against the wall with the force of their 
movements, and Elrond was forced to cover Frodo’s mouth with his hand, 
for the hobbit’s cries were indeed becoming alarmingly sharp and loud.  
The last thing they needed was for not only Samwise, but all of Frodo’s 
friends (including his cousin Bilbo) to come barging in to his rescue and 
find the two of them like this.  If he wasn’t feeling so good from making 
love to Frodo, Elrond might have chuckled at the image.  As it was, the 
only thing he could concentrate on was the feel of his lover’s canal 
gripping him firmly, and the sound of Frodo’s muffled groans.

	Elrond decided to take it one step further, and he began to stroke 
Frodo’s throbbing penis and use his healing powers again.  Frodo’s eyes 
opened wide in shock and he cried out sharply against Elrond’s hand.  The 
combination of the elflord’s touch and his hardness pumping in and out of 
him was more pleasure than Frodo could bear.  He tried to tell Elrond to 
stop, that he would surely die from the sensation, but the elf’s hand 
muffled his cry, and Elrond was too caught up in their lovemaking to 
realize Frodo was trying to say something.  The hobbit rose up, so that he 
was on his knees leaning back against the elf, and Elrond pulled him tight 
against him and kissed his shoulder as he gave a sharp thrust of his cock.  
Frodo’s sapphire eyes rolled and his penis bucked violently in Elrond’s 
hand.  His entire body went rigid, and without meaning to, he bit Elrond’s 
hand.

	The elf stoically accepted the pain, finding himself surprisingly 
aroused by the indication of how intense his lover’s orgasm was.  He 
kissed Frodo’s pointed ear and murmured soothingly to him, pushing 
himself deep inside of the hobbit as the climax played itself out.  Frodo 
went limp with exhaustion in Elrond’s arms when it was finally finished, 
and his hair was positively wet with perspiration.  He panted heavily as 
Elrond resumed his thrusting, and he leaned back and allowed his lover to 
support him.  “Im car-u iest sen an meth, (1)” Elrond gasped, bowing his 
head as he struggled to fight his impending climax.

	Frodo reached up and combed his fingers into Elrond’s damp hair, 
turning his head for a kiss.  When the hobbit’s soft lips pressed against his 
own, the elflord could no longer hold back.  He cried Frodo’s name and 
wrapped his arms around the hobbit’s torso as he orgasmed.  Frodo smiled 
and caressed Elrond’s thighs, which he sat between.  So much for him 
being difficult to satisfy.  Elrond had given him more satisfaction than he 
could handle.  Frodo’s heavy lidded eyes gazed at the curtains of the 
window, watching as the night breeze made them billow softly.  

	The hobbit went still and color flooded his cheeks, for the curtains 
blew open just long enough for him to make out what he could swear was 
the tops of two curly heads.  Merry and Pippin?  Sam and Merry?  Pippin 
and Sam?  He narrowed his eyes to try and see the color of the hair, but 
when the curtain billowed aside again, it was gone.  It must have been a 
trick of the moonlight...possibly the bushes outside the bedroom window 
simply looked like a pair of hobbit heads.  

	“What is the matter, el hen?” murmured Elrond softly, his lips 
seeking the damp skin of Frodo’s neck.

	Frodo shook his head.  “Nothing, my lord.  My eyes were playing 
tricks on me.”

	Elrond sighed in contentment and slipped out of Frodo, then turned 
him around and lay him down.  He bowed over the hobbit and placed a 
tender kiss on his lips.  “I shall return swiftly to bath you, Frodo,” he 
whispered, glancing down at the slick fluid coating Frodo’s hips and 
stomach.  The hobbit blushed profusely, and Elrond chuckled and rubbed 
the tip of his nose against his.  “There is no need to be embarrassed now, 
little one,” he said in amusement.

	Frodo smiled bashfully up at him.  “Of course.  I don’t quite 
understand my odd embarrassment factor myself.  It is rather silly of me to 
be shy now, of all times.”

	They shared a soft laugh, and Elrond went into the privy to 
dampen a cloth.  When he returned, he lovingly bathed the evidence of 
their lovemaking from Frodo’s pale skin, kissing the areas softly as he 
finished.  Then he set the cloth aside and pulled Frodo into his arms, 
stroking the hobbit’s soft curls until he fell asleep.

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

	Outside the window, Sam and Pippin sat scrunched up together, 
neither daring to breathe until they were positive that Frodo hadn’t 
decided to come and investigate.  As usual, Samwise hadn’t meant to spy 
on his master, but he couldn’t ignore the loud, hoarse cries that came from 
Frodo’s room.  He could tell they were being muffled as well.  Because he 
had an idea of what was probably going on in there, he fought with 
himself not to go and investigate.  It was Pippin’s idea to peek into the 
bedroom window.  Merry had passed out, having lost several hands to his 
cousin and therefore being forced to drink more than Pippin and Sam.  
When the cries had begun, Pippin saw how worried Sam’s face was, and 
he began to worry himself.  It didn’t take much convincing to get the 
gardener to go with him to see if Frodo was all right.

	Sam stared straight ahead, his expression caught between 
embarrassment, dismay, and something else that Pippin couldn’t quite put 
his finger on.  If it were Merry and not Samwise, he would have sworn it 
was desire.  Because this was Sam, he couldn’t imagine that being the 
case.  Pippin was having a difficult time cooling down after witnessing 
most of Frodo and Elrond’s lovemaking, and the Took had every intention 
of waking Merry up when he returned to their room, even if he had to 
splash a bucket of water on the passed-out Brandybuck.  He honestly 
didn’t know who was prettier; Elrond or Frodo.  “Should have woken 
Merry up and made him come with,” he decided aloud.  At least then his 
lover would be just as hot and bothered as he was.  Poor Merry...he was in 
for it, when Pip got back.

	“W-we should go now,” whispered Sam.

	“Yes...you’re quite right,” replied Pippin.  In a daze, Peregrin 
quietly crawled away from the window.  He noticed that Sam hesitated, 
and when he looked back, the gardener was peeking into the window 
again, watching Frodo cuddle up to Elrond and go to sleep.  Pippin’s 
eyebrows shot into his hair at the longing expression that came over Sam’s 
face.  So, he was definitely in love with one of them-or at least in lust.  At 
first, Pippin thought it might be Elrond.  Sam had always loved elves, after 
all.  Then he saw the gardener mouth Frodo’s name and sigh heavily.  
“Not good,” Pippin thought grimly.

	“Come on, Sam...before we get caught,” Pippin whispered harshly, 
pulling on his friend’s arm.  Samwise reluctantly allowed himself to be led 
away.

	“Don’t tell him we saw that, Pip,” the gardener begged, “I couldn’t 
bear it if mister Frodo knew I was spying on him again!”

	Pippin paused, his eyes glittering in the moonlight.  “Again?  How 
many times have you spied on him before?”

	Sam bowed his head and wouldn’t answer.  His face was flushed 
with shame.  Pippin shook his head and gave the gardener a sympathetic 
pat on the back.  “It’s all right, Sam.  I won’t say anything.”  He couldn’t 
really blame Samwise.  If he were going on looks alone, he would have 
gone after Frodo long ago, himself.  The gentlehobbit was one of the most 
beautiful, ethereal people Pippin had ever seen, but he wasn’t Pip’s type.  
It was Merry who drew the young Took to him like a moth to a flame. 
Given his feelings for the Brandybuck, Pippin could understand Sam’s 
dilemma completely.

~***************~
 
-To be continued

(1.) I do not wish this to end.

Title: Hidden Strength (10/?)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A bit of fluff and hurt/comfort in this chapter.  Elrond works 
another sort of healing on an emotionally ailing Frodo, the morning after 
their first time.
Disclaimer: Tolkien's character and world, my story.  I make no money 
from this.
Warning: Mushy.


“Hidden Strength”
Part 10

	Frodo awoke to find Elrond lying quietly beside him, staring at 
him.  The hobbit blushed, having no idea how to react to such close 
observation.  He was used to his lovers sleeping beside him, not watching 
him.  “Good morning,” he said with an exaggerated yawn to cover his 
shyness.

	Elrond smiled and stroked his back with deft fingertips.  “Did you 
sleep well?”  He questioned softly.

	It took a moment for Frodo to answer, for the elf’s fingertips felt 
positively heavenly as they glided along his skin, and Elrond’s dark eyes 
were soft and tender on him.  “Yes, it was wonderful.  I haven’t slept so 
well since...since...ah, bother.  I cannot remember the last time I slept so 
well!”  He snuggled against Elrond, enjoying the contact of skin on skin.  
“What of you?  I know that elves don’t exactly sleep, persay, but did you 
rest at all?” 

	Elrond hugged Frodo to him and nuzzled his hair.  “I rested quite 
peacefully, el hen.  I quite enjoyed watching you sleep.  All lines of worry 
and pain ease from your gentle features, and you make me think of poetry 
and all that is pure.”

	Frodo swallowed a laugh, and was surprised to find that as soon as 
he did, it became a soft whimper.  Tears welled up in his eyes and he 
blinked rapidly.  “Ah, forgive me,” he said in a small voice, for Elrond felt 
the moisture against his chest and pulled back to look at Frodo in concern, 
“I don’t know what’s come over me.  I...I feel such strong emotions 
around you, Elrond.  Joy so great that it hurts, and sorrow so deep that 
there’s nothing to do for it but to laugh.  I do not know why this is, except 
that I fear we’ll be parted, soon.”

	Elrond smoothed the moisture over Frodo’s pale cheeks with his 
thumbs and kissed him softly.  “I understand, Frodo.  It is difficult for me 
as well, knowing that in a few short hours, our lives could be changed 
forever.  You feel it as well, do you not?”

	Frodo’s sapphire gaze was both frightened and confused as it met 
Elrond’s.  “Yes.  Though I do not know what it is that I feel.  It’s as 
though there is a heavy weight waiting to be placed on my shoulders.  I 
won’t say what I fear could happen, for to do so might make it all the 
more probable.”

	Elrond nodded slowly and rested his hand on the curve of Frodo’s 
hip.  “I agree.  Let us not trouble ourselves until we know for certain.  I 
would use the time we have left until the Council to enjoy one another’s 
presence.”

	Frodo grinned, his cheeks dimpling slightly with the expression.  “I 
think I know just how I would like to enjoy one another’s presence, my 
lord,” he said in a husky whisper.  His small hand slid down from Elrond’s 
chest to his abdomen and lower.  The elven king sighed and closed his 
eyes as Frodo fondled his hardening groin.

	“It may not be wise to repeat the actions of last night, dear el hen,” 
whispered Elrond with the tiniest quiver of pleasure in his voice.  Despite 
his mild argument, his hips were flexing in time with Frodo’s talented 
strokes.

	Frodo nibbled the elf’s sensitive earlobe and said, “I’m fine with it, 
Elrond.  I promise you that I’m not as fragile as I look.”

	Elrond smiled again and dragged his lips along the hobbit’s cheek 
and to his mouth.  He hungrily nibbled and sucked on Frodo’s lips for a 
moment, then paused to murmur, “I should like to feel you inside of me as 
well, love.  How does a bit of turnabout sound to you?”

	Frodo’s eyebrows lifted and he pulled back to stare at Elrond.  His 
fair features were the very picture of surprise.  “Really?”  He said with 
some confusion.

	Taken aback by the disbelief coloring his lover’s voice, Elrond 
nodded.  “Of course, Frodo.  Have you never experienced it that way 
before?”

	Those blue eyes dropped and those high cheekbones pinkened, and 
Elrond had his answer.  “Well, no.  I’ve never even considered it before, 
actually.  I suppose I’ve always enjoyed being on the receiving end so 
much that it never occurred to me that I might like it the other way as 
well.”

	Elrond cupped his chin and made him raise his eyes.  “If you aren’t 
comfortable with it, we do not have to-“ he started, but Frodo suddenly 
kissed him hard and demandingly, cutting off anything else he might say.

	“I want to,” the hobbit said breathlessly against Elrond’s lips, “oh, 
to feel you like that...yes, I do want to!”

	Elrond understood.  Frodo was so pretty to look at that it was 
possible that many of the lads he had been with thought of him in the same 
way they thought of women.  How much easier was it for them to 
experiment with someone of the same gender if that person was even more 
lovely than most of the lasses in their village?  Mostly farmers, Elrond 
could clearly picture their desire to “claim” Frodo.  Of course Frodo 
would have little experience being the “dominant” partner...he was 
constantly underestimated, even by his dearest friends.  Samwise couldn’t 
be more protective over his beloved master if he was a pregnant woman!  
With that thought, Elrond chuckled helplessly.  

	“What’s so funny?”  Said Frodo indignantly, suddenly suspecting 
that Elrond had played a cruel joke on him.

	“Forgive me, dear Frodo,” Elrond said as he tried to control his 
laughter, “I was pondering how it was possible for someone as sensual as 
you to have never tried the dominant position before.  What you said about 
not being as fragile as you look brought some thoughts to my mind that 
tickled me.”

	“What thoughts?”  Frodo questioned relentlessly, his stroking hand 
slowing.  He tilted his head to the side and chewed his bottom lip as he 
gazed up at the elf lord.

	Of course, Frodo looked positively adorable and innocent when he 
did this, which made Elrond’s belly quiver with laughter all the more.  
“Elrond!  Tell me!”  Frodo harped, beginning to lose patience.  Despite his 
annoyance, Frodo began to smile in spite of himself.  There was nothing 
more infectious than the laughter of someone you loved...especially when 
that laughter sounded like bells.

	Elrond wiped the moisture from the corners of his eyes and said, 
“Very well, but try not to get angry with me.  I have noticed how 
protective others are of you, almost as though you are a child.  I was just 
thinking that your Samwise could not be more protective of you if you 
were a pregnant female.”  He bit HIS lip then, tensing up in anticipation of 
an angry outburst in defense of the gardener.

	Frodo’s lips parted and his eyes went blank for a moment, and then 
his small frame shook with peals of laughter.  “Oh, that is so cruel, but so 
true!”  He snickered.  “Poor, dear Sam.  I never really noticed it so much, 
until you said that!”

	They both laughed then, smothering the sound in the pillows in 
case any of the hobbits in the next room heard.  Elrond hadn’t laughed this 
often in the presence of another person in ages.  It felt wonderful to be so 
carefree.  Frodo finally sobered a bit and rolled onto his back.  He propped 
himself up on his elbows and turned his tousled head to look at Elrond 
seriously.  “Why do you suppose people are like that to me, Elrond?”

	Elrond rolled onto his side and rested his cheek in the palm of his 
hand as he propped himself up as well.  His other hand reached out and 
smoothed some errant, dark curls away from Frodo’s lovely eyes, and he 
frowned slightly.  “I think it is because you are so fair, and so dear.  Your 
voice is sweet and melodic, yet masculine.  To some, it is possibly 
difficult to balance the combination in their minds.”

	“But, not to you,” Frodo protested with a smile.

	“No...not to me.  As I have said before, el hen; you have qualities 
that my own people admire and strive for.  I understand you because we 
are kindred spirits, you and I.  Your cousins and Samwise, however...there 
is a different story.  Your thirst for knowledge of the outside world, your 
silence, and your build...all of these things set you apart from your 
fellows.  It makes you exotic to them, and they love you all the more for 
it.”

	Frodo’s bottom lip began to tremble ever so slightly and his eyes 
again misted with tears.  Elrond seemed to feel the pain of all those years 
that Frodo had searched for acceptance and never quite found it.  The 
elven king was putting words to what was in Frodo's heart, and he was 
seeing the reasons for other’s behavior towards the gentlehobbit more 
clearly than Frodo himself could have.

	“They do not mean to hurt you, Frodo,” Elrond said with all 
confidence, pulling the hobbit into his arms to soothe him, “they do it out 
of love for you.  Nothing evil ever comes of love.  Remember that.”

	All the years of hiding his pain from others came down on Frodo’s 
shoulders in that moment, and to his horror, he found himself sobbing like 
a child.  Nobody had ever seen him cry like this except for Sam, Bilbo, 
and Frodo’s dear, deceased parents.  Elrond held the hobbit and sang 
softly in elvish to him, kissing his hair now and then.  He hadn’t meant to 
break open old wounds, but Elrond was suddenly very glad that he did.  
There was more to healing than knitting a bone or mending a cut.  Frodo 
Baggins had older, deeper wounds that had obviously been festering.  All 
thoughts of lovemaking put aside, the elf crooned to Frodo as the hobbit 
cried against his chest.

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

	“Ah, I think I am finally finished,” sniffled Frodo as the last 
hitching sob left his lips, “I’m terribly sorry for that.  Your words, you 
see...they were right on the spot.  I have been covering it up because I 
know that they love me, but it does hurt me when they treat me like...like I 
am defenseless.”

	Elrond kissed the salty tears from Frodo’s cheeks and whispered, 
“’Tis alright, little love.  You’ve clearly been holding a lot inside of you, 
and it needed to be set loose.”

	Frodo sniffled again and again, and Elrond finally chuckled and 
told him to wait there.  The hobbit watched with watery blue eyes as 
Elrond got out of bed and went to the privy.  Even in his over-emotional 
state, Frodo couldn’t stop himself from admiring the lean perfection of the 
elf’s form.  Elrond returned with a handkerchief, which he handed to 
Frodo.  Looking at the exquisite embroidery on the material, Frodo 
protested, “Oh...no.  I couldn’t sully this with my...my-“

	“That is what it is there for, Frodo.  They are all washed in the end, 
so there is no harm in it, I assure you.”  Elrond said firmly, though his 
eyes twinkled with amusement.

	“Well, if you insist,” the hobbit said dubiously.

	Elrond smiled as Frodo wiped his eyes first, then covered his 
reddened little nose and blew it.  “Better?”  He inquired when the hobbit 
finished.

	Frodo nodded and smiled sheepishly.  “I should put this in the sink 
to soak...I shouldn’t like it if housekeeping came in and innocently picked 
this up without knowing what’s...er...in it.”

	His words made Elrond snort unbecomingly with laughter, and the 
elf shook his head in amazement.  “You are priceless, my dear hobbit,” he 
said with a smile as Frodo frowned with mock insult at him.  Elrond 
thought it would be best not to mention the other towels that housekeeping 
would be picking up...considering what sort of body fluids were on them.  
Poor Frodo was embarrassed enough as it was.

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

-To be continued 


Title: Hidden Strength (11/?)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing: Frodo/Elrond
Rating: PG
Summary: Frodo joins the great council and learns that sometimes, it's the 
smallest people who must carry the biggest burdens.
Disclaimer:  Tolkien owns Middle Earth and all its characters.  My 
fanfictions are non-profit and intended for entertainment only.


“Hidden Strength”
Part 11

	They didn’t have time for further lovemaking, for the hour was 
drawing near for the Council.  With heavy regret, Elrond and Frodo 
cleaned themselves up and dressed, and then they merely held one another 
on the bed and conversed softly.  Frodo wondered if he and Elrond should 
leave the room at separate times, so that if Samwise happened to be in the 
hallway, he wouldn't know that the elven king had stayed the night.  Deep 
down, Frodo sensed that his loyal friend was confused about his feelings 
towards him, and he wanted to protect Sam from getting hurt by the 
knowledge that he and Elrond had lain together.  He changed his mind 
with a shake of his head, just as he was about to suggest his idea.  No, 
Samwise Gamgee might be simple-hearted, but he was not simple-minded.  
He was the one who encouraged Frodo to take the first step towards 
Elrond, after all.  If Sam hadn’t encouraged him, Frodo wasn’t sure that he 
would have gathered the nerve to approach Elrond at the hot spring, and 
last evening might not have happened.  Sam already knew.  Trying to 
spare his feelings now was futile.

	“What are you thinking of, Frodo?” Elrond asked as he adjusted 
his cape.

	Frodo smirked.  “I am that transparent, am I?”

	“Nay, merely expressive.  It is easy for me to tell when something 
is troubling you.  Your eyes grow shadowed.”

	Frodo looked up at Elrond and searched for words.  “I do not want 
to hurt Sam.  I know he cares for me, possibly more than he typically lets 
on.  He’s been acting strange, lately.  The way he looks at me is...oh, how 
do I explain it.  I think that Samwise is struggling with himself over his 
feelings for me, and I do not want to rub what happened between you and 
I in his face.  Yet, I do not want to hide my feelings for you, either.”  He 
frowned pensively and lowered his gaze as he took one of Elrond’s long 
hands in his small ones and stroked it lovingly.

	Elrond knelt so that he was eye-level with his lover.  “Frodo, I 
understand.  I have seen what you describe, and you show great 
consideration by worrying over his feelings.  Do you remember what I 
said this morning, about love?”

	Frodo nodded.  “Yes.  You said that no evil would ever come of it.  
Do you think that Sam is in love with me?”

	Elrond smiled kindly and replied, “Perhaps.  Or, perhaps he loves 
you a bit more dearly than he loves his other friends, and he is infatuated 
with you as well.  That could lead to the confusion that he seems to have.  
Only he can find the answer to that, Frodo.  Take heart, though.  From my 
observations, Samwise is not the sort of individual who will allow his 
confusion to sully the bond he shares with you.  You will not lose his 
friendship.”

	Frodo smiled and hugged Elrond, enjoying the elf’s closeness for a 
few moments before they had to leave the room.  His words reassured him 
and lifted some of the weight from his small shoulders.

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

	Frodo felt small and insignificant among the great leaders at the 
Council, and he was very thankful to have Bilbo there with him.  Sam, 
Merry and Pippin were told to busy themselves elsewhere in the Elven 
City until the Council ended.  Though this hurt them, they did understand 
that this was far too big a thing for Elrond to include everyone in it.  In 
fact, the only reason that Frodo and Bilbo were there was due to their 
connection to the ring.

	Elrond introduced Frodo to each representative present at the 
council, and he learned much about each of them.  First, Gloin spoke, 
telling of the fall of Moria, and that thirty years ago, his cousin Balin had 
gone with many of their folk to investigate rumors of the great city being 
retaken.  He went on to say that a year ago, a messenger arrived at Dain 
from Mordor: a rider swathed in black, which rode a black horse. He made 
a “peace offering” from Sauron, claming that his master would craft rings 
like the ones of old in return for the dwarves’ friendship.  The rider also 
asked about hobbits, and where they might be found.  He said that Sauron 
knew of one, which was a friend to the dwarves at one time.

	Frodo shivered as he listened to this, and his blue eyes flicked to 
Bilbo.  It was obvious which hobbit the dark rider was speaking of.  Bilbo 
took the news stoically, though he did reach out and give Frodo a light, 
reassuring pat on the arm.  To Frodo’s relief, he learned that the dwarves 
said nothing to the rider about Bilbo.  The rider promised the dwarves 
three of the rings that their forefathers once wore if they could bring the 
ring that “the thief” stole from Sauron.  The dwarves came to warn Bilbo, 
and to find out what they could about the mysterious ring.

	Next, Elrond stood and told of the rings of power, and how they 
were forged in the Second Age.  Many at the council only knew bits and 
pieces of the truth behind the legend, and the elven king had a captive 
audience.  Like wide-eyed children, the council members listened raptly to 
his recounting of those lost days, and how Numenor fell, and how the Last 
Alliance of Elves and Men came to be.  He paused and sighed heavily.

	“I remember how glorious those banners were, and how it lifted 
my heart to see my people working with that noble bloodline of Men to rid 
Middle Earth of the threat,” Elrond said in a droning voice.

	At that moment, it struck Frodo fully.  Elrond was really, truly 
there when all this happened!  Of course, he knew the legends, but for 
some reason it didn’t seem quite real to him, until his lover spoke of it as 
if it were yesterday.  He stared at the elf in astonishment and wonder, and 
marveled anew that such a being could love someone like him.  He dared 
not interrupt with questions, however.

	Elrond continued his story, going on to explain the claiming of the 
ring by Isildur, and how Elrond and Cirdan counseled him on the folly of 
keeping it for himself.  He ignored their advice and chose not to destroy it, 
for it had wormed its way into his heart.  Then it had betrayed him, to his 
death, and nobody knew what became of the ring until the day that Bilbo 
found it in Gollum’s cave.

	Again, there was a pause, and several council members looked at 
Bilbo with slightly doubtful expressions on their faces.  This soft looking, 
small creature had found the Ring of Power and held it for all these years?  
Only the dwarves seemed to accept it as truth.

	Boromir spoke next, and Frodo couldn’t hide the slight frown of 
distaste that curled his delicate mouth.  Elrond noticed it and gave the 
hobbit a small smile, his eyes asking for Frodo’s patience.  Frodo’s 
expression softened immediately, for he was unable to deny the beautiful 
elf lord anything that he asked for.  He didn’t know exactly what it was 
about Boromir that he disliked.  There was simply a feel to the man that 
made the hobbit nervous.  Perhaps it was his quick, urgent way of 
speaking and the passionate tone to his voice.  He seemed like one who 
allowed strong feelings to overtake logic.

	Frodo hardly listened to Boromir’s story.  The warrior said 
something about being in a company that defended a bridge from the 
armies of Mordor, and something about them being allied with people 
called Haradrim and Easterlings, whatever they were.  He claimed that 
both he and his brother were plagued by the same dream, and he had come 
to seek answers.  Frodo suddenly found himself listening more closely to 
the man as he described the words the voice in his dream had said to him:

“Seek for the Sword that was broken:
In Imladris it dwells;
There shall be counsels taken
Stronger than Morgul-spells.
There shall be shown a token
That Doom is near at hand,
For Isildur’s Bane shall waken,
And the Halfling forth shall stand.” (1.)

	“Neither my brother nor I could understand what these words 
meant, but it is becoming clear to me now,” Finished Boromir.  His dark 
eyes flicked to Frodo, who shrank away instinctively.

	It was then that Strider stood up and spoke for the first time since 
the meeting began.  “Here is at least one part of the riddle that can be 
made clear,” the ranger said, and he set his broken sword upon the table.  
The two pieces caught the light and reflected it.

	Here is where Frodo became lost again.  Boromir puffed up like an 
over inflated toad and challenged Strider.  His insults towards the ranger 
were hardly what the hobbit would call subtle.  Elrond settled the 
argument quite suddenly, by announcing; “He is Aragorn, son of 
Arathorn. and he is a direct descendant of Isildur himself.”

	Frodo’s mouth went slack for a moment, as did Boromir’s and the 
men in his company.  The hobbit finally found his voice and said, “Then 
the ring is not mine, after all!  It is yours!”  He had been told Strider’s true 
name already, but not his true identity.  He had no idea that the rough 
stranger who had frightened him so badly in the Prancing Pony and then 
protected him so well on the way here was the rightful king of Gondor!

	Aragorn shook his head.  “No.  It belongs to none of us.  For now, 
you are to hold it.”

	“Bring forth the ring, Frodo,” said Elrond, “show them all the 
cause of this Doom that hangs over our heads.”

	Slowly, hesitantly, the hobbit reached into his vest pocket and 
produced the ring.  He heard it whispering silently to him as he set it upon 
the table beside the shards of Narsil.  He fought his reluctance to let go of 
it, and when he withdrew his hand from the table and stepped back, he 
sighed in profound relief.  It was out of his hands, now.  Wiser heads than 
his could now decide what to do with it.

	Boromir’s eyes glinted as he stared at the ring, the hobbit, and the 
broken sword, and he seemed extraordinarily pleased with himself for 
solving the riddle in the dream.  “It is destiny, then!  I was meant to find 
the One Ring, and return it to Gondor, so that we might use it against the 
enemy!” He cried.

	“That mistake has already been made once, and it is because of 
attempts to keep the ring that we are all in such danger now!”  Snapped 
Gandalf irritably.  

	“The ring belongs to no-one save Sauron,” Aragorn firmly added, 
“None of us can use it.  It would instead use us to conduct it’s evil.”

	“Then what would you suggest?” Growled Boromir, “That we 
leave it in the hands of these small creatures here, who would not be able 
to protect it from the evil that searches for it?”

	Bilbo huffed indignantly, but for once, Frodo agreed with Boromir.  
The Shire was most certainly the last place in Middle Earth to hide the 
ring!

	“I will not touch it,” Said Elrond evenly, “the ring corrupts all who 
bear it.  Some are simply more resilient to it’s evil and do not succumb as 
quickly as others.  There are two choices that we can make.  We can hide 
the ring and pray that it is never found again, or we can destroy it.”

	The gathered races hesitated and quieted, looking at one another 
suspiciously.  Gimli, son of Gloin, finally spoke up.  “Well, if it’s to be 
destruction, what are we waiting for?” 

	Elrond shook his head.  “We cannot destroy it by any means that 
we have here.  In order to do this, someone must take it back into the lands 
of Mordor, and into the very place where it was forged.  Only in the fires 
of Orodruin can the ring be un-made.”

	Boromir looked at the elven king in stark disbelief.  “That is 
madness!  One cannot simply stroll through the blackened lands of 
Mordor and into Mount Doom!  You could not accomplish this with an 
entire army!”

	Prince Legolas interjected, “There is no other choice!  Lord Elrond 
is right!  Someone must do as he says, or a second darkness will surely 
cover the lands!”

	Bilbo flailed his arms and cried, “Well then, who is that to be?  
Who do you expect to go on this cracked campaign you’ve set forth?”

	Elrond covered his mouth and coughed, and Frodo could tell that 
the elf was trying not to smile at Bilbo’s descriptive outburst.  

	Mistaking Elrond’s gesture as a hint, Bilbo slowly nodded.  “Ah, I 
see.  Bilbo the silly hobbit started this whole thing, and Bilbo the silly 
hobbit had better finish it.  Well, I suppose I am responsible, after all...”

	Elrond hid his alarm well as he put his hand on the elderly hobbit’s 
shoulder and shook his head.  “No, my friend.  This has passed beyond 
your hands.  Do not trouble yourself.”  The elf lord didn’t like the way 
Bilbo’s gaze latched hungrily on the ring.

	“Well then, who?” questioned Gloin.

	“That is what we are trying to decide!” snapped Gandalf 
impatiently.  The wizard was looking everywhere but at Frodo, and so was 
Elrond, for that matter.  The gentlehobbit was no fool.  He could see that 
both of them were desperate to leave him out of this.  Frodo sat quietly 
and hoped that a suitable candidate could be found, for he wanted nothing 
more to do with the ring.  When he had left in on the table and said his 
farewells to the troublesome thing, the pressure that he had been feeling 
inside lifted.  Even his shoulder stopped aching so much.  

	Arguments began, and they began to segregate among themselves.  
The elves and dwarves shouted over one another’s heads to be heard, and 
the humans shouted over both of them...which incidentally angered the 
elves and dwarves further.  Gandalf shook his head and stood up to try and 
resolve the problem, but the council members were so caught up in their 
arguments that to them, he sounded just like any of the hollering humans.  

	Elrond looked on with the expression of a long-suffering parent 
witnessing a fight between children.  His velvet gaze turned to Frodo, and 
the hobbit saw the distress in his eyes.  Frodo stared at the ring, for it had 
begun to whisper again.  How he could hear it above all the noise, he 
couldn’t say, but it was chanting; 

“Ash nazg durbatuluk,
ash nazg gimbatul,
ash nazg thrakatuluk
agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.”

	Frodo put his hand over his forehead as a headache began to 
surface.  The ring’s evil chant grew louder and more frightening as those 
of the council argued more vehemently.  The hobbit went still and 
widened his blue eyes, sure that he was seeing things.  The polished 
surface of the ring was reflecting the arguing races in a warped manner, 
making their faces seem twisted with hate that only orc faces should be 
able to express.  Frodo could swear that he saw flames surrounding the 
council.  He could feel the heat.  Breathing became difficult, and sweat 
beaded upon his brow.  He looked up at Elrond to see if he was 
experiencing the same thing, but the elf was shaking his head and sharing 
a look with Gandalf of sheer exasperation.

	Against his will, Frodo’s eyes shifted back to the ring, and he 
trembled in horror as the flesh burned from the bones of those in the 
reflection.  The ring was laughing at him now, laughing at his weakness 
and his loathing of what it was showing him.  “Stop it,” he rasped.  That 
hateful chant began again, and the council members in the reflections were 
little more than charred skeletons whose blackened flesh flaked away as 
they moved.  “Stop it,” Frodo moaned, closing his eyes.  The image 
remained there, and the horrible laughter increased.  Finally, the hobbit 
could take no more.  He stood up and shouted; “Stop it!” as loudly as he 
could.

	Amazingly, Frodo’s shrill cry pierced through their blind anger, 
and the council did, indeed, stop and stare at him.  “I will take the ring to 
Mordor,” Frodo said with firm resolve, “though, I do not know the way.”

	Gandalf closed his eyes, and a swift spasm of pain crossed his 
lined face.  Elrond gazed at Frodo with a combination of admiration and 
agony in his dark eyes.  His fears were realized, and no matter how much 
he wanted to, he could not deny that this seemed to be the only way.

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

-To be continued

	
Title:  Hidden Strength (12/?)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Rating: PG
Summary: The White Council has finished, and Frodo has much to think 
about.  Elrond seeks time alone with the hobbit, and he eases Frodo's 
angst.
Disclaimer:  All characters in this story and Middle Earth belong to 
Tolkien.  This is purely for entertainment, and no profit is made from it.


“Hidden Strength”
Part 12

	All were silent in the Council.  Frodo stood stunned by his own 
words, unbelieving that he had spoken them.  Elrond’s gaze was piercing 
as he said softly, “This is meant to be, Frodo.  Though it grieves me, I can 
think of no other as suitable as you to bear the ring.  You will not go 
alone, however.  We shall choose companions to travel with you, and 
protect you.”

	“Mister Frodo’s not going anywhere without me!” Cried a familiar 
voice from around the bend.  Elrond turned with raised eyebrows to find 
Samwise Gamgee hurrying to Frodo’s side.  Frodo couldn’t stop his grin 
and the sigh of relief that passed his lips as his servant stood beside him.

	“Indeed,” said Elrond with amusement, “it seems impossible to 
separate the two of you, even when he is brought to a private council, and 
you are not.”

	Several of the other council members chuckled at the jest, and 
Samwise blushed and put his hands on his hips.  Elrond announced that 
the meeting was at an end, for now.  They would decide on who would 
accompany Frodo on his quest later.  “Come along, my lad,” Bilbo said to 
his heir, “I’ve a few things I’d like you to have for this journey.”  Frodo 
cast one last look at Elrond, then the ring.

	“I shall have a chain made for it, Frodo.  You needn’t worry over 
anyone taking it,” Elrond assured his lover.  Frodo nodded and bit his lip, 
then went with Bilbo.  Sam started to eagerly follow the Bagginses, but 
Elrond stopped him with a long hand on his shoulder.  “A moment if you 
will, Samwise,” he said softly, so that those leaving couldn’t hear.

	Sam winced, figuring he was going to get a good talking-to for 
sneaking into the council uninvited.  “I’m right sorry about that, mister 
Elrond sir,” he said in a nervous voice, “I just couldn’t stop worrying over 
it!  I know I should have waited, but mister Frodo needed me, and-“

	“Hush, Sam.  I did not ask you to stay behind so that I could 
lecture you,” Elrond said in amusement.

	The gardener relaxed a bit and looked up at the elven king 
suspiciously.  “Well, if you aren’t punishing me, what do you want?  If 
you’ll pardon my asking, sir.”  Samwise blushed, remembering who he 
was talking to and realizing how disrespectful he was being.

	Elrond smiled at the flustered hobbit to ease his discomfort.  “I 
merely wanted to ask you something.”

	Puzzled over what someone like Elrond could possibly have to ask 
of someone like him, Sam went still.  Elrond took a deep breath and blew 
it out slowly.  His amazing eyes caught and held Sam’s as he said, “I 
know that it’s rather redundant of me to ask this of you, Sam.  However, I 
want for you to make a promise to me.  Promise me that you will protect 
Frodo on this journey.”

	Surprised by the request, Sam said, “’O course I will...with my 
own life!”

	Elrond knelt before Sam, and the gardener was confused by the 
intensity in his dark eyes.  “The sort of protection that I am asking you to 
give is much more difficult than using your fists or a blade to defend him, 
Samwise.  Protect Frodo from himself.  Do you understand?”  Elrond’s 
gaze slowly slid from Sam to the ring, which was still sitting on the table.

	Sam followed the elf’s gaze and swallowed hard.  Protect Frodo 
from himself?  Oh dear...what would that horrible ring do to his master?  
“The ring,” Sam whispered, “I think I get what you’re saying, sir.  Even 
someone as pure as Frodo might lose his way with that thing whispering at 
him all the time, right?”

	Elrond nodded.  “Just so.”  He looked at Sam again and continued, 
“He will need someone to remind him of why he is bearing this burden, 
Sam.  Someone who loves him, someone who brings the Shire with him.  
Frodo may very well lose himself before he reaches his destination, if you 
do not lend him your strength.  Even as powerful as his will is, I fear for 
what may happen as the ring wears it away.”

	Samwise flushed at Elrond’s words.  Someone who loves him...so, 
the elf king knew about his feelings.  What he said about Frodo losing 
himself reminded Sam of what Gandalf made him promise; “Don’t you 
lose him, Samwise Gamgee!”

	Sam knew that arguing with Elrond about his feelings wouldn’t 
help.  As one who loved Frodo as much as the gardener did, Elrond could 
see right through him.  Samwise nodded solemnly and said, “You have my 
word, sir.”

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

	Sam was so deep in thought that he didn’t even notice Merry 
hurrying towards him.  The gardener walked through the halls of Elrond’s 
great house with his head down and his eyes on his furry feet.  He nearly 
swallowed his teeth when Merry grabbed his arm and said urgently, 
“Come on, Sam...we’re having a meeting in Bilbo’s room!  Hurry up!”

	The Brandybuck practically dragged the startled gardener down the 
side corridor to Bilbo’s room.  Frodo, Pippin and Bilbo were already there 
when they arrived.  “Ah, here he is...the sneak!” Said Pippin.  The 
youngest hobbit had a distinctive pout on his features, and Sam wondered 
why he was so angry.

	“I did what I thought was best, you,” Samwise said indignantly, 
poking Pippin in the chest.

	“Well, it’s hardly fair that you were rewarded for it!” Countered 
the Took.

	“Rewarded?” Frodo laughed incredulously, “How do you figure?  I 
cannot think of a worse punishment than making him come along on this 
journey.  This is not going to be a hike through the woods, Pippin.”

	Merry argued, “We know that, Frodo.  Regardless, Pippin and I 
want to come with you.  You need friends on an expedition like this, as 
well as guards!  You cannot expect us to leave you to face this alone.”

	“That’s right!” Added Pippin, “we hobbits have to stick together, 
and you need people of intelligence on this...this...thing!”

	“In that case,” boomed a voice from outside the window, startling 
the five hobbits badly, “You most certainly won’t be picked, Peregrin 
Took!”

	“Gandalf,” wheezed Bilbo, relaxing the deathgrip he had on 
Frodo’s arm, “you’ve done a fine job of scaring a few more years from 
this old hobbit!”

	Gandalf smiled and rested his elbows on the windowsill.  “Nothing 
has been decided yet.  There is no need to be so anxious.”

	“Well, they’ve decided to shuck this duty on my nephew, that’s for 
certain!” Bilbo growled.

	“Be that as it may, it will be a few weeks before a party is decided 
on to accompany Frodo and Samwise.  I suggest you all try to relax and 
enjoy Rivendell, in the meantime.”

	“Where has Aragorn gone?” Frodo asked, “I wanted to ask him 
more about his family, but he left before I could find him.”

	“He has gone with Elrond’s sons.  I was not told what they are 
doing.”

	Frodo’s eyes widened in surprise.  Elrond’s sons?  Why haven’t I 
met them?”

	Gandalf chuckled at the hurt tone in the hobbit’s voice.  “Elladan 
and Elrohir were here for a very short time this morning, and as soon as 
the council ended, they left with Aragorn.  You shall meet them upon their 
return, I’m sure.”

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

	Elrond was so eager to get business taken care of and find Frodo 
that he barely paid attention to what was going on around him.  Of course, 
the most important decisions had already been made.  All that was left was 
to organize for the visitors to stay until a decision of who would 
accompany Frodo on his quest was made.  Scouting parties were sent out 
to try and locate the black riders, for Elrond knew that they hadn’t been 
destroyed in the river.  By the time all of this was taken care of, the elf 
king felt tired.  He needed to meditate, but more than that, he needed to 
speak with Frodo.  The hobbit would need comfort in the light of the 
recent events, and Elrond needed Frodo’s presence just as badly.  There 
was no way of knowing for certain how long they had together before 
Frodo must set out...a month, or perhaps two at most.

	Elrond searched all over the place for his lover, and he finally 
found Frodo sitting alone at the top of the hill where they had shared their 
first kiss.  The elf king started forward eagerly, but stopped when he heard 
soft sniffles coming from the huddled form.  Even in the darkness, Elrond 
could see that Frodo’s shoulders were shaking.  So as not to startle him, 
Elrond said, “Frodo?  May I sit with you?”  He approached slowly.

	Frodo rubbed his eyes vigorously on his sleeve in a vain attempt to 
dry his tears, and when he looked up at Elrond, those soulful blue eyes 
pierced the elf’s heart to the quick.  “It has poisoned Bilbo,” Frodo said 
simply.

	Elrond sat down beside the hobbit and asked, “What do you 
mean?”

	Frodo reached into the open collar of his shirt and drew the ring 
out, which hung on a silver chain around his neck, which Elrond had 
arranged to be crafted for him.  The hobbit’s gaze was both contemplative 
and angry as he looked at the dangling ring.  “Bilbo gave me his old 
mithril shirt and Sting,” Frodo whispered, “and when I began to remove 
my shirt to try the mithril on, he saw the ring around my neck.  His eyes 
had an odd light in them.  I’ve never seen him look that way, before.  He 
started to reach out to the ring and said he wanted to hold it, one last 
time.”

	Elrond put his arm around Frodo’s shoulders and drew the hobbit 
close as his voice thickened with emotion.  “Go on, beloved.”

	Frodo’s eyes were haunted as they lifted to meet Elrond’s.  “I said 
that I didn’t think it was a good idea, and he...changed.  His mouth opened 
wider than I thought a hobbit’s could, and his eyes bugged out, and he 
started to slobber and froth at the mouth!  He...he lunged at me, and I 
jerked back and raised my fist.  I didn’t want to hit him, Elrond, but I 
could think of nothing else to do!”  Frodo bit his lip and fought a rising 
sob, and Elrond squeezed him and kissed his forehead.  Taking a deep, 
shuddering breath, the hobbit finished, “Fortunately, it never came to 
striking him.  I think that the shock of seeing his ‘nephew’ poised to hit 
him must have broken through his madness.  He collapsed after that and 
apologized, then started to cry.  I was almost afraid to hug him, after what 
had happened!  I did, however.  Oh, Elrond...will this happen to everyone 
who is near the ring?  Will everyone I care about start to change?  Will I?”

	Elrond frowned, trying to come up with some comforting words.  
He could not lie to Frodo, however.  “You will find that some will resist 
the temptation of the ring more than others, Frodo.  I shall do my best to 
choose companions who are least likely to be affected by it, but you must 
be aware that even the most stalwart can be corrupted by its allure.  I think 
that you have the courage and will to resist it, and your Samwise is so 
stubborn that even if he hears the call of the ring, he is likely to tell it to 
‘shut up’.”

	Frodo laughed at this, some of the tragedy fading from his 
beautiful eyes.  “Thank you, Elrond.  You don’t know how much it means 
to me, to have someone as wise as you be truthful towards me and advise 
me as you do.  No matter what happens in the future, I’ll carry you forever 
in my heart.”

	Elrond slid his hand under Frodo’s chin and tilted his head back, 
then brought his mouth down to claim his lips.  Frodo clung to the elf, 
delighting in the feelings that swept through him as the satiny mouth 
moved against his.  It wasn’t an urgent kiss, for both of them needed 
emotional gratitude more than sexual release.  Their lips moved softly 
against one another, their hands caressed each other’s faces and shoulders, 
and their bodies pressed tightly to one another’s.  “Come with me to my 
room tonight, el hen,” whispered Elrond when he broke the kiss, “this is 
one of the rare occasions where I feel that I need rest, and I would prefer 
to hold you in my arms.”

	“Of course,” Frodo answered immediately, tracing his lover’s firm 
jaw with his fingertips.  This was just what he needed.  A quiet night of 
kissing and holding and comforting.  Whether it would lead to something 
more, neither of them could tell.  For the moment, they only wanted to be 
together.  They stood up and walked hand in hand through the garden, 
heading to the buildings.

	“Will you introduce me to your sons when they return?” Frodo 
asked.

	“Of course, Frodo.  I apologize for not doing so sooner, but they 
have been quite busy.  I think that you’ll find them to be nothing like me.”  
Elrond smiled down at him.

	“Really?”  Frodo said in surprise, “They take after their mother?”

	Elrond shrugged.  “A bit.  They are twins, though you will see that 
their personalities differ enough to make up for the confusion people have 
when trying to tell them apart.  Both favor me in looks, but it ends there.  
They are more like Aragorn than any elf I have ever known.”

	Frodo grinned at that.  For some reason, a picture of a pair of 
Elrond look-a-likes with wild hair and the beginnings of a beard flashed in 
his head.  The image was so ridiculous that he laughed out loud.  Elves 
could not even grow facial hair...how silly!

	“Find that amusing, do you?” Elrond said with a chuckle.

	Frodo cleared his throat and pinched his lips, trying to contain the 
giggles that continued to rise in his chest.  “I’m sorry,” he finally blurted, 
stopping on the pathway and doubling over, “but I always think of 
Aragorn as ‘Strider’ when he is mentioned.  Wild looking, dangerous, dark 
and handsome.  When you said that they are like him, I pictured you with 
tangled hair and a beard!”  Tears began to stream down the hobbit’s face 
and he clutched Elrond’s leg to keep from falling over with mirth.

	Elrond tried to imagine it, but he simply couldn’t picture himself or 
his sons in such a state.  Despite this, the way Frodo’s face lit up when he 
laughed and the merry twinkle in his eyes made Elrond smile.  “Darkly 
handsome, is he?” the elf said with mock jealousy, “Now my lover AND 
my daughter are smitten with Aragorn.”

	Frodo went along with the act and tapped his chin thoughtfully.  
“Well, Aragorn is sooo strong and forceful!  I think I should like someone 
like that.”

	“Strong and forceful, eh? Nin maelui pen(1), we shall see about 
that!” Elrond cried, and he lifted Frodo and carried the giggling hobbit off 
the path and into the bushes.

	“What are you doing?” Frodo said between chuckles, struggling 
lightly for the sake of the game.

	“Teaching you not to have a roving eye, my delectable hobbit,” 
Elrond said, nibbling Frodo’s earlobe when he finished speaking.

	Frodo gave a little sigh as tingles shot through him from the simple 
act.  Perhaps simply lying together was not on the agenda for tonight, after 
all.

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

(1.)	My lustful one

-To be continued

	

Title: Hidden Strength (13/?)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Rating: R
Summary: Sometimes, a couple can get a bit too playful.
Disclaimer:  Middle Earth and all its characters are the property of Tolkien.  I 
write these purely for entertainment, and make no money from doing so.

“Hidden Strength”
Part 13

	Elrond laid Frodo down on the ground, a few yards away from the paths 
and into the gardens, so that they would be out of sight.  His nimble fingers 
unfastened the buttons of the hobbit’s vest and pulled his shirt out of his breeches 
so that he could slide his hands beneath the material and touch his body.  Frodo’s 
sigh of arousal was quickly replaced with an indignant squeak, for the elf lord 
began to tickle him.  “Oh!  Foul!  That’s cheating!” the hobbit cried breathlessly, 
squirming to escape Elrond’s relentless hands.

	Elrond grinned toothily and put his weight partially on Frodo to hold him 
still, and he continued to stroke the hobbit's ribs with his fingertips.  “There 
now...what was that about Aragorn, sweet hobbit?  Do you still stand by your 
original statement?”  To make the torture worse, he began to blow into Frodo’s 
ear.

	“Geeeee!  Stop it!” Frodo laughed, trying to tilt his head away from the 
elf’s mouth, while at the same time slithering his small body to avoid the tickling 
fingers.  His face was red from laughter and embarrassment; Elrond’s playful 
attentions were having a bigger effect on Frodo than merely making him laugh.  
The hobbit grew harder and harder as Elrond tickled him, and if he weren’t 
laughing so hard, he would have wondered why on Middle Earth his body was 
reacting that way.

	Elrond noticed it too.  He could feel Frodo’s erection pressing hard 
against his hip.  Just as he was about to stop his tormenting of his small captive, 
Frodo jerked violently and suddenly gasped with pain.  His back arched and his 
mouth opened wide, and his right hand reached up to cover his wounded 
shoulder.  “Ai, Frodo!” gasped Elrond, “Forgive me, I should not have gotten 
rough with you.  Here, allow me to see to it.”  He gently pried the hobbit’s hand 
off of the wounded shoulder and unbuttoned Frodo’s shirt.  He pulled the 
material open and examined the angry scar with a clinical eye.  “It has become 
aggravated,” Elrond whispered guiltily, “Come, I shall take you to my room and 
smooth a balm over it to ease it.  I am sorry, Frodo.”

	Frodo gazed up at him with pain glazed eyes and smiled benignly.  
“Don’t blame yourself, Elrond.  It was my squirming that did it, not your 
tickling.”

	“Even so, it was my tickling that caused you to squirm, and therefore, I 
am responsible for your pain,” Elrond retorted without missing a beat.  He gently 
lifted his smaller companion into his arms and stood up.

	Frodo sighed and rested his head against Elrond’s chest as the elf carried 
him back to the pathways.  There was no use arguing with Elrond, and he quite 
liked being held like this...even if was slightly undignified.  Frodo allowed 
himself the pleasure of being held by someone bigger and stronger than himself, 
and he focused on the silken feeling of Elrond’s chest against his cheek, to take 
his mind off of the throbbing pain shooting through his shoulder.  The hobbit 
didn’t care who saw them.

	Once they were in Elrond’s room, the elf carried his patient to the huge 
bed and laid him down in the center.  Frodo looked around with curious blue 
eyes, and he frowned.  Elrond paused as he started to move to the cabinet against 
the south wall.  “What is it, Frodo?”

	Frodo bit his lip, wondering how to say what was on his mind without 
sounding insulting.  Finally, he shrugged and said, “I expected your personal 
chambers to be a bit...well...more grand.  It’s lovely,” he added quickly, “but I 
thought it would be huge.  A sort of miniature palace, if you follow me.”

	Elrond smiled in amusement and opened the cabinet to search for the 
salve.  “I once had quite a large bedroom, but I found it to become lonely, after 
my wife went into the West.  Not only that, but the winters made the room quite 
chilly at night, even with the fireplace lit.  I chose to convert my bedroom into a 
guestroom for visitors of high social standing, and moved into one of the smaller 
rooms.  I am much happier with this size, to be truthful.”

	Frodo blushed, worrying that he had offended his host.  “It truly is 
lovely, and I meant no offence.  I suppose I thought that a king would have 
a...a...” he blushed even hotter and couldn’t finish.

	Elrond turned and lifted a dark eyebrow at him.  “A more ‘kingly’ 
room?”

	Frodo nodded, then winced when the movement caused his shoulder to 
throb even more.

	Elrond’s smile was kind and understanding as he returned to the bedside 
and opened the jar of brownish colored ointment.  “It’s perfectly alright, Frodo.  
Do not be embarrassed for your questions, as I don’t find them offensive in the 
least.  Most in my position would indeed have a gigantic bedroom.  After living 
alone for so long, I simply lost interest in size.”

	Frodo snorted and covered his mouth on a giggle.  “That’s a good thing 
for me,” he managed to say.  Laughing made his shoulder hurt more, but he 
couldn’t help it.

	Elrond tilted his head in puzzlement and his eyes went blank, as he tried 
reviewed his own words in his head and tried to figure out what Frodo found so 
amusing.  Finally, a grin tugged at his lips and his eyes sparkled down at the 
hobbit.  “Ah, meaning that if I were preoccupied with size, I might not have had 
an interest in you?  I suppose it is a good thing, then.”  His voice was a velvety, 
teasing caress that brought shivers up and down Frodo’s spine.

	Elrond seated himself on the edge of the bed and finished unbuttoning 
Frodo’s shirt, and then he pulled it open and began to apply the salve.  “This will 
make the swelling go down, el hen.  I shall use my healing on you as I rub it into 
the scar.  Forgive me if it causes discomfort at first.”

	Frodo held himself still and didn’t complain as the elf gently rubbed the 
ointment into his aching scar.  Elrond’s eyes flicked from his shoulder to his face 
often, to gauge if he was pressing too hard.  The hobbit suffered in silence, biting 
his lip now and then.  The pain began to fade, and Elrond’s long hand went still 
and rested over the wound.  Frodo sighed in relief as warmth filled his shoulder 
and soothed the chilled ache deep within.  “Thank you, Elrond.  You are too good 
to me.”

	Elrond’s response was to lean forward and kiss Frodo lingeringly.  When 
he pulled back, the hobbit was staring at him with a question burning in his blue 
eyes.  “I shall probably regret asking you this, but what do you suppose your wife 
would think of what has happened between you and I?” Frodo groaned inwardly 
as soon as the question passed his lips.  Now, why did he have to ruin the 
moment by saying such an absurd thing?  He answered himself immediately.  * 
Because you are jealous of her.  You worry that Elrond will travel to the West 
and forget about you entirely.*

	Elrond paused for a moment and ran his fingers through Frodo’s curls 
thoughtfully.  “I would imagine she would be fine with it, Frodo.  She and I did 
not always spend our evenings alone, to be honest with you.”

	The surprise that Frodo felt at the admission made him forget what little 
pain was left in his shoulder, and he struggled to sit up.  “W-what?” he gasped.

	“Shhh...do not aggravate your wound, lend el hen.  You should not find 
this information so surprising, given what you know of my people and their 
views on love.” His dark, starry eyes were troubled as he lowered himself onto 
his side next to Frodo and propped rested his head in his hand.  “Know this, 
Frodo.  As long as I exist, I shall always love you.   I shall also love Celebrian 
just as strongly.  Does this knowledge hurt you?”

	Frodo considered this and reached out to touch Elrond’s silken cheek.  
“Not as much as I would have thought,” he whispered, “after all, it’s only fair.  
She IS your wife, and the mother of your children.  I suppose if she can share 
you, so can I.”

	Elrond smiled and pulled Frodo into his embrace.  “You know, I do 
believe she would be as taken with you as I am.  She has always appreciated dark 
hair and fair skin, and you are positively a wonderful person, Frodo.”

	The hobbit kissed Elrond’s neck and murmured, “I wish that you would 
stop giving me airs like that.  I have plenty of faults, you know.”

	“None so strong that they take away from what is good and right in you,” 
Elrond argued.

	Frodo was hardly listening, for he had discovered that the feel of 
Elrond’s petal-soft skin against his lips was far to intoxicating to stop.  He 
continued to drag his mouth along Elrond’s neck, and he parted the material of 
the elf’s embroidered robe to bare the top portion of his chest.  “I take it you are 
feeling better,” Elrond murmured softly, kissing the crown of the hobbit’s head 
as Frodo kissed and licked his chest.

	“Much, thank you,” Frodo responded.  He shimmied down Elrond’s long 
form and grasped the hem of his robe.  “I want this off,” he demanded, raising 
fiery blue eyes to his lover.

	“Far be it from me to protest,” Elrond said, and he sat up and removed 
the garment, then folded it neatly and set it on the chair beside the bed.

	“These too,” Frodo commented, running his hand down Elrond’s 
breeches.  The simple caress ignited fires in the elf’s blood, and he kissed Frodo 
deeply while he removed his boots and breeches.  Frodo broke the kiss and 
pulled away from Elrond once he was naked, so that he could enjoy the sight of 
the elf’s smooth, lithe body.  “Lie back,” he commanded huskily.  A small part of 
him was flabbergasted that he had the nerve to speak to Lord Elrond this way, but 
Frodo stubbornly ignored it and crawled on top of his lover as the elf complied 
with his wishes.

	“You are quite the unpredictable creature, Frodo,” Elrond sighed as the 
hobbit straddled him.  

	“But you like it, don’t you?” Frodo said as he leaned forward and 
touched the tip of his nose to Elrond’s.

	Elrond’s vision was filled with the hobbit’s amazingly blue eyes, and he 
swallowed and said, “Aye, I like it very much.”  He kissed Frodo then, sliding his 
tongue past the hobbit’s lips and teasing the moist recesses within, while his 
hands began to undress Frodo.  The hobbit’s vest and shirt soon joined Elrond’s 
robe on the chair, and the elf murmured, “I cannot remove the rest whilst you are 
sitting this way, beloved.”

	Frodo obligingly lay atop Elrond and lifted his hips so that the elf could 
pull his trousers off.  It was Elrond’s turn to admire Frodo’s slim form.  
Completely nude save for the chain and ring round his neck, Frodo was a vision 
of fragile beauty.  His smooth, hairless chest was lean muscled and firm, his rose-
pink nipples were small and hard with desire, and his belly was flat and smooth.  
Again, Elrond had to marvel at Frodo’s build.  Most unusual, for a halfling.  He 
reached up and put his hands around Frodo’s waist, stroking the pale flesh in a 
sensual glide that made the hobbit gasp.

	Frodo closed his bright eyes and whispered, “I wish that I could stay here 
with you forever, Elrond.  I cannot stop thinking of what may happen-“

	Elrond pressed his fingertips against Frodo’s lips and whispered, “Shhh, 
do not think of such things tonight, el hen.  Do not think of this.” he briefly 
touched to golden band hanging on the chain around Frodo’s neck, and the 
hobbit’s eyes flashed open.  His tension drained immediately when Elrond did 
not continue to touch the ring.  Rather, the elflord grasped the chain in his fingers 
and lifted it over Frodo’s head.  A protest began to form on the hobbit’s lips, but 
Elrond only dropped the chain on top of their discarded clothing, and then turned 
his dark gaze back to the hobbit and disregarded the thing altogether.  “Close 
your eyes, Frodo.  Do not think, just feel.”

	Frodo did as he was asked, and he moaned softly as Elrond’s hands 
began to stroke his body.  The elf stared up at his lover as he touched his face, his 
chest, and his stomach.  He loved the way Frodo’s dark curls framed his delicate 
features and fell to his shoulders, loved the way the small, pointed tips of the 
hobbit’s ears peeked out through the soft main.  He brought his hands up again 
and threaded his fingers into Frodo’s hair, softly stroking the sensitive points of 
his ears.  Frodo’s head lolled in pleasure, and his bow-shaped lips parted to 
release a sigh.

	Elrond slid his hands down Frodo’s neck and shoulders, then his arms, 
until he reached the hobbit’s hands.  He stroked one of them, while he brought 
the other to his lips and drew two of the small fingers into his mouth, sucking 
gently.  Frodo’s heavy lids lifted slightly to allow a sliver of blue flame to peer 
down at the elflord.  Elrond caressed Frodo’s body with his eyes as he caressed 
his fingers with his lips and tongue.  He gazed at the hobbit’s full erection, 
admiring the pink organ and the way it tightened and throbbed from the attention 
he was giving Frodo’s fingers.  He released Frodo’s fingers from his mouth to 
murmur, “may I do this to other parts of you, Frodo?”  His gaze rested pointedly 
on the stiff shaft between the hobbit’s legs.

	Frodo followed his gaze and swallowed, his throat working as he tried to 
make himself speak.  He had done what Elrond was suggesting to past lovers 
before, but had never had it done to him.  “I...of course, Elrond,” he stammered 
nervously.  What would it feel like?  It must be a pleasurable sensation, given the 
sounds his lovers made when he did it to them.  He was blushing now, and he 
hated that.  He wanted to be in control of himself, not shying away in 
embarrassment every time Elrond did something new to him!

	“Lie down in my place, Frodo,” Elrond coaxed as he lifted the hobbit off 
of his body.

	Frodo obeyed, feeling awkward and as skittish as a virgin.  Elrond parted 
the hobbit’s thighs and stretched out on the bed, and then his mouth was taking 
Frodo’s straining cock into its depths and sucking hard on it.  Frodo squeaked in 
shocked surprise, having expected his lover to take it slow.  Elrond, apparently, 
was too eager to taste him to move cautiously.  Frodo’s hands rested on Elrond’s 
head, his fingers threading into the satiny, black hair as the elf took him in and 
out of his mouth.  Elrond paused for a moment and released the slickened 
member, long enough to say, “Frodo, you are pulling my hair,” with a slightly 
painful grin at the hobbit.

	“S-sorry,” Frodo panted, and he let go of Elrond’s head to grip the 
bedsheets.  

	“Relax, el hen.  It is much more satisfying, that way,” Elrond whispered.

	Frodo breathed a sigh and lay back, closing his eyes.  Elrond began 
again, at a slower, less intense pace this time.  "Ooooh,” Frodo moaned, his eyes 
opening wide with disbelief.  Each firm pull of Elrond’s mouth felt as if it was 
drawing all the sensation in Frodo’s body down to his groin.  Elrond released the 
organ again, only to lick up and down the length of it.  Frodo shuddered in 
pleasure and raised his hips, wanting more.  Elrond obliged by circling the 
swollen cap at the tip with his tongue, licking the salty drops of fluid that began 
to leak from it.  Then he sucked the organ into his mouth again, and Frodo 
groaned.

	Elrond’s breath quickened with desire, and he was pleased with the 
results he was getting.  Frodo’s penis was silken and warm in his mouth, and the 
elf enjoyed suckling it immensely.  Frodo was thrusting his hips wantonly and 
arching his back as the pleasure grew more and more intense.  His breath hitched 
unevenly and he began to cry out loudly.  “W-wait,” the hobbit moaned, pushing 
at Elrond’s shoulders, “I am going...to spill myself...too soon!”

	Elrond was slightly puzzled, for that was precisely the point.  However, 
Frodo was begging him to stop, and so he did.  When the elf lord looked down at 
his lover with questioning eyes, Frodo gasped, “I want to do...what you said that 
we could do last evening.  I have never been the one to...to...” Frodo blushed and 
trailed off, his blue eyes lowering shyly.

	Elrond understood, and he smiled and moved up on the bed so that he 
could kiss Frodo tenderly.  “Of course, little love.  I shall retrieve the oil from the 
cabinet.”

	Frodo watched him, admiring the smooth curve of the elf’s buttocks as 
he walked across the room to the cabinet.  The hobbit tried to calm his breathing 
and the thundering of his heart.  How hard could it be?  All he had to do was 
position himself at the right spot and thrust his hips forward, right?  Somehow, 
Frodo didn’t think it was as simple as that, however.

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

-To be continued



Title: Hidden Strength (14/?)
Author: Xenobia
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Rating: NC-17
Summary: See part 13
Disclaimer:  The usual.  Tolkien's characters, my dirty mind, profit-free, 
don't sue me.
 
“Hidden Strength”
Part 14

	Elrond returned to the bed and lay down beside Frodo.  The hobbit 
swallowed hard as Elrond opened the bottle of oil and poured some of it 
onto his hand.  Noticing how nervous Frodo was, the elf smiled.  “Try to 
relax, Frodo.  Just let it happen.”  Then he began to smooth the scented oil 
over Frodo’s erection, squeezing the throbbing organ firmly and making 
the hobbit gasp.  He kissed Frodo’s parted lips and lay down on his back, 
coaxing the hobbit to stretch out on top of him.

	Frodo was trembling and gasping as he rolled over on top of his 
lover.  “Now, smooth some of the oil over my entrance, Frodo,” 
commanded Elrond as he handed the bottle to him.  With shaking hands, 
Frodo dripped some of the oil onto his fingers and situated himself 
between the elf’s smooth, pale thighs.  It was difficult to concentrate, for 
Elrond’s talented hand was still stroking his erection.  Frodo moaned 
softly and rotated his hips in time with the elf’s touch, and he reached 
down between Elrond’s thighs and found his sphincter.  Frodo grasped 
Elrond’s wrist with his free hand and gazed at the elf with heavy-lidded 
eyes.

	“I am going to be unable to even start, if you continue to do that,” 
Frodo said with a breathy chuckle.

	“Ah, forgive me, el hen.  I suppose I am a bit too fascinated with 
your body.  I shall refrain from touching you there, for now.” Elrond’s 
dark eyes were lusty and playful.  He removed his gripping hand and 
caressed Frodo’s back, instead.  He sighed in pleasure as the hobbit gently 
and hesitantly entered him with one finger.

	“It isn’t hurting you, is it?” Frodo questioned.

	Elrond smiled at him.  “Not at all, Frodo.  I promise that I shall let 
you know if I feel any discomfort.”  He hid his amusement of Frodo’s 
bashful exploration of his most secret place.  The hobbit’s expression was 
both curious and excited as he added a second finger to the penetration 
and slowly stroked in and out with them.  Elrond closed his eyes and 
moved his hips encouragingly, finding Frodo’s gentleness to be very 
arousing.  He didn’t see the mischievous grin that lit the hobbit’s features 
as an idea came to Frodo.

	Elrond’s eyes flew open in surprise as he felt Frodo’s soft lips 
kissing his penis.  He looked down and watched as the hobbit pleasured 
him.  Frodo’s long lashes cast shadows over his cheekbones as he closed 
his eyes and slid his lips along the pulsing length of the elf’s shaft.  His 
tongue darted out to delicately trace the crease at the base of the head, and 
Elrond sucked in a sharp breath and barely managed not to moan out loud.  
The hobbit’s small fingers gently scissored back and forth within Elrond, 
relaxing the snug muscles of his entrance.  He added a third finger to the 
penetration and grasped Elrond’s penis with his other hand, to hold the 
organ still.  Elrond blurted something incoherent in elvish as the hobbit 
sucked the top of his penis into his mouth and teased it with his tongue.

	Frodo felt much more confident as Elrond gasped his name and 
arched his back in pleasure.  He was afraid that he would do it wrong, and 
that his fingers were too small to have much of an impact.  He was still 
frustrated, however.  He couldn’t reach that spot that he knew must be 
somewhere, deep inside.  He could only hope that his manhood was long 
enough, for he certainly wasn’t getting anywhere trying to find it this way.  
Despite the fact that he couldn’t reach the gland, Elrond’s soft cries told 
Frodo that he was making up for it with other things.  

	He swirled his tongue round and round over the tiny opening at the 
tip of Elrond’s penis, while sucking firmly on it at the same time.  He 
thrust his fingers harder into the elf’s snug entrance, and Elrond trembled 
and grasped the bedsheets.  

	Elrond could not wait any longer.  He hadn’t felt a lover inside of 
him in years, and his entire body was screaming for it.  “Now, 
Frodo...please,” he groaned.  He was shocked by the ragged, desperate 
quality of his own voice.

	Frodo looked up at Elrond with passion-heavy eyes and removed 
his fingers from within the elf.  He started to stretch out on top of Elrond, 
but then he realized his head would only reach up to Elrond’s chest, which 
would make him feel a bit ridiculous.  Frodo smiled as he remembered a 
position that he had often used with his last lover, and he sat back on his 
heels between Elrond’s thighs and coaxed his lover to spread them wider 
and bend his legs.  Elrond caught on, and he complied with Frodo without 
argument.  Frodo guided his aching cock to the snug entrance to Elrond’s 
body, and he rubbed the tip back and forth across it.

	“You oughtn’t tease me, el hen,” panted Elrond.  He rested his 
hands on Frodo’s hips and urged them forward, making the tip of the 
hobbit’s penis push in, just at the opening.  Frodo bit his lip and trembled 
at the sensation of Elrond’s body gripping the head of his shaft.  He put his 
hands on the elf’s hips to brace himself as he pushed forward, sliding his 
penis in up to the hilt.  Elrond arched his neck and gasped Frodo’s name, 
and the hobbit held still and gulped as he tried to control himself.  

	Once he caught his breath somewhat, Frodo pulled back almost to 
the tip, then thrust again.  He moaned and closed his eyes, and then 
repeated the motions again.  Elrond’s breath hitched slightly, each time 
Frodo’s organ filled him, and the hobbit gasped, “Am I touching it?”

	Elrond nodded wordlessly and squeezed Frodo’s hips as he 
pumped himself in and out.  His lover filled him perfectly.  His hardness 
was just long and thick enough to stretch Elrond without discomfort, and 
he was indeed pushing against his prostate each time he thrust.  Elrond 
bucked his hips in pleasure as Frodo moved one of his hands to the elf’s 
erection and stroked it lovingly.  His fingers were longer than a typical 
hobbit’s, so his thumb was almost able to meet his middle finger around 
the circumference of the hard organ.  He gazed upon Elrond’s delicate, yet 
masculine elvish features, adoring the way his sculpted lips parted with 
pleasure, and the way he bared his elegant neck as he came closer to 
climaxing.

	Frodo hissed through his teeth and closed his eyes, thrusting harder 
and harder.  His groans were hoarse and uneven as he lost what little 
control he possessed.  Elrond let go of the hobbit’s hips and reached up to 
thread his fingers into Frodo’s hair and cup his face.  He stared up at his 
lover with an almost pained expression, his deep blue eyes locking with 
Frodo’s bright ones, and he gasped the hobbit’s name and peaked.  

	Frodo smiled through his own pleasure as the elf’s penis jerked in 
his grasp and released small spurts of pearly fluid.  Frodo gave three more 
hard thrusts and bowed his head, moaning through his teeth as he spilled 
himself within his lover.  Panting with release, they stayed in that position 
for several minutes.  Finally, Frodo carefully withdrew from Elrond’s heat 
and he crawled on top of the elf and lay his head on his chest.  Elrond put 
his arms around Frodo and kissed his damp curls.  “And you were 
worried,” the elf teased breathlessly.

	Frodo chuckled and kissed the smooth chest he lay against.  
“Indeed I was.  Was my performance satisfactory?”

	Elrond replied, “Mmm-hmm.  I look forward to an encore, in fact.”

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

	From that night on, Frodo retired to Elrond’s bedroom each 
evening.  Samwise took it all in stride, still struggling to identify his 
feelings for his master.  He felt such conflicting emotions over the whole 
thing.  On the one hand, he was happy for Frodo, and he wanted him to 
enjoy every moment he was given with the magnificent elven king.  On 
the other hand, Sam was having increasingly frequent and disturbing 
dreams about himself and Frodo.  It was his own fault, really.  If he hadn’t 
snuck outside to Frodo’s window with Pippin that night, he never would 
have witnessed his master making love with Elrond.  Unfortunately, what 
was done was done, and now he dreamed about it every night...only in his 
dream, Sam was in Elrond’s place.

	He couldn’t be near Frodo anymore without being flabbergasted 
into stupidity by the gentlehobbit’s wide, blue eyes.  To make matters 
worse, Sam was certain that Gandalf knew what was going on in his mind.  
The wizard’s grey eyes had a shrewdness about them when he looked at 
Samwise, and the gardener found himself blushing profusely every time 
Gandalf looked at him.  Frodo seemed different around him, too.  
Goodness, could his master have somehow found out that he spied on him 
that night?  Sam didn’t really think so, but Frodo seemed to be a wee bit 
cautious around him, lately.  He was as friendly as ever, but he never 
touched him anymore for longer than a moment.  He used to hug him 
often, or put his arm around his waist as they walked, but he had stopped 
doing all that.

	After two weeks of this odd behavior, Samwise decided that he 
couldn’t take it any more.  He had to know if it was all in his head or if 
mister Frodo’s attitude towards him had really changed.  He and Frodo 
were walking through the gardens together, and Samwise looked around 
carefully to be sure that there was nobody nearby.  Seeing no one, he 
stepped in front of his master and took both his hands in his.  Frodo's blue 
eyes were puzzled as Sam said, “Please sir, can we move off of the path 
and talk in private?  I’ve got somewhat I’ve been meaning to ask you, and 
I don’t want no eavesdroppers listening in.”

	Frodo had been dreading this moment.  He couldn’t be certain of 
course, but he had a pretty fair idea of what it was Samwise wanted to talk 
about.  Reluctantly, he nodded and allowed the gardener to draw him away 
from the path and out of sight.  Once they were safely hidden from prying 
eyes, Sam took a deep breath and looked at Frodo with earnest, brown 
eyes.  “Mister Frodo, I don’t know how to tell you this.  Mayhap I should 
just get it over with and come right out with it.  I...I think you’ve been 
acting different towards me since the day o’ the White Council.  You 
almost act like you’re afraid to touch me, and I don’t know what I did 
wrong.”  His voice was getting thick with emotion, and he had to quickly 
wipe a sleeve across his eyes.

	Feeling wretched, Frodo hugged his friend and said, “Oh no, Sam!  
You’ve done nothing wrong at all!”  He didn’t want to put Sam on the 
spot and make the moment any more awkward than it had to be, so Frodo 
settled for a half-truth.  “I’m sorry that I’ve been behaving oddly towards 
you, my dear friend,” Frodo said, pulling away slightly to look into the 
gardener’s eyes, “I was actually trying to spare you any discomfort.  I 
wasn’t sure how you felt about Elrond and I, and I did not want to make 
you uncomfortable by touching you too often.  I thought it might be 
disturbing for you, knowing the sort of relationship that I am in.  Do you 
understand?”

	Sam snuffled and nodded.  “Aye, I do, sir.  But you don’t have to 
worry about that.  I don’t care who you’re with, as long as you’re happy.  
That’s the truth.”

	Frodo smiled brilliantly and hugged Sam again, resting his head on 
his shoulder.  “Thank you, Sam.  You don’t know how much it means to 
me, to have your support.”  He pulled back again and gazed at the 
gardener with eyes luminous with unshed tears.  “You’ve always been 
there for me.  I do not know what I would do without you.”

	Sam stared into his master’s eyes, and suddenly he could hardly 
breath.  Frodo was too beautiful, and too close.  Sam cupped the back of 
Frodo’s head and crushed his mouth against the smaller hobbit’s.

	Frodo was so startled by the unexpected kiss that all he could do 
for a moment was make a muffled sound of surprise against Sam’s lips.  
The gardener heard a whispering under the edge of his hearing, urging him 
on.  He groaned hungrily and plunged his tongue into Frodo’s mouth, 
holding the smaller hobbit tightly against his body.  Frodo’s shock wore 
off, and he pushed at Sam’s shoulders and tore his mouth away.  “Sam!  
What are you doing?” He cried.

	Samwise released Frodo so suddenly that they both stumbled a bit.  
His breathing was heavy, and he held his hands out wide with his fingers 
spread.  “Oh, mister Frodo...I didn’t mean to...I don’t know what came 
over me...” He fell to his knees and began to weep.

	The ring was hot against Frodo’s skin, and he could hear it 
whispering Sam’s name.  He swallowed hard and knelt beside his friend.  
“Sam, calm down.  It wasn’t you,” he murmured.

	“Yes it was!  I couldn’t help it,” Sam sobbed.

	Frodo put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.  
“No, Sam.  The ring did it.  It aggravated the situation.  It manipulated 
your feelings and twisted them into something else.  Shhh, don’t cry, my 
dear friend.  It’s alright.”  He hugged the gardener and rocked him gently.

	Sam looked into Frodo’s eyes and said, “But those feelings really 
are there, mister Frodo.  It weren’t just the ring!  I have the same feelings 
for you as I do for Rose Cotton.”

	Frodo sighed and ran his fingers through the gardener’s blond 
curls.  “I know, Sam.”

	Sam stared.  “Y-you know?  H-how?”

	Frodo smiled slightly.  “Little things that you have said and done.  
I wasn’t truthful with you when I spoke before.  I HAVE been avoiding 
touching you as often, because I did not want to confuse you any further.”

	Sam’s face became bright red.  “Oh, mister Frodo...how can you 
stand to be around me now, after I went and did that?  I’ve gone and 
ruined your trust in me now!”

	Frodo shook his head and put his fingertips against Sam’s lips to 
shush him.  “No, you haven’t, Sam.  I know you.  Even if you do have 
those sort of feelings for me, you would never have tried to push yourself 
onto me like that, if it weren't for the ring.  Don’t torture yourself!  This 
thing,” he squeezed the ring hard, his knuckles going white, “this thing 
distorts everything that is pure and makes it evil.  I never thought that it 
would have used your feelings in that way!  What was it trying to 
accomplish, I wonder?  Did you feel any need to take the ring from me?”

	Sam calmed somewhat.  “Well, no.  I just wanted to...to...I can’t 
say it, mister Frodo, it’s too embarrassing!”

	Frodo almost smiled.  “It’s alright, Sam.  I think I see the motive 
behind its manipulation of your feelings.  It was trying to make me afraid 
of you.  Trying to break my spirit and make me distrustful of the person 
whom I know I can rely on the most on this journey!”

	Sam frowned at Frodo’s clenched fist, where the ring was held.  
“Well, at least I know what to watch out for.  You’ve got to believe me, 
sir...I know you and Elrond belong together, and I’d never do anything to 
hurt that bond!”

	Frodo let go of the ring and pulled the gardener into his embrace.  
“I know that, Sam.  I have faith that you won’t let it get to you again, now 
that you know what to look out for.”

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

-To be continued



Title: Hidden Strength (15/?)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Rating: PG
Summary: Time has passed in Rivendell, and Frodo has recovered from his 
wounds as well as he will ever be able to.  The scouting parties that left in search 
of news of the enemy's movement have returned, and the time for the Fellowship 
to form and leave Rivendell is coming near.
Disclaimer:  The usual.  All characters and Middle Earth belong to Tolkien, and I 
make no profit from this.


“Hidden Strength”
Part 15

	Time went by, and the hobbits enjoyed their time in Rivendell.  Each of 
them looked at this respite from their quest as a sort of holiday.  Frodo and Sam 
spoke no more of what happened between the two of them, and Samwise found 
that having accepted his own feelings, he was able to obtain a measure of 
peace.  Things were almost back to the way they were before this whole mess 
started.  Merry and Pippin spent a lot of time gambling with the visiting dwarves 
and getting into mischief whenever they could.  Frodo spent every night in 
Elrond’s arms, savoring the time he had with the elven king.  During the day, he 
spent most of his time with Samwise, Merry and Pippin.

	Frodo finally got his first look at Elrond’s sons.  He was able to identify 
them for who they were from the first moment he saw them.  Elladan and Elrohir 
looked so much like Elrond that the hobbit rubbed his eyes when he first saw 
them leading their magnificent horses through the city.  Aside from the fact that 
the twins were roughly a half a head shorter than Elrond, and they wore forest 
green and brown clothing like that of rangers, Frodo might have thought he had 
been hit over the head and was seeing two Elrond’s approaching.  The one with 
the shorter hair caught sight of Frodo staring stupidly at them, and he flashed a 
white smile and waved.  “Ho there, Ringbearer!  Elladan and I have returned, 
with news for our father.  Tell me, where might we find Lord Elrond?”

	Frodo felt a blush rising as he lowered his gaze shyly.  They knew about 
he and Elrond...he could see it in their too-wise eyes.  “I believe that he can be 
found in the house of healing, at this hour,” he said softly as they approached, 
“making decisions with Gandalf about whom is to come with me on my journey.”

	The one with the longer hair, whom Frodo now knew to be Elladan, knelt 
before the hobbit and tilted his head so that he could look into Frodo’s bashful, 
blue eyes.  “You are a rather shy creature to be taking this responsibility,” he said 
mildly, sliding his long fingers beneath Frodo’s chin to force him to lift his head, “I 
wonder if Father might be making a mistake in entrusting you with this burden.”

	THAT made Frodo angry.  Not so much that the arrogant elf had spoken 
the obvious, for he had often wondered himself where Elrond saw this “strength” 
in him.  He was angry at the patronizing way that Elladan spoke of his father’s 
decision.  “Now, see here,” Frodo huffed, sounding for all the world like Samwise 
Gamgee, “perhaps my ability to see this thing through isn’t all that obvious...I 
shan’t disagree with you on that.  However, your father is one of the wisest, most 
insightful people I have ever met, and he has destroyed evils that would have 
made a second’s work of you or I!  So, please show a bit of respect, or do not 
speak to me again!”

	Merry and Pippin were just coming around the corner to meet up with 
Frodo for afternoon tea, and they stopped dead in their tracks upon hearing their 
cousin’s indignant rant.  Frodo had his hands on his hips and was glaring blue 
flames at two people who looked enough like Elrond to confuse the eyes.  Merry 
was ready to rush to Frodo’s defense, figuring that his words might anger the two 
formidable looking elves.

	To the surprise of all three hobbits, Elrohir and Elladan shared a look of 
surprise, and then both of them chuckled behind their hands.  “Peace, good 
hobbit,” Elladan said unsteadily as Frodo continued to glare indignantly at him, “I 
was but testing you.  I see now what our Father sees.  Forgive my rude 
manners.”

	Frodo relaxed a bit and stroked his smooth chin in thought.  “You were 
testing me?  Why, pray tell?  Isn’t the word of Elrond enough for you?”

	Seeing that they had truly angered Frodo, Elrohir patted his horse and 
knelt beside his brother, so that he was eye-level with the hobbit as well.  “It is 
not that we don’t trust our father’s decisions, Master Baggins.  Let us simply say 
that we were both curious, for it wasn’t apparent to us that you were the best 
choice.  I mean no offence by that,” he quickly added when Frodo scowled, “it is 
just that you seem like such a gentle, timid creature by all appearances.  Frankly, 
we weren’t certain that you had the nerve to do this...until now.”

	Frodo still wasn’t certain that this was a compliment, but he nodded 
politely anyways.  Elrond was right...his sons were not like him in personality.  It 
wasn’t that the hobbit really disliked them, but they lacked the grace and 
elegance of speech that their beautiful father possessed.  Despite the greater 
years they had on him, Frodo felt as though he was speaking with a pair of 
tweenagers who hadn’t yet learned that they weren’t gods.  By elvish standards, 
perhaps Elrohir and Elladan were just that; youths.  Perhaps Frodo himself was 
actually more tempered than they were, and so, thinking that, he gave them a 
break.  “No harm done,” he said gracefully, with a slight bow of respect.

	The sons of Elrond were humbled by Frodo’s elegance and lithe beauty, 
while at the same time, they were both amused and impressed with how quickly 
and fiercely the hobbit had leaped to Elrond's defense.  They exchanged another 
look between one another, each thinking the same thing: “If Father hadn’t caught 
his eye, I certainly wouldn’t have minded a bit of affection with this hobbit.”  
Neither of them had any particular preference with gender, or even race...and 
hobbits were as yet still a mystery to them.

	Merry and Pippin finally deemed it safe to approach, and they called out 
a greeting to Frodo  “Oi, Frodo!  We’ve been looking all over for you!  Samwise is 
waiting at one of the gazebos with afternoon tea!” Merry spouted.  Upon reaching 
Frodo, Merry swept his hat off and bowed low to the handsome twins.  “Good 
afternoon to you, sirs.  Meriadoc Brandybuck, at your service.”

	Not to be outdone by his lover, Pippin bowed as well.  “Peregrin Took.  
I’m also at your service!”

	Neither of them noticed Frodo rolling his eyes and shaking his head.  
They were both too concerned with flirting with Elrond’s sons.  Elrohir and 
Elladan smiled at the taken hobbits, both amused and intrigued by them.  Well, 
they weren’t elvish fair, like Master Baggins, but they were charming little fellows.  
Quite attractive, in a cute way.  “A great pleasure,” Elrohir said with a nod.

	“We’re about to have afternoon tea,” Pippin said guilelessly, “You’re both 
welcome to join us.  Sam’s prepared quite a feast!”

	Frodo groaned inwardly and glared at the outrageous Took.  Sometimes, 
he wondered how it was possible that he was related to Pippin and Merry.  He 
could clearly picture the two of them pawing at the elves as they tried to eat.  
Elrond would be horrified!  

	Fortunately for Frodo’s piece of mind, the twins declined.  “Perhaps 
another time,” Elladan said with a hint of regret, “we must find our Father and 
report to him.  Enjoy your meal, friends!”  And then, he and his brother were off 
again, heading towards the house of healing.

	“Ah well,” Merry said in disappointment, “there’s always tomorrow.”

	“You two are incorrigible,” Frodo snapped.

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

	The hobbits were greeted with another surprise upon reaching the 
gazebo where Samwise waited.  This time, it was a more pleasant one.  Aragorn 
was there with Arwen.  The couple sat across from Sam on the picnic blanket 
that the gardener had lain down on the floor of the gazebo.  “Mr. Frodo!” Sam 
waved with a broad smile on his face.

	Frodo returned the smile and wave, pleased that he and Sam were once 
again trusting friends, despite the little mishap with the ring, weeks ago.  “What a 
pleasure to have the two of you join us,” Frodo said to Aragorn and Arwen, taking 
the elven princess’s hand in his to kiss it.

	She laughed in delight.  “Why, thank you, Master Baggins.  Samwise 
spotted the two of us walking along the footpath, and he graciously offered a seat 
to us at his picnic.”

	Frodo frowned, thinking that the floor of a gazebo was no place for a lady 
of Arwen’s stature to sit upon-picnic blanket or no.  “I shall go into one of the 
buildings and retrieve a cushion for you, my lady,” he said.

	Arwen put her hand on his arm to stay him as he began to turn away.  
“There is no need, Master Baggins.  My rump is no more fragile than your own, I 
assure you.”

	Samwise blushed to the roots of his hair and mumbled something, 
looking every which way except at Arwen, and Merry and Pippin laughed 
unabashedly at the lady’s words.  Aragorn grinned at poor Frodo, who stood 
there with his mouth open, at a loss for what to do.  “Have a seat, Frodo.  Let us 
have a relaxing meal.”

	Frodo nodded and bowed deeply to Arwen.  “Your pardon, lady.  I should 
not have made assumptions.”

	She merely smiled up at him serenely, and what her thoughts might have 
been was anyone’s guess.  Samwise quickly poured everyone a cup of elvish 
mead to go with the meal, and then he passed out carved wooden plates and 
eating utensils.  “Well now, we’ve got baked ham, assorted cheeses, roasted 
tomatoes, fresh-baked bread, and my very own potato and mushroom soup,” he 
said as he passed out small bowls to go with the plates, “everyone help 
yourselves to whatever you want...there’s plenty to go around!”

	Frodo inhaled the aroma of the food deeply, realizing how hungry he 
was.  “Ah, Sam lad...you’ve outdone yourself.  This is wonderful!”

	“Less talk, more eat!” Pippin muttered around a mouthful of bread.  Little 
bits flew out of his mouth as he spoke.  “Ouch!  Why’d you smack me, Merry?”

	Embarrassed by Pippin’s rude manners in front of Arwen, Merry 
whispered, “You know better than that, Pip!  For Elbereth’s sake, stop eating like 
a troll!”

	Arwen chuckled quietly and shared a smile with Aragorn.  These hobbits, 
they could be just like children, sometimes.  It had been far too long since 
anyone in Rivendell had enjoyed the privilege of being in the company of such 
innocence.  To cover up his cousin’s crude behavior, Frodo said, “Did you find 
anything interesting in your travels, Aragorn?”

	He could have slapped himself, for bringing up the ranger’s search 
reminded everyone present of what it was he had been scouting for.  A hush fell 
over the group, like a blanket of doom settling over their shoulders.  “I...I should 
not have asked,” Frodo said faintly, his blue eyes shadowed as his hand 
instinctively reached up to clasp the ring that hung around his neck.

	Aragorn’s grey eyes followed the motion and narrowed.  “Don’t worry 
yourself, Frodo.  You were only thinking practically,” he said softly.  “I traveled 
with the Rangers to the lands down the Greyflood.  We went as far as Tharbad.  
We found no trace of the Ringwraiths, save for the remains of the beasts they 
rode and a tattered cloak in the ford.  We can only assume that they are 
scattered for the time being, and will need new mounts.  This should give us a bit 
of time.”

	“You mean, the water didn’t destroy them?” Frodo asked with wide eyes.  
He had already been told that they couldn’t be killed so easily, but oh, he had 
hoped.  

	Aragorn shook his head.  “I am sorry Frodo, but no.  You may at least 
take heart in the knowledge that they aren’t anywhere in the North.  The riders 
have looked far and wide for any trace of them, and found naught.  We are safe 
from them for a time, I think.”

	Frodo glanced at Samwise and found the same misgivings he felt 
mirrored in his friend’s eyes.  “Well, that’s something, at least,” he tried to say 
cheerfully.  It came out dull and leaden, like the lump that now rested in his 
stomach and ruined his appetite.

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

-To be continued


	
Title: Hidden Strength (16/17)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Summary: The day has finally come for Frodo and the Fellowship to leave Rivendell and 
continue their dangerous journey.  Elrond fights an inner battle to let him go.
Disclaimer:  All characters and Middle Earth are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien.  I make 
no profit from my fanfiction, and do it expressly for entertainment purposes only.


“Hidden Strength”
Part 16

	“You are very quiet tonight,” Frodo murmured as he kissed Elrond’s smooth 
chest.  He was lying atop his lover, his legs straddled over the elf’s hips comfortably.  
They were both nude, and the afterglow of their lovemaking made their pale skin glisten 
in the lamplight.  Elrond ran his fingers through Frodo’s soft curls and smiled at him, but 
he said nothing.  “It’s almost time, isn’t it?” Frodo guessed, a frown turning his delicate 
lips.

	“Let us not think of it tonight, Frodo,” Elrond whispered, looking into the 
hobbit’s eyes, “you already know the answer.  I would rather spend tonight loving you.”

	Frodo bit his lip and felt a lump well in his throat, but he nodded in agreement.  
Elrond was right, as always.  Talking about it was useless, for it would only bring 
unanswerable questions about the future to the surface, and it would make them both 
unhappy.  He went back to kissing Elrond’s silken skin, concentrating on the feel of his 
lover’s body and the sound of his gentle sighs of pleasure.  Frodo felt Elrond’s penis 
hardening against the cleft of his buttocks, and he couldn’t stop the mischievous smile 
that lit his features as he turned his blue gaze up at the elf’s.  “Already?” he murmured.

	Elrond chuckled, making the hobbit atop him rock and bounce with the 
movements of his chest and abdomen.  “Indeed.  You do elicit a response in me so very 
quickly, El Hen.  What do you intend to do about it?”

	Frodo smiled and did not answer with words.  He was already prepared for 
Elrond from their earlier lovemaking, so he sat up and raised his small body, grasping 
Elrond’s stiff length in his slender hand.  Elrond closed his eyes and moaned as Frodo 
positioned himself over his erection and slowly slid down onto it.  The hobbit parted his 
lips and let his breath out in a slow exhale as he filled himself with Elrond’s hardness.  
Once he was impaled as deeply as he could be, Frodo resumed his original position, 
resting his chest and stomach against Elrond’s torso.  He lay his cheek against the elf’s 
chest and caressed his nipples with his fingertips as he began to move his hips slowly.

	Elrond’s eyes rolled and then closed in exquisite delight.  This was a new way of 
doing things that took him a bit by surprise, and the sensuality of the slow, gently 
movements was breathtaking.  “Ai, Frodo,” he sighed, caressing the hobbit’s back with 
his fingertips.  The hobbit’s organ stirred and sprung to life, throbbing like a separate 
entity between their bodies as he made love to Elrond.  For all of Frodo’s submissive 
nature in the bedroom, he always managed to be the one in control.  It still flabbergasted 
Elrond, that this young, seemingly fragile being could make him feel so utterly helpless.

	Frodo kissed Elrond’s skin again and again, rubbing his lips back and forth 
across it and tickling it with his quickening breath.  He made himself keep his movements 
slow and deliberate, biting his lip at the feel of Elrond’s slick, hard manhood pushing in 
and out of him an inch at a time.  He wished that his arms were longer, so that he could 
reach behind himself and fondle the elf’s scrotum, but there was no help for it, and 
Elrond seemed to be enjoying things well enough as it was.  

	They spoke no words to one another, content to quietly explore the sensations 
that they shared through the intimate act.  Elrond began to clench his teeth as the pleasure 
built and built, but never seemed to reach a peak.  His hands trembled and his breath 
hitched as he fought for control, and Frodo rose up slowly and furrowed his brows.  
Elrond stared up at his lover as the hobbit’s expression began to tense up.  Delicate lips 
parted, eyelids fluttering, throat working, Frodo seemed to be on the very edge of climax.

	“Enough,” Elrond groaned huskily, and he cupped Frodo’s hips and sat up, then 
rolled over, putting the hobbit beneath him.  Somehow, he managed not to slip out of 
Frodo’s tight heat as he changed their position, and he thrust deeply and firmly into him, 
making the hobbit cry out sharply.  He did it again, and again, grunting Frodo’s name as 
he lost all sense of control.

	Frodo spread his thighs wider and tangled his fingers into Elrond’s ebony hair as 
the elf continued the smooth, hard thrusts.  Despite his excitement and desperation to 
bring them both to bliss, Elrond remained enough in control of himself to monitor 
Frodo’s responses so that he would know if he were pushing too hard.  In the time they 
had spent together as lovers, the elven king had learned that Frodo was capable of taking 
much more by way of lovemaking than he had thought.  He had learned to read his small 
partner’s cries and determine when he was getting close to becoming too rough with him.  
He kissed the tip of Frodo’s nose, and then his parted, gasping mouth, sliding his tongue 
in delicately.  The gentle thrust of Elrond’s smooth tongue sent Frodo over the brink, and 
he groaned quite loudly into his lover’s mouth as his seed came. 

	Elrond panted against Frodo’s lips and held his own orgasm at bay.  Sometimes, 
he wished that he could remain within Frodo’s gripping heat all night long, but that 
wasn’t likely to be comfortable for the hobbit, and so Elrond always tried to extend the 
length of time they spent making love.  Inevitably, the pleasure became too great for him 
to hold it off any longer, and he gasped an endearment in ancient elvish and closed his 
eyes as he climaxed within the hobbit. 

	“Nin Meleth,”(1) Elrond sighed as he kissed Frodo tenderly.  The hobbit was 
smiling gently up at him, breathing heavily from the experience.  In that moment, Elrond 
felt a great surge of weakness.  In that moment, nothing mattered to him more than 
keeping Frodo safe.  He very nearly lost himself and demanded that Frodo stay here with 
him.  They could find another to bear the ring to Mordor.  This beautiful, bright creature 
beneath him was more precious than all the races on middle earth.  “Frodo, I-“ Elrond 
whispered breathlessly.  

	The sapphire eyes gazed serenely back up at him, blinking slowly.  When 
Elrond hesitated, Frodo seemed to sense the struggle within him.  “I know,” the hobbit 
whispered, reaching up to trace Elrond’s lips with his fingers, “I feel the same.”

	Elrond closed his eyes and kissed Frodo’s fingers, feeling his resolve return 
along with the pain of acceptance.  He nodded slowly, confidant that he and Frodo both 
knew exactly what each other was feeling.  For a long time, they remained that way, until 
Elrond’s arms began to cramp from the strain of holding his weight off of Frodo’s body.  
Elrond pulled his sated organ out of the hobbit and lay down beside him, and Frodo 
cuddled close and rested his cheek against the elf’s chest.  The hobbit’s bright eyes closed 
sleepily as Elrond’s long fingers stroked his hair, and the sound of the elf’s heartbeat 
thrumming against his ear guided Frodo into his dreams.

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


	Leaving Elrond’s bed and preparing to meet up with everyone the next morning 
was difficult for Frodo.  He couldn’t keep his eyes off of his lover as he dressed, and 
Elrond was having the same problem.  When they were both dressed and groomed, they 
stood before each other silently for a few moments.  “It is time,” Elrond finally 
whispered.

	Frodo lowered his gaze and stared at the embroidered carpet on the floor.  “Yes.  
I suppose there is no use delaying it.”

	Elrond came to his knees before the hobbit and took him into his arms, holding 
him tightly.  Frodo was shivering.  Rubbing his back, Elrond said; “be brave, El Hen.  
This is only the beginning of your trials.”  He closed his dark eyes and inhaled the 
hobbit’s scent, vowing to keep it with him for the rest of his days.  Frodo didn’t respond 
verbally, but he held onto Elrond tightly and rubbed his soft cheek against his.

	They broke the embrace regretfully, and Frodo closed his eyes and gripped the 
ring that hung around his neck as he followed his lover out the door.  *I must do this, * 
the hobbit thought as he reminded himself of Middle Earth’s peril.  All free folk of this 
world would fight their own battles against the evil of Mordor.  He knew that he would 
not be the only one stepping into peril.  The knowledge that while he was setting out to 
his task, others would be preparing for war, was a strange comfort to Frodo.  It reminded 
him that he was not alone in his fight.  In fact, he almost felt as if the coming war would 
act as a decoy, to draw the dark forces away from him so that he and his companions 
could creep into the blackened lands.  He prayed for strength as he walked down the halls 
of Elrond’s house beside the elven king.  Who would come with him?  Samwise was 
obviously going to be there, thank goodness.  Gandalf would be there as well, and that 
gave Frodo the courage to continue walking instead of collapsing in a weeping heap on 
the floor.

	They returned to the council, where everyone was already waiting for them.  
Frodo’s eyes lit up with hope as he saw Merry and Pippin standing beside Samwise (they 
had been offered chairs, of course, but the hobbits were too excited and nervous to sit 
down).  Elrond guided Frodo to a seat and looked down at him gravely.  “It has been 
decided.  After long debate, the Fellowship of the Ring has been chosen.”  

	The gathered assembly waited quietly for Elrond to continue, and Frodo fidgeted 
with nervous energy.  Why couldn’t his lover have simply told him last night?  Would 
letting him know who would journey with him have been so hard?  Looking up into 
Elrond’s eyes, the hobbit saw how pained the elf was.  No, he couldn’t bring himself to 
discuss it at all, Frodo realized.  The decision must have been finalized yesterday, before 
the two of them retired to the bedroom.  His lover hadn’t told him the outcome because of 
the pain that it was causing him to see him go.  For a moment, it seemed that Elrond was 
the fragile one.  Frodo was struck by a sudden urge to protect the elf king.  He had 
watched his wife leave Middle Earth to heal, and now he had to watch Frodo leave 
Rivendell, possibly never to return.  It must pain him greatly.

	Elrond composed himself and said evenly; “For his wisdom, Gandalf the Grey.  
For his loyalty, Samwise Gamgee, of the Shire.  Representing the dwarves will be Gimli, 
son of Gloin.  Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood shall represent the elves, and for Men, 
Boromir of Gondor and Aragorn of the Dunadan.”  He paused and gazed upon Merry and 
Pippin, who looked as though they were both ready to shout in frustration.  A soft smile 
graced Elrond’s lips as he finished, “And for the last two, we shall trust a friendship.  
Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Peregrin Took shall accompany the Ringbearer.  After all, 
hobbits must ‘stick together’, mustn’t they?”

	Merry and Pippin looked at each other with joy spreading on their impish 
features, and they hooted happily and hugged each other, then Frodo and Sam.  A weight 
lifted from Frodo’s heart as he looked at those who would be coming with him.  It was a 
good choice.  All save one.  He felt a twinge of unease as his eyes settled on Boromir.  
That the man was courageous and skilled was not a question in Frodo’s eyes.  There was 
a spiritual frailty about Boromir that worried him, a desperate energy that threatened to 
consume the son of Gondor.  Frodo’s eyes met Elrond’s briefly, and the elf king nodded, 
as if understanding what was on the hobbit’s mind.  For good or ill, Elrond believed that 
Boromir should go with them.  Frodo could not understand it, but he trusted his lover.

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

	They were waiting at the gates of Rivendell.  Elrond gave his blessings to each 
of them, speaking elegant, inspiring words that Frodo could barely hear over the 
pounding of his heart.  The hobbit noticed the aching look that Arwen had in her eyes, 
though her father could not see it, for she was standing behind him.  Frodo followed her 
gaze to Aragorn, who stared back at her with a promise on his features.  Oh, this was so 
hard!  It didn’t gladden Frodo to know that he was not the only member of the Fellowship 
walking away from someone he was in love with.  If he could have spared the noble 
ranger the ache that he was feeling, he would have done it gladly.  

	Frodo wished vehemently that they weren’t surrounded by so many people as 
Elrond approached him.  He wanted to kiss the elf king, one last time.  Elrond knelt 
before the hobbit and placed his long hands on his shoulders, gazing deeply into his eyes.  
“Farewell, Frodo,” he whispered, “I shall speak your name in my prayers each night, and 
I shall eagerly await your return.  May your road be as safe as possible.”  

	Frodo closed his eyes and fought the tears that built up behind his lids.  Elrond’s 
fingers threaded into the hobbit’s springy curls, and slowly, the elf king leaned forward 
and pressed his lips against Frodo’s.  It was not a proper farewell in the presence of so 
many, but Elrond had no intention of letting Frodo go without feeling his lips against his 
one last time.  Frodo returned the kiss gently, feeling wetness drip down his cheeks.

	Samwise looked around uncomfortably, not certain how he should be reacting to 
the public display of affection.  He noticed that Boromir and Gimli had both raised their 
eyebrows in surprise and confusion, but the rest of the gathering didn’t seem to care 
much.  Legolas wore a soft smile on his fair features, Gandalf waited patiently, Merry 
and Pippin sighed and rested their heads together, and Aragorn was too focused on 
sending his love to Arwen through his eyes.  The elves weren’t the least put out by their 
leader’s farewell kiss.

	Elrond broke the kiss and whispered one last endearment to Frodo, and then he 
stood up and backed away.  “May the blessings of all free folk of Middle Earth go with 
you.” he murmured.  Frodo stared at him for a moment longer, and then he turned and 
walked towards the gate. 

	His traveling companions parted respectfully for him to allow him to take the 
lead.  Frodo took a deep breath and made the first step outside of Rivendell’s protective 
gate.  Then he stopped, realizing with some mortification that he had no idea which way 
to turn.  Gandalf’s gnarled hand rested supportively on the hobbit’s shoulder, and Frodo 
whispered, “Gandalf!  Mordor, is it left or right?”

	“Left,” came the mumbled reply.

	Elrond watched them file out of his city, and he sighed deeply.  Frodo’s small 
form was soon swallowed up by the rest of the Fellowship as they moved to follow him.  
Elrond was a tad surprised when his daughter came up beside him and put her arm around 
his waist.  Glad that she was no longer angry with him for the way he had lectured her the 
other night on the dangers of loving Aragorn, he returned the half-embrace thankfully.  
“Both of our beloved mortals are journeying into danger,” Arwen whispered.

	Elrond nodded quietly and squeezed her.  He had been selfish and hypocritical, 
he realized.  The entire time he was trying to convince her to change her mind about 
Aragorn, he himself had been bedding a mortal.  “I am an old fool,” he whispered 
guiltily.

	Arwen smiled softly and nodded in agreement.

(1.) My love

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

-To be continued in Epilogue


Title: Hidden strength (17/17)
Author: Xenobia (xarachnia@hotmail.com)
Pairing(s): Frodo/Elrond
Rating: PG
Summary: The final chapter and Epilogue to Hidden Strength.  Frodo's 
journey has ended, and he must now choose between the Shire and a new 
life in Valinor with Elrond.
Disclaimer:  Middle Earth and all of the characters belong to Tolkien.  No 
profit is made from this or any other fanfics I write.
Warning: Alternate ending


“Hidden Strength”
Part 17: Epilogue

	The days that followed Frodo’s departure from Rivendell were 
filled with tests, for all of middle earth as well as the ring bearer.  On 
March 3rd, Elrond received news from Galadriel concerning the progress 
of the Fellowship.  His heart sank when he discovered that Boromir had 
perished and the fellowship was broken.  Frodo and Sam had left the 
others, seemingly with the purpose of going to Mordor by themselves, and 
Merry and Pippin were missing.  Of Aragorn, the only news that Galadriel 
could provide was that he was tracking Merry and Pippin with the help of 
Legolas and Gimli.  These events happened sometime in the latter half of 
February, and so Elrond worried constantly.  By now, a multitude of 
things might have happened to Frodo or any of the others.  His Star Child 
could be dead, and the ring could by lying somewhere in Emyn Muil. 

	Something within the elven king’s heart cried out for him to take 
action, but he quelled the instinctive response to the danger his lover was 
in and forced himself to concentrate on the affairs of his people.  The 
alliance between Men and Elves was over, and there was much to do.  He 
could not afford to rush off on a whim to try and seek Frodo out.  Sighing 
deeply, Elrond lit the fireplace in his room, to ward off the chill that had 
come with the evening.  It was unusual for it to be this cold, even in 
February.  Was the chill due to the temperature in the air, or the cold that 
was settling around his heart and in his bones?

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

March 7, 3019

	“Mr. Frodo, we can’t trust this Faramir fellow,” whispered 
Samwise as he settled down to sleep beside his Master.  Though the Man 
had been kind to them and given them much needed food, water and 
shelter, he was still Boromir’s brother.  Sam was still beating himself up 
over blurting out that Frodo carried the enemy’s Ring, and though Faramir 
withdrew after the hobbits convinced him of the worthiness of their cause, 
the gardener was loath to trust him so soon.  He had learned a hard, bitter 
lesson during their travels.  There was simply no way of knowing whom 
you could put your trust into, and Sam was beginning to view everyone 
except dear Frodo as a threat.

	“Go to sleep, Sam,” Frodo murmured tiredly, reaching out to put 
his arm around the gardener, “I am not foolish enough to put total faith in 
him, but there’s nothing more we can do about it, for now.  We cannot 
leave except by his good graces, so I suggest you calm down and try to be 
a bit friendlier to him.  The quest will fail if he refuses to let us go.”

	Sam hugged Frodo close, as had become his custom since the two 
of them set out on their own.  It was an instinctive gesture of protection 
that he at first feared would make his Master uncomfortable, given Sam’s 
feelings for him.  Frodo, however, was as trusting as a child in the 
gardener’s arms, having complete faith in his friend to protect him and 
keep him warm.  It made Sam’s heart swell to know that Frodo trusted 
him not to try anything silly.  Of course, Sam always placed a kiss on 
Frodo’s head before going to sleep, but Frodo didn’t mind that, either.  He 
always merely smiled and cuddled closer, whispering a goodnight.

	A few feet away, Faramir watched the two hobbits snuggle 
together tightly beneath their bedrolls, and he wondered if all hobbits were 
so affectionate towards one another.  From the information he had 
gathered, these two had been through so much together, it was no wonder 
they hugged each other close at night.  Faramir heaved a sigh and rubbed 
his tired eyes.  The only question left was what he should do with them.  
He knew what his father would say.  Bring the ring to him and keep the 
halflings under close guard.  As much as his upbringing told him to do just 
that, Faramir’s heart felt that it was wrong.  The ring had destroyed his 
brother as surely as the arrows that pierced his breast, and Faramir sensed 
that it would do the same to any who attempted to use it.  What would 
happen to Middle Earth, if Faramir did as his upbringing demanded?  

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

	Samwise was completely against Frodo’s pleas to spare Gollum’s 
life.  When Faramir woke them and asked them to identify the creature, 
the first thing that Sam wanted to say was; “Shoot him!  That stinker’s 
nothin’ but trouble!”

	Frodo must have seen Sam’s expression and guessed what was 
going through his head, for the ringbearer pulled Sam close and 
whispered, “We still need him, Sam.  I don’t like it any more than you do, 
but we cannot find our way without his help!”

	Sam snapped his mouth shut and grimaced, realizing that his 
Master was right.  He protested when Frodo offered himself as a martyr 
for the creature.  Sam chewed his nails (which were already down to the 
quick in the first place) as Frodo slowly crept down to retrieve Gollum.  
One false move, and Faramir’s men would shoot both of them!  Luckily, 
the ring bearer managed to distract Gollum long enough for Anborn to 
capture him...though the hobbit hadn’t intended for it to go that way.  He 
followed miserably as the Men brought the captive creature back, and later 
explained to Samwise that it had felt like treachery.  He had intended to 
coax Gollum to follow him back, not to deceive him and stand by while 
they trussed him up with rope.  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Frodo,” 
Sam said comfortingly, “you didn’t ask them to do that.  Anyways, you’re 
forgettin’ who Gollum is.  Treachery is his bread and butter.  A little 
turnabout might teach him a lesson.”

	Frodo sighed and shook his head.  It seemed like everything he did 
lately was surrounded with lies and deceit, and Sam didn’t understand how 
that didn’t make him much better than Gollum.  After drilling Gollum and 
listening to Frodo’s pleas to release the creature, Faramir reluctantly 
agreed and told Gollum that he would surrender him to Frodo.  Frodo then 
reminded Faramir that he hadn’t yet made a decision concerning the 
hobbits.  He was as polite about it as he could be, yet Faramir sensed the 
desperate urgency within Frodo as he questioned what was to become of 
them.  Faramir threw caution into the wind, convinced that it was best to 
allow the three of them to continue their journey.  He had felt the ring’s 
malevolent pull, and keeping Frodo around for much longer might prove 
disastrous.  He announced that Frodo and Sam were free to go, and so long 
as Frodo vouched for Gollum, he was free as well.  He reminded Gollum 
that once they were gone, he would be shot on sight if he was ever seen 
near the borders again.

	They rested up for another day, and Faramir provided them with 
provisions and new walking staves to help them in their travels.  He also 
offered his advice while his men went to fetch Gollum from the room they 
kept him in.  "I know that you have little choice but to trust this creature, 
Frodo,” he whispered as he knelt before the hobbits, “and I don’t pretend 
to know why.  I would council that you always be on your guard around 
him, however.  You say that he is not entirely wicked, and I believe you 
are sincere about that, but deception can also come in the form of pity.  Do 
not let yours overtake your good judgement, little friend.”

	Frodo nodded and dared to put his hand on the Man’s shoulder in a 
friendly gesture.  “I understand.  Believe me, Samwise here has enough 
mistrust for the both of us.”  He grinned at his servant, and the gardener 
harrumphed and nodded empathetically. 

	Faramir laughed.  “I wish that I had more time to learn about you 
and your people.  You seem almost as children to me, yet in some ways 
you are wiser than the eldest among my own people.  Fare well, hobbit 
friends.  I wish you a safe journey, or at least as safe a journey as one can 
expect, considering where you are going.”

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

March 14th, 3019

	“I’m with you, Frodo me dear!”

	The darkness lifted slightly, and Frodo could make out the 
aggrieved features of his friend.  His mind was blurred with confusion and 
pain, and Frodo wondered where he was and how he had ended up naked 
atop a heap of filthy rags.  It came back to him slowly.  Running from 
Shelob’s lair, feeling the swift sting of pain in his shoulder, and waking up 
to find orcs pawing at him and tearing his clothing off to search through it.  
He shuddered at the memory of the things they promised to do with him 
when the “master” declared that he was of no more use.

	“Ah, Sam...was that you singing?  I thought it was a dream, or that 
I was already dead.  How did you find me?”

	Sam held a waterskin to Frodo’s parched lips and encouraged him 
to drink from it.  “It was a stroke of luck.  If you hadn’t answered my 
song, I don’t think I would have thought to look here.  Can you stand?”

	Frodo tried, with Sam’s help.  His legs felt like water, but he didn’t 
topple.  “Yes, I think I can walk, Sam.  It’s useless, though, because 
they’ve taken everything that I had!  Everything!”

	Sam slowly pulled the ring out from beneath his shirt and held it 
aloft a bit, dangling on the chain.  “I’m sorry, sir.  I thought you were 
dead, you see, and I didn’t want them getting their paws on it.  I was going 
to take it to the crack of doom myself, or die trying.  Then I overheard 
them talking about that spider’s poisons and saying you weren’t dead, and 
I couldn’t leave you!”

	“Give it to me,” Frodo said, blue eyes dilated in the dim light.  
There was a fey sparkle in those wide eyes, and Sam hesitated.  “It’s mine!  
Give it to me, thief!” Frodo said in a parched howl.

	With shaking hands, Samwise pulled the chain off of his neck and 
hastily handed it over to his Master.  Once the ring was again in his 
possession, Frodo calmed, and he came back to himself and realized what 
he had just said.  “Oh, Sam!  Forgive me, this cursed thing puts the most 
evil thoughts in my mind!”

	“It’s alright, Mr. Frodo,” Sam soothed, “I understand.  I didn’t 
even want to let it go, and I ain’t been carrying it for long!  It wasn’t you 
saying those horrible things, sir.”  He blushed and averted his eyes as he 
spoke, for the chain and ring that Frodo slipped over his head were the 
only items on his body.  His flesh was feverishly pink, and the pale scar 
from the Nazgul blade was visible even in the darkness, and there was 
now a whip wheal snaking across his hip and back, but despite all this, he 
was beautiful.  “Here, let me put my cloak around you,” Sam said gruffly, 
feeling horrible for admiring Frodo’s form in this crucial time.

	“Thank you, Sam.  I’m feeling a bit stronger now,” Frodo said 
softly.  Noticing the shrill alarms and cries echoing through the tower, the 
ring bearer winced and leaned against his friend.  “However are we to get 
out of here?”  He wondered aloud.

	Sam already had a plan for that.  There were bodies of the smaller 
breed of orc lying everywhere.  “We’ll disguise ourselves and keep our 
heads down.  If luck is with us, we’ll be out of here and on our way to 
finish our quest in no time at all.”

	Frodo sighed.  “Luck.  It seems our luck always runs out at the 
most inopportune times, but if you think there’s a hope for us, I’ll follow.”

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

	In the end, it wasn’t actually Frodo or Sam that finished what they 
set out to do.  Just as they reached the crack of doom, Frodo’s resolve 
wavered and his will finally broke.  A heartbroken Samwise watched in 
despair as his beloved Master announced that he was claiming the ring for 
himself.  All hope had fled, and in that moment, Samwise Gamgee 
contemplated doing the unthinkable.  He thought of sacrificing his dear 
Frodo, and not to save Middle Earth.  He wanted to save Frodo from the 
ring, and his body was tensing up to pounce on his Master and send them 
both falling to their doom with the ring.  Fate stepped in and chose a 
different path for them both, however.  Frodo slipped the ring on, and 
Sam’s chance was gone.  Yet Gollum leapt out of the shadows and 
knocked Sam down.  When the gardener lifted his dizzy head, he saw the 
creature grappling with thin air, and he watched in horror as Gollum bit 
down hard and blood sprayed from mid-air.

	Everything seemed to happen at once, then.  Frodo appeared with a 
cry of agony, and as he fell to the ground and rolled back and forth, 
clutching his hand, Samwise crawled to him to help.  The loyal gardener 
forgave Frodo for his weakness in that instant, and he cradled his Master’s 
sobbing form and watched with him as Gollum did a disjointed victory 
dance.  Both hobbits had just enough coherent thought to be amazed when 
the creature lost his footing in his excitement and fell into the crack, 
screaming “Preciouss!” as he went to his doom.  It was over.  The ring 
was destroyed.  Samwise could instantly feel the change in his Master, as 
if he was visibly relieved of a heavy burden.  They didn’t have the 
strength or will to celebrate, though, for the mountain was rumbling and 
their deaths were certain.

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

	“Lord Elrond!  This is unexpected,” Aragorn said with a frown.  
Elrond had come riding up with a small band of elves, just as chaos broke 
loose on the battle fields and the orcish armies seemed to lose all focus.  

	“I must see this to its end,” Elrond said, his dark eyes scanning the 
ominous peak of Mount Doom, “even if I am too late to lend my support 
in the war, I must know the outcome.”

	Aragorn raised an eyebrow at the elf king, frankly shocked by this 
anxious behavior from one who was always determined to do things 
slowly and methodically.  “We have heard no word of Frodo, but I can tell 
you that he was successful with his quest.  The black hand of Sauron 
reached out for a moment, in despair, and then it vanished.  His forces are 
scattered and leaderless.”

	Elrond nodded, but did not smile.  Just how was Frodo successful?  
He had told Samwise to protect the ring bearer, from himself, if needed.  
What if Frodo lost control at the end and Sam had to choose between his 
friend and the world?  He knew that of all the Fellowship, only the gentle 
gardener had the strength to support Frodo unquestioningly.  Elrond 
stayed tense and watchful, illogically hoping to see two small figures 
scaling their way down the mountain, away from the fire and ash that grew 
ever more furious.  Was his beloved no more?

	A cry from Gandalf cut through his reverie.  “The Eagles!  The 
Eagles have come!”

	Elrond watched the breathtaking scene as the mighty ruler of 
Eagles and his followers helped to finish the battle.  He sent his own 
warriors in to aid, but in truth there was no longer a need for it.  When all 
was cleared, the king of Eagles landed before Gandalf, and the two of 
them spoke in the avian tongue.  Elrond felt a tingle pass down his spine, 
sensing that what Gandalf said to the great bird had something to do with 
Frodo.  Then the wizard climbed onto Gwaihir’s back, and the pair flew 
off towards the peak of Mount Doom, with another great eagle, Landroval, 
following.

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

	Elrond was a dignified Lord, but when he saw the Eagle gently 
lower the bodies of two small hobbits to the ground, he nearly shouted in 
bitter grief.  His vision blurred, and he dismounted his horse and rushed to 
Frodo’s side.  Reaching out slowly, he smoothed the dark curls away from 
the hobbit’s face.  Frodo was gaunter than he remembered, and there were 
dark circles around his eyes.  

	Gandalf landed and dismounted from Gwaihir’s back, bowing 
deeply to the eagle and thanking him.  He then saw the raw grief etched in 
Elrond’s face and realized that the elf’s emotions were keeping him from 
realizing that Frodo was not dead.  “He yet lives, Lord Elrond.  They both 
do.  Their breathing is very shallow, for they have inhaled the poisonous 
fumes of Mount Doom.”

	Elrond wasted no time.  He gathered Frodo’s limp body into his 
arms and said to Aragorn, “If you are willing, I would welcome your help.  
I must help them both to expel the poisons from their lungs and breath 
properly.”

	“Of course,” Aragorn said quietly, and he bent to pick up Samwise.  
“I have no Athelas, but I have brought with me other herbs that will 
suffice to clean the infection from their wounds.  My tent is near, if you 
will follow.”

	Together, they hurried to Aragorn’s tent with their precious 
burdens, ignoring the inquiring looks that people gave them as they 
passed.

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

	Elrond was alone with Frodo, bathing the dirt and ash from his 
body so that he could clean his wounds more efficiently.  He had already 
cleared both hobbits’ lungs of poisons and worked his healing to help 
them recover quickly, but he needed this time to dote on his lover.  He 
gently set Frodo’s bandaged hand aside and sponged the hobbit’s thin 
torso and stomach off.  “I thought that my last vision of you would be of 
you lying still and cold on the ground, El Hen,” Elrond whispered as he 
cleaned the pale flesh with utmost care.  If Frodo could not hear his words, 
it didn’t matter.  He needed to speak them.  Frodo’s many wounds and his 
gauntness made his fragile beauty even more apparent, rather than take 
away from it.  The tragedy of the suffering that this gentle creature had 
endured was marked forever on his small form, and Elrond found his eyes 
welling with tears again.

	“Ai, Frodo,” he murmured, caressing the hobbit’s cheek with his 
fingertips, “I have not wept so easily since Celebrian left to heal in 
Valinor.  Would it surprise you, I wonder, to know that this elven king 
whom you find so heroic is reduced to a weeping mortal by the sight of 
you?  I think that it would.  If only you would open your azure eyes and 
smile at me.”  He sighed heavily and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on 
Frodo’s dry lips, and then he covered the hobbit’s nudity with the blankets 
and watched over him like a hawk.

	They moved to Ithilien, and Frodo and Sam slept through the entire 
thing.  It wasn’t until the 8th of April (or 14th of the New Year to Men) that 
Frodo woke up.  It was early morning, and he was tossing restlessly and 
mumbling nightmarish things about his experiences.  Elrond came out of 
his light trance and rushed to his side, stroking his hair soothingly as the 
hobbit cried out and moaned.  

	Frodo struggled against the hands that held him down, feeling 
terror wash over him.  He wasn’t dead yet, and somehow an orc or some 
other creature in Sauron’s army had found them!  “Sam!  Run!” he cried, 
hoping that his friend was even alive to hear his warning.

	“The darkness has been defeated, Frodo!  Awake now,” called a 
familiar, beautiful voice.

	Frodo sat up, gasping as his eyes flew open and searched his 
surroundings.  Elrond was beside him, holding him loosely and gazing 
down at him with mixed concern and love.  “You are really here?  Oh!  I 
am alive!” Gasped Frodo, touching himself frantically as if to make 
certain of the fact.  “Sam...is Sam all right?”

	“Shhh,” whispered Elrond with a smile, “Samwise is just fine.  He 
is sleeping in the bed beside yours, yet if you continue yelling, you will 
wake him up.”

	Frodo closed his eyes in relief, and his small form trembled.  “I 
thought that we had been captured again,” he whispered, falling into 
Elrond’s arms weakly and clutching at his shirt, “I can’t tell you how 
wonderful it is to have you here.  I thought that even if I lived through all 
this, I would surely never see you again.  In fact, that was the thought that 
drove me to despair and caused me to fail, in the end.  As much as your 
love comforted me on my journey, it also made what I must do all the 
more bitter.  I never dreamed that I would look upon you again!”  He 
began to weep, but he was so dehydrated that no tears would come.

	Elrond hugged Frodo as tightly as he dared and kissed the crown of 
his head, rocking him.  “There now, Frodo...I am here and you have won 
your battle.  What is most important now is that you replenish the moisture 
that your body has lost, and that you rest.  Do you feel that you could eat?”

	Frodo shook his head, nausea still cramping his gut.  “No, not right 
away.  I feel that I could drink a river dry, however.”

	Elrond smiled and kept one arm around Frodo as he reached across 
and poured some water from a nearby pitcher into a wooden cup, and then 
he held the cup to the hobbit’s lips.  “Not too quickly, El Hen,” the elf 
cautioned as Frodo gulped the water desperately, “try to sip it, at first.  
There is plenty where this came from.”

	Frodo gave a shuddering sigh and obeyed his lover, sipping at the 
cool water as slowly as his thirst would allow.  He drained three full cups 
of it before he was finally satisfied, and he gave a soft moan of pain as 
Elrond helped him to lay back down.  “Rest now, beloved,” Elrond 
whispered as he gently stroked the hobbit’s curls, “recover from your 
pains.  I shall be here beside you.”

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

	Many things happened in the days afterwards.  The hobbits were 
reunited with one another, and they shared stories of their adventures as 
they recovered from their wounds together.  Frodo was quiet most of the 
time, preferring not to relive any part of his experiences if he could help it.  
Samwise filled Merry and Pippin in on most of the details.  Some parts he 
left out, of course, for they were too painful and too personal to speak of 
so soon.  The hobbits were honored, especially Frodo (much to his 
embarrassment), and Aragorn was coronated.  Frodo spent his nights in 
Elrond’s loving arms as he slowly regained his strength.  They did not 
make love, for it was too soon for such intimacy, and Elrond was frankly 
worried that he might harm his small companion.  He did not have to tell 
Frodo that the worst of his wounds would never heal.  The hobbit knew 
this already.  He would never regain his health completely, and though it 
was a depressing thought, Frodo hardly gave it a care for the time being.  
He was too caught up in being alive to allow his concerns to shadow the 
fragile peace that he had found.  He lay in bed each night with Elrond, and 
they kissed and caressed and spoke of their love for one another.  By day, 
he spent as much time with Sam, Merry and Pippin as he could.

	The day of Aragorn and Arwen’s wedding came, and Frodo lent 
his silent support to Elrond as the elven king watched his daughter take 
her vows.  Frodo could feel the tension in Elrond’s spirit.  This wasn’t 
merely the symbolic loss of a daughter to her husband to him, Frodo 
know.  For Elrond, this was Arwen signing her own death certificate, and 
it was tearing him up...even if his smooth features betrayed no signs of his 
emotions.  Frodo slipped his small hand into Elrond’s long one as the 
vows were completed, and he sighed in relief when Elrond responded with 
a gentle squeeze.  At least he knew that he could do a bit of his own 
healing, if given a chance.  Despite the smile that Elrond gave to the 
hobbit when the wedding was finished, later that night he came to bed 
looking strangely exhausted for an elf.

	“Will you talk to me about it, or is it too soon?” Frodo asked, 
unconsciously repeating the words that Elrond had spoken to him when he 
fully awoke after being saved from Mount Doom.  His sapphire eyes were 
sympathetic and gentle as he scooted closer to his lover and placed his 
hand on his pale chest.

	Elrond caressed Frodo’s upturned face and murmured, “I had bitter 
words with my daughter concerning her decision to wed Elissar.  I truly 
have no right to be harsh, yet I cannot seem to help it.  It is not because I 
do not love Aragorn, for I do.  However, Arwen is opening herself up to 
great pain, by choosing not to sail to Valinor with her people.  I cannot 
bear to think of it.”

	Frodo’s bright, haunted eyes were steady as they stared into 
Elrond’s.  “And what of you and I, Elrond?  Do you not doom yourself in 
a similar way for loving me?  Do I not doom myself as well?  What more 
hope do you and I have than Arwen and Aragorn?”

	Elrond swallowed, hating the despair in the hobbit’s voice.  “You 
may come to Valinor, Frodo.  You and Bilbo have both earned that right, 
as ring bearers.  If you chose to do so, you could live with Celebrian and I, 
at peace in the undying lands.”

	“Yes, but it all depends on choice, doesn’t it?” Frodo said, tracing 
patterns on the silken skin of his lover's chest, “My choice to join you in 
Valinor would be no easier than Arwen’s choice to remain here.  In the 
end, we would both choose a land that we don’t truly belong in, so that we 
can be with the one we love.  Don’t you see, Elrond?  You must trust your 
daughter to make the decision that is best for her.  I know it hurts, but 
please, don’t let it drive you away from her.”

	Elrond nodded slowly, considering the hobbit’s heartfelt words.  “I 
am an arrogant creature, aren’t I, Master Baggins?” he whispered at last.

	Frodo smiled.  “Sometimes.  Most of the time you are very wise, 
though.”

	Elrond laughed for the first time since that awful day when Frodo 
had left Rivendell, and a weight lifted from his heart.  “Whatever would I 
do without you, El Hen?”

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

	The day came for everyone to depart.  Frodo chose to travel to 
Rivendell, to see Bilbo again.  He painfully explained to Elrond that he 
wasn’t willing to leave Middle Earth...at least, not yet.  Though he was 
weary and longed to escape his pain, a part of him couldn’t let go of his 
old life.  Elrond was understanding about it.  “I will wait for you, Frodo,” 
he promised on the night before the hobbits were to leave for the Shire, “I 
shall await your decision before making my journey to the Blessed 
Realms.  I cannot leave you behind, if there is a chance that you might 
come to regret your decision to stay.”

	Frodo didn’t argue with him, for he knew, somewhere in his heart, 
that he would eventually be unable to cope with the suffering.  It grew 
worse on the anniversary of the day he was stabbed by the Nazgul and on 
the day Shelob bit him.  They made love that night, carefully and tenderly.  
Elrond was reluctant at first to go beyond caressing and kissing, but Frodo 
begged him, needing to feel the elf’s warmth within him once more.  It 
was an unhurried, thorough coupling, possibly the most gently passionate 
one they had ever shared.  The next day, once again, Frodo left Elrond.  
He bid goodbye to Bilbo and his lover, and he traveled with his friends 
back to the Shire.

	Their homecoming wasn’t pleasant.  They found that Saruman had 
sent forces to invade the Shire months ago, and his men were still present.  
They had cut down the beautiful Party Tree and many of the others that 
made the Shire so uniquely lovely.  They had abused and imprisoned the 
hobbits.  Merry and Pippin were the real heroes that day.  They roused 
their frightened kin, and with Frodo and Sam’s help, they launched a 
rebellion against the tyrannical Men who had occupied their home.  Once 
the threat was driven away, the Shire began to rebuild, and Samwise 
planted the seeds given to him by Galadriel.  Frodo was given Bag End 
again as a token of appreciation, and he was elected as Mayor.  Sam 
finally married Rose Cotton, and Frodo invited the two of them to come 
and live with him.  What they didn’t know was that he was making plans 
to leave everything to his loyal gardener and his wife.  

	Samwise tried his best to help Frodo with his pains, and though he 
never said anything to his Master, the love that he bore for the smaller 
hobbit was plain to see.  He loved his Rosie, certainly, but he knew that he 
could never stop loving Frodo.  He refused to take advantage of his 
master’s vulnerable state, however.  Even when Frodo was as weak as a 
babe and Sam would hold him tight to generate warmth, the gardener 
never allowed himself more than a chaste kiss on Frodo’s forehead.  He 
had a wife now, and a daughter.  He learned to live with his lingering 
attraction to his master and be a good husband and father.  Besides that, 
Frodo still belonged to Elrond, though he had left the elven king to come 
home.

	One day, while Sam was weeding the garden of Bag End and Rose 
was away with Elanor visiting her parents, Frodo came out and began to 
ask questions.  “Tell me, Sam...what is that plant there?”  His breath 
sighed across the skin of the gardener’s neck as he knelt down behind him 
and placed his hands on his shoulders.

	Sam shivered in spite of himself.  “Ah, that’s broccoli, sir.  The 
vine next to it is pumpkin.”

	Frodo moved to the side and squatted down beside the gardener, 
laying his head on his shoulder.  “And that one?”

	Samwise hesitated.  Why was Mister Frodo so interested in 
gardening, all the sudden?  There was a hidden meaning here, but he sure 
couldn’t figure out what it was.  “That’s beet root.”

	“Oh.  I think it’s wonderful that you know so much about living 
things, Sam.”

	Sam’s brows furrowed, and he turned his head to look down at the 
hobbit who rested his cheek on his shoulder.  Frodo’s wide, blue eyes 
were gazing up at him with some gentle emotion in them that he couldn’t 
quite place.  Sam couldn’t explain how, but he knew then that his master 
had made his decision to leave Middle Earth...possibly forever.  This was 
all just bandage talk, little bits that Frodo wanted to take with him for 
remembrance.  Tears filled Sam’s eyes, and he raised a dirty fist to them 
and wiped them as he sniffled.  “You’re going soon, aren’t you Frodo?”  
He didn’t bother with formalities.  They were pointless, now.

	Frodo sighed.  “Yes.  I want you to know that Bag End is yours 
now.  I’ve left everything to you and your family, Sam.  You deserve no 
less.  Please understand, I’m simply not strong enough to live with the 
pain anymore.”  He began to cry quietly as well, and he stared up at Sam 
imploringly.  “I thought it best that I tell you while Rose is away.  I wish 
for you to come to the Grey Havens with me, Sam.  One last adventure 
together.”

	Sam looked down at the plants beneath his hands and fought to 
bring his emotions under control.  He knew this day was coming.  He 
knew it from the moment he realized that his master would never heal 
from his wounds.  He had to be strong, now.  “Of course, I’ll come with 
you, Frodo.  Your Sam won’t ever leave you to face anything on your 
own.”

	Frodo smiled through his tears.  “Thank you, Sam.  There is one 
other thing that I must do, if only once.”

	Samwise stared at him with a befuddled expression on his face as 
Frodo leaned closer.  The gardener’s eyes popped open wide as his 
master’s soft lips came into contact with his, and his fingers curled 
mindlessly into the loose soil beneath them.  Bliss.  That was the one word 
that Sam could use to describe the tender, loving kiss that Frodo bestowed 
upon him.  Common sense jabbed at the gardener just enough to make him 
gasp, “B-but Mister Frodo...what about Elrond?  What about Rosie?”

	Frodo’s fingers combed into Sam’s curls and he whispered against 
his lips, “Relax, Sam.  I only wanted to kiss you.  We needn’t go further 
than that, and I think after all this time, we should let go just once and 
breathe the love we bear for each other.  It is different from what we have 
for Rosie and Elrond...I see that, now.”

	Samwise didn’t argue with that, and he didn’t care if someone 
happened upon them.  He put his arms around Frodo and deepened the 
kiss, feeling tears flowing freely down his cheeks.  This is all that he ever 
wanted, and he had always been too frightened of the consequences to ask 
for it.  After a few moments, Frodo quietly suggested they go inside, to 
spend the evening undisturbed so that they could get an early start in the 
morning.  Again, Sam didn’t argue.  He allowed his master to take his 
hand and lead him into the burrow, and they lay in Frodo’s bed together 
and kissed tenderly for hours, holding one another as they did so.  It didn’t 
progress beyond a few shy touches and caresses, for both of them knew 
the limits of what they should be doing.  Neither was willing to be 
unfaithful to their partners, even if Frodo hadn’t been with Elrond in years.

	Samwise traveled with Frodo to the Grey Havens, confident that he 
could make it back home before Rose and his daughter returned.  In case 
he didn’t, he left a note for them, explaining his absence and promising 
that he would be home soon.  “Mister Frodo, I don’t mean to sound rude, 
but how do you know the boats will be there for you when we get there?” 
Sam asked.

	Frodo smiled gently, his blue gaze unfocused and staying in the 
direction of the sea.  “The ship will be there, and so will the others,” he 
murmured, “I can feel it.  If I do not leave with this ship, then I will lose 
my chance, Sam.”

	Sam wanted to ask what “others” Frodo was talking about, but he 
couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat.  His question was answered 
when they reached the shores of the Grey Havens and he saw the 
magnificent white elven ship waiting peacefully in the water.  “They” 
were all of the ring bearers and a few of the remaining elven leaders.  
Elrond stood at the boarding plank of the ship, looking around anxiously.  
He was stalling to the last minute, waiting for Frodo, Sam realized.  
Aboard the ship already was Gandalf, Bilbo, Galadriel, and some others 
that Sam didn’t recognize.  Galadriel called out to Elrond, saying that time 
was running out, and the elf kind snapped something back to her in their 
own tongue.  

	Frodo turned to Sam, his blue eyes clearer than the gardener had 
seen them since before the ring came into their lives.  “Sam, I’ll never 
forget what you’ve done for me,” Frodo whispered, cupping his friend’s 
face, “and I hope that when you look back and remember me, you’ll see 
me as I once was, and not as I am now.  I would have you remember me in 
my happier days, my friend.”

	Sam couldn’t speak.  He could only nod and hug Frodo tightly as 
sobs tore through his chest.  The embrace seemed to last for an eternity, 
and yet it was finished all too quickly.  Samwise reluctantly let his master 
go and sniffed, “You should go, before they leave you behind, Frodo.  Go 
and heal, me dear.  I...I promise to remember your smiles, instead of your 
tears.”

	Frodo bit his lip and for a moment, he seemed to reconsider.  He 
looked from Sam to Elrond, tears dripping down his face.  “Go on, Frodo.  
You can’t do yourself any more good here.  I know that, now,” Sam said 
in a husky, yet determined voice.

	Frodo drew a deep, ragged breath and nodded, and then he turned 
and stumbled in the sand towards the ship and his lover.  Sam watched 
silently as Elrond spotted him and met him half way.  The elf king went to 
his knees and embraced Frodo, hugging him tightly.  They spoke, and then 
they kissed, and Elrond lifted Frodo as easily as he would a child.  He 
carried the ailing hobbit onto the boarding plank, pausing once to look 
over his shoulder and give a caring, thankful smile and nod of respect to 
Samwise.  Then they set sail, and Frodo Baggins left Middle Earth.

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

	“We have docked, Frodo,” Elrond said tenderly to his bedridden 
companion.  He smoothed some wayward, dark curls from the hobbit’s 
forehead before taking his small hands and rubbing them for warmth.  
“Soon, you will be in a warm bed, and my wife and I shall be spoiling you 
with more care than you can stand.  How does that sound?”

	Frodo smiled at his lover, though he could hardly see his features 
through the dark fog that clouded his vision.  Granted, he could make out 
Elrond’s face more clearly than before, and he could already feel the pain 
receding as a result of being on the shores of Valinor.  “That would 
be...wonderful,” he said sluggishly.  He reached up to put his arms around 
Elrond’s neck as the elf lifted him gently.

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

	The illness passed more quickly than usual, and Frodo awoke to 
the sound of a lovely, feminine voice singing.  It was an elvish tune, and 
he smiled and stretched as he felt the warm rays of the sun on his face.  
Remembering where he was, the hobbit opened his eyes wide and sat up 
with a gasp.  On the edge of the bed he lay in was a silver haired woman 
with pale blue eyes and delicately beautiful features.  “C-Celebrian?” 
Frodo said nervously, uncertain of how he should speak to Elrond’s wife, 
if this was she.

	“Good morning, Master Baggins.  My husband is cooking a nice 
stew for you.  I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you have joined us 
here.”  Her smile was warm and friendly, and even a little awed.

	Frodo realized that he was unclothed beneath the thin sheet that 
covered him, and he blushed and lay back down, pulling it up to his neck.  
“Oh, a great pleasure, lady,” he stammered with wide eyes, “I surely 
would have preferred to make a better impression, however.  I am not at 
my most dignified, I’m afraid.”

	“Do not trouble yourself, El Hen.  Celebrian helped me bathe you 
and put you to bed.  She cares for you as I do,” Elrond’s velvety voice said 
from the doorway.  Frodo blushed even further and managed not to 
squeak.  The elven king smiled and approached with a carved wooden 
bowl and a spoon in his hands.  “I do hope you are hungry, Frodo.  I’ve 
made an elvish stew, which should replenish the energy that you lost 
during your illness.”

	Frodo thanked his lover and took the offering.  He was extremely 
self-conscious as Elrond and Celebrian chatted softly with one another, 
casting fond looks at him as he ate.  Of course, Elrond had said long ago 
that his wife would be accepting of Frodo...the hobbit just didn’t expect 
her to be this accepting!  She was a kind and beautiful woman, and Frodo 
felt clumsy and inept in comparison.  Celebrian seemed to have no such 
worries, herself.  She chatted with her husband and Frodo, asking the 
hobbit how he was feeling and expressing sympathy for all that he had 
endured.  She even reached out and tucked a wayward curl behind his ear, 
so that it wouldn’t get in the way while he ate.

	Frodo was surprised at just how sharp his appetite was.  He hadn’t 
been this hungry since before he left the Shire on that fateful day to take 
the ring to bigger folk.  As he read his thoughts, Elrond smiled at the 
empty bowl and said, “Here, Frodo...I shall serve you another helping.  
You must be hungry.”

	Frodo blushed and murmured a shy thank-you.  His blue eyes were 
timid as he looked at Celebrian and questioned, “Has the blessed realms 
healed your wounds, milady?”

	“Indeed it has, Frodo.  Though it took time, being in this land has 
restored me to my former health.  In time, it shall do the same for you.  
The hardest part is letting go and healing your heart.”

	Frodo swallowed as his eyes watered.  Her words made him think 
of the Shire, and Samwise and his cousins.  True, he had Bilbo and Elrond 
here (and apparently Celebrian as well), but it was so very hard not to feel 
homesick.  He forgot all about his embarrassment over this stranger 
bathing him and his awkwardness with how to communicate with her.  
Celebrian watched the different expressions that Frodo’s youthful face 
went through, and she understood how torn he was.  She dared to place her 
slender hand on his good shoulder and whisper, “We have all left things 
behind that we love, Frodo.  Do not fear to let your pain show, as there is 
no one here who would not understand your longings.  We are here for 
you.”

	He nodded and whispered, “Thank you.”

	Elrond returned to the bedroom with a fresh bowl of stew, and he 
gave it to Frodo and seated himself beside him on the bed.  “If you feel 
well enough when you’ve finished eating, we would like to give you a 
brief tour.  This lodging is only temporary, until the three of us can find a 
design that offers equal comfort to us all.  I would like to find a 
compromise so that you can feel more at home, without Celebrian and I 
bumping our heads on the ceiling.”  Elrond smiled teasingly at the hobbit, 
and Frodo laughed.

	“That sounds wonderful, and I can’t thank you enough for being so 
considerate.  I believe I have the strength now for a stroll, and if it’s no 
trouble, I should like to visit Bilbo and Gandalf.”

	“Of course, El Hen.  I will lie out clean clothes for you to dress in 
while you finish your meal.  Do not feel rushed...you may have as many 
helpings as you wish.”

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

	Frodo did indeed have a third helping of the stew.  Celebrian made 
a teasing remark that she thought her husband was joking when he told her 
about hobbit appetites, and Frodo blushed to the roots of his hair, but 
laughed with her.  His unease faded, for Celebrian was a light-hearted 
woman with a good sense of humor.  If there was a spark of sadness in her 
eyes for missing her children, it was tempered with her happiness to have 
her husband and Frodo.  They allowed him the privacy to dress, 
understanding that his modesty didn’t allow for stripping in front of both 
of them, just yet.

	“Well, what do you think of our little Master Baggins, my love?” 
Elrond questioned while the couple seated themselves in the parlor to wait.

	“I feel as though I know him already, my lord.  He is everything 
that you said he was and more...absolutely stunning and adorable.  I do 
worry that he might not be comfortable with the living arrangements, 
however.  I know little of hobbits, but they tend to live monogamously, do 
they not?”

	Elrond nodded.  “Yes, that is true.  They are more reserved with 
their relationships than we elves are, and I daresay that many of them 
would scoff at the thought of three people in an equal partnership.  I have 
faith that Frodo will adjust to it, however.  He is an extraordinary creature, 
and he is not stingy with his love.”

	She chuckled.  “This I do not doubt, but the sort of love that I 
would eventually like to share may not appeal to the hobbit.  He has only 
had relations with males, has he not?  Oh, I merely worry that I might 
offend or frighten him, Elrond.  I shall be careful of how I touch him and 
await your word, before I allow myself to become too familiar with him.”

	Elrond grinned and put his arm around her, pleased beyond 
measure that she found Frodo as appealing as he did.  He had worried that 
she might find Frodo to be too child-like to consider an equal bond with 
him, but his concerns were proving to be unfounded.  “Let us not be hasty, 
my love.  I think that Frodo likes you more than you allow yourself to 
believe.  Try not to be overly nervous, for I’ve never known you to 
stumble, when it comes to matters of the heart.”

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

	They showed Frodo all of the sights around the little community 
that they lived in, and as promised, they took him to visit Bilbo and 
Gandalf.  The day was spent sharing tales and smoking pipes (at least for 
the hobbits and Gandalf), and eating. Frodo pointed out an empty dwelling 
that took his fancy, as they were walking home.  “That one...I do like 
that,” he said softly.  

	Elrond smiled.  Of course.  Frodo had pointed out one of the 
cottages that was built into a hillside.  It wasn’t exactly a hobbit burrow, 
but it was similar to one, and it was a large place.  “Well, let us have a 
look inside then, shall we?”  Elrond suggested.

	It was perfect for their needs.  The truth of the matter was, 
whatever Frodo wanted was what they were going to get, as Elrond and 
Celebrian preferred to spend much of their time outdoors anyways.  After 
inspecting the house, they agreed that it was best for all of them.  The roof 
was high, so the two elves could stand at full height within.  They would 
have furniture built that would accommodate both elven and hobbit sizes.  
Frodo was a bit dismayed about the kitchen, complaining that he would 
likely scald himself trying to reach up to do his cooking, but Celebrian 
suggested they turn one of the unused bedrooms into a little kitchen just 
for the hobbit.  “That isn’t too much?” Frodo questioned dubiously, not 
wanting to be any trouble.

	“Of course not!  You deserve to live in dignity, and I certainly 
would not wish to go about my daily business having to constantly stand 
on my tiptoes or stand on a box.  There is no reason why you should, 
either.  This is going to be your home, Frodo, and we shall do whatever is 
necessary to make it right for you.”  Celebrian said with a soft smile.

	He blushed, lowering his gaze as an attack of shyness washed over 
him again.  In many ways, Celebrian was like the lady Galadriel; all starry 
beauty and grace.  However, she was much more approachable than 
Galadriel, and very friendly and caring.  He was mortified to find himself 
wondering what it would be like to cuddle up to her at night.  Part of it 
was because she was Elrond’s wife, and therefore, Frodo loved her.  
Another part of it was curiosity.  He had never had much contact with the 
fairer sex, and Celebrian was about as fair as they got, in his eyes.  Though 
sex with a woman was never something that really appealed to him, he 
found himself less intimidated by the thought of being held by the lovely 
elven queen than he thought he would be.  

	“It seems we are going to be rather busy, then,” Elrond chuckled.  
“Come now, let us return to our current home and settle in for the evening.  
I can see that you are becoming weary, Frodo.”

	“I don’t want you to feel as though you both have to stay indoors 
on my account,” Frodo said, “It isn’t fair to you.”

	Elrond stroked Frodo’s back.  “Nonsense.  We want to spend time 
with you.  Perhaps we shall go outside while you are asleep in the night.  
For now, it is time to relax.”

	They returned to the house, and Celebrian lit the lamps while 
Elrond showed Frodo where the rest of his clothing could be found.  “I 
took the liberty of putting them in this dresser while you were resting, but 
you may arrange them however you wish.  We have tailors here as well, if 
you wish to have more clothing made.  You’ll find that our fair city is 
much like those in Middle Earth.  There are even taverns.”

	Frodo laughed.  “Ah, I was afraid to ask about that.  What a delight 
to hear.  I shall have to test the quality of their ale, soon.”

	Elrond smiled, his dark eyes tender as the hobbit chose his 
nightshirt and laid it out on the bed.  Elrond went to one knee and caressed 
Frodo’s cheek with his fingertips.  “I know that you aren’t yet comfortable 
with my wife, el hen, so until you adjust, we shall give you the privacy 
that you need.  You have only to call if you need me, and I shall come.”

	Frodo turned his head and closed his eyes, kissing his lover’s 
fingers softly.  “Thank you.  You’re always so understanding, Elrond.  I 
am grateful to have both of you with me.” 

	Elrond leaned in to kiss Frodo on the lips, and the hobbit put his 
arms around his neck and welcomed it.  It was an unhurried, loving kiss, 
which was exactly what Frodo needed at this time.  After long moments, 
Elrond pulled away and stroked Frodo’s cheek one last time before 
standing up.  “We shall be in the parlor if you need us, el hen.  May your 
sleep be untroubled.”

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

	Frodo’s sleep was far from untroubled.  Elrond was just taking a 
sip of mead when he heard his lover cry out in terror.  The elven king 
exchanged a worried look with his wife, and they both got up and hastened 
to the hobbit’s bedroom.  Frodo was hugging one of the pillows piled on 
the bed, sobbing pitifully and moaning denials.  Elrond gently pried the 
pillow from the hobbit’s desperate grasp and murmured, “Frodo, awaken.  
It is a nightmare!  I am here.”  He gently shook his small companion to 
wake him.

	Frodo sat up with a strangled gasp, his sapphire eyes round and 
unseeing in the darkness.  Celebrian quickly lit the lamp beside the 
hobbit’s bed, so that he could see where he was.  “Mordor,” choked Frodo, 
hugging himself and shivering.  “All lost...all gone.”

	Elrond passed his palm over the hobbit’s staring eyes, and they 
cleared.  Frodo blinked at his lover, perspiration beading his fair features.  
“Oh, Elrond!  I’m sorry...I can’t seem to help it,” he gasped.

	Elrond lifted the hobbit, then sat on the bed and cradled him in his 
lap.  “Hush now, beloved.  You are not to blame for your suffering.  Close 
your eyes and take a deep breath.”

	Frodo obeyed, his hand clutching Elrond’s silk shirt as the elf 
rocked him and stroked his hair.  Celebrian watched quietly, aching to 
comfort Frodo but unsure of whether her comfort would be welcome.  Her 
husband worked his magic, and the hobbit’s long lashes fluttered, while 
his rosebud lips parted in a yawn.  She smiled as Frodo drifted off to sleep, 
and Elrond looked up at her and smiled as well.  He carefully lay the 
hobbit down and slid into bed beside him, then motioned for Celebrian to 
come around the other side.  “Are you certain?” she said into his mind, not 
daring to speak out loud for the fear that she might wake Frodo.

	“Yes, my love.  Come and lay with us.  I am sure that he will find 
you presence comforting.  Trust me.”

	She removed her robe and crossed the room to get into bed from 
the other side.  Frodo stirred as she embraced him from behind and 
snuggled up to him, and she paused.  He turned his head and blinked 
sleepy blue eyes at her, and both Celebrian and Elrond tensed inwardly as 
they awaited his reaction.  

	Frodo was mildly surprised, and a bit at a loss as he felt 
Celebrian’s soft, feminine curves press against him.  She wore a gossamer 
nightgown that somehow managed to hide her body and show it off at the 
same time.  Frodo turned to look at Elrond, whose lean, hard body 
provided an interesting contrast against Frodo’s on the other side.  The elf 
king looked down at him tenderly and encouragingly, giving Frodo 
permission to do as he wished.  Hesitantly, the hobbit rolled over to face 
Celebrian, who strangely enough bore an expression of uncertainty on her 
beautiful face.  He realized that she was seeking his approval, but didn’t 
know how to ask.  

	Finally, Frodo smiled up at her and put his arm around her waist, 
then threw caution into the wind and rested his head on her chest.  It was 
new and pleasant, to feel a woman’s soft bosom cushioning his cheek.  He 
wondered if he had been too forward, for she went still for a moment.  
Then she began to comb her fingers through his hair, and he sighed in 
pleasure and cuddled closer.

	Celebrian smiled in amazement, first at the hobbit in her arms, and 
then at her husband.  She had wondered if holding Frodo would be like 
holding a child, but it wasn’t, for all his small stature.  His body was lithe 
beneath the long nightshirt, as graceful as an elf’s.  She found that he fit 
nicely against her, and she kissed the crown of his head and sighed.  
Elrond embraced both of them, kissing Frodo’s head and then his wife’s 
lips.

	Frodo’s eyelids became heavy, and a content little smile curved his 
mouth.  He felt safe and loved, sandwiched between two wise, beautiful 
beings.  This wasn’t a bit strange, and the ache in his heart became more 
bearable with the knowledge that he would have this peace until the end of 
his days.  It might take time, but he would heal.

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

The End